CHAPTER VI.

THE ARGUMENTS FROM MORPHOLOGY.

§ 133. Leaving out of consideration those parallelisms among their modes of

development which characterize organisms belonging to each group, that

community of plan which exists among them when mature is extremely

remarkable and extremely suggestive. As before shown (§ 103), neither the

supposition that these combinations of attributes which unite classes are

fortuitous, nor the supposition that no other combinations were

practicable, nor the supposition of adherence to pre-determined typical

plans, suffices to explain the facts. An instance will best prepare the

reader for seeing the true meaning of these fundamental likenesses.

Under the immensely-varied forms of insects, greatly elongated like the

dragon-fly or contracted in shape like the lady-bird, winged like the

butterfly or wingless like the flea, we find this character in

common--there are primarily seventeen segments.[49] These segments may be

distinctly marked or they may be so fused as to make it difficult to find

the divisions between them, but they always exist. What now can be the

meaning of this community of structure throughout the hundred thousand

kinds of insects filling the air, burrowing in the earth, swimming in the

water? Why under the down-covered body of a moth and under the hard

wing-cases of a beetle, should there be discovered the same number of

divisions? Why should there be no more somites in the Stick-insect, or

other Phasmid a foot long, than there are in a small creature like the

louse? Why should the inert _Aphis_ and the swift-flying Emperor-butterfly

be constructed on the same fundamental plan? It cannot be by chance that

there exist equal numbers of segments in all these multitudes of species.

There is no reason to think it was _necessary_, in the sense that no other

number would have made a possible organism. And to say that it is the

result of _design_--to say that the Creator followed this pattern

throughout, merely for the purpose of maintaining the pattern--is to assign

an absurd motive. No rational interpretation of these and countless like

morphological facts, can be given except by the hypothesis of evolution;

and from the hypothesis of evolution they are corollaries. If organic forms

have arisen from common stocks by perpetual divergences and

re-divergences--if they have continued to inherit, more or less clearly,

the characters of ancestral races; then there will naturally result these

communities of fundamental structure among creatures which have severally

become modified in multitudinous ways and degrees, in adaptation to their

respective modes of life. To this let it be added that while the belief in

an intentional adhesion to a pre-determined pattern throughout a whole

group, is negatived by the occurrence of occasional deviations from the

pattern; such deviations are reconcilable with the belief in evolution. As

pointed out in the last chapter, ancestral traits will be obscured more or

less according as the superposed modifications of structure, have or have

not been furthered by the conditions of life and development to which the

type has been subjected.

§ 134. Besides these wide-embracing and often deeply-hidden homologies,

which hold together different animals, there are the scarcely-less

significant homologies between different organs of the same animal. These,

like the others, are obstacles to the supernatural interpretations and

supports of the natural interpretation.

One of the most familiar and instructive examples is furnished by the

vertebral column. Snakes, which move sinuously through and over plants and

stones, obviously need a segmentation of the bony axis from end to end; and

inasmuch as flexibility is required throughout the whole length of the

body, there is advantage in the comparative uniformity of this

segmentation. The movements would be impeded if, instead of a chain of

vertebræ varying but little in their lengths, there existed in the middle

of the series some long bony mass that would not bend. But in the higher

_Vertebrata_, the mechanical actions and reactions demand that while some

parts of the vertebral column shall be flexible, other parts shall be

inflexible. Inflexibility is specially requisite in that part of it called

the sacrum; which, in mammals and birds, forms a fulcrum exposed to the

greatest strains the skeleton has to bear. Now in both mammals and birds,

this rigid portion of the vertebral column is not made of one long segment

or vertebra, but of several segments fused together. In man there are five

of these confluent sacral vertebræ; and in the ostrich tribe they number

from seventeen to twenty. Why is this? Why, if the skeleton of each species

was separately contrived, was this bony mass made by soldering together a

number of vertebræ like those forming the rest of the column, instead of

being made out of one single piece? And why, if typical uniformity was to

be maintained, does the number of sacral vertebræ vary within the same

order of birds? Why, too, should the development of the sacrum be by the

round-about process of first forming its separate constituent vertebræ, and

then destroying their separateness? In the embryo of a mammal or bird, the

central element of the vertebral column is, at the outset, continuous. The

segments that are to become vertebræ, arise gradually in the adjacent

mesoderm, and enwrap this originally-homogeneous axis or notochord. Equally

in those parts of the spine which are to remain flexible, and in those

parts which are to grow rigid, these segments are formed; and that part of

the spine which is to compose the sacrum, having acquired this segmental

structure, loses it again by coalescence of the segments. To what end is

this construction and re-construction? If, originally, the spine in

vertebrate animals consisted from head to tail of separate moveable

segments, as it does still in fishes and some reptiles--if, in the

evolution of the higher _Vertebrata_, certain of these moveable segments

were rendered less moveable with respect to one another, by the mechanical

conditions they were exposed to, and at length became relatively immovable;

it is comprehensible why the sacrum formed out of them, should continue

ever after to show its originally-segmented structure. But on any other

hypothesis this segmented structure is inexplicable. "We see the same law

in comparing the wonderfully complex jaws and legs in crustaceans," says

Mr. Darwin: referring to the fact that those numerous lateral appendages

which, in the lower crustaceans, most of them serve as legs, and have like

shapes, are, in the higher crustaceans, some of them represented by

enormously-developed claws, and others by variously-modified foot-jaws. "It

is familiar to almost every one," he continues, "that in a flower the

relative position of the sepals, petals, stamens, and pistils, as well as

their intimate structure, are intelligible on the view that they consist of

metamorphosed leaves arranged in a spire. In monstrous plants we often get

direct evidence of the possibility of one organ being transformed into

another; and we can actually see in embryonic crustaceans and in many other

animals, and in flowers, that organs, which when mature become extremely

different, are at an early stage of growth exactly alike." ... "Why should

one crustacean, which has an extremely complex mouth formed of many parts

consequently always have fewer legs; or conversely, those with many legs

have simpler mouths? Why should the sepals, petals, stamens, and pistils in

any individual flower, though fitted for such widely-different purposes, be

all constructed on the same pattern?"

To these and countless similar questions, the theory of evolution furnishes

the only rational answer. In the course of that change from homogeneity to

heterogeneity of structure displayed in evolution under every form, it will

necessarily happen that from organisms made up of numerous like parts,

there will arise organisms made up of parts more and more unlike: which

unlike parts will nevertheless continue to bear traces of their primitive

likeness.

§ 135. One more striking morphological fact, near akin to some of the facts

dwelt on in the last chapter, must be here set down--the frequent

occurrence, in adult animals and plants, of rudimentary and useless organs,

which are homologous with organs that are developed and useful in allied

animals and plants. In the last chapter we saw that during the development

of embryos, there often arise organs which disappear on being replaced by

other organs discharging the same functions in better ways; and that in

some cases, organs develop to certain points and are then re-absorbed

without performing any functions. Very generally, however, the

partially-developed organs are retained throughout life.

The osteology of the higher _Vertebrata_ supplies abundant examples.

Vertebral processes which, in one tribe, are fully formed and ossified from

independent centres, are, in other tribes, mere tubercles not having

independent centres of ossification. While in the tail of this animal the

vertebræ are severally composed of centrum and appendages, in the tail of

that animal they are simple osseous masses without any appendages; and in

another animal they have lost their individualities by coalescence with

neighbouring vertebræ into a rudimentary tail. From the structures of the

limbs analogous facts are cited by comparative anatomists. The undeveloped

state of certain metacarpal bones, characterizes whole groups of mammals.

In one case we find the normal number of digits; and, in another case, a

smaller number with an atrophied digit to make out the complement. Here is

a digit with its full number of phalanges; and there a digit of which one

phalange has been arrested in its growth. Still more remarkable are the

instances of entire limbs being rudimentary; as in certain snakes, which

have hind legs hidden beneath the integument. So, too, is it with dermal

appendages. Some of the smooth-skinned amphibia have scales buried in the

skin. The seal, which is a mammal considerably modified in adaptation to an

aquatic life, and which uses its feet mainly as paddles, has toes that

still bear external nails; but the manatee, which is a much more

transformed mammal, has nailless paddles which, when the skin is removed,

are said, by Humboldt, to display rudimentary nails at the ends of the

imbedded digits. Nearly all birds are covered with developed feathers,

severally composed of a shaft bearing fibres, each of which, again, bears a

fringe of down. But in some birds, as in the ostrich, various stages of

arrested development of the feathers may be traced: between the

unusually-elaborated feathers of the tail, and those about the beak which

are reduced to simple hairs, there are transitions. Nor is this the extreme

case. In the _Apteryx_ we see the whole of the feathers reduced to a

hair-like form. Again, the hair which commonly covers the body in mammals

is, over the greater part of the human body almost rudimentary, and is in

some parts reduced to mere down--down which nevertheless proves itself to

be homologous with the hair of mammals in general, by occasionally

developing into the original form. Numerous cases of aborted organs are

given by Mr. Darwin, of which a few may be here added. "Nothing can be

plainer," he remarks, "than that wings are formed for flight, yet in how

many insects do we see wings so reduced in size as to be utterly incapable

of flight, and not rarely lying under wing-cases, firmly soldered

together?" ... "In plants with separated sexes, the male flowers often have

a rudiment of a pistil; and Kölreuter found that by crossing such male

plants with an hermaphrodite species, the rudiment of the pistil in the

hybrid offspring was much increased in size; and this shows that the

rudiment and the perfect pistil are essentially alike in nature." And then,

to complete the proof that these undeveloped parts are marks of descent

from races in which they were developed, there are not a few direct

experiences of this relation. "We have plenty of cases of rudimentary

organs in our domestic productions--as the stump of a tail in tailless

breeds--the vestige of an ear in earless breeds--the re-appearance of

minute dangling horns in hornless breeds of cattle." (_Origin of Species_,

1859, pp. 451, 454.)

Here, as before, the teleological doctrine fails utterly; for these

rudimentary organs are useless, and occasionally even detrimental; as is

the _appendix vermiformis_, in Man--a part of the cæcum which is of no

value for the purpose of absorption but which, by detaining small foreign

bodies, often causes severe inflammation and death. The doctrine of typical

plans is equally out of court; for while, in some members of a group,

rudimentary organs completing the general type are traceable, in other

members of the same group such organs are unrepresented. There remains only

the doctrine of evolution; and to this, these rudimentary organs offer no

difficulties. On the contrary, they are among its most striking evidences.

§ 136. The general truths of morphology thus coincide in their

implications. Unity of type, maintained under extreme dissimilarities of

form and mode of life, is explicable as resulting from descent with

modification; but is otherwise inexplicable. The likenesses disguised by

unlikenesses, which the comparative anatomist discovers between various

organs in the same organism, are worse than meaningless if it be supposed

that organisms were severally framed as we now see them; but they fit in

quite harmoniously with the belief that each kind of organism is a product

of accumulated modifications upon modifications. And the presence, in all

kinds of animals and plants, of functionally-useless parts corresponding to

parts that are functionally-useful in allied animals and plants, while it

is totally incongruous with the belief in a construction of each organism

by miraculous interposition, is just what we are led to expect by the

belief that organisms have arisen by progression.

The Principles of Biology, Volume 1 (of 2) · 第 6 / 17 章