PART II.

THOUGHTS TOWARDS A THEORY OF THE DEVELOPMENT

OF ORGANISMS 101

THE BIOLOGICAL PROBLEM OF TO-DAY

INTRODUCTION.

What is development? Does it imply preformation or epigenesis? This

perplexing question of biology has reappeared recently as a problem of the

day. Of late years there have been set forth contradictory doctrines, each

seeking to explain the process by which the fertilised egg-cell, an

apparently simple beginning, gives rise to the adult organism, which often

is exceedingly complicated, and which has the capacity of producing new

beginnings like that from which it itself arose.

The opposing views of to-day were in existence centuries ago, and they are

known in the history of science as the theory of preformation or evolution,

and the theory of epigenesis. That most of the great biologists of the

seventeenth and eighteenth centuries were decided upholders of evolution

was the natural result of the contemporary knowledge of facts. For they

knew only the external signs of the process of development. All they saw

was the embryo becoming adult, the bud growing out into a blossom, as the

result of a process in which nutrition transformed smaller to greater

parts. And so they regarded development as a simple process of growth

resulting from nutrition. Their mental picture of the germ or beginning of

an organism was an exceedingly reduced image of the organism, an image

requiring for its development nothing but nutrition and growth. That the

material eye failed to recognise the miniature they attributed to the

imperfection of our senses, and to the extreme minuteness and resulting

opacity of the object.

That it might satisfy our human craving for final causes, the theory of

preformation had to be accompanied by a corresponding explanation of the

origin of the miniatures. Biologists had already abandoned the error of

such spontaneous generation as the origin of flies from decaying meat, and,

in its place, had accepted the doctrine of the continuity of life,

formulating it in the phrase, _Omne vivum e vivo_ (Each life from a life),

and in the similar phrase, _Omne vivum ex ovo_ (Each life from an egg). One

creature issued from another, within which it had lain as a germ, and the

series was continuous. Thus, the theory of preformation gave rise to the

conception that living things were a series of cases or wrappings, germ

folded within germ. The origin of life was relegated to the beginning, at

the creation of the world: it became the work of a supernatural Creator,

who, when He formed the first creatures, formed with them, and placed

within them, the germs of all subsequent creatures.

To reckon at their proper value the theory of preformation, and, still

more, the doctrine of enfolded germs, the standard of appreciation must not

be the present range of our knowledge. They must be viewed historically, in

the light of the knowledge of these days.

Nowadays it is not so much pure reason as a wider empirical knowledge of

nature, with its consequent transformation of ideas, that makes the

doctrine of enfoldment difficult. Abstract thought sets no limit to

smallness or greatness; for mathematics deals with the infinitely small and

with the infinitely great. So long as actual observation had not determined

the limits of minuteness in the cases in question, there were no logical

difficulties in the doctrine of enfolded germs. The biology of earlier

centuries had not our empirical standard. What appeared then to be a simple

organic material we have resolved into millions of cells, themselves

consisting of different chemical materials. The chemical materials have

been analysed into their elements, and chemistry and physics have

determined the dimensions of the ultimate molecules of these. It is only

because the minute constitution of matter is no longer a secret to us that

the theory of germ within germ now touches the absurd.

It was very different in earlier days; the acutest biologists and

philosophers were evolutionists, and an epigenetic conception of the

process of development could find no foothold alongside the apparent

logical consistency of the theory of preformation.

Wolff's _Theoria Generationis_ (1759) failed to convince his

contemporaries, because he could bring against the closed system of the

evolutionists only isolated observations, and these doubtful of

interpretation; and because, in his time, on account of the rudimentary

state of the methods of research in biology, men attached more importance

to abstract reasoning than to observation. His effort was the more

praiseworthy in that it was observation bearing witness against abstract

and dogmatic conceptions. By means of actual observation he tried to expose

the fallacy in preformation, to show that the organism was not fully formed

in the germ, but that all development proceeded by new formation, or

epigenesis; that the germ consisted of unorganised organic material, which

became formed or organised only little by little in the course of its

development, and that Nature really was able to produce an organism from an

unorganised material simply by her inherent forces.

It is interesting to display the essential contrast between preformation

and epigenesis in the poetical words of Wolff himself. 'You must remember,'

so run his words in the second argument against the probability of

preformation, 'that an evolution would be a phenomenon formed in its real

essence by God at the Creation, but created in condition invisible, and so

as to remain invisible for long before it would become visible. See, then,

that a _phenomenon_ of enfolding is a miracle, differing from ordinary

miracles only in these: first, it was at the creation of the world that God

produced it; second, it remained invisible for long before it became

visible. In truth, therefore, all organic bodies would be miracles. Would

not this change for us the presence of Nature? Would it not spoil her of

her beauty? Hitherto we had a living Nature, displaying endless changes by

her own forces. Now it would be a fabric displaying change in seeming only,

in truth and essence remaining unchanged and as it was constructed, save

that it gradually becomes more and more used up. Formerly it was a Nature

destroying herself and creating herself anew, only that endless changes

might become visible and new sides be brought to light. Now it would be a

lifeless mass shedding off piece after piece until the stock should come to

an end.'

None the less, who seeks in Wolff's 'Theoria Generationis' an account of

the means or forces by which Nature builds up organic forms will seek in

vain. The _vis essentialis_ (inherent force) with which Wolff endowed his

plastic organic material, or the _nisus formativus_ (formative force),

afterwards suggested to science by Blumenbach--what are they but empty

words by which men seek to grasp in thought what has eluded them? Wolff's

epigenesis was not a complete explanation--indeed, from its fundamental

conception it could not possibly be such. For investigation of the natural

forces by which development proceeds can advance only slowly and step by

step, and for long will constitute the foremost task of biology. The

prosecution of biological investigation will continuously endow the theory

of epigenesis with a fuller and fuller meaning, but will never transform it

into a solution final in the sense of the theory of preformation.

It seems to me that the significance of Wolff's doctrine lies in this: it

rejected the purely formal theory of preformation because actual

observations were against it. Thereby Wolff freed research from the

straitened bonds of prejudice, and entered the only possible path by which

science can advance--the path along which the biology of our century has

made so great advances.

Biologists of to-day approach the problem of organic development equipped

with incomparably greater knowledge and with more delicate methods of

research. But in our thoughts to-day, as we discuss the essential nature of

the process of organic development and the mutual causal relations between

rudiments and their products, the same contradictory views are present,

altered only as our methods of expression have altered.

In a striking fashion Roux[1] has contrasted the opposing ideas inherent in

our modern conception of development, but yet identical with those which

formerly found expression in the theories of preformation and epigenesis.

By the term "embryonic development," in its ordinary acceptation, we

understand the appearance of visible complexity. But when we speak of the

visibility of the resulting complexity, we use a subjective term, the value

of which is relative to the human eye. Going further into the matter, we

must break up the conception into two parts, and distinguish between the

actual production of complexity and the mere transformation of complexity

from a condition invisible to us into complexity visible to our senses.

'The two kinds of development I have indicated bear a relation to each

other that recalls the old opposing doctrines of preformation and

epigenesis, the alternatives of a time when it was a task--perhaps the only

possible task--to record the completed results of the stages in development

as they became complete--in fact, to record the externally visible changes

of shape. In this descriptive investigation of the development of external

form, epigenesis, the successive formation of new shapes, gained a complete

victory over evolution, the mere becoming visible of pre-existing details

of shape.

'The closer investigation of embryonic development that is necessary in a

search for causes brings us once more against the old alternatives, and

compels us to a closer scrutiny of them.

'In this, if we still retain the old terms, epigenesis would mean not

merely the building up of complicated form through the agency of a

substratum, apparently simple, but perhaps with an extraordinarily

complicated, minute structure, but, in the strictest sense of the term, the

new formation of complexity, an actual increase of complexity. Evolution,

on the other hand, would imply the mere becoming visible of pre-existing

latent differentiation. Clearly, according to these general definitions,

occurrences which outwardly exhibit epigenesis may be in reality partial or

complete evolution. In fact, the deepest consideration leads us again to

the original question: Is embryonic development epigenesis or evolution? Is

it the new formation of complexity, or is it the becoming visible of

complexity previously invisible to us?'

Thus, in our own days, after the controversy has been at rest for long,

biologists are assembled in opposing groups, one under the standard of

epigenesis, another under that of preformation.

Weismann[2] leads the van for preformation; for the last ten years he has

occupied himself with the theoretical discussion of the questions set forth

above; and now, in a recent treatise, _The Germplasm_, he has combined his

views, already many times modified, in a coherent theory. Now he explains

candidly that he has been driven to the view that epigenetic development

does not exist. 'In the first chapter of my book,' he remarks, 'will be

found an actual proof of the reality of evolution, a proof so simple and

obvious that I can scarcely understand to-day how it could have escaped my

notice so long' (_Germplasm_, p. 14). Elsewhere he writes: 'I believe that

I have established that ontogeny can be explained only by evolution, and

not by epigenesis.'

A mental process, which consciously or unconsciously plays a great part

with evolutionists, and helps to determine their conclusions, is

characteristic of the direction of their inquiries. They set out from the

fact that the characters of the parents, often to the smallest detail, are

transmitted to children by means of the germ or rudiment; they conclude

that the active causes of all the complexity that arises must be contained

in the apparently homogeneous germ, embryological differentiation being a

spontaneous process. It follows that the apparent homogeneity is, in

reality, latent complexity which becomes patent during the progress of

ontogeny. Latent complexity implies a material substratum, consisting of

actual particles for which many different names have been found. As our

senses can give us no experimental knowledge of these particles, which are

so small as to be invisible, modern evolutionists attempt to picture them,

in imagination, by reflecting all the visible characters of the perfected

organism upon the undivided egg-cell, so peopling that globule of yolk with

a system of minute particles corresponding in quality and in spacial

arrangement with the larger parts of the adult.

Weismann has practised this art in the true spirit of a virtuoso, and has

elaborated it into a novel mode of biological investigation. Take an

example;--'It would be impossible,' he says in _The Germplasm_ (p. 138),

'for any small portion of the human skin to undergo a hereditary and

independent change from the germ onwards, unless a small vital element

corresponding to this particular part of the skin existed in the germ

substance, a variation in this element causing a corresponding variation in

the part concerned. Were this not the case, birth-marks would not exist.'

Thus, in a slightly altered fashion, we come again to the position of the

evolutionists of last century, for whom the germ was an extremely small

miniature of the adult creature. The new evolution, as Weismann in especial

has established it, seems to me to differ from the old doctrine only in two

important points; and these must be placed to the credit of the greater

scientific knowledge of our century. The first point concerns the relative

positions of the parts in the patent and latent conditions. The older

evolutionists assumed that these were identical, that the germ was a true

miniature. It is true that Weismann regards his almost countless germinal

particles as being held together in an architectural structure of almost

inconceivable complexity. For him the germ is an exceedingly complicated

living being, a microcosm in the truest sense, in which every independently

variable part that ever appears throughout the whole life is represented by

a living particle, and in which each of the living particles is endowed

with a definite, inherited position, a constitution, and the power of rapid

multiplication. It is upon the qualities of these ultimate particles that

he makes depend the qualities of the corresponding parts of the adult, the

parts that are cells as well as the parts built of many cells. As, however,

during visible development the parts of the embryo undergo many changes of

position and metamorphoses, Weismann is compelled to make the assumption

that the germ, as a micro-organism, is not simply a miniature of the adult,

but that its minute particles have an arrangement totally different from

that of the corresponding parts in the adult organism.

The second point is the origin of each new generation. To explain the

continuity of development, the old evolutionists held that the generations

lay enfolded one within another. Weismann avoids this difficulty by

endowing his germs with divisibility, but he gives us no proof that

division could possibly take place in the case of structures composed of

innumerable particles built up into a definite and most complicated

architectural system.

Although the new evolution differs from the old in the points mentioned

above, the two theories obviously agree very closely in the nature of their

arguments and conclusions. When, to satisfy our craving for causality,

biologists transform the visible complexity of the adult organism into a

latent complexity of the germ, and try to express this by imaginary tokens,

by minute and complicated particles cohering into a system, they are making

a phantasmal image which, indeed, apparently may satisfy the craving for

causality (to satisfy which it was invented), but which eludes the control

of concrete thought, by dealing with a complexity that is latent, and

perhaps only imaginary. Thus, craftily, they prepare for our craving after

causality a slumbrous pillow, in the manner of the philosophers who would

refer the creation of the world to a supernatural principle.

But their pillow of sleep is dangerous for biological research; he who

builds such castles in the air easily mistakes his imaginary bricks,

invented to explain the complexity, for real stones. He entangles himself

in the cobwebs of his own thoughts, which seem to him so logical, that

finally he trusts the labour of his mind more than Nature herself.

'Experiment,' says Weismann in _The Germplasm_, 'is not the only way to

reach general views, nor is it always the safest means of discrimination,

although at first it seems conclusive....[3] It seems to me that in this

case we can draw more prudent conclusions from the general facts of

inheritance than from the results of experiments that are neither quite

clear nor undubious, although in themselves they are most valuable, and

deserve the most careful consideration. If one remembers what was said in

my section on the architecture of the germplasm as the basis of the theory

of determinants, it will be agreed with me that ontogeny must find its

explanation in evolution, and not in epigenesis.'[4]

I take up a more epigenetic position, and years ago I attacked evolutionary

doctrines in many of their modifications.[5] Thus, in the _Studien zur

Blaetter Theorie_, published by Richard Hertwig and myself, I combated the

supposed law that the germinal layers histologically were primitive organs.

Next, in a pamphlet entitled _The Problem of Fertilisation: a Theory of

Heredity_, I attempted to disprove the principle of His that there were

organ-building foci in the germ. In my treatise _On Ovogenesis and

Spermatogenesis in the Nematodes_, I declared against the suppositions

involved in Weismann's doctrine of the germplasm, and sharply distinguished

the theory, simultaneously propounded by Strasburger and myself, that the

nucleus is the bearer of the hereditary material, from the evolutionistic

interpretation given it by Weismann.

A paper on 'The Blastopore and Spina Bifida,' and an occasional lecture on

'Old and New Theories of Development,' gave me the opportunity of dealing

with Roux's mosaic theory, although that not only shows learning, but

apparently is the outcome of experiment. I advocated in its place the

theory that 'the embryological development of an organism is no mosaic

work. The parts of an organism develop in relation to each other, the

development of a part depending upon the development of the whole.' The

labours of Roux, as well as the valuable researches of Driesch, induced me

to carry out a series of experiments with the object of getting a surer

basis for my epigenetic conception of development. The results of these

were published recently under the title, _On the Value of the First

Cleavage-cells in the Formation of the Organs of Embryos_.

In the latter treatise I confined myself advisedly to the exposition and

interpretation of the results of my investigations, having in view a

subsequent discussion of the more theoretical bearings of my results. It is

this that sees the light in the present book.

As for many years I have occupied myself with the problem of development,

pursuing observation and framing theory, there is due to myself and to

others an exposition of the position I have assumed in many of my

treatises, but in a more connected and elaborated fashion than has been

possible hitherto. This course is the more imperative, as in his recent

_magnum opus_ on the germplasm Weismann has propounded a theory of

evolution wrought with the greatest care and acuteness, and totally

irreconcilable with my conclusions. The chief differences between my views

and those of Weismann have now become clearer and more tangible than ever.

It is true that in my text-book, _On the Structure and Function of

Cells_,[6] published in the autumn of 1892, I gave a short account of my

theory of heredity in chapter ix., 'The Cell as the Material Beginning of

the Organism.' But in that I could not deal with Weismann's work, which

appeared simultaneously, and, moreover, in a text-book it was impossible to

do more than sketch my views.

My present task is twofold; it has both a positive and a negative side.

First, I have to examine the arguments recently alleged in favour of the

theory of preformation, testing them to reveal their inherent weaknesses,

and to controvert their fallacies. As Weismann unquestionably is the chief

of those who have advocated preformation, and has made a closed system of

it again, it is necessary for me to take special notice of his conception

as it is set forth in _The Germplasm_. Although I am no friend of polemic,

the case demands it. For the decision of a question so momentous as the

relative scopes of evolution and epigenesis in embryology must have an

important bearing on the future of biology, upon its aim and the method of

research.

But criticism of Weismann's hypothesis is not to be an end in itself; I am

more anxious to show the lines upon which, as I think, the real meaning of

the process of organic development will come to be learned. In a second

section, therefore, I shall explain my own views in greater detail, and, as

I hope, place them on a firmer foundation than formerly was possible.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Wilhelm Roux in _Zeitschrift fuer Biologie_, vol. xxi. (1885): _Zuer

Orientirung ueber einige Probleme der Embryonalen Entwicklung._

[2] See Weismann's _Collected Essays_, Clarendon Press (2nd edit.), vol.

i., 1891, vol. ii., 1892; and Weismann's _Germplasm_, Walter Scott's

Contemporary Science Series, 1893. The references in this translation are

to the latter volume.

[3] _The Germplasm_, p. 137.

[4] _Ibid._, p. 138.

[5] The ideas expressed in this book may be found, in an elementary

condition, in various publications of my own, and written in conjunction

with my brother, Richard Hertwig: Oscar and Richard Hertwig, _Die

Actinien_; Jena, 1879 (pp. 203-217). Oscar Hertwig, _Das Problem der

Befruchtung und der Isotropie des Eies, eine Theorie der Vererbung_; Jena,

1884. Oscar Hertwig, _Vergleich der Ei- und Samenbildung bei Nematoden,

Arch. f. Mikrosk. Anatomie_, vol. xxxvi., 1890, pp. 77-128. Oscar Hertwig,

_Urmund und Spina bifida, Arch. f. Mikrosk. Anatomie_, vol. xxxix., 1892,

pp. 476-492. Oscar Hertwig, _Aeltere und neuere Entwicklungstheorien_;

Berlin, 1892. Oscar Hertwig, _The Cell_: Sonnenschein; London, 1895. Oscar

Hertwig, _Ueber den Werth der ersten Furchungszellen fuer die Organbildung

des Embryo, Arch. f. Mikrosk. Anatomie_, vol. xlii., 1893. The chief other

writers to whom I refer are: Herbert Spencer, _Principles of Biology_.

Darwin, _Pangenesis, a Provisional Hypothesis (in Variation of Plants and

Animals under Domestication)_. Haeckel, _Die Perigenesis der Plastidule_.

Weismann, _loc. cit._, p. 8. Naegeli, _Mechanisch-physiologische Theorie

der Abstammungslehre_; Muenchen, 1884. Strasburger, _Neue Untersuchungen

ueber den Befruchtungsvorgang bei den Phanerogamen als Grundlage fuer eine

Theorie der Zeugung_, 1884. H. de Vries, _Intracellulare Pangenesis_. W.

His, _Unsere Koerperform und das physiologische Problem ihrer Entstehung_,

1874. W. Roux, _loc. cit._, p. 6. Driesch, _loc. cit._, p. 48.

[6] An English translation, _The Cell_, was published by Swan Sonnenschein

and Co. in 1895.

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