CHAPTER XII.

_PRE-DETERMINATION IN NATURE._

The natural prejudice of persons not acquainted with geology is that

in the world all things continue as they were from the beginning.

But a little observation and experience dispels this delusion, and

perhaps replaces it with an opposite error. When our minds have been

familiarized with the continuous processes by which vaporous nebulæ

may be differentiated into distinct planets, and these may be slowly

cooled from an incandescent state till their surfaces become resolved

into areas of land and water; and still more, when we contemplate the

grand procession of forms of life from the earliest animals and plants

to man and his contemporaries, we become converts to the doctrine that

all things are in a perpetual flux, and that every succeeding day sees

them different from what they were the day before. In this state of

mind the scientific student is apt to overlook the fact that there are

many things which remain the same through all the ages, or which, once

settled, admit of no change. I do not here refer to those fundamental

properties of matter and forces and laws of nature which form the basis

of uniformitarianism in geology, but to determinations and arrangements

which might easily have been quite different from what they are, but

which, once settled, seem to remain for ever.

We have already considered the great fact that the nuclei and ribs of

the continental masses were laid down as foundations in the earliest

periods, and have been built upon by determinate additions, more

especially upon their edges and their hollows, so that while there

has been a constant process of removal of material from the higher

parts of the land, and deposition in the sea, and while there have

been periodical elevations and subsidences, the great areas of land

and water have remained substantially the same, and the main lines

of elevation and folding have conformed to the directions originally

fixed. Thus, in regard to the dry land itself, there has been fixity,

on the one hand, and mutation on the other, of a most paradoxical

aspect, till we understand something of the great law of constant

change united with perennial fixity in nature. From want of attention

to this, the permanence of continents is still a debated question,

and it is difficult for many to understand how the frequent dips

of the continental plateaus and margins under the sea, and their

re-elevation, often along with portions of the shallower sea bottom,

can be consistent with a general permanence of the position of the

continents and of the corresponding ocean abysses; yet, when this is

properly understood, it becomes plain that the union of fixity with

changes of level has been a main cause of the continuity and changes

of organic beings. Only the submergence of inland plateaus under

shallow and warm waters could have given scope for the introduction

of new marine faunas, and only re-elevation could have permitted

the greatest extension of plants and animals of the land. Thus, the

continuity of life with continual advance has depended on the permanent

existence of continental and oceanic areas; and the continents that

remain to us with all their diversity of elevation and outline, their

varied productions, both mineral and organic, and their life, which

is a select remainder of all that went before, have been produced and

furnished by a succession of changes, modified by the most conservative

retention of general arrangements and forms.

It is evident, however, that it is not merely permanence we have

to deal with here, but permanence of position along with change of

elevation; and this modified by the fact that there have always been

mountain ridges, internal plateaus, and marginal areas affected in

various ways by the vertical movement of the land. Further, the

elevation and subsidence of the land have not always been uniform,

but often differential, while every movement has tended to produce

modifications of ocean currents and of atmospheric conditions. The

whole subject, more especially in its relations to life, thus becomes

very complicated, and it is perhaps in consequence of partial and

imperfect views on these points that so much diversity of opinion has

arisen. For example, it is evident that we can gain nothing by adding

to the continents those submerged margins delineated by Murray in

the _Challenger_ reports, and which have in periods of continental

elevation themselves formed portions of the land. Nor do we establish a

case in favour of perished oceanic continents by the argument that they

are needed to furnish the materials of marginal mountains which are due

to the continuous sweeping of arctic material to the south by currents,

as we see in the coast of North America to-day. Nor do we invalidate

the permanence of the continents by the bridges of land, islands,

and shallow water at various times thrown across the Atlantic. The

distribution of Cambrian Trilobites, as illustrated by Matthew,[151]

seems to show a bridge of this kind in the north in very early times,

and similar evidence is furnished by the animals and plants of the

Devonian and Carboniferous, and by the sea animals and plants of the

later Tertiary and modern. Gardener has postulated a southern bridge

in the region of the West Indies for the migrations of plants, and

Gregory has adduced the evidence of those conservative and slow-moving

creatures, the sea urchins, in favour of similar connection in the West

Indian region at two distinct periods of time (the Lower Cretaceous and

the Miocene Tertiary). But bridges do not involve want of permanence

in their termini. Because an engineer has bridged the Firth of Forth,

it does not follow that the banks of this inlet did not exist before

the bridge was built; and if the bridge were to perish, the evidence

that trains had once passed that way would not justify the belief that

the bed of the Firth had been dry land, and the areas north and south

of it depressed. The more we consider this question the more we see

that the permanence, growth and sculpture of the continents are parts

of a great continuous and far-reaching plan. This view is strengthened

rather than otherwise, when we consider the probable manner in which

the enormous weight of the continents is sustained above the waters. We

may attribute this, on the one hand, to rigidity and lateral arching

and compression, or, on the other, to what may be termed flotation of

the lighter parts of the crust; and there seems to be little doubt

that both of these principles have been employed in constructing the

"pillars which support the earth." It is evident, however, that an arch

thrown over the internal abyss of the earth, or a portion of its crust

so lightened as to be pressed upward by its heavier surroundings, must,

when once established, have become a permanent feature of the earth's

foundations, not to be disturbed without calamitous consequences to its

inhabitants.

[151] Transactions Royal Society of Canada, 1892.

It is the part of the philosophical naturalist to bring together these

apparent contrarieties of mutation and permanence; both of which are

included, each in its proper place, in the great plan of nature. It is

therefore my purpose in the present chapter to direct attention to some

of the terminal points or fixed arrangements that we meet with in the

course of the geological history, and even in its earlier parts, and

more particularly in reference to the organic world. This, which is in

itself constantly changing, has been placed under necessity to adhere

to certain determinations fixed of old, and which regulate its forms

and possibilities down to our own time.

The argument, as we have seen in a previous chapter, for the animal

nature of Eozoon depends on our assuming certain parts of this fixity.

We suppose that then as now calcium carbonate had been selected as the

material for the skeletons of such creatures; that then, as now, minute

tubuli and large canals were necessary to enable the soft animal matter

to permeate and pass through the skeleton, and that the protoplasmic

animal matter of these far back geological periods had the same vital

properties of contraction and extension, digestion, etc., that it has

to-day. Could any one prove that these determinations of vital and

other forces had not been established, or that living protoplasmic

matter, with all its wonderful properties, had not been constructed in

the Laurentian period, the existence of this ancient animal would be

impossible. Yet how much is implied in all this, and though nothing

is more unstable chemically or vitally than protoplasm, if it were

introduced in the Laurentian, it has continued practically unchanged up

to the present time.

If we pass on to the undoubted and varied life of the Cambrian period,

we shall find that multitudes of things which might have been otherwise

were already settled in a way that has required no change.

In the oldest Trilobites the whole of the mechanical conditions of an

external articulated skeleton had been finally settled. The material

chitinous or partly calcareous, its microscopic structure, fitted to

combine lightness and strength with facility for rapid growth, the

subdivision of its several rings, so as to form a protective armour

and a mobile skeleton, the arrangement of its spines for defence

without interfering with locomotion, the contrivance of hinge joints

arranged in different planes in the limbs, all these were already in

full perfection, and just as they are found to-day in the skeleton of a

king-crab or any other Crustacean. They have, it is true, been modified

into a vast number of subordinate forms and uses, but the general

principles and main structures all stand. I was much struck with this

recently in studying a remarkable specimen now in the National Museum

at Washington. It is a large species of Asaphus; the same genus which

gave to the late Mr. Billings the limbs of a Trilobite, the first ever

described; but in the Washington specimen they are remarkably perfect.

Each limb presents a series of joints resembling those of the tarsus of

an insect, each joint being of conical form with the narrow proximal

end articulated to the enlarged distal end of the previous one, so

as to give great facility of movement and accommodation for delicate

muscular bands. This tells us of muscular fibre and tendon fitted for

flexing and extending these numerous joints, of motor nerves to work

that marvellous contractile power of the striated muscle, whose mode

of action is still an insoluble mystery, yet one practically solved in

the remote Cambrian age for the benefit of these humble inhabitants

of the sea. If we could imagine that the inventive power to perfect

such machinery was present in the brains of these old Crustaceans or

Arachnidans, we might wish that some of them had survived to instruct

us in matters which baffle our research.

It is long since the compound eyes of these Trilobites, as illustrated

by Burmeister, gave Buckland the opportunity to infer that the laws

of light and of vision were the same from the first as now. But what

does this imply? Not only that the light of the sun penetrating to the

depths of the Cambrian sea, was regulated by the same laws as to-day,

but that a series of cameras was perfected to receive the light as

reflected from objects, to picture the appearance of these objects on

a retinal screen as sensitive as the film of the photographer, and

thereby to produce true perceptions of vision in the sensorium of these

ancient animals. I have before me a fragment of the eye of a Trilobite

(_Phacops_), in which may be seen the little radiating tubes provided

for the several ocelli of the compound eye, just as we see in the

modern Limulus; and each of these ocelli must have been a perfect

photographic camera, and more than this, since absolutely automatic,

and probably having the power to represent colour as well as light

and shade. We know also, from the recent experiments of an Austrian

physiologist on the eyes of insects, that such compound eyes are so

constructed as to present a single picture, just as we can see the

whole landscape in looking through the many little panes of a cottage

window. In our own time the king-crab and lobster no doubt see just

as their predecessors did millions of years ago, and with precisely

similar instruments.

But the eyes of the modern Crustaceans have to compete with eyes of a

dissimilar type, constructed on the same general optical principles,

but quite different in detail. These are the simple or single eyes

of the cuttle-fishes and the true fishes. The same rivalry existed

in the oldest seas, when the competition of Crustaceans and cuttles

was just as keen as now. Though the eyes of the latter have not been

preserved, or at least have not yet been found, we have a right to

infer that the cuttles of the Cambrian and Silurian seas must have

been able to see as well as their Crustacean foes and competitors. If

so, the other type of eye must have been perfected for aquatic vision

as early as the compound type. In any case we know that a little

later, in the Carboniferous period, we have evidence that the eyes of

fishes conformed to those of their modern successors. I have myself

described[152] a carboniferous fish (_Palæoniscus_) from the bituminous

shales of Albert County, New Brunswick, in which the hard globular lens

of the eye had been sufficiently firm and durable to retain its form,

and to be replaced by calcite, showing even that like the lens of the

eye of a modern fish it had been constructed of concentric laminæ. In

the Carboniferous period also, both types of eye, the compound and

the single, experienced the further modifications necessary to fit

them for vision in air, the compound eye in insects, the simple eye in

Batrachians.[153] The original photographic cameras, strange though

this may appear to us, were intended for use under water; but at a very

early time they were adapted to work in air.

[152] _Canadian Naturalist._

[153] See _ante_, chapter on Air-breathers.

But we must bear in mind that this early solving of advanced problems

in mechanics, optics and physiology was in favour of Crustaceans

and cuttles, which were lords of creation in their time. There were

in those early days humbler creatures whose structures also present

wonderful contrivances.

I have already referred, in the chapter on imperfection of the

geological record, to the fossil sponges which have been found in so

great number and perfection in some of the oldest rocks of Canada, and

which have for the first time enabled us to appreciate the forms and

structures of the wonderful silicious sponges which preceded those

with which the dredgings of the _Challenger_ have made us familiar in

the modern seas. Humble sarcodous animals, without distinct muscular

or nervous system or external senses, the sponges have at least to

live and grow, and to that end they must already, in the dawn of life

on our planet,[154] have perfected those arrangements of ciliated

cells in chambers and canals which the microscope shows us driving

currents of water through the modern sponges, and thereby bringing to

them the materials of food and means of respiration. It is true we

know as little as the sponges themselves of the _modus operandi_ of

those perpetually waving threads which we call cilia or flagella, yet

they must have existed with all their powers even before the Cambrian

period.[155]

[154] I have found spicules of sponges in the chert nodules from the

Huronian limestones of Canada.

[155] Many species of hexaclinelled sponges have been described from

the upper Cambrian or lower Cambro-Silurian of Canada. See paper by the

author in the Transactions of the Royal Society of Canada, 1889.

[Illustration: A Giant Net-sponge.--_Palæosaccus Dawsoni_, Hinde. From

the Quebec group (Ordovician), Little Metis, Canada. Reduced to 3/7 the

diameter. (From the _Geological Magazine_, 1803.)]

The sponge, in order to support its delicate protoplasmic structures,

must have a skeleton. In modern times we find these creatures

depositing corneous or horny fibres, as in the common washing sponges,

or forming complex and beautiful structures of needles, or threads of

silica or calcite, and they seem from the first to have been able to

avail themselves of all these different materials. The oldest species

that we know had silicious or calcareous skeletons, though some of them

must also have had a certain amount, at least, of the ordinary spongy

or corneous fibres. But the most astonishing feature in what remains

of their skeletons, flattened out as they are on the surfaces of dark

slaty rock, is the manner in which they worked up so refractory a

material as silica into fibres like spun glass rods and crosses, and

built these up into beautiful basket-like forms, globular, cylindrical

or conical. It was necessary that they should fix themselves on the

soft muddy bottoms on which they grew, and to this end they produced

slender silicious fibres or anchoring rods, which, fine though they

were, had the form of hollow tubes. Sometimes a single rod sufficed,

but in this case it had a cross-like anchor affixed to its lower end, to

give it stability. Sometimes there were several simple rods, and then

they were skilfully braced by spreading them apart at the ends, and by

flattening their extremities into blades. Sometimes four rods joined in

a loop at the end gave the required support. Some larger species wound

together many threads like a wire rope, and even added to this flanges

like the thread of a screw, anticipating the principle of the modern

screw pile.

The body of the sponge must be hollow within, and must have a large

aperture or opening for the discharge of water, and smaller pores for

its admission. Various general forms were adopted for this. Some were

globular, or oval, or pear-shaped; others cylindrical, concave, or

mitre-shaped. To give form and strength to these shapes there were

sometimes vertical and transverse rods soldered together. In other

cases there were four-rayed or six-rayed needles of silica, with their

points attached so as to form a beautiful lattice-work, with its

meshes either square or lozenge-shaped. For protection sharp needles

were arranged like _chevaux de frize_ at the sides and apertures, and

these last were sometimes covered with a hood or grating of needles,

to exclude intruders from the interior cavity. Other species, however,

like some in the modern seas, seemed to despise these niceties, and

contented themselves with long straight needles placed in bundles, or

radiating from a centre, and thus supporting and protecting their soft

and sensitive protoplasm.

Curiously enough, these old sponges did not avail themselves of the

natural cystallization of silica, which, left to itself, would have

formed six-rayed stars, with the rays at angles of sixty degrees, or

six-sided plates, rods, or pyramids. They adopted another and peculiar

form of the mineral, known as colloidal silica, and being thus relieved

from any need to be guided by its crystalline form, treated it as we do

glass, and shaped it into cylindrical tubes, round needles and stars or

crosses, with the rays at right angles to each other.

The sponges whose skeletons are thus constructed, and which anticipated

so many mechanical contrivances long afterwards devised by man,

belonged to a group of silicious sponges (_Hexaclinellidæ_) which is

still extant, and represented by many rare and beautiful species of

the deep sea, which are the ornaments of our museums, and of which the

beautiful Eupleectella or Venus flower-basket, from the Philippine

Islands, and the glass-rope sponge (_Hyalonema_), from Japan, are

examples. But contemporary with these there was another group

(_Lithistidæ_), constructing skeletons of carbonate of lime, and which

preferred, instead of the regular mechanical structures of the others,

a kind of rustic work, made up of irregular fibres, very beautiful and

strong, but as a matter of pattern and taste standing quite by itself.

If there were any sponges with altogether soft and spongy skeletons in

these old times, their remains do not seem to have been preserved.

Here, it will be observed, are a great variety of vital and mechanical

contrivances devised in the very early history of the earth, settled

for all time, and handed down without improvement, and with little

change, to our later day. They are indeed vastly more wonderful than

the above general account can show; for to go into the details of

structure of any one of the species would develop a multitude of minor

complexities and niceties which no one not specially a student of these

animals could appreciate.

These are not solitary cases. The student of fossils meets with them

at every turn; and if he possesses the taste and imagination of a true

naturalist, cannot fail to be impressed with them.

To turn to a later but very ancient period, what can be more

astonishing than those first air-breathing vertebrates of the Coal

formation referred to in a previous chapter, with all their special

arrangements for an aërial habitat? I have mentioned their footprints,

and when we see the quarrymen split open a slab of sandstone and expose

a series of great plantigrade tracks, not unlike those of a human foot,

with the five toes well-developed, we are almost as much astonished as

Crusoe was when he saw the footprints on the sand. Crusoe inferred the

presence of another man in his island; we infer the earliest appearance

of an air-breathing vertebrate and the pre-human determination of the

form and number of parts of the human foot and hand, to appear in the

world long ages afterward. We see also that already that decimal system

of notation which we have founded on the counting of our ten fingers

was settled in the framework of most unmathematical Batrachians. It has

approved itself ever since as the typical and most perfect number of

parts for such organs.

If sceptically inclined, we may ask, Why five rather than four or six?

In the case of man we see that individuals who have lost one finger

have the use of the hand impaired, while the few who happen to have

six do not seem to be the better. How it was with the old Batrachians

we do not know; but it is certain that if we could have amputated the

claw-bearing little toe of _Sauropus unguifer_, or the reflexed little

toe of _Cheirotherium_, we should have much injured their locomotive

power.

The vegetable kingdom is full of similar examples of the early

settlement of great questions. Perhaps nothing is more marvellous

than the power of the green cells of the leaf as workers of those

complex and inimitable chemical changes whereby out of the water,

carbon dioxide and ammonia of the soil and the atmosphere, the living

vegetable cell, with the aid of solar energy, elaborates all the varied

organic compounds produced by the vegetable kingdom. Yet this seems all

to have been settled and perfected in the old Silurian period, long

before any kind of plant now living was on the earth. Perhaps in some

form it existed even in the Laurentian age, and was instrumental in

laying up its great beds of carbon. So all that is essential in plant

reproduction, whether in that simpler form in which a one-celled spore

is the reproductive organ, or in that more complex form in which an

embryo plant is formed in the seed, with a store of nourishment laid up

for its sustenance.

These arrangements were obviously as perfect in the great club mosses

and pines of the Devonian and Carboniferous as they have ever been

since, and we have specimens so preserved as to show their minute parts

just as well as in recent plants. The microscope also shows us that

the contrivances for thickening and strengthening the woody fibres and

trunk of the stem by bars or interrupted linings of ligneous matter, so

as to give strength and at the same time permit transudation of sap,

were all perfected, down to their minutest details, in the oldest land

plants. It is true that flowers with gay petals and some of the more

complicated kinds of fruit are later inventions, but the additions

in these consist mainly of accessories. The essentials of vegetable

reproduction were as well provided for from the first.

The same principle applies to many of the leading forms and types of

life, considered as genera or species. While some of these are of

recent introduction, others have continued almost unchanged from the

remotest ages. Such creatures as the Lingulæ, some of the Crustaceans

and of the Mollusks, the Polyzoa and some Corals have remained with

scarcely any change throughout geological time, while others have

disappeared, and have been replaced by new types.

We began this chapter with a consideration of the permanence of

continental areas, and may close with a reference to the same great

fact in connection with the continuity of life. Whether with some we

attach more importance to the support of the continents by lateral

pressure and rigidity, or with others to what may be termed flotation,

by virtue of their less density, as compared with that of the lower

parts of the earth; there can be little doubt that both principles have

been applied, and that both admit of some vertical movement. Thus the

stability of the continents is one of position rather than height, and

their internal plateaus as well as their partially submerged marginal

slopes have undergone great and unequal elevations and depressions,

causing most important geographical changes. Among these are the

formation of connecting bridges of shoals, islands, or low land,

connecting the continental masses at different periods, and permitting

migrations of shallow-water animals and even of denizens of the land.

The facts adduced in previous pages are sufficient to show connections

across the north of the Atlantic at intervals reaching from the

Cambrian to the Modern.

The conclusion of the whole matter is that there is a fixity and

unchangeableness in determinations and arrangements of force just

as much as in natural laws; and that while God has made everything

beautiful in its time He has also made everything beautiful and useful

in some sense for all time. With all this, while the great principles

and modes of operation remain unchanged, there is ample scope for

development, modification and adaptation to new ends, without deviation

from essential properties and characters. It is a wise and thoughtful

philosophy which can distinguish what is fixed and unchangeable from

that which is fluctuating and capable of development. Until this

distinction is fully understood, we may expect one-sided views and

faulty generalizations in our attempts to understand nature.

References:--"The Chain of Life in Geological Times." London. New

Species of Fossil Sponges from the Quebec Group at Little Metis.

Trans. Royal Society of Canada, 1889. Fossil Fishes from the Lower

Carboniferous of New Brunswick. _Canadian Naturalist_, "Acadian

Geology," 1855, and later editions to 1892. London and Montreal.

"The Story of the Earth," 1872 and later editions to 1891. London.

_THE GREAT ICE AGE._

DEDICATED TO THE MEMORY OF

MY LATE FRIEND

DAVID MILNE HOME, LL.D., F.R.S.E., ETC.,

An eminent and judicious Advocate of sound and

moderate Views respecting the Glacial Age.

Exaggerated Ideas--The St. Lawrence Valley--Modern Ice Action in the

St. Lawrence--Coast Ice--The Icebergs of Belle-Isle--Mt. Blanc and its

Glaciers--Effects of Glaciers--Possible Extension of Glaciers--Facts

of Glaciation in Canada--Cordilleran Glacier, Laurentide Glacier,

Appalachian Glacier--Submerged Valleys and Plains--Double Submergence

and Intermediate Partial Elevation--Interglacial Periods--Questions as

to Alternate Glaciation of Northern and Southern Hemispheres

[Illustration: Modern Boulder Beach.--Little Metis, St. Lawrence

Estuary. (From a Photograph.) Showing the manner in which travelled

boulders are piled up against the beach by the floating ice of the

Modern time (p. 346).]

Some Salient Points in the Science of the Earth · 第 12 / 18 章