Part 8

What now of the unities of form and power in protoplasm? By form, Mr. Huxley will be found to mean the general appearance and structure; and by faculty or power, the action exhibited. Now it will be very easy to prove that, in neither respect, do all specimens of protoplasm agree. Mr. Huxley’s representative protoplasm, it appears, is that of the nettle-sting; and he describes it as a granulated, semi-fluid body, contractile in mass, and contractile also in detail to the development of a species of circulation. Stricker, again, speaks of it as a homogeneous substance, in which any granules that may appear must be considered of foreign importation, and in which there are no evidences of circulation. In this last respect, then, that Mr. Huxley should talk of “tiny Maelstroms,” such as even in the silence of a tropical noon might stun us, if heard, as “with the roar of a great city,” may be viewed, perhaps, as a rise into poetry beyond the occasion.

Further, according to Stricker, protoplasm varies almost infinitely in consistence, in shape, in structure, and in function. In consistence, it is sometimes so fluid as to be capable of forming in drops; sometimes semi-fluid and gelatinous; sometimes of considerable resistance. In shape—for to Stricker the cells are now protoplasm—we have club-shaped protoplasm, globe-shaped protoplasm, cup-shaped protoplasm, bottle-shaped protoplasm, spindle-shaped protoplasm—branched, threaded, ciliated protoplasm,—circle-headed protoplasm—flat, conical, cylindrical, longitudinal, prismatic, polyhedral, and palisade-like protoplasm. In structure, again, it is sometimes uniform and sometimes reticulated into interspaces that contain fluid. In function, lastly—and here we have entered on the consideration of faculty or power—some protoplasm is vagrant (so to translate _wandernd_), and of unknown use, like the colorless blood-corpuscles.

In reference to these, as strengthening the argument, and throwing much light generally, I break off a moment to say that, very interesting as they are in themselves, and as Recklinghausen, in especial, has made them, Mr. Huxley’s theory of them disagrees considerably with the prevalent German one. He speaks of them as the source of the body in general, yet, in his Physiology, he talks of the spleen, the lymphatics, and even the liver—_parts_ of the body—as _their_ source. They are so few in number that, while Mr. Huxley is thankful to be able to point to the inside of the lips as a seat for them, they bear to the red corpuscles only the proportion of 1 to 450. This disproportion, however, is no bar to Mr. Huxley’s derivation of the latter from the former. But the fact is questioned. The Germans, generally, for their, part, describe the colorless, or vagrant, blood-corpuscles as probably media of conjugation or reparation, but acknowledge their function to be as yet quite unknown; while Rindfleisch, characterizing the spleen as the grave of the red, and the womb of the white, corpuscles, evidently refers the latter to the former. This, indeed, is a matter of direct assertion with Preyer, who has “shown that pieces of red blood-corpuscles may be eaten by the amoeboid cells of the frog,” and holds that the latter (the white corpuscles) proceed directly from the former (the red corpuscles); so that it seems to be determined in the mean time that there is no proof of the reverse being the fact.

In function, then, to resume, some protoplasm is vagrant, and of unknown use. Some again produces pepsine, and some fat. Some at least contains pigment. Then there is nerve-protoplasm, brain-protoplasm, bone-protoplasm, muscle-protoplasm, and protoplasm of all the other tissues, no one of which but produces only its own kind, and is uninterchangeable with the rest. Lastly, on this head, we have to point to the overwhelming fact that there is the infinitely different protoplasm of the various infinitely different plants and animals, in each of which its own protoplasm, as in the case of that of the various tissues, but produces its own kind, and is uninterchangeable with that of the rest.

It may be objected, indeed, that these latter are examples of modified protoplasm. The objection of modification, as said, we have to see by itself later; but, in the mean time, it may be asked, Where are we to begin, _not_ to have modified protoplasm? We have the example of Mr. Huxley himself, who, in the nettle-sting, begins already with modified protoplasm; and we have the authority of Rindfleisch for asserting that “in every different tissue we must look for a different initial term of the productive series.” This, evidently, is a very strong light on the original multiplicity of protoplasm, which the consideration, as we have seen, of the various plants and animals, has made, further, infinite. This is enough; but there is no wish to evade beginning with the very beginning—with absolutely pure initial protoplasm, if it can but be given us in any reference. The simple egg—that, probably is the beginning—that, probably, is the original identity; yet even there we find already distribution of the identity into infinite difference. This, certainly, with reference to the various organisms, but with reference also to the various tissues. That we regard the egg as the beginning, and that we do not start, like the smaller exceptional physiological school, with molecules themselves, depends on this, that the great Germans so often alluded to, Kühne among them, still trust in the experiments of Pasteur; and while they do not deny the possibility, or even the fact, of molecular generation, still feel justified in denying the existence of any observation that yet unassailably attests a _generatio æquivoca_. By such authority as this the simple philosophical spectator has no choice but to take his stand; and therefore it is that I assume the egg as the established beginning, so far, of all vegetable and animal organisms. To the egg, too, as the beginning, Mr. Huxley, though the lining of the nettle-sting is his representative protoplasm, at least refers. “In the earliest condition of the human organism,” he says, in allusion to the white (vagrant) corpuscles of the blood, “in that state in which it has but just become distinguished from the egg in which it arises, it is nothing but an aggregation of such corpuscles, and every organ of the body was once no more than such an aggregation.” Now, in beginning with the egg—an absolute beginning being denied us in consequence of the pre-existent infinite difference of the egg or eggs themselves—we may gather from the German physiologists some such account of the actual facts as this.

The first change signalized in the impregnated egg seems that of _Furchung_, or furrowing—what the Germans call the _Furchungskugeln_, the _Dotterkugeln_, form. Then these _Kugeln_—clumps, eminences, monticles, we may translate the word—break into cells; and these are the cells of the embryo. Mr. Huxley, as quoted, refers to the whole body, and every organ of the body, as at first but an aggregation of colorless blood-corpuscles; but in the very statement which would render the identity alone explicit, the difference is quite as plainly implicit. As much as this lies in the word “organs,” to say nothing of “human.” The cells of the “organs,” to which he refers, are even then uninterchangeable, and produce but themselves. The Germans tell us of the _Keimblatt_, the germ-leaf, in which all these organs originate. This _Blatt_, or leaf, is threefold, it seems; but even these folds are not indifferent. The various cells have their distinct places in them from the first. While what in this connection are called the epithelial and endorthelial tissues spring respectively from the _upper_ and _under_ leaf, connective tissues, with muscle and blood, spring from the _middle_ one. Surely in such facts we have a perfect warrant to assert the initial non-identity of protoplasm, and to insist on this, that, from the very earliest moment—even literally _ab ovo_—brain-cells only generate brain-cells, bone-cells bone-cells, and so on.

These considerations on function all concern faculty or power; but we have to notice now that the characteristic and fundamental form of power is to Mr. Huxley _contractility_. He even quotes Goethe in proof of contractility being the main power or faculty of _Man_! Nevertheless it is to be said at once that, while there are differences in what protoplasm _is_ contractile, all protoplasm is not contractile, nor dependent on contractility for its functions. In the former respect, for example, muscle, while it is the contractile tissue special, is also to Mr. Huxley protoplasm; yet Stricker asserts the inner construction of the contractile substance, of which muscle-fibre virtually consists, to be essentially different from contractile protoplasm. Here, then, we have the contractile _substance_ proper “essentially different” from the contractile _source_ proper. In the latter respect, again, we shall not call in the _un_contractible substances which Mr. Huxley himself denominates protoplasm—bread, namely, roast mutton, and boiled lobster; but we may ask where—even in the case of a living body—is the contractility of white of egg? In this reference, too, we may remark that Kühne, who divides the protoplasm of the epidermis into three classes, has been unable to distinguish contractility in his own third class. Lastly, where, in relation to the protoplasm of the nervous system, is there evidence of its contractility? Has any one pretended that thought is but the contraction of the brain; or is it by contraction that the very nerves operate contraction—the nerves that supply muscles, namely? Mr. Huxley himself, in his Physiology, describes nervous action very differently. There _conduction_ is spoken of without a hint of contraction. Of the higher faculties of man I have to speak again; but let us just ask where, in the case of any pure sensation—smell, taste, touch, sound, color—is there proof of any contraction? Are we to suppose that between the physical cause of heat without and the mental sensation of heat within, contraction is anywhere interpolated? Generally, in conclusion here, while reminding of Virchow’s testimony to the inherent inequalities of cell-capacity, let us but, on the question of faculty, contrast the kidney and the brain, even as these organs are viewed by Mr. Huxley. To him the one is but a sieve for the extrusion of refuse: the other thinks Newton’s ‘Principia’ and Iliads of Homer.

Probably, then, in regard to any continuity in protoplasm of power, of form, or of substance, we have seen _lacunæ_ enow. Nay, Mr. Huxley himself can be adduced in evidence on the same side. Not rarely do we find in his essay admissions of _probability_ where it is _certainty_ that is alone in place. He says, for example, “It is more than probable that _when_ the vegetable world _is_ thoroughly explored we _shall_ find all plants in possession of the same powers.” When a conclusion is decidedly announced, it is rather disappointing to be told, as here, that the premises are still to collect. “_So far_,” he says again, “as the conditions of the manifestations of the phenomena of contractility have _yet_ been studied.” Now, such a _so far_ need not be _very far_; and we may confess in passing, that from Mr. Huxley the phrase, “the conditions of the _manifestations_ of the _phenomena_” grates. We hear again that it is “the rule _rather_ than the exception,” or that “weighty authorities have _suggested_” that such and such things “probably occur,” or, while contemplating the nettle-sting, that such “_possible_ complexity” in other cases “_dawns_ upon one.” On other occasions he expresses himself to the effect that “perhaps it would not yet be safe to say that _all_ forms,” etc. Nay, not only does he directly _say_ that “it is by no means his intention to suggest that there is no difference between the lowest plant and the highest, or between plants and animals,” but he directly proves what he says, for he demonstrates in plants and animals an _essential difference of power_. Plants _can_ assimilate inorganic matters, animals can _not_, etc. Again, here is a passage in which he is seen to cut his own “_basis_” from beneath his own feet. After telling us that all forms of protoplasm consist of carbon, hydrogen, oxygen, and nitrogen “in very complex union,” he continues, “To this complex combination, _the nature of which has never been determined with exactness_, the name of protein has been applied.” This, plainly, is an identification, on Mr. Huxley’s own part, of protoplasm and protein; and what is said of the one being necessarily true of the other, it follows that Mr. Huxley admits the nature of protoplasm never to have been determined with exactness, and that, even in his eyes, the _lis_ is still _sub judice_. This admission is strengthened by the words, too, “If we use this term” (protein) “with such _caution_ as may properly arise out of our _comparative ignorance_ of the things for which it stands;” which entitle us to recommend, in consequence “of our _comparative ignorance_ of the things for which it stands,” “_caution_” in the use of the term protoplasm. In such a state of the case we cannot wonder that Mr. Huxley’s own conclusion here is: Therefore “all living matter is more or less albuminoid.” All living matter is more or less albuminoid! That, indeed, is the single conclusion of Mr. Huxley’s whole industry; but it is a conclusion that, far from requiring the intervention of protoplasm, had been reached long before the word itself had been, in this connection, used.

It is in this way, then, that Mr. Huxley can be adduced in refutation of himself; and I think his resort to an epigram of Goethe’s for reduction of the powers of man to those of contraction, digestion, and reproduction, can be regarded as an admission to the same effect. The epigram runs thus:—

“Warum treibt sich das Volk so, und schreit? Es will sich ernähren, Kinder zeugen, und die nähren so gut es vermag. Weiter bringt es kein Mensch, stell’ er sich wie er auch will.”

That means, quite literally translated, “Why do the folks bustle and bawl? They want to feed themselves, get children, and then feed them as best they can; no man does more, let him do as he may.” This, really, is Mr. Huxley’s sole proof for his classification of the powers of man. Is it sufficient? Does it not apply rather to the birds of the air, the fish of the sea, and the beasts of the field, than to man? Did Newton only feed himself, beget children, and then feed them? Was it impossible for him to do any more, let him do as he might? And what we ask of Newton we may ask of all the rest. To elevate, therefore, the passing whim of mere literary _Laune_ into a cosmical axiom and a proof in place—this we cannot help adding to the other productions here in which Mr. Huxley appears against himself.

But were it impossible either for him or us to point to these _lacunæ_, it would still be our right and our duty to refer to the present conditions of microscopic science in general as well as in particular, and to demur to the erection of its _dicta_, constituted as they yet are, into established columns and buttresses in support of any theory of life, material or other.

The most delicate and dubious of all the sciences, it is also the youngest. In its manipulations the slightest change may operate as a destructive drought, or an equally destructive deluge. Its very tools may positively create the structure it actually examines. The present state of the science, and what warrant it gives Mr. Huxley to dogmatize on protoplasm, we may understand from this avowal of Kühne’s: “To-day we believe that we see” such or such fact, “but know not that further improvements in the means of observation will not reveal what is assumed for certainty to be only illusion.” With such authority to lean on—and it is the highest we can have—we may be allowed to entertain the conjecture, that it is just possible that some certainties, even of Mr. Huxley, may yet reveal themselves as illusions.

But, in resistance to any sweeping conclusions built on it, we are not confined to a reference to the imperfections involved in the very nature and epoch of the science itself in general. With yet greater assurance of carrying conviction with us, we may point in particular to the actual opinions of its present professors. We have seen already, in the consideration premised, that Mr. Huxley’s hypothesis of a protoplasm _matter_ is unsupported, even by the most innovating Germans, who as yet will not advance, the most advanced of them, beyond a protoplasm-cell; and that his whole argument is thus sapped in advance. But what threatens more absolute extinction of this argument still, _all_ the German physiologists do _not_ accept even the protoplasm-cell. Rindfleisch, for example, in his recently-published ‘Lehrbuch der pathologischen Gewebelehre’ speaks of the cell very much as we understand Virchow to have spoken of it. To him there is in the cell not only protoplasm but nucleus, and perhaps membrane as well. To him, too, the cell propagates itself quite as we have been hitherto fancying it to do, by division of the nucleus, increase of the protoplasm, and ultimate partition of the cell itself. Yet he knows withal of the opinions of others, and accepts them in a manner. He mentions Kühne’s account of the membrane as at first but a mere physical limit of two fluids—a mere peripheral film or curdling; still he assumes a formal and decided membrane at last. Even Leydig and Schultze, who shall be the express eliminators of the membrane—the one by initiation and the other by consummation—confess that, as regards the cells of certain tissues, they have never been able to detect in them the absence of a membrane.

As regards the nucleus again, the case is very much stronger. When we have admitted with Brücke that certain cryptogam cells, with Haeckel that certain protists, with Cienkowsky that two monads, and with Schultze that one amoeba, are without nucleus—when we have admitted that division of the cell _may_ take place without implicating that of the nucleus—that the movements of the nucleus _may_ be passive and due to those of the protoplasm—that Baer and Stricker demonstrate the disappearance of the original nucleus in the impregnated egg,—when we have admitted this, we have admitted also all that can be said in degradation of the nucleus. Even those who say all this still attribute to the nucleus an important and unknown _rôle_, and describe the formation in the impregnated egg of a new nucleus; while there are others again who resist every attempt to degrade it. Böttcher asserts movement for the nucleus, even when wholly removed from the cell; Neumann points to such movement in dead or dying cells; and there is other testimony to a like effect, as well as to peculiarities of the nucleus otherwise that indicate spontaneity. In this reference we may allude to the weighty opinion of the late Professor Goodsir, who anticipated in so remarkable a manner certain of the determinations of Virchow. Goodsir, in that anticipation, wonderfully rich and ingenious as he is everywhere, is perhaps nowhere more interesting and successful than in what concerns the nucleus. Of the whole cell, the nucleus is to him, as it was to Schleiden, Schwann, and others, the most important element. And this is the view to which I, who have little business to speak, wish success. This universe is not an accidental cavity, in which an accidental dust has been accidentally swept into heaps for the accidental evolution of the majestic spectacle of organic and inorganic life. That majestic spectacle is a spectacle as plainly for the eye of reason as any diagram of the mathematician. That majestic spectacle could have been constructed, was constructed, only in reason, for reason, and by reason. From beyond Orion and the Pleiades, across the green hem of earth, up to the imperial personality of man, all, the furthest, the deadest, the dustiest, is for fusion in the invisible point of the single Ego—_which alone glorifies it_. _For_ the subject, and on the model of the subject, all is made. Therefore it is that—though, precisely as there are acephalous monsters by way of exception and deformity, there may be also at the very extremity of animated existence cells without a nucleus—I cannot help believing that this nucleus itself, as analogue of the subject will yet be proved the most important and indispensable of all the normal cell-elements. Even the phenomena of the impregnated egg seem to me to support this view. In the egg, on impregnation, it seems to me natural (I say it with a smile) that the old sun that ruled it should go down, and that a new sun, stronger in the combination of the new and the old, should ascend into its place!

Be these things as they may, we have now overwhelming evidence before us for concluding, with reference to Mr. Huxley’s first proposition, that—in view of the nature of microscopic science—in view of the state of belief that obtains at present as regards nucleus, membrane, and entire cell—even in view of the supporters of protoplasm itself—Mr. Huxley is not authorized to speak of a physical matter of life; which, for the rest, if granted, would, for innumerable and, as it appears to me, irrefragable reasons, be obliged to acknowledge for itself, not identity, but an infinite diversity in power, in form and in substance.

So much for the first proposition in Mr. Huxley’s essay, or that which concerns protoplasm, as a supposed matter of life, identical itself, and involving the identity of all the various organs and organisms which it is assumed to compose. What now of the second proposition, or that which concerns the materiality at once of protoplasm, and of all that is conceived to derive from protoplasm? In other words, though, so to speak, for organic bricks anything like an organic clay still awaits the proof, I ask, if the bricks are not the same because the clay is not the same, what if the materiality of the former is equally unsupported by the materiality of the latter? Or what if the functions of protoplasm are not properties of its mere molecular constitution?

For this is Mr. Huxley’s second proposition, namely, That all vital and intellectual functions are but the properties of the molecular disposition and changes of the material basis (protoplasm) of which the various animals and vegetables consist. With the conclusions now before us, it is evident that to enter at all on this part of Mr. Huxley’s argumentation is, so far as we are concerned, only a matter of grace. In order that it should have any weight, we must grant the fact, at once of the existence of a matter of life, and of all organs and organisms being but aggregates of it. This, obviously, we cannot now do. By way of hypothesis, however, we may assume it. Let it be granted, then, that _pro hac vice_ there _is_ a physical basis of life with all the consequences named; and now let us see how Mr. Huxley proceeds to establish its materiality.