We are led by such a case as this on to what are called examples of

“suspended animation.” Wheel-animalcules, and some other minute

creatures which are found living in tiny pools of water, on the bark of

trees, and in the hollows of leaves, naturally dry up when the water

evaporates. You may dry them yourself in a watchglass; they appear as

nothing more than shapeless dust particles mixed with the dried mud of

a drop of dirty water. They may be kept in this state for months—even

years. I do not know that any limit has been ascertained. But when you

add pure rain-water to the dust in the watchglass, it softens, and in

less than an hour the little wheel-animalcules have softened too, and

expanded into life, swimming about whilst the delicate spikes on their

“wheels” vibrate regularly as though they had never ceased to do so, and

as though the animalcules had not for years been dried-up little

mummies.

Of course, the term “suspended animation” has been applied in earlier

times to the often exaggerated stories of “trance” and deathlike sleep

in human beings. But it is now with more justice applied to these

instances of dried animalcules which return to life when wetted, and to

similar cases of prolonged retention of vitality by seeds, since it

would appear that in these dried animalcules life really is actually and

totally suspended, although the mechanism is there which resumes its

life when the necessary moisture is supplied. In cases of trance in man

and hibernation in animals, the heart is still very slowly and feebly

beating, and the breathing is still—almost imperceptibly—at work. The

chemical changes are still very slowly and gently proceeding. The buried

Indian wizard, and the snail, and the Sleeping Beauty are moist, and

chemically active, though feebly so; life is not absolutely suspended.

But in the dried animalcule (though complete chemical desiccation is not

effected), the removal of the water from the body actually arrests the

changes which we call life, just as a needle may arrest the

balance-wheel of a watch. Supply the water, or remove the needle, and

life ceases to be suspended; it goes on once more (as one of the rules

of Bridge ambiguously enacts) “as though no mistake had been made.”

XVIII

THE UNIVERSAL STRUCTURE OF LIVING THINGS

Without doubt, the greatest and most important statement which can be

made about living things is that they are either separate minute

particles of living matter or (more commonly) are built up by thousands

of such minute particles which have in each individual animal and plant

originated from a single such particle (the fertilised germ), by its

division into two, and the subsequent division of these two each into

two, and of the four so produced each into two—and so on, until by

repeated division into two, millions of corpuscles, hanging together as

one mass, are the result.

[Illustration: FIG. 36.—Simple “cells,” consisting of naked protoplasm,

changing shape and taking in solid food particles. A, is a series of

four successive changes of shape of a fresh-water animalcule, the

proteus or amœba; B, is a similar series of three views of a separate

creeping kind of corpuscle found in the blood and lymph-spaces of

animals, and called a “phagocyte.” It is also said to be “amœboid,”

from its resemblance to the amœba or proteus-animalcule. B, is from

the blood of the guinea-pig. It is not a parasite, but one of the

various kinds of cells which build up the animal body, and are derived

from the single original egg-cell (see Fig. 31) by continued division.

The three drawings show three changes of shape occurring in the same

“phagocyte” in a few minutes. It is engulphing a fever-producing

blood-parasite, a spirillum, marked _a_, into its soft, slimy

protoplasm, to be there digested and destroyed. In the same way the

amœba, A, is seen in four stages of engulphing the vegetable

particle, _a_. In the fourth figure the letter _b_ points to water taken

into the amœba’s protoplasm with the food-particle _a_. In all the

figures, _c_ points to the “vacuole” or liquid-holding cavity, which

bursts and re-forms in A; the letter _d_ points to the cell-nucleus.]

The particles of living matter are spoken of as “cells” for a very

curious reason, to which I will revert. The living matter is called

“protoplasm” (primitive or fundamental slime). A “cell” in the language

of microscopists means a corpuscle or more or less rounded or

irregularly shaped particle of protoplasm. Cells commonly vary in size

from 1/5000th to 1/200th of an inch in breadth, and may be much larger.

Protoplasm—the living substance of “cells”—is a slimy body, almost

liquid, but yet tenacious. It is transparent, but clouded by fine

granules, and can often be seen with a very high power of the microscope

to consist of more and of less liquid matter, intermixed like an

emulsion. It often has within it large cavities filled with liquid, and

also often oil drops; in other cases hard concretions or coarse

granules. But apart from other things, the protoplasm of a “cell”

always contains within it a special, firmer, and denser part, enclosed

in an enveloping coat or skin. This dense body is the “nucleus,” or

kernel, and is of the very greatest importance in the chemical changes

and movements which constitute the life of the cell. It is usually

spherical, and in the living state often looks clear and bright. All

cells, whether they are found building up the bodies of plants and

animals like so many living bricks, or living freely and singly as

animalcules, have the essential structure just described—a semi-liquid

yet tenacious material enclosing a globular firmer body, the nucleus.

[Illustration: FIG. 37.—A, cells forming soft vegetable tissue; _a_,

cell-wall; _b_, protoplasm; _c_, liquid-holding cavity in the

protoplasm; _d_, the nucleus. B, a pigment-cell from the frog’s skin,

expanded. C, the same cell contracted. D, a nerve-cell: observe the

nucleus. E, a muscle-cell stretched. F, the same contracted: observe the

nucleus.]

[Illustration: FIG. 38.—Copy of part of Robert Hook’s drawing of a

magnified piece of cork, showing the “cells” so named by him in 1665.]

How did these viscous nucleated corpuscles come to be called “cells”? It

was in this wise. At the end of the seventeenth century Dr. Robert Hook,

secretary of the Royal Society, published a beautiful book of folio

size, entitled _Micrographia_. In this he pictured various minute

insects and various natural products as seen under his microscope. Among

the objects figured and described was a piece of cork (Fig. 38). Hook

showed that it was built up of a number of empty, air-holding, box-like

chambers, less than the hundredth of an inch in length, and these he

called “cells,” comparing them to the “cells” of the bee’s honeycomb.

Later observers found that this “cellular” structure was very common in

plants—but it was not until more than a hundred years later that it was

observed that the “cells” which build up the soft stems and leaves of

plants are not empty or merely air-holding, but contain a liquid or

viscid matter. Robert Browne, a great botanist, who lived within the

memory of some of our older naturalists, first observed and described

the “nucleus,” or kernel, within the cells of some lily-like plants, and

gave it that name (Fig. 37 A, _d_). About the thirties of last century,

by aid of improved microscopes, a structure like that of the vegetable

“cell” and its “nucleus” was discovered in some animal materials, or

“tissues,” as they are termed—for instance, in cartilage (Fig. 39). The

word “tissue” is applied to each of the various layers and masses, such

as epiderm, fibrous tissue, muscle, nerve, cartilage, bone, which can be

distinguished in an animal body and separated from one another, just as

we may separate the “tissues” of a man’s clothes—the leathern, woollen,

silken, cotton, linen: the cords, laces, threads, and pads or stuffing.

The full meaning of this existence of “cells” or “cellular” structure in

the tissue of plants and animals only gradually became evident. A very

remarkable discoverer, Professor Schwann, of Liège (with whom when he

was an old man I spent an afternoon a great many years ago), was the

first to grasp the great facts and to put forward what has been ever

since called “the cell theory” of animal and vegetable structure and

life.

[Illustration: FIG. 39.—A piece of cartilage, showing the cells which

have formed it embedded in the (shaded) firm substance, and connected to

one another by branching processes of protoplasm.]

Schwann, in 1836, showed that the important thing about a “cell” is not

the box or cell-wall so much as the viscid contents and the nucleus. But

the name “cell” was (strangely enough) retained for the contents, even

when the box-like chamber was absent—much as we speak of “a bottle of

wine,” meaning the contents of the bottle, and not the glass vessel

holding it. It was shown that the box-like case or cell-wall (the

original “cell” of Hook) is actually formed by the living nucleated

plasm or viscid matter within it, just as a snail forms its shell, by

the separation or “secretion” of a dead, firm, chemical deposit on its

living surface. Schwann showed that all—not merely special exceptional

instances, but all—the tissues of plants and of animals are built up by

nucleated cells, the cell-wall being often not hard and box-like, but

soft, gelatinous, irregular in shape, and sometimes very thin, sometimes

very thick. Every living cell is thus surrounded by the chemical

products of its own activity, or may deposit those products within

itself as in the goblet-cell and the fat-cell seen in Fig. 40, C and D,

and these products differ in different tissues. The cells of a tissue,

using the word to mean the soft nucleated particles or corpuscles of

protoplasm or “cell-substance,” must be regarded as the microscopic

living “weavers” or makers of the tissue. The cells in one tissue may

form a honeycomb of boxes; in another a jelly-like mass or a fibrous

network, with the cell-substance scattered as nucleated particles in it

(Fig. 39). Or the cells may be elongated and contractile (Fig. 37, E,

F). They may be more or less fused with one another, as in flesh or

muscular fibre; but we can always recognise the presence of the

individual cells under the microscope by their distinct and separate

“nuclei.”

[Illustration: FIG. 40.—Three kinds of cells, magnified a thousand

times linear. A, a row of cilia-bearing cells. B, a single detached

ciliated cell: observe the nucleus in each cell. C, a goblet-cell, from

a mucous surface, producing _c_, a slimy secretion; _d_, the wall of the

cell; _b_, the nucleus; _a_, the protoplasm in which the secretion _c_

was accumulated until it burst out at the free end of the cell. D, a

fat-cell; _a_, the nucleus surrounded by protoplasm; _e_, the thin layer

of protoplasm enveloping the great oil drop _f_, which has formed within

it.]

Schwann’s most important conclusion from this universal presence of soft

corpuscles of cell-substance, each with its globular nucleus, in all the

tissues and most varied parts of animals as well as plants, was that the

life of a living thing, the chemical and physical changes which go on in

it from birth to death, consist in chemical and physical changes in each

of these microscopic, nucleated bodies, and that the life of the whole

animal or plant is the sum of the lives of these microscopic units. If

we wish to know more about the real nature of the growth and activities

of living things, said Schwann, we must thoroughly study and ascertain

the chemical and physical changes, and the properties of the

cell-substance in all the different varieties of tissue. That is the

celebrated “cell-theory” of Schwann. And this examination of, and

experiment with, the cells of all kinds of tissues of plants and animals

has been going on ever since Schwann made his historic statement more

than seventy years ago. The branch of science called “histology” is the

outcome of that study.

Microscopes have been immensely improved since Schwann wrote, first in

England by the father of the present Lord Lister, then later in Germany

by Abbé and Zeiss, of Jena. A variety of methods have been devised for

making the “cells” in thick, solid tissues visible. Very thin

sections—thin enough to be transparent—were at first cut from the

fresh tissues, and examined by transmitted light. This did very well in

a rough way, but better results were obtained by hardening the tissues

in alcohol or chromic acid, when wonderfully fine sections could be cut

and rendered translucent by soaking in varnish, in which they were

preserved for study with the microscope, between two plates of glass.

The sections were stained with various dyes, such as carmine, log-wood,

the aniline dyes, etc., and it was found that the nuclei of the cells

and the granules and fibres both in the minute cells and in the

surrounding substance manufactured by them, could be distinguished more

clearly by means of their differing affinity for the dyes. And whilst

endless section-cutting and staining and careful drawing and record of

the structure discovered, was proceeding in hundreds of

laboratories—other observers especially devoted themselves to the

difficult task of seeing the cell-substance or protoplasm and its

nucleus under the highest power of the microscope, whilst still alive!

It would seem a hopeless task to examine with a high-power microscope

the cells (less than a thousandth of an inch broad) inside the solid

stem or leaves of a plant or of an animal’s body without killing the

plant or animal and the cells of which they consist. As most of my

readers know, the front lens (or “glass”) of a high-power microscope has

to be brought very close indeed to any object in order to bring it into

focus—as near as the one twenty-fifth of an inch. Then the object

examined must be very small and transparent, in order that the light may

pass through it, as through the slide-picture in a magic lantern, and so

form a clear, well-defined picture in the focus of the microscope, where

the eye receives it.

Fortunately, there are some facts about living cells or corpuscles of

protoplasm which enable us to examine living cells, in spite of these

difficulties. In the first place, there are a whole host of minute

animals and plants—of many different kinds—which consist of only one

cell or nucleated corpuscle of protoplasm (Fig. 36 A); they are

transparent, abound in fresh water and sea water, and can be searched

for with the microscope in a drop of water placed on a flat glass plate

and covered with a specially thin glass slip. Many of these have been

studied for hours—and even days—continuously, and the remarkable

internal currents and movements of their viscid “protoplasm,” its

changes of shape, its feeding and growth, and the details of the process

of division into two—by which it multiplies—have been ascertained, as

well as the action upon it of light, heat, electricity, and mechanical

shock, and of all sorts of chemical substances, carefully introduced

beneath the cover-glass. A second fact of great importance is that the

“cells” or protoplasmic corpuscles, which build up a complex plant or

animal, do not die at once when the plant or animal “dies,” that is to

say, the animal or plant may be “killed” and fine bits of transparent

tissue removed from it and placed beneath the microscope, where, with

proper care, the cells may be kept alive for some time. The hairs of

many plants are strings of transparent “cells,” or boxes, containing

living, streaming, active protoplasm. These hairs can be cut off, and

the cells will remain alive for a long time whilst they are under the

microscope (see Fig. 15 _bis_). The transparent wall of the eye—called

the cornea—can be removed from a frog after it has been killed, and the

still-living cells in the delicate glass-like tissue can be studied with

the highest powers of the microscope, and give evidence of their life by

their movements and other changes. Most convenient and important for

this study is the blood—for there the cells are loose, floating in the

liquid. The cells in a minute drop of human blood can be kept alive for

hours, if the glass slide is kept warm, as it easily can be, and I have

seen the cells in a drop of frog’s blood (skilfully treated) still

alive, and exhibiting active movements, a fortnight after the frog, from

which the drop of blood came, was dead and buried. These floating,

moving cells of the blood are the “phagocytes,” which engulf and digest

disease germs and other particles (Fig. 36 B). Other more numerous cells

of the blood are the oxygen-carriers, or red corpuscles, which do not

show any movements or changes of an active kind whilst alive.

XIX

PROTOPLASM, LIFE AND DEATH

The result of the study of living cell-substance, or protoplasm, is to

show that every cell has an individual life, and often makes this

manifest by its movement, change of shape, and internal currents of

granules, as well as by the special chemical substances it produces and

consumes. All depend for their activity upon the presence of free

oxygen; all are killed by heat far less than that of boiling water; they

continually imbibe water charged with the chemical substances which

nourish them and cause them to grow in bulk and to divide into two; and

they manufacture various chemical bodies in the protoplasm and emit

heat, electrical discharges, and sometimes light. Some or other of them,

in fact, do in their small microscopic way all that the complex, big

animal or plant, of which they are constituents, is seen to do. The

cells of the liver manufacture the bile, those of the salivary glands

the saliva, and those of the intestinal wall a mucous fluid, and squeeze

out or eject those products into the adjacent ducts (see Fig. 40 C).

Other cells lay down (as cell-wall or coating) fibrous and hard

substances which form the skeleton; others become converted into horn

and are shed from the surface of the skin in man as “scurf”; others form

the great contractile masses called muscles. One lot are told off to

control the other cells by something resembling a system of electrical

wires and batteries—these are the nerve-cells (Fig. 37 D), with their

fine, thread-like branches, the nerve-fibres, which are long enough to

permeate every part of the body and place it in connection with the

nerve-cells in the great centres called brain, spinal cord, and ganglia.

At one time it was thought that the cells in the tissues of plants and

animals could originate _de novo_ by a sort of precipitation of liquid

matter. But it is now known that every cell has originated by the

division of a pre-existing cell into two, the nucleus of the mother cell

first dividing and then the rest of the cell. “Every cell originates by

the fission of a preceding cell” is the law, and to that is added,

“Every individual organism, plant or animal, itself originates from a

single cell, the fertilised germ-cell.” These are two laws of

fundamental importance in the study of living things. They are true of

man as well as of the smallest worm; of the biggest tree as well as of

the most insignificant moss or water-weed. When the fertilised egg-cell

divides, and its progeny keep on dividing and growing in bulk by the

conversion of nutriment into protoplasm, the dividing cells do not

necessarily become entirely nipped off from one another. In large tracts

of cells (or tissues) we often find that the neighbouring cells are

connected to one another by excessively fine filaments of protoplasm.

Only twenty years ago it was supposed, whilst the neighbouring cells

were thus connected as a rule in animals, as well as being often

connected to the finest nerve-filaments, yet that in plants the firm,

box-like cases which surround the protoplasm—and when seen dried and

empty by Robert Hook led him to introduce the word “cell” to describe

them—form completely shut cases, so that the living protoplasm of each

plant-cell is entirely cut off from its neighbour. This has now been

found by improved methods of microscopic examination to be a mistake.

The cell-wall in a great many plants, though so firm and cleanly cut in

appearance, is yet perforated by fine threads of the cell protoplasm, so

that each cell is in living communication with its neighbour. Thus, in

plants as well as in animals, the individual cell-units form a more or

less continuous whole of living matter, separated by dead, inert

cell-walls and products of cell activity; but, nevertheless, connected

in definite tracts and regions to one another by continuity of the

living matter in the form of excessively fine threads.

Those animals and plants which are built up of many cells of many

varieties—that is to say, all but the microscopic unicellular

kinds—may be considered as composite organisms—cell-states or

communities in which the individual cells, all derived from one original

mother-cell, are the citizens, living in groups and habitations

(tissues), having their different occupations and capacities, carrying

on distinct operations and working together for the common good, the

“life,” as we call it, of the individual plant or animal which they

constitute. This comparison should serve merely as an illustration of

the individual character and co-ordinated activity of the cells of a

many-celled plant or animal. It must not be forgotten that the separate

cells are all derived by binary division from the original germ-cell,

that they have not come into juxtaposition from distinct sources, but

often are held together by threads of their living material, which

remain after the process of division of one cell into two.

Protoplasm has been called “the physical basis of life.” Since the

activities to which we give the name “life” reside in protoplasm, and

are chemical and physical activities like those of other bodies, even

though more subtle and complicated—we are justified in regarding

protoplasm as the substance in us and other organisms which “lives.”

Death consists in the destruction—the chemical undoing or decomposition

of protoplasm.[3] In simple microscopic unicellular animals and plants,

this is obvious—so long as the protoplasm retains its chemical

structure it is not “dead.” Thus, it is possible with many small simple

organisms—such as animalcules and the seeds of plants—to dry them, and

to expose them to extreme cold, and to deprive them (by aid of a vacuum

pump) of all access of free oxygen or other gases. All chemical change

is thus necessarily arrested. But the atomic structure of the chemical

molecules in the protoplasm is not destroyed. Sir James Dewar, M.

Becquerel, and others have shown this by most carefully conducted

experiments. Seeds of clover, mustard, and wheat so treated do not

“die”; the mechanism remains intact, and when, after many weeks, the

seeds are moistened, warmed, and admitted to contact with the

atmosphere, the mechanism again begins to work, the protoplasm resumes

its activity, the seed “sprouts.” Similarly Dewar has shown that

bacteria are not killed by extreme cold, the temperature of liquid

hydrogen. When thus frozen they remain inert—but are even in this

condition liable to be “killed” by exposure to the blue and ultra-blue

rays of sunlight! Life was defined by Herbert Spencer as “the

‘continuous’ adjustment of internal to external relations,” and this

implied that what is called “suspended animation” was not really a

possible thing, but that there could only be an apparent or approximate

suspension. On the contrary, it seems that just as we may stop a watch

by holding back the balance-wheel with a needle, and yet not “kill” the

watch—for it will resume its movement as soon as the needle is

removed—so the changes of the chemical molecules of protoplasm can be

arrested, but if the chemical “structure” is uninjured the mechanism of

protoplasm can resume its activity when the arresting causes are

removed. The inactive, unchanging protoplasm is not “dead,” it has not

been “killed” so long as its mechanism is intact.

Science from an Easy Chair · 第 12 / 33 段