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
bod. The appendages start as fins, and end
as the legs and arms of ma. 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 frontie. 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 haemal arches. These unite
with the masses of cartilage surrounding the notochord
to form cartilaginous vertebrae, which may be stiffened
by an infiltration of carbonate of lime. The
vertebral column of sharks has reached this stage.
Then the cartilaginous vertebrae 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 vertebrae with few exceptions are
hollow in front and behind, biconcave; and between
each two vertebrae there is a large cavity still occupied
by the notochord. Thus these vertebrae 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 vertebrae 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 vertebrae 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 monotrèmes,
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 palaeontologist
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 glándula
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 magosphaera 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, palaeontology, 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.