CHAPTER II.

CERTAIN PROOFS OF THE DOCTRINE OF DESCENT.

All the common phenomena of Morphology and Physiology, of Chorology

and Oekology, of Ontology and Paleontology, can be explained by the

theory of descent, and referred to simple mechanical causes. It is

precisely in this, viz., that the primary simple causes of all these

complex aggregates of phenomena are common to them all, and that other

mechanical causes for them are unthinkable--it is in this that, to us,

the guarantee of their certainty consists. For this reason all these

vast and manifold aggregates of facts are so many evidences of the

doctrine of descent. This fundamental relation of facts has been so

often expounded that I need dwell no farther on it in this place;

those who wish for any closer discussion of it are referred to my

"General Morphology" (vol. ii. chap. xix.), or "The History of

Creation,"[12] or "The Evolution of Man" (vol. i. p. 93).[13]

And where is yet farther proof of the truth of the theory of descent

to be found? Neither Virchow, nor any one of the clerical opponents

and the dualistic philosophers who are perpetually reiterating this

cry for more certain evidence, anywhere indicate where possibly such

evidence is to be sought. Where in all the world can we discover

"facts" which will speak more plainly or significantly for the truth

of transmutation than the facts of comparative morphology and

physiology; than the facts of the rudimentary organs and of embryonic

development; than the facts revealed by fossils and the geographical

distribution of organisms--in short, than the collective recognised

facts of the most diverse provinces of biological science?

But I am in error--the certain proof that Virchow demands in order to

be perfectly satisfied with the evidence, is to be supplied by

"experiment, the test as well as the highest means of evidence." This

demand, that the doctrine of descent should be grounded on experiment,

is so perverse and shows such ignorance of the very essence of our

theory, that though we have never been surprised at hearing it

continually repeated by ignorant laymen, from the lips of a Virchow it

has positively astounded us. What can in this case be proved by

experiment, and what can experiment prove?

"The variability of species, the transformation of species, the

transition of a species into one or more new varieties," is the

answer. Now, so far as these facts can be proved by experiment, they

actually have long since been experimentally proved in the completest

manner. For what are the numberless trials of artificial selection for

breeding purposes which men have practised for thousand of years in

breeding domestic animals and cultivated plants, but physiological

experiments which prove the transformation of species? As an example

we may refer to the different races of horses and pigeons. The swift

race-horse and the heavy pack-horse, the graceful carriage-horse and

the sturdy cart-horse, the huge dray-horse and the dwarfed pony--these

and many other "races" are so different from each other, that if we

had found them wild we should certainly have described them as quite

different varieties of one species, or even representatives of

different species. Undoubtedly, these so-called "races" and "sports"

of the horse tribe differ from each other in a much greater degree

than do the zebra, the quagga, the mountain horse, and the other wild

varieties of the horse, which every zoologist distinguishes as "bonae

species." And yet all these artificial varieties, which man has

designedly produced by selection, are descended from a single common

parent-form, from one wild "true variety." The same is the case with

the numerous and highly differing varieties of pigeons. Domestic

pigeons and carrier-pigeons, turbits and cropper-pigeons, fantail

pigeons and owls, tumblers and pouters, trumpeters and laughing

pigeons (or Indian doves), and the rest, are all, as Darwin has

convincingly proved, descendants of a single wild variety, the

rock-pigeon (_Columba livia_). And how wonderfully various they are,

not only in general form, size, and colouring, but in the particular

form of the skull, the beak, the feet, and so forth! They differ much

more in every respect each from the others than the numerous wild

varieties which, in systems of ornithology, are recognised as true

varieties, and even as true species. It is the same with the different

artificial varieties of apples, pears, pansies, dahlias, and so on; in

short, of almost all the domestic varieties of animals and plants. We

would lay particular stress on the fact that these artificial species

which man has produced or created by artificial breeding and through

experimental transformation out of one original species, differ far

more one from another in physiological as well as in morphological

conditions than the natural species in a wild state. With these it is

self-evident that any proof by experiment of a common origin is wholly

impossible. For, so soon as we subject any wild variety of animal or

plant to such an experiment, we bring it under the conditions of

artificial breeding.

That the morphological conception of a Species is not a positive but

only a relative conception, and that it has no other absolute or

positive value than those other similar system-categories--sports,

varieties, races, tribes, families, classes--is now acknowledged by

every systematiser who forms an honest and unprejudiced judgment of

the practical systematic distinction of species. From the very nature

of the case there are no limits to arbitrary discretion in this

department, and there are no two systematists who are at one in every

instance; this one separating forms as true varieties which that one

does not. (Compare on this point "History of Creation," vol. i., p.

273.) The conception of variety or species has a different value in

every small or large department of systematic Zoology and Botany.

But the conception of species has just as little any fixed

physiological value. In respect to this we must especially insist that

the question of hybrid offspring, the last corner of refuge of all the

defenders of the constancy of species, has at present lost all

significance as bearing on the conception of species. For we know now,

through numerous and reliable experiences and experiments, that two

different true varieties can frequently unite and produce fertile

hybrids (as the hare and rabbit, lion and tiger, many different kinds

of the carp and trout tribes, of willows, brambles, and others); and

in the second place, the fact is equally certain that descendants of

one and the same species which, according to the dogma of the old

schools, could always effect a fertile union under certain

circumstances, either cannot effect such a union or produce only

barren hybrids (the Porto-Santo rabbit, the different races of horses,

dogs, roses, hyacinths, &c.; see "History of Creation," vol. i., p.

146).

For a certain proof that the conception of species rests on a

subjective abstraction and has a merely relative value--like the

conception of genus, family, order, class, &c.--no class of animals is

of so much importance as that of the Sponges. In it the fluctuating

forms vary with such unexampled indefiniteness and variability as to

make all distinction of species quite illusory. Oscar Schmidt has

already pointed this out in the siliceous sponges and keratose

sponges; and I, in my monograph, in three volumes, on the Calcareous

Sponges (the result of five years of most accurate investigations of

this small animal group), have pointed out that we may at pleasure

distinguish 3, or 21, or 111, or 289, or 591 different species. I also

believe that I have thus convincingly demonstrated how all these

different forms of the calcareous sponges may quite naturally, and

without any forcing, be traced to a single common parent-form, the

simple--and not hypothetical, but existing at this present day--the

simple Olynthus. Hence I think I have here produced the most positive

analytical evidence of the transformation of species, and of the unity

of the derivation of all the species of a given group of animals, that

is generally possible.

Properly, I might spare myself these disquisitions on the question of

species, for Virchow does not go into this main question of the theory

of descent--but this is very characteristic of his attitude. And just

as he nowhere thoroughly discusses the doctrine of transformation,

neither does he enter generally on the refutation of any of the other

certain proofs of the doctrine of descent which we in fact possess at

the present day. Neither the morphological nor the physiological

arguments for the theory of descent, neither the rudimentary organs

nor the embryonic forms, neither the paleontological nor the

chronological argument are anywhere closely examined and tested as to

their worth or their worthlessness as "certain proofs." On the

contrary, Virchow takes them quite easily, sets them aside, and

declares that "certain proofs" of the doctrine of descent do not

exist, but remain to be discovered. To be sure, he does not indicate

where they are to be sought, nor can he indicate it. How is this

strange conduct to be explained? How is it possible that a

distinguished naturalist should resist the most important step forward

of modern natural science without in any way specially investigating

it, without even practically testing and refuting the most weighty

arguments in its favour? To this question there is but one answer.

Virchow is not generally intimate with the modern doctrine of

evolution, and does not possess that knowledge of natural science

which is indispensable for any well-grounded judgment on it.

After collecting and carefully reading all that Virchow, during many

years, had written against evolution, I arrived at the conviction that

he had not thoroughly read either Darwin's great work on the Origin of

Species, nor any other work on the theory of descent, nor had he

thought the matter out with such attention as so serious and intricate

a subject absolutely demands. Virchow did with these works as it has

been his well-known custom to do with many others--he hastily turned

over the pages, caught at a few leading words, and without any farther

trouble he has discoursed upon them, and, which is worst of all, has

perpetuated these discourses through the press.

To excuse this conduct, and to account for Virchow's enigmatical

position in the battle of evolution, we must consider what changes

this highly-gifted and meritorious man has gone through in the course

of the last thirty years. The most important and fruitful part of his

life and labours was indisputably during the eight years when he

resided in Wuerzburg, from 1848 to 1856. There Virchow, with all the

keenness of his youthful intellect, with a sacred enthusiasm for

scientific truth, with indefatigable powers of work and the rarest

insight, worked out that glorious reform of scientific medicine which

will shine through all time as a star of the first magnitude in the

history of medical science. In Wuerzburg, Virchow elaborated that

comprehensive application of the cellular theory to pathology which

culminates in the conception that the cell is an independent living

elementary organism, and that our human organism, like that of all the

higher animals, is merely a congeries of cells--a highly fertile

conception, which Virchow now denies as resolutely as he then

supported it. In Wuerzburg, twenty-five years since, I sat devoutly at

his feet, and received from him with enthusiasm that clear and simple

doctrine of the mechanics of all vital activity--a truly monistic

doctrine, which Virchow now undoubtedly opposes where formerly he

defended it. In Wuerzburg, finally, he wrote those incomparable

critical and historical leading articles which are the ornament of the

first ten yearly series of his "Archives" of pathological anatomy. All

that Virchow effected as the great pioneer of reform in medicine, and

by which he won imperishable honour in the scientific treatment of

disease,--all this was either carried out or preconceived in Wuerzburg;

and even the celebrated "Cellular Pathology," a course of lectures

which he delivered during the first year and a half after quitting

Wuerzburg for Berlin, consists only of the collected and matured fruits

of which the blossoms are due to Wuerzburg.

In the autumn of 1856 Virchow left Wuerzburg to settle in Berlin. The

exchange of a narrow sphere of labours for a wider one, of small means

and appliances for greater ones, proved unfavourable in this case, as

in many similar cases. Since he has been in Berlin, in a "great

Institution," and with luxurious appliances, all the scientific

results which Virchow has as yet brought to light are not to be

compared, either as to quality or quantity, to the grand and immortal

achievements which he himself effected in the little institute of

Wuerzburg with the scantiest means--a new proof of the maxim enunciated

by me, and hitherto never confuted, that "the scientific results of an

institute are in inverse proportion to its size." (See "The Aim and

Methods of Modern Evolution."[14])

Still more grave is the circumstance that, since settling in Berlin,

Virchow has more and more exchanged his theoretical scientific

activity for practical political life. It is well known how prominent

a part he plays there in the Prussian Chamber of Representatives, how

he raised himself to be the leader of the party of progress, and, to

give this political position a broader basis, took part in the

representation of the citizens of the capital; how he has taken a most

active interest, as city commissioner, in all the petty anxieties and

concerns which the charge of such a city as Berlin entails. I am far

from blaming, as many have blamed, the political and civic activity to

which Virchow has indefatigably devoted his best powers. If a man

feels in himself the inclination and vocation with strength and talent

enough, to play a conspicuous political part, by all means let him do

so; but verily I do not envy him; for the satisfaction which is

derived from the most successful and fruitful political activity is

not, to my taste, to be compared with that pure and disinterested

satisfaction of the mind which results from absorption in serious and

difficult scientific labours. In the turmoil of the political and

social struggle, even the most splendid civic crown will be dulled by

the stifling dust of practical life, which never reaches the ethereal

heights of pure science and never rests on the laurels of the

thoughtful investigator. However, as I have said, that is a matter of

taste. If Virchow really believes that he is doing a greater service

to humanity by his practical political life in Berlin than he

formerly did by his theoretical scientific work in Wuerzburg, that is

his affair; but for all that, in his former sphere he was

incomparable, and cannot be replaced; in the latter this is not the

case.

If a distinguished man, be he never so remarkable for uncommon power

of work and universal gifts, passes the whole day in the friction of

political party-struggles, and throws himself as well into all the

petty and wearisome details of daily civic life, it is impossible for

him to maintain the requisite feeling for the progress of

science--particularly when it advances so rapidly and incessantly as

is the case in our day. It is therefore quite intelligible that

Virchow should soon have lost this feeling, and in the course of the

last two decades have become more and more estranged from science. And

this estrangement has at last led to so complete a change in his

fundamental views, to such a metapsychosis, that the present Virchow

of 1878 is hardly in a position to understand the youthful Virchow of

1848.

We have seen a similar mental change occur contemporaneously in our

greatest naturalist, Carl Ernst von Baer. This gifted and profound

thinker and biologist, whose name marks a new epoch in the history of

evolution, had in his later years become wholly incompetent even to

understand those most important problems of his youthful labours

which opened up new paths of inquiry. While in his early years he laid

down principles of the greatest value to our modern doctrine of

evolution, and even went very near to adopting this hypothesis into

his system, at a later period he utterly denied it, and by his

writings on Darwinism proved that he was no longer generally capable

of mastering this difficult problem. As I am one of Von Baer's warmest

admirers, and in my "Evolution of Man," as well as in the "History of

Creation," and in other places, have most emphatically expressed that

sincere esteem, I thought I might venture to forbear from calling

attention to the discrepancy between the lucid, monistic principles of

Von Baer in his youth, and the confused dualistic views of his old

age. But as many opponents of Darwinism--and among them particularly

the Old Catholic philosopher of Munich, Huber, who has written a

series of articles in the "Augsburger Zeitung"--have made constant

capital out of the harmless talk of the feeble old Von Baer, I must in

this place explicitly declare that this dualistic prating of the old

man is quite incapable of shaking the monistic principles of the young

and enterprising pioneers of science, or of giving them the lie.

In his autobiography Von Baer gives us the explanation of this

striking contradiction. In 1834 he entirely and for ever abandoned

the province of the history of development, at which for twenty years

he had laboured incessantly, and where he had earned splendid laurels.

To escape from the haunting and importunate ideas of the science which

had so wholly absorbed him, he fled from Koenigsberg to Petersburg, and

subsequently busied himself in scientific inquiries of a quite

different character. Twenty-five long years passed by, and when

Darwin's work appeared in 1859, Von Baer had too long undergone a

metapsychosis to be able to understand it. In Von Baer, as in Virchow,

the course of this remarkable metapsychosis is highly instructive, and

will itself afford to the thoughtful psychologist an interesting

evidence of the doctrine of evolution.

However, the lack of comprehension of our modern evolution-hypothesis

is easier to explain in Virchow's case than in Von Baer's, for this

reason: morphological knowledge was greatly lacking to Virchow, while

Von Baer possessed it in the highest degree. Now morphology is

precisely that very department of inquiry in which our theory of

descent has its deepest and strongest roots, and has matured the most

glorious fruits of knowledge. The study of organic forms, or

morphology, is thus, more than any other science, interested in the

doctrine of descent, because through this doctrine it first obtained a

practical knowledge of effective causes, and was able to raise itself

from the humble rank of a descriptive study of _forms_ to the high

position of an analytical science of _form_. It is true that by the

beginning of this century the most comprehensive branch of

morphology--_i.e._, comparative anatomy--which was founded by Cuvier

and splendidly developed by Johannes Mueller, had laid the foundations

on which to build a truly philosophical science of form. The enormous

mass of various empirical material, which had been accumulated by

descriptive systematists and by the dissections of zootomists since

the time of Linnaeus and Pallas, had already been abundantly matured

and utilised in many ways for philosophic purposes by the synthetic

principles of comparative anatomy. But even the most important

universal laws of organisation--of which the old system of comparative

anatomy was one--had to take refuge in mystical ideas of a plan of

structure and of creative final causes (_causae finales_); they were

incapable of arriving at a true and clear perception of effective

mechanical causes (_causae efficientes_). This last, most difficult,

and grandest problem, Charles Darwin was the first to solve in 1859,

by setting Lamarck's theory of descent, which was already fifty years

old, on a firm footing by his own theory of selection. By this

hypothesis it was first made possible to fit together the rich

materials which had been previously amassed, into the splendid

edifice of the mechanical science of form. (See my "General

Morphology," vol. i. chap. iv.)

The immeasurable step which Darwin thus made in organic morphology can

be adequately appreciated only by those who, like myself, were brought

up in the school of the old teleological morphology, and whose eyes

were suddenly opened by the theory of selection to a comprehension of

that greatest of all biological riddles, the creation of specific

forms. The dogma of creation, the mystic and dualistic doctrine of the

isolated creation of each separate variety, was annihilated at one

blow; the belief in transmutation has now for ever taken its

place--the mechanistic and monistic doctrine of the metamorphosis of

organic forms, of the descent of all the species of one natural class

from a common parent-form. How complete a change the science of

mechanical morphology has by this means been compelled to undergo, I

have endeavoured to point out in my "General Morphology;" and any one

who wishes to convince himself clearly of what an enormous revolution

has been brought about, particularly in comparative anatomy, may

compare the "Outlines of Comparative Anatomy" (Grundzuege der

vergleichenden Anatomie), by Carl Gegenbaur, 1870, and the latest

edition of his "Elements" (Grundrisses), with the old text-books of

that science.

Virchow has no suspicion even of all these immeasurable strides in

morphology, for this department always lay out of his ken. His great

reforms in pathology were founded in the province of physiology, and

more especially in cellular physiology. But within the last twenty

years these two main branches of biological inquiry have grown more

and more apart. The great Johannes Mueller was the last biologist who

was able to keep these departments of organic inquiry together, and

who won equally immortal honours in both divisions of the subject.

After Mueller's death in 1858 they fell asunder. Physiology, as the

science especially of the functions or living activity of the

organism, addressed itself more and more to exact and experimental

methods: morphology, on the contrary, as the science of the forms and

structure of animals and plants, could naturally make but very small

use of this method; it must take refuge more and more in the history

of evolution, and so constitute an historical natural science. It was

on this very historical and genetic method of morphology, in

contradistinction to the exact and experimental method of physiology,

that I based my Munich address; and if Virchow in his answer had

really and thoroughly refuted this position, instead of fighting with

mere phrases and denunciations, this radical opposition would have

been well worthy of the fullest discussion. At the same time I have

no wish to reproach Virchow for being wholly fettered by the one-sided

views of the modern school-physiology, nor because morphology lies so

far out of his ken that he has not been able to form an independent

judgment of its aims and methods; but when, in spite of all this, he

on every occasion lets fall a disparaging judgment of it, we must

dispute his competence. It is true that in his Munich address he

emphasises the statement, "That which graces me best is that I know my

ignorance," by printing it in italics. I only regret that I am forced

to deny his possession of this very grace. Virchow does not know how

ignorant he is of morphology, else he would never have uttered his

annihilating verdict on it, else he would not continually designate

the study of the theory of descent as dilettanteism and vain dreaming,

as "a fanciful private speculation which is now making its way in

several departments of natural science." In truth, Virchow does me

greatly too much honour when he designates as my "personal crotchet"

an idea which for the last ten years has been the most precious common

possession of all morphological science. If Virchow were not so

unfamiliar with the literature of morphology, he must have known that

it is penetrated throughout by this principle of descent, that every

morphological inquiry which conscientiously pursues a well-considered

problem now assumes the doctrine of descent as granted and

indisputable. Of all this he is ignorant, and so it is intelligible

that he should continue to demand "certain proofs" of this hypothesis,

although those proofs have long since been produced.

FOOTNOTES:

[12] Vol. ii., p. 334 of translation.

[13] London: C. Kegan Paul & Co. 1879.

[14] Jena, Zeitschriften fuer Naturwissenschaft, 1875. Vol. x.

Supplement.

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