CHAPTER IV

VERTEBRATES: BACKBONE AND BRAIN

In tracing man's ancestry from fish upward we ought properly to

describe three or four fish, an amphibian, a reptile, and then take

up the series of mammalian ancestors. But we have not sufficient

time for so extended a study, and a simpler method may answer our

purpose fairly well. Let us fix our attention on the few organs

which still show the capacity of marked development, and follow each

one of these rapidly in its upward course.

We must remember that there are changes in the vegetative organs.

The digestive and excretory systems improve. But this improvement is

not for the sake of these vegetative functions. Brain and muscle

demand vastly more fuel, and produce vastly more waste which must be

removed. At almost the close of the series the reproductive system

undergoes a modification which is almost revolutionary in its

results. But we shall find that this modification is necessitated by

the smaller amount of material which can be spared for this

function; not by its increasing importance, still less its dominance

for its own worth. The vertebrate is like an old Roman; everything

is subordinated to mental and physical power. He is the world

conqueror.

The important changes from fish upward affect the following organs:

1. The skeleton. A light, solid framework must be developed for the

body. 2. The appendages start as fins, and end as the legs and arms

of man. 3. The circulatory and respiratory systems developed so as

to carry with the utmost rapidity and certainty fuel and oxygen to

the muscular and nervous high-pressure engines. Or, to change the

figure, they are the roads along which supplies and munitions can be

carried to the army suddenly mobilized at any point on the frontier.

4. Above all, the brain, especially the cerebrum, the crown and goal

of vertebrate structure. The improvement is now practically

altogether in the animal organs of locomotion and thought. Still,

among these animal organs, the lower systems will lead in point of

time. The brain must to a certain extent wait for the skeleton.

1. The skeleton. The axial skeleton consists, in the lowest fish, of

the notochord, a cylindrical unsegmented rod of cartilage running

nearly the length of the body. This is surrounded by a sheath of

connective tissue, at first merely membranous, later becoming

cartilaginous or gristly. Pieces of cartilage extend upward over the

spinal marrow, and downward around the great aortic artery, forming

the neural and hæmal arches. These unite with the masses of

cartilage surrounding the notochord to form cartilaginous vertebræ,

which may be stiffened by an infiltration of carbonate of lime. The

vertebral column of sharks has reached this stage. Then the

cartilaginous vertebræ ossify and form a true backbone. I have

described the process as if it were very simple. But only the

student of comparative osteology can have any conception of the

number of experiments which were tried in different groups before

the definite mode of forming a bony vertebra was attained. At the

same time the skull was developing in a somewhat similar manner. But

the skull is far more complex in origin and undergoes far more

numerous and important changes than the simpler vertebral column.

Into its history we have no time to enter.

And what shall we say of bone itself as a mere material or tissue,

with its admirable lightness, compactness, and flawlessness. And

every bone in our body is a triumph of engineering architecture. No

engineer could better recognize the direction of strain and stress,

and arrange his rods and columns, arches and buttresses, to suitably

meet them, than these problems are solved in the long bone of our

thigh. And they must be lengthened while the child is leaping upon

them. An engineer is justly proud if he can rebuild or lengthen a

bridge without delaying the passage of a single train. But what

would he say if you asked him to rebuild a locomotive, while it was

running even twenty miles an hour? And yet a similar problem had to

be solved in our bodies.

But the vertebral column is not perfected by fish. The vertebræ with

few exceptions are hollow in front and behind, biconcave; and

between each two vertebræ there is a large cavity still occupied by

the notochord. Thus these vertebræ join one another by their edges,

like two shallow wine-glasses placed rim to rim. Only gradually is

the notochord crowded out so that the vertebræ join by their whole

adjacent surfaces. Even in highest forms, for the sake of mobility,

they are united by washer-like disks of cartilage. Biconcave

vertebræ persisted through the oldest amphibia, reptiles, and

birds. But finally a firm backbone and skull were attained.

2. The appendages. Of these we can say but little. The fish has

oar-like fins, attached to the body by a joint, but themselves

unjointed. By the amphibia legs, with the same regions as our own

and with five toes, have already appeared. The development of the

leg out of the fin is one of the most difficult and least understood

problems of vertebrate comparative anatomy. The legs are at first

weak and scarcely capable of supporting the body. Only gradually do

they strengthen into the fore- and hind-legs of mammals, or into the

legs and wings of birds and old flying reptiles.

3. Changes in the circulatory and respiratory systems. The fish

lives altogether in the water and breathes by gills, but the dipnoi

among fishes breathes by lungs as well as gills. As long as

respiration takes place by gills alone, the circulation is simple;

the blood flows from the heart to the gills, and thence directly all

over the body; the oxygenated blood from the gills does not return

directly to the heart. But the blood from the lungs does return to

the heart; and there at first mixes in the ventricle with the impure

blood which has returned from the rest of the body. Gradually a

partition arises in the ventricle, dividing it into a right and left

half. Thus the two circulations of the venous blood to the lungs,

and of the oxygenated blood over the body, are more and more

separated until, in higher reptiles, they become entirely distinct.

As the animal came on land and breathed the air, more completely

oxygenated blood was carried to the organs, and their activity was

greatly heightened. As more and more heat was produced by the

combustion in muscular and nervous tissues, and less was lost by

conduction, the temperature of the body rose, and in birds and

mammals becomes constant several degrees above the highest summer

temperature of the surrounding air.

The changes in the brain affect mainly the large and small brain.

The cerebellum increases with the greater locomotive powers of the

animal. But its development is evidently limited. The large brain,

or cerebrum, is in fish hardly as heavy as the mid-brain; in

amphibia the reverse is true. In higher recent reptiles the cerebrum

would somewhat outweigh all the other portions of the brain put

together. In mammals it extends upward and backward, has already in

lower forms overspread the mid-brain, and is beginning to cover the

small brain. But this was not so in the earliest mammals. Here the

cerebrum was small, more like that of reptiles. But during the

tertiary period the large brain began to increase with marvellous

rapidity. It was very late in arriving at the period of rapid

development, but it kept on after all the other organs of the body

had settled down into comparative rest, perhaps retrogression.

We have given thus a rapid sketch in outline of the changes in the

most characteristic systems between fish and mammals. Some of the

changes which took place in mammals were along the same lines, but

one at least is so new and unexpected that this highest class

demands more careful and detailed examination.

The mammal is a vertebrate. Hence all its organs are at their best.

But mammals stand, all things considered, at the head of

vertebrates. The skeleton is firm and compact. The muscles are

beautifully moulded and fitted to the skeleton so as to produce the

greatest effect with the least mass and weight of tissue. The

sense-organs are keen, and the eye and ear especially delicate, and

fitted for perception at long range. Yet in all these respects they

are surpassed by birds. As a mere anatomical machine the bird always

seems to me superior to the mammal. It is not easy to see why it

failed, as it has, to reach the goal of possibility of indefinite

development and dominance in the animal world. Why he stopped short

of the higher brain development I cannot tell. The fact remains that

the mammal is pre-eminent in brain power, and that this gave him the

supremacy.

But mammals came very late to the throne, and the probability of

their ever gaining it must for ages have appeared very doubtful.

They seem to have been a fairly old group with a very slow early

development. Reptiles especially, and even birds, were far more

precocious than these slower and weaker forms which crept along the

earth. But reptiles and birds, like many other precocious children,

soon reached the limit of their development. They had muscle, the

mammal brain and nerve; the mammal had the staying power and the

future. Bitter and discouraging must have been the struggle of these

feeble early mammals with their larger, swifter, and more powerful,

reptilian relatives. And yet, perhaps, by this very struggle the

mammal was trained to shrewdness and endurance.

The primitive mammals laid eggs like reptiles or birds. Only two

genera, echidna and platypus, survive to bear witness of these old

oviparous groups, and these only in New Zealand. These retain

several old reptilian characteristics. Their lower position is shown

also by the fact that the temperature of their bodies is, at least,

ten degrees Fahrenheit below that of higher mammals. One of these

carries the egg in a pouch on the ventral surface; the other, living

largely in water, deposits its eggs in a nest in a burrow in the

side of the bank of the stream.

After these came the marsupials. In these the eggs develop in a sort

of uterus; but there is no placenta, in the sense of an organic

connection between the embryo and the uterus of the mother. The

young are at birth exceedingly small and feeble. The adult giant

Kangaroo weighs over one hundred pounds; the young are at birth not

as large as your thumb. They are placed by the mother in a marsupial

pouch on her ventral surface, and here nourished till able to care

for themselves.

Pardon a moment's digression. The marsupials, except the opossum,

are confined to Australia, and the oviparous mammals, or monotremes,

to New Zealand. Formerly the marsupials, at least, ranged all over

Europe and Asia, for we have indisputable evidence in their fossil

remains. But they have survived only in this isolated area, and here

apparently only because their isolation preserved them from the

competition with higher forms. If the Australian continent had not

been thus early cut off from all the rest of the world, the only

trace of both these lower groups would have been the opossum in

America and certain peculiarities in the development of the egg in

higher mammals. This shows us how much weight should be assigned to

the formerly popular argument of the "missing links." The wonder is

not that so many links are missing, but that any of these primitive

forms have come down to us. For we see here another proof of the

fearful extermination of lower forms during the progress of life on

the globe. It seems as if the intermediate forms were less common

among these most recent animals than among the older types. This may

not be true, for it is not easy to compare the gap between two

mammals with that between two worms or insects, and mistakes are

very easily made. But it seems as if extermination had done its work

more ruthlessly among these highest forms than among their humbler

and lower ancestors. I would not lay much weight on such an opinion;

but, if true, it has a meaning and is worthy of study.

In higher, true, placental mammals the period of pregnancy is much

longer, and the young are born in a far higher stage of development,

or rather, growth. The stage of growth at which the young are born

differs markedly in different groups. A new-born kitten is a much

feebler, less developed being than a new-born calf. An embryonic

appendage, the allantois, used in reptiles and birds for

respiration, has here been turned to another purpose. It lays itself

against the walls of the uterus, uterine projections interlock with

those which it puts forth, and the blood of the mother circulates

through a host of capillaries separated from those of the blood

system of the embryo only by the thinnest membrane. This is the

placenta, developed, in part from the allantois of the embryo, in

part from the uterus of the mother. It is not a new organ, but an

old one turned to better and fuller use. In these closely

associated systems of blood-vessels, nutriment and oxygen diffuse

from the blood of the mother into that of the embryo, and thus rapid

growth is assured. The importance and far-reaching effect of this

new modification in the old reproductive system cannot be

over-estimated. The internal intra-uterine development of the young,

and the mammalian habit of suckling them, far more than any other

factors, have made man what he is. Some explanation must be sought

for such a fact.

We have already seen that any animal devotes to reproduction the

balance between income and expenditure of nutriment. Now, the

digestive system is here well developed, and the income is large.

But we have already noticed that, as animals grow larger, the ratio

between the digestive surface and the mass to be supported grows

continually smaller. On account of size alone the mammal has but a

small balance. But the amount of expenditure is proportional to the

mass and activity of the muscular and nervous systems. And the

mammal is, and from the beginning had to be, an exceedingly active,

energetic, and nervous animal. The income has increased, but the

expenses have far outrun the increase. The mammal can devote but

little to reproduction.

Moreover, it requires a large amount of material to form a mammalian

egg, such as that of the monotreme. It requires indefinitely more

nutriment to build a mammal than a worm, for the former is not only

larger and more perfect at birth; it is also vastly more

complicated. The embryonic journey has, so to speak, lengthened out

immensely. One monotreme egg represents more economy and saving than

a thousand eggs of a worm. Moreover, where the individuals are

longer lived and the generations follow one another at longer

intervals, the number of favorable variations and the possibility of

conformity to environment through these is greatly lessened. In such

a group it is of the utmost importance that every egg should

develop; the destruction of a single one is a real and important

loss to the species. It is not enough to produce such an egg; it

must be most scrupulously guarded. Even the egg of the platypus is

deposited in a nest in a hole in the bank, and the female Echidna

carries the egg in a marsupial pouch until it develops.

Notice further that among certain species of fish, amphibia, and

reptiles, the females carry the eggs in the body until the embryos

or young are fairly developed. Viviparous forms are unknown by

birds, probably because this mode of development is incompatible

with flight, their dominant characteristic. Putting these facts

together, what more probable than that certain primitive egg-laying

mammals should have carried the eggs as long as possible in the

uterus. The embryo under these conditions would be better nourished

by a secretion of the uterine glands than by a very large amount of

yolk. The yolk would diminish and the egg decrease in size, and thus

the marsupial mode of development would have resulted. And, given

the marsupial mode of development and an embryo possessing an

allantois, it is almost a physiological necessity that in some forms

at least a placenta should develop. That the placenta has resulted

from some such process of evolution is proven by its different

stages of development in different orders of mammals. And even the

feeblest attachment of the allantois of the embryo to the wall of

the uterus would be of the greatest advantage to the species.

This is not the whole explanation; other factors still undiscovered

were undoubtedly concerned. But even this shows us that the internal

development of the young and the habit of suckling them was a

logical result of mammalian structure and position. The grand

results of this change we shall trace farther on.

The changes from the lower true mammals to the apes are of great

interest, but we can notice only one or two of the more important.

The prosimii, or "half apes," including the lemurs, are nearly all

arboreal forms. Perhaps they were driven to this life by their more

powerful competitors. The arboreal life developed the fingers and

toes, and most of these end, not with a claw, but with a nail. The

little group has much diversity of structure, and at present finds

its home mainly in Madagascar; though in earlier times apparently

occurring all over the globe. The brain is more highly developed

than in the average mammal, but far inferior to that of the apes.

They have a fairly opposable thumb.

The highest mammals are the primates. Their characteristics are the

following: Fingers and toes all armed with nails, the eyes

comparatively near together and fully enclosed in a bony case. The

cerebrum with well-developed furrows covers the other portions of

the brain. There is but one pair of milk-glands, and these on the

breast. The differences between hand and foot become most strongly

marked by the "anthropoid" apes. These have become accustomed to an

upright gait in their climbing; hence the feet are used for

supporting the body and the hands for grasping. Both thumb and

great toe are opposable; but the foot is a true foot, and the hand a

true hand, in anatomical structure. The face, hands, and feet have

mainly lost the covering of hair. They have no tail, or rather its

rudiments are concealed beneath the skin. These include the gibbon,

the orang, the gorilla, and the chimpanzee.

We can sum up the few attainments of mammals in a line. The lower

forms attained the placental mode of embryonic development; the

higher attained upright gait, hands and feet, and a great increase

of brain. Anatomically considered these were but trifles, but the

addition of these trifles revolutionized life on the globe. The

principal anatomical differences between man and the anthropoid ape

are the following: Man is a strictly erect animal. The foot of the

ape is less fitted for walking on the ground, where he usually "goes

on all fours." The skull is almost balanced on the condyles by which

it articulates with the neck, and has but slight tendency to tip

forward. The facial portion, nose and jaws, is less developed and

retracted beneath the larger cranium or brain-case. This has greatly

changed the appearance of the head. Protruding jaws and chin, even

when combined with large cranium and brain, always give man the

appearance of brutality and low intelligence.

The pelvis is broad and comparatively shallow. The legs, especially

the thighs, are long. The foot is long and strong, and rests its

lower surface, not merely the outer margin as in apes, on the

ground. The elastic arch of the instep must be excepted in the above

description, and adds lightness and swiftness to his otherwise slow

gait. The great toe is short and generally not opposable. The

muscles of the leg are heavy and the knee-joint has a very broad

articulating surface. But the great result of man's erect posture is

that the hand is set free from the work of locomotion, and has

become a delicate tactile and tool-using organ. The importance of

this change we cannot over-estimate. The hand was the servant of the

brain for trying all experiments. Had not our arboreal ancestors

developed the hand for us we could never have invented tools nor

used them if invented. And its reflex influence in developing the

brain has been enormous. The arm is shorter and the hand smaller.

The brain is absolutely and relatively large, and its surface

greatly convoluted. This gives place for a large amount of "gray

matter," whose functions are perception, thought, and will. For this

gray matter forms a layer on the outside of the brain.

Thus, even anatomically, man differs from the anthropoid apes. His

whole structure is moulded to and by the higher mental powers, so

that he is the "Anthropos" of the old Greek philosophers, the being

who "turns his face upward." Yet in all these anatomical respects

some of the apes differ less from him than from the lower apes or

"half apes." And every one of these can easily be explained as the

result of progressive development and modification. Whoever will

deny the possibility or probability of man's development from some

lower form must argue on psychological, not on anatomical, grounds;

and it grows clearer every day that even the former but poorly

justify such a denial.

But it is interesting to note that no one ape most closely

approaches man in all anatomical respects. Thus among the

anthropoids the orang is perhaps most similar to man in cerebral

structure, the chimpanzee in form of skull, the gorilla in feet and

hands. No evolutionist would claim that any existing ape represents

the ancestor of man. The anthropoids represent very probably the

culmination of at least three distinct lines of development. But we

must remember that in early tertiary times apes occurred all over

Europe, and probably Asia, many degrees farther north than now. In

those days, as later, the fauna and flora of northern climates were

superior in vigor and height of development to that of Africa or

Australia. It is thus, to say the least, not at all improbable that

there existed in those times apes considerably, if not far, superior

to any surviving forms. Whether the palæontologist will find for us

remains of such anthropoids is still to be seen.

But you will naturally ask, "Is there not, after all, a vast

difference between the brain of man and that of the ape?" Let us

examine this question as fully as our very brief time will allow.

Considerable emphasis used to be laid on the facial angle between a

line drawn parallel to the base of the skull and one obliquely

vertical touching the teeth and most prominent portion of the

forehead. Now this angle is in man very large--from seventy-five to

eighty-five degrees, or even more, and rarely falling below

sixty-five degrees. But this angle depends largely on the protrusion

of the jaws, and varies greatly in species of animals showing much

the same grade of intelligence. In some not especially intelligent

South American monkeys the facial angle amounts to about sixty-five

degrees. In this respect the skull of a chimpanzee reminds us of a

human skull of small cranial capacity and large jaws, in which the

cranium has been pressed back and the jaws crowded forward and

slightly upward.

The weight of the brain in proportion to that of the body has been

considered as of great importance, and within certain limits this is

undoubtedly correct. Thus, according to Leuret, the weight of the

brain is to that of the whole body: In fish, 1:5,668; in reptiles,

1:1,320; in birds, 1:212; in mammals, 1:186. These figures give the

averages of large numbers of observations and have a certain

amount of value. But within the same class the ratio varies

extraordinarily. Thus the weight of the brain is to that of the

whole body: In the elephant, 1:500; in the largest dogs, 1:305; in

the cat, 1:156; in the rat, 1:76; in the chimpanzee, 1:50; in man,

1:36; in the field-mouse, 1:31; in the goldfinch, 1:24.

From this series it is evident that the relative weight of the brain

is no index of the intelligence of the animal. Indeed if the brain

were purely an organ of mind, there is no reason that it should be

any larger in an elephant than in a mouse, provided they had the

same mental capacity. As animals grow larger the weight of the

brain, relatively to that of the body, decreases, and considering

the size of man it is remarkable that it should form so large a

fraction of his weight. Still the fraction in the chimpanzee is not

so much smaller. It is still possible that this fraction is above

the normal for the chimpanzee, for some of the observations may have

been taken on animals which had died of consumption or some other

wasting disease. I have not been able to find whether this

possibility of error has been scrupulously avoided.

A fair idea of the size of the brain may be obtained by measuring

the cranial capacity. This varies in man from almost one-hundred

cubic inches to less than seventy. In the gorilla its average is

perhaps thirty, in the orang and chimpanzee rather less, about

twenty-eight. This is certainly a vast difference, especially when

we remember that the gorilla far exceeds man in weight.

Le Bon tells us that of a series of skulls forty-five per cent, of

the Australian had a cranial capacity of 1,200 to 1,300 c.c., while

46.7 per cent. of modern Parisian skulls showed a capacity of

between 1,500 and 1,600 c.c. The skull of the gorilla contains about

five hundred and seventy cubic centimetres. Broca found that the

cranial capacity of 115 Parisian skulls, of probably the higher

classes from the twelfth century, averaged about 1,426 cubic

centimetres, while ninety of those of the poorer classes of the

nineteenth century averaged about 1,484. His observations seemed to

prove that there has been a steady increase in Parisian cranial

capacity from the twelfth to the nineteenth century.

Turning to the actual weight of the brain, that of Cuvier weighed

64.5 ounces, and a few cases of weights exceeding 65 ounces have

been recorded. The lowest limit of weight in a normal human brain

has not yet been accurately determined. From 34 to 31 ounces have

been assigned by different writers. The brain of a Bush woman was

computed by Marshall at 31.5 ounces, and weights of even 31 ounces

have been recorded without any note to show that the possessors were

especially lacking in intelligence. As Professor Huxley says in his

"Man's Place in Nature," a little book which I cannot too highly

recommend to you all, "It may be doubted whether a healthy human

adult brain ever weighed less than 31 or 32 ounces, or that the

heaviest gorilla brain has ever exceeded 20 ounces. The difference

in weight of brain between the highest and the lowest men is far

greater, both relatively and absolutely, than that between the

lowest man and the highest ape. The latter, as has been seen, is

represented by 12 ounces of cerebral substance absolutely, or by

32:20 relatively. But as the largest recorded human brain weighed

between 65 and 66 ounces, the former difference is represented by 33

ounces absolutely, or by 65:32 relatively."

But there is another characteristic of the brain which seems to bear

a close relation to the degree of intelligence. The surface of the

human brain is not smooth but covered with convolutions, with

alternating grooves or sulci, which vastly increase its surface and

thus make room for more gray matter. Says Gratiolett: "On comparing

a series of human and simian brains we are immediately struck with

the analogy exhibited in the cerebral forms in all these creatures.

There is a cerebral form peculiar to man and the apes; and so in the

cerebral convolutions, wherever they appear, there is a general

unity of arrangement, a plan, the type of which is common to all

these creatures." Professor Huxley says: "It is most remarkable

that, as soon as all the principal sulci appear, the pattern

according to which they are arranged is identical with the

corresponding sulci in man. The surface of the brain of the monkey

exhibits a sort of skeleton map of man's, and in the man-like apes

the details become more and more filled in, until it is only in

minor characters that the chimpanzee's or orang's brain can be

structurally distinguished from man's."

The facts of anatomy, at least, are all against us. Struggle as we

may, be as snobbish as we will, we cannot shake off these poor

relations of ours. Our adult anatomy at once betrays our ancestry,

if we attempt to deny it. Read the first chapter of that remarkable

book by Professor Drummond on the "Ascent of Man," the chapter on

the ascent of the body, and the second chapter on the scaffolding

left in the body. The tips of our ears and our rudimentary ear

muscles, the hair on hand and arm, and the little plica semilunaris,

or rudimentary third eyelid in the inner angle of our eyes, the

vermiform appendage of the intestine, the coracoid process on our

shoulder-blades, the atlas vertebra of our necks--to say nothing of

the coccyx at the other end of the backbone--many malformations, and

a host of minor characteristics all refute our denial.

If we appeal from adult anatomy to embryology the case becomes all

the worse for us. Our ear is lodged in the gill-slit of a fish, our

jaws are branchial arches, our hyoid bone the rudiment of this

system of bones supporting the gills. Our circulation begins as a

veritable fish circulation; our earliest skeleton is a notochord;

Meckel's cartilage, from which our lower jaw and the bones of our

middle ear develop, is a whole genealogical tree of disagreeable

ancestors. Our glandula thyreoidea has, according to good

authorities, an origin so slimy that it should never be mentioned in

polite society. The origin of our kidneys appears decidedly vermian.

Time fails me to read merely the name of the witnesses which could

be summoned from our own bodies to witness against us.

Even if the testimony of some of these witnesses is not as strong

as many think, and we have misunderstood several of them, they are

too numerous and their stories hang too well together not to impress

an intelligent and impartial jury. But what if it is all true? What

if, as some think, our millionth cousin, the tiger or cat, is

anatomically a better mammal than I? His teeth and claws and

magnificent muscles are of small value compared with man's mental

power.

What a comedy that man should work so hard to prove that his chief

glory is his opposable thumb, or a few ounces of brain matter! Man's

glory is his mind and will, his reason and moral powers, his vision

of, and communion with, God. And supposing it be true, as I believe

it is true, that the animal has the germ of these also, does that

cloud my mind or obscure my vision or weaken my action? It bids me

only strive the harder to be worthy of the noble ancestors who have

raised me to my higher level and on whose buried shoulders I stand.

Whatever may have been our origin, whoever our ancestors, we are

men. Then let us play the man. If we will but play our part as well

as our old ancestors played theirs, if we will but walk and act

according to our light one-half as heroically and well as they

groped in the darkness, we need not worry about the future. That

will be assured.

Says Professor Huxley: "Man now stands as on a mountain-top far

above the level of his humble fellows, and transfigured from his

grosser nature by reflecting here and there a ray from the infinite

source of truth. And thoughtful man, once escaped from the blinding

influences of traditional prejudice, will find in the lowly stock

whence man has sprung the best evidence of the splendor of his

capacities, and will discern in his long progress through the past a

reasonable ground of faith in his attainment of a nobler future."

We have sketched hastily and in rude outline the anatomical

structure of the successive stages of man's ancestry; let us now, in

a very brief recapitulation, condense this chronicle into a

historical record of progress.

We began with the amoeba. This could not have been the beginning.

In all its structure it tells us of something earlier and far

simpler, but what this earlier ancestor was we do not know. Rather

more highly organized relatives of the amoeba, the flagellata,

have produced a membrane, and swim by means of vibratile,

whiplash-like flagella. We must emphasize that these little animals

correspond in all essential respects to the cells of our bodies;

they are unicellular animals. And the cell once developed remains

essentially the same structure, modified only in details, throughout

higher animals. And these unicellular animals have the rudiments of

all our functions. Their protoplasm and functions seem to differ

from those of higher animals only in degree, not in kind. And the

more we consider both these facts the more remarkable and suggestive

do they become.

Cells with membranes can unite in colonies capable of division of

labor and differentiation. And magosphæra is just such a little

spheroidal colony. But the cells are still all alike, each one

performs all functions equally well. But in volvox division of labor

and differentiation of structure have taken place. Certain cells

have become purely reproductive, while the rest gather nutriment for

these, but are at the same time sensitive and locomotive, excretory

and respiratory. The first function to have cells specially devoted

to it is the reproductive; this is a function absolutely necessary

for the maintenance of the species. For the nutritive cells die when

they have brought the reproductive cells to their full development.

These few nutritive cells represent the body of all higher animals

in contrast with the reproductive elements. And with the development

of a body, death, as a normal process, enters the world. The

dominant function is here evidently the reproductive, and the whole

body is subservient to this.

In hydra the union and differentiation of cells is carried further.

But the cells are still much alike and only slowly lose their own

individuality in that of the whole animal. This is shown in the fact

that each entodermal cell digests its own particles of food,

although the nutriment once digested diffuses to all parts of the

body. Also almost any part of the animal containing both ectoderm

and entoderm can be cut off and will develop into a new animal.

But beside the reproductive cells and tissues hydra has developed a

very simple digestive system, in which the newly caught food at

least macerates and begins to be dissolved. This is the second

essential function. The animal can, and the plant as a rule does,

exist with only the lowest rudiments of anything like nervous or

muscular power; but no species can exist without good powers of

digestion and reproduction. These essential organs must first

develop and the higher must wait. And the inner, digestive, layer of

cells persists in our bodies as the lining of the mid-intestine. We

compared hydra therefore to a little patch of the lining of our

intestine covered with a flake of epidermis; only these layers in

hydra possess powers lost to the corresponding cells of our bodies

in the process of differentiation. Notice, please, that when cell or

organ has once been developed it persists, as a rule, modified, but

not lost. Nature's experiments are not in vain; her progress is very

slow but sure. But hydra has also the promise of better things,

traces of muscular and nervous tissue. There are still no compact

muscles, like our own, much less ganglion or brain or nerve-centre

of individuality. The tissues are diffuse, but they are the

materials out of which the organs of higher animals will

crystallize, so to speak. Notice also that these higher muscles and

nerves are here entirely subservient to, and exist for, digestion

and reproduction.

In the turbellaria the reproductive system has reached a very high

grade of development. It is a complex and beautifully constructed

organ. The digestive system has also vastly improved; it has its own

muscular layers, and often some means of grasping food. But it is

slower in reaching its full development than the reproductive

system. But all the muscles are no longer attached to the stomach;

they are beginning to assert their independence, and, in a rude way,

to build a body-wall. But they are in many layers, and run in almost

all directions. Some of these layers will disappear, but the most

important ones, consisting of longitudinal and transverse fibres,

will persist in higher forms. Locomotion by means of these muscles

is slowly coming into prominence. They are no longer merely slaves

of digestion.

But a muscular fibril contracts only under the stimulus of a nervous

impulse. More nerve-cells are necessary to control these more

numerous muscular fibrils. The animal now moves with one end

foremost, and that end first comes in contact with food, hindrances,

or injurious surroundings. Here the sensory cells of feeling and

their nerve fibrils multiply. Remember that these neuro-epithelial

sensory cells are suited to respond not merely to pressure, but to a

variety of the stimuli, chemical, molecular, and of vibration, which

excite our organs of smell, taste, and hearing. Such organs and the

directive eyes appear mainly at this anterior end. But a ganglion

cell sends an impulse to a muscle because it has received one along

a sensory nerve from one or more of these sensory cells. Hence the

ganglion cells will increase in number. The old cobweb-like plexus

condenses into a little knot, the supra-oesophageal ganglion. This

ganglion cannot do much, if any, thinking; it is rather a steering

organ to control the muscles and guide the animal. It is the servant

of the locomotive system. Yet it is the beginning of the brain of

higher animals, and probably still persists as an infinitesimal

portion of our human brain. And all this is the prophecy of a head

soon to be developed. An excretory system has appeared to carry off

the waste of the muscles and nerves.

In the schematic worm and annelid the reproductive system is

simpler, though perhaps equally effective. It takes the excess of

nutriment of the body. The muscular system has taken the form of a

sack composed of longitudinal and transverse fibres. The

perivisceral cavity, formed perhaps by cutting off and enlarging the

lateral pouches of the turbellarian digestive system, serves as a

very simple but serviceable circulatory system. But in the annelid

and all higher forms a special system of tubes has developed to

carry the nutriment, and usually oxygen also, needed to keep up the

combustion required to furnish the energy in these active organs.

The digestive system has attained its definite form with the

appearance of an anal opening and the accompanying division of labor

and differentiation into fore-, mid-, and hind-intestine.

The digestive and reproductive systems have thus nearly attained

their final form. From the higher worms upward the digestive system

will improve greatly. Its lining will fold and flex and vastly

increase the digestive and absorptive surfaces. The layer of cells

which now secrete the digestive fluids will in part be replaced by

massive glands. Far better means of grasping food than the horny

teeth of annelids will yet appear. But all these changes are

inconsiderable compared with the vast advance made by the muscular

and nervous systems. Reproduction and digestion are losing their

supremacy in the animal body. Their advance and improvement will

require but little further attention.

In the annelid especially, and to some extent in the schematic worm,

the supra-oesophageal ganglion is relieved in part of the direct

control of the muscular fibrils and has become an organ of

perception and the seat of government of lower nervous centres. In

all higher forms it innervates directly only the principal

sense-organs of the head. And at this stage the light-perceiving

directive eye has developed into a form-perceiving, eidoscopic

organ. The eye was short of range and its images were perhaps rude

and imperfect, but it was a visual eye and had vast possibilities.

The animal is taking cognizance of ever more subtle elements in its

environment. Perhaps it is not too much to say that the eidoscopic

eye first awakened the slumbering animal mind, for its reflex effect

upon the supra-oesophageal ganglion cannot be over-estimated. The

animal will very soon begin to think.

Between the turbellarian and the annelid many aberrant lines

diverged. Some of these attained a comparatively high level and then

seemed to meet insuperable obstacles, while others came to an end or

turned downward very early. Three of these demanded attention, those

leading to mollusks, insects, and vertebrates. And it is interesting

to notice that the fundamental difference between these three lines

was the skeleton, or perhaps we ought to say it was the habit of

life which led to the development of such a skeleton.

The mollusk took to a sluggish, creeping mode of life, under an

external purely protective skeleton; the insect to a creeping mode

of life, with an external but almost purely locomotive skeleton; the

vertebrate kept on swimming and developed an internal locomotive

skeleton. And it must already have become clear to you that the

destiny of these different lines was fixed not so much directly by

the skeleton itself as by its reflex effect in moulding the

muscular, and ultimately the nervous, system.

The insects formed their skeleton by thickening the horny cuticle of

the annelid. They transformed the annelid parapodia into legs and

developed wings. They attained life in the air. They devoted the

muscles of the body largely to the extremities and gained swift

locomotion. They have a fair circulatory and an excellent

respiratory system. Best of all, they developed a head and a brain

by fusing the three anterior ganglia of the body. The insect could

and does think. Such a structure ought to lead to great and high

results. But actually their possibilities were very limited. They

have not progressed markedly during the last geological period.

Their external skeleton was easily attained and brought speedy

advantages, which for a time placed them far above all competitors.

But it limited their size and length of life and opportunities, and

finally their intelligence. They remained largely the slaves of

instinct. They followed an attractive and exceedingly promising

path, but it led to the bottom of a cliff, not to the summit.

The mollusks, clams, and snails took an easier, down-hill road. They

formed a shell, and it developed large enough to cover them. It

hampered and almost destroyed locomotion and reduced nerve to a

minimum. But nerves are nothing but a nuisance anyhow. And why

should they move? Food was plenty down in the mud, and if danger

threatened, they withdrew into the shell. They stayed down in the

mud and let the world go its way. If grievously afflicted by a

parasite they produced a pearl--to save themselves from further

discomfort. They developed just enough muscle and nervous system to

close the shell or drag it a little way; that was all. Digestion and

reproduction retained the supremacy. They were fruitful and

multiplied, and produced hosts of other clams and snails. The

present was enough for them and they had that.

For if the winner in the struggle for existence is the one who gains

the most food, the most entire protection against discomfort, danger

from enemies or unfavorable surroundings, and the most fruitful and

rapid reproduction--and these are all good--then the clam is the

highest product of evolution. It never has been surpassed--I venture

to say it never can be--except possibly by the tape-worms. I can

never help thinking with what contempt these primitive oysters, if

they had had brains enough, would have looked down upon the toiling,

struggling, discontented, fighting, aspiring primitive vertebrates.

How they would have wondered why God allowed such disagreeable,

disturbing, unconventional creatures to exist, and thanked him that

he had made the world for them, and heaven too, if there be such a

place for mollusks. Their road led to the Slough of Contentment.

But even in molluscan history there was a tragic chapter. The squids

and cuttle-fishes regained the swimming life, and in their latest

forms gave up the protective shell. But its former presence had so

modified their structure that any great advance was impossible. It

was too late. The sins of the fathers were visited upon the children

in the thousandth generation.

The vertebrate developed an internal skeleton. This was necessarily

a slow growth, and the type came late to supremacy. The longitudinal

muscles are arranged in heavy bands on each side of the back, and

the animal swims rapidly. The sense-organs are keen. The brain

contains the ganglia of several or many segments and is highly

differentiated. It has a special centre of perception, thought, and

will; it is an organ of mind. The vertebrate has the physical and

mental advantages of large size.

First the definite form and mode of developing a vertebra is

attained. Then the vertebral column is perfected. The fins are

modified into legs. The lungs increase in size and the heart becomes

double. The animal emerges on land; and, with a better supply of

oxygen and less loss of heat, all the functions are performed with

the highest possible efficiency. First, apparently, amphibia, then

reptiles, and finally mammals of enormous size and strength

appeared. It looked as if the earth were to be an arena where

gigantic beasts fought a never-ending battle of brute force. But

these great brutes reproduced slowly, had therefore little power of

adaptation, were fitted to special conditions, and when the

conditions changed they disappeared. The bird tried once more the

experiment of developing the locomotive powers to the highest

possible extent. It became a flying machine, and every organ was

moulded to suit this life. Every ounce of spare weight was thrown

aside, the muscles were wonderfully arranged and of the highest

possible efficiency. The body temperature is higher than that of

mammals. The whole organization is a physiological high-pressure

engine. The sense-organs are perhaps the finest and keenest in the

whole animal kingdom. The brain is inferior only to that of mammals.

The experiment could not have been tried under more favorable

conditions; it was not a failure, it certainly was not a success

when compared with that of mammals.

The possibilities of every system except one had been practically

exhausted. Only brain development remained as the last hope of

success. Here was an untried line, and the mammals followed it.

During the short tertiary period the brain in many of their genera

seems to have increased tenfold. By the arboreal life of the highest

forms the hand is developed as the instrument of the thinking brain.

The battle is beginning to become one of wits, and the crown will

soon pass from the strongest to the shrewdest. Mind, not muscle,

much less digestion or reproduction, is the goal of the animal

kingdom. And we shall see later that the mammalian mode of

reproduction and of care of the young led to an almost purely mental

and moral advance. For these could have but one logical outcome,

family life. And the family is the foundation of society. And family

and social life have been the school in which man has been compelled

to learn the moral lessons, the application of which has made him

what he is.

You must all, I think, have noticed that the different systems of

organs succeed one another in a certain definite order; and that

each stage from the lowest to the highest is characterized by the

predominance of a certain function or group of functions. This

sequence of functions is not a deduction but a fact. Place side by

side all possible genealogical trees of the animal kingdom, whether

founded on comparative anatomy, embryology, palæontology, or all

combined. They will all disclose this sequence of functions arranged

in the same order. Let me call your attention to the fact that this

order is not due to chance, but rests upon a physiological basis. We

might almost claim that if the evolution of man from the single cell

be granted, no other order of their occurrence is possible.

The protozoa are mostly, though not purely, nutritive and

reproductive. These functions are essential to the existence of the

species. Naturally in the early protozoan colonies, and in forms

like hydra, these functions predominated. But mere digestive tissue

is not enough for digestion. Muscles are needed to draw the food to

the mouth, to keep the digestive sack in contact with it, and for

other purposes. A little higher they are used to enable the animal

to go in search of its food. They are still, however, more or less

entirely subservient to digestion. But in the highest worms we are

beginning to see signs that muscles are predominating in the body;

and we feel that, while mutually helpful, the digestive system

exists for the muscles, and these latter are becoming the aim of

development. From worms upward there is a marked advance in physical

activity and strength. The muscles thicken and are arranged in

heavier bands. Skeleton and locomotive appendages and jaws follow in

insects and vertebrates. The direct battle of animal against animal,

and of strength opposed to strength or activity, becomes ever

sharper. The strongest and most active are selected and survive.

And yet this is not the whole truth. Some power of perception is

possessed by every animal. But until muscles had developed the

nervous system could be of but little practical value. Knowledge of

even a great emergency is of little use, if I can do nothing about

it. But when the muscles appeared, nerves and ganglion cells were

necessary to stimulate and control them. And this highest system

holds for a long time a position subordinate to that of the lower

muscular organ. Its development seems at first sight extraordinarily

slow. Only in insects and vertebrates has it become a centre of

instinct and thought. Through the sense-organs it is gaining an ever

clearer, deeper, and wider knowledge of its environment. First it is

affected only by the lower stimuli of touch, taste, and smell. Then

with the development of ear and eye it takes cognizance of ever

subtler forces and movements. Memory comes into activity very early.

The animal begins to learn by experience. The brain is becoming not

merely a steering but a thinking organ. More and more nervous

material is crowded into it and detailed for its work. Wits and

shrewdness are beginning to count for something in the battle. Not

only the animal with the strongest muscles, but the one with the

best brain survives. And thus at last the brain began to develop

with a rapidity as remarkable as its long delay. Thus each higher

function is called into activity by the next lower, serves this at

first, and only later attains its supremacy.

And yet the advance of the different functions is not altogether

successive. Muscle and nerve do not wait for digestion and

reproduction to show signs of halting before they begin to advance.

They all advance at once. But the progress of reproduction and

digestion is most rapid at first, and it appears as if they would

outrun the others. But in the ascending series the others follow

after, and soon overtake and pass by them. And these lower

functions, when out-marched, do not lag behind, but keep in touch

with the others, forming the rear-guard and supply-train of the

army. And notice that each organ holds the predominance about as

long as it shows the power of rapid improvement. The length of its

reign is pretty closely proportional to its capacity of development.

The digestive system reaches that limit early, the muscular system

is capable of indefinitely higher complexity, as we see in our hand.

But the muscular system has nearly or quite reached its limit. The

body had seen its day of dominance before man arrived on the globe.

But where is the limit to man's mental or moral powers? Every

upward step in knowledge, wisdom, and righteousness only opens our

eyes to greater heights, before unperceived and still to be

attained. These capacities, even to our dim vision, are evidently

capable of an indefinite, perhaps infinite, development. What, as

yet only partially developed, faculty remains to supersede them? As

being capable of an endless development and without a rival, may we

not, _must_ we not, consider them as ends in themselves? They are

evidently what we are here for. Everything points to a spiritual end

in animal evolution. The line of development is from the

predominantly material to the predominance of the non-material. Not

that the material is to be crowded out. It is to reach its highest

development in the service of the mind. The body must be sustained

and perfected, but it is not the end. The goal is mind, the body is

of subordinate importance.

But if this is true, we must study carefully the development of mind

in the animal. The question presses upon us; if there is a sequence

of physical functions in animal development, is there not perhaps

also a sequence in the development of the mental faculties? What is

the crowning faculty of the human mind and how is its fuller

development to be attained? Let us pass therefore to the question of

mind in the animal kingdom.

The Whence and the Whither of Man A Brief History of His Origin and Development through Conformity to Environment; Being the Morse Lectures of 1895 · 第 4 / 10 章