The Evolution of Man, vol 1 by Ernst Haeckel (paper ebook reader .txt) 📕

word has no ABSOLUTE meaning whatever, but is only a group-name, or category of classification, with a purely relative value. In 1857, it is true, a famous and gifted, but inaccurate and dogmatic, scientist, Louis Agassiz, attempted to give an absolute value to these “categories of classification.” He did this in his Essay on Classification, in which he turns upside down the phenomena of organic nature, and, instead of tracing them to their natural causes, examines them through a theological prism. The true species (bona species) was, he said, an “incarnate idea of the Creator.” Unfortunately, this pretty phrase has no more scientific value than all the other attempts to save the absolute or intrinsic value of the species.

The dogma of the fixity and creation of species lost its last great champion when Agassiz died in 1873. The opposite theory, that all the different species descend from common stem-forms, encounters no serious difficulty to-day. All the endless research into the nature of the species, and the possibility of several species descending from a common ancestor, has been closed to-day by the removal of the sharp limits that had been set up between species and varieties on the one hand, and species and genera on the other. I gave an analytic proof of this in my monograph on the sponges (1872), having made a very close study of variability in this small but highly instructive group, and shown the impossibility of making any dogmatic distinction of species.

According as the classifier takes his ideas of genus, species, and variety in a broader or in a narrower sense, he will find in the small group of the sponges either one genus with three species, or three genera with 238 species, or 113 genera with 591 species. Moreover, all these forms are so connected by intermediate forms that we can convincingly prove the descent of all the sponges from a common stem-form, the olynthus.

Here, I think, I have given an analytic solution of the problem of the origin of species, and so met the demand of certain opponents of evolution for an actual instance of descent from a stem-form. Those who are not satisfied with the synthetic proofs of the theory of evolution which are provided by comparative anatomy, embryology, paleontology, dysteleology, chorology, and classification, may try to refute the analytic proof given in my treatise on the sponge, the outcome of five years of assiduous study. I repeat: It is now impossible to oppose evolution on the ground that we have no convincing example of the descent of all the species of a group from a common ancestor. The monograph on the sponges furnishes such a proof, and, in my opinion, an indisputable proof. Any man of science who will follow the protracted steps of my inquiry and test my assertions will find that in the case of the sponges we can follow the actual evolution of species in a concrete case. And if this is so, if we can show the origin of all the species from a common form in one single class, we have the solution of the problem of man’s origin, because we are in a position to prove clearly his descent from the lower animals.

At the same time, we can now reply to the often-repeated assertion, even heard from scientists of our own day, that the descent of man from the lower animals, and proximately from the apes, still needs to be “proved with certainty.” These “certain proofs” have been available for a long time; one has only to open one’s eyes to see them. It is a mistake to seek them in the discovery of intermediate forms between man and the ape, or the conversion of an ape into a human being by skilful education. The proofs lie in the great mass of empirical material we have already collected. They are furnished in the strongest form by the data of comparative anatomy and embryology, completed by paleontology. It is not a question now of detecting new proofs of the evolution of man, but of examining and understanding the proofs we already have.

I was almost alone thirty-six years ago when I made the first attempt, in my General Morphology, to put organic science on a mechanical foundation through Darwin’s theory of descent. The association of ontogeny and phylogeny and the proof of the intimate causal connection between these two sections of the science of evolution, which I expounded in my work, met with the most spirited opposition on nearly all sides. The next ten years were a terrible “struggle for life” for the new theory. But for the last twenty-five years the tables have been turned. The phylogenetic method has met with so general a reception, and found so prolific a use in every branch of biology, that it seems superfluous to treat any further here of its validity and results. The proof of it lies in the whole morphological literature of the last three decades. But no other science has been so profoundly modified in its leading thoughts by this adoption, and been forced to yield such far-reaching consequences, as that science which I am now seeking to establish—monistic anthropogeny.

This statement may seem to be rather audacious, since the very next branch of biology, anthropology in the stricter sense, makes very little use of these results of anthropogeny, and sometimes expressly opposes them. (This does not apply to English anthropologists, who are almost all evolutionists.) This applies especially to the attitude which has characterised the German Anthropological Society (the Deutsche Gesellschaft fur Anthropologie) for some thirty years. Its powerful president, the famous pathologist, Rudolph Virchow, is chiefly responsible for this. Until his death (September 5th, 1902) he never ceased to reject the theory of descent as unproven, and to ridicule its chief consequence—the descent of man from a series of mammal ancestors—as a fantastic dream. I need only recall his well-known expression at the Anthropological Congress at Vienna in 1894, that “it would be just as well to say man came from the sheep or the elephant as from the ape.”

Virchow’s assistant, the secretary of the German Anthropological Society, Professor Johannes Ranke of Munich, has also indefatigably opposed transformism: he has succeeded in writing a work in two volumes (Der Mensch), in which all the facts relating to his organisation are explained in a sense hostile to evolution. This work has had a wide circulation, owing to its admirable illustrations and its able treatment of the most interesting facts of anatomy and physiology—exclusive of the sexual organs! But, as it has done a great deal to spread erroneous views among the general public, I have included a criticism of it in my History of Creation, as well as met Virchow’s attacks on anthropogeny.

Neither Virchow, nor Ranke, nor any other “exact” anthropologist, has attempted to give any other natural explanation of the origin of man.

They have either set completely aside this “question of questions” as a transcendental problem, or they have appealed to religion for its solution. We have to show that this rejection of the rational explanation is totally without justification. The fund of knowledge which has accumulated in the progress of biology in the nineteenth century is quite adequate to furnish a rational explanation, and to establish the theory of the evolution of man on the solid facts of his embryology.

CHAPTER 1.6. THE OVUM AND THE AMOEBA.

In order to understand clearly the course of human embryology, we must select the more important of its wonderful and manifold processes for fuller explanation, and then proceed from these to the innumerable features of less importance. The most important feature in this sense, and the best starting-point for ontogenetic study, is the fact that man is developed from an ovum, and that this ovum is a simple cell.

The human ovum does not materially differ in form and composition from that of the other mammals, whereas there is a distinct difference between the fertilised ovum of the mammal and that of any other animal.

(FIGURE 1.1. The human ovum, magnified 100 times. The globular mass of yelk (b) is enclosed by a transparent membrane (the ovolemma or zona pellucida [a]), and contains a noncentral nucleus (the germinal vesicle, c). Cf. Figure 1.14.)

This fact is so important that few should be unaware of its extreme significance; yet it was quite unknown in the first quarter of the nineteenth century. As we have seen, the human and mammal ovum was not discovered until 1827, when Carl Ernst von Baer detected it. Up to that time the larger vesicles, in which the real and much smaller ovum is contained, had been wrongly regarded as ova. The important circumstance that this mammal ovum is a simple cell, like the ovum of other animals, could not, of course, be recognised until the cell theory was established. This was not done, by Schleiden for the plant and Schwann for the animal, until 1838. As we have seen, this cell theory is of the greatest service in explaining the human frame and its embryonic development. Hence we must say a few words about the actual condition of the theory and the significance of the views it has suggested.

In order properly to appreciate the cellular theory, the most important element in our science, it is necessary to understand in the first place that the cell is a UNIFIED ORGANISM, a self-contained living being. When we anatomically dissect the fully-formed animal or plant into its various organs, and then examine the finer structure of these organs with the microscope, we are surprised to find that all these different parts are ultimately made up of the same structural element or unit. This common unit of structure is the cell. It does not matter whether we thus dissect a leaf, flower, or fruit, or a bone, muscle, gland, or bit of skin, etc.; we find in every case the same ultimate constituent, which has been called the cell since Schleiden’s discovery. There are many opinions as to its real nature, but the essential point in our view of the cell is to look upon it as a self-contained or independent living unit. It is, in the words of Brucke, “an elementary organism.” We may define it most precisely as the ultimate organic unit, and, as the cells are the sole active principles in every vital function, we may call them the “plastids,”

or “formative elements.” This unity is found in both the anatomic structure and the physiological function. In the case of the protists, the entire organism usually consists of a single independent cell throughout life. But in the tissue-forming animals and plants, which are the great majority, the organism begins its career as a simple cell, and then grows into a cell-community, or, more correctly, an organised cell-state. Our own body is not really the simple unity that it is generally supposed to be. On the contrary, it is a very elaborate social system of countless microscopic organisms, a colony or commonwealth, made up of innumerable independent units, or very different tissue-cells.

In reality, the term “cell,” which existed long before the cell theory was formulated, is not happily chosen. Schleiden, who first brought it into scientific use in the sense of the cell theory, gave this name to the elementary organisms because, when you find them in the dissected plant, they generally have the appearance of chambers, like the cells in a bee-hive, with firm walls and a fluid or pulpy content. But some cells, especially young ones, are entirely without the enveloping membrane, or stiff wall. Hence we now generally describe the cell as a living, viscous particle of protoplasm, enclosing a firmer nucleus in its albuminoid body. There may be an enclosing membrane, as there actually is in the case of most of the plants; but it may be wholly lacking, as is the case with most of the animals. There is