Page images
PDF
EPUB

terial, and have the methods of their solution only changed? Or have the problems themselves become different?

To reply to this question is not easy, and the answer must vary with the point of view of the one who makes it. For morphology is yet far from being an exact science, the results of which force themselves upon us with the compulsion of necessity. This is due to the difficulty of the materials, a difficulty which compels us to seek for hypotheses and other subjective means of explanation. It thus comes about that views not only concerning the goal of morphology, but also as to the way in which this goal is to be reached, are widely diverse, and my own views concerning the fundamental problems of morphology are certainly far from being approved by all morphologists.

We may, indeed, say that, apart from minor differences, there are in morphology two main trends of thought which, apparently at least, are opposed to each other, one of which we may denominate formal, and the other causal. Causal morphology is that the aim of which is to determine the causes, in the widest sense, of form relations; this kind of morphology is the youngest, and is far less widely diffused than the formal. To us of a later period it may seem like a remarkable pleonasm, to speak of a 'formal morphology.' Morphology is, of course, the doctrine of form, and therefore any morphology appears to be, in the nature of the case, a formal one, and as a matter of fact has been in its historical development. But in spite of this fact this definition is historically justified, for it designates the tendency of morphology which regards form as something which stands alone for itself, and takes cognizance neither of the functions of organs nor of how they have arisen. This formal morphology arose at first out of the necessities of taxonomy. There had first

to be contrived a terminology for the distinction and description of single plant forms. From this function morphology soon, however, became distinct, thus constituting an independent discipline which on its part had served taxonomy a more important service than one might have at first expected. For while taxonomy, in order to find its way amid the maze of plant forms, had to keep in view the differential characters and the separation of single forms from each other, morphology found itself under the necessity of determining what was common to the most various forms and was accordingly directed toward more general questions; morphology taught, as Goethe expressed it, 'Die Glieder der Pflanzen im Zusammenhänge zu betrachten, und so das Ganze in der Anschauung gewissermassen zu beherrschen.' It resulted in the knowledge that, when we regard plants singly, manifold as their parts appear, they may yet be referred to a few elementary forms, and further, morphological research showed that the parallelism between different plant forms could be understood most easily under the assumption which we designate the theory of descent. The establishment of the theory of descent was the result of the morphological research. This we must here especially emphasize, for it shows what significance morphology has gained in respect to our general conception of organisms. But the theory of descent has also reacted upon morphological research, to such an extent, indeed, that it has been held that phylogenetic research is to be regarded as the sole business of morphology. Thus, for example, Scott has said:

The object of modern morphological botany is the accurate comparison of plants, both living and extinct, with the object of tracing their real relationships with one another, and thus of ultimately constructing a genealogical tree of the vegetable kingdom. The problem is thus a purely historical

one, and is perfectly distinct from any of the questions with which physiology has to do.

This position is certainly justified from the standpoint of the paleontologist. For him, for whom nothing but dead material is at hand, there remains nothing else to do than to make known, through careful comparative study, the structure and relationships of those organisms whose remains are available. This is a very important business. The beautiful results of phytopaleontological research, such as have been attained during the last decade in England and France, have very materially furthered our knowledge of plant forms, and have made to live again before our eyes in a most surprising manner and in the finest details of their structure, types long since vanished from the surface of the earth.

But does this limitation of morphology to the comparative phylogenetic method which is imposed upon the paleontologist exist also for the morphological study of living plants?

There are many of the opinion of Scott; and, indeed, a special 'phylogenetic method,' which is said to be a characteristic of modern morphology, has even been talked of.

Were this the case, then the only difference between the morphology of the present and the earlier, idealistic morphology would consist in this, that in the place of the general ideas with which this operates, as, e. g., 'type,' 'plan of organization,' etc., there would be found phylogenetic conceptions. Such general abstractions are, however, even now difficult to escape, since we can set forth real descent-series only in the fewest instances, and, accordingly, we can not actually point out the stem forms. Yet Darwin himself said:

We have seen that the members of the same class, independently of their habits of life, resem

2 Address to the botanical section, British Association for the Advancement of Science, Liverpool, 1896.

ble each other in the general plan of their organization. This resemblance is often expressed by the termunity of type '; or by saying that the several parts and organs in the different species of the class are homologous. The whole subject is included under the general term of Morphology. This is one of the most interesting departments of natural history, and may almost be said to be its very soul.

The significance of formal morphology can not be more forcibly expressed than it was by Darwin. And yet we see that, in Germany at least, interest in morphological problems has greatly decreased. Morphological treatises have become relatively less numerous; morphological books, even such excellent ones as, e. g., Eichler's 'Blüthendiagramme,' do not pass through a second edition, while anatomical and physiological works appear repeatedly in new editions; evidently meeting the demands of the botanical public more fully than morphological works. This may be referred to reasons which lie partly without and partly within morphology itself; both turn out to be true. Histology, cytology and experimental physiology have developed remarkably; new methods in this field promise new results; particular lines of work, however, such as descriptive anatomy, are especially favored because the perfection of the methods of research have quite materially lightened the task of working through a vast array of materials, especially for those to whom the other fields of botanical study are more or less unfamiliar.

But the reasons for the phenomenon which lie within the field of morphology are also clear. Some parts of morphology are well worked out, as, e. g., the doctrine of the more obvious form relations of plants, and the homologies, at least in the large, are determined, although in the matter of detail much remains vague and offers a wide field for exhaustive studies in development. More and more, however, these

[blocks in formation]

studies bear the stamp of repetition and complement, from which the stimulus of newness is wanting, or they are carried on upon materials which are very difficult to obtain. The constructions of the idealistic morphology, however, often proved to be untenable.

But the first experiments towards a causal morphology, brought disillusion. For only a short time lived the hope of being able to answer, e. g., the question as to the arrangement of leaves through the effect of mechanical factors, or to refer the form-relations of a plant to the direct influences of gravity and light on the plant. It soon became evident, however, that such involved problems are not to be unraveled by such simple means, and this may well have resulted in the suppression of interest in morphology.

At this point phylogenetic morphology appeared to take on a new lease of life. This, however, in natural science is connected, on the one hand, with the appearance of a new, creative (?) idea, and, on the other hand, with the discovery of new methods. Now the theory of descent has powerfully stimulated morphological research. But has it brought to it, as, e. g., Strasburger has held, a new method, the phylogenetic? Alexander Braun has already properly answered this question in the negative.

Scott, also, has maintained that historical morphology (as regards both living and fossil plants) is dependent upon comparative study, that is, makes use of the same method as was in evidence before the appearance of the theory of descent; indeed, the most important homologies in the plant kingdom became known through Hofmeister at a time when the idea of descent was far from that general acceptation which it at first gained through the life work of Darwin.

The method has then from first to last

remained the same: the most comprehensive comparison not only of mature forms, but also their development. A special 'phylogenetic method' there is not, but only a phylogenetic conception of morphological problems. problems. These are, however, just as at first was the case with idealistic morphology, purely formal. Modern morphology, in my sense, however, differs from the older in this, that it goes beyond the method of mere comparison. It allows the setting up of genetic trees to rest for the while, since, with our present knowledge, this meets with insuperable difficulties and has brought almost as much disappointment as the idealistic morphology. For just this reason, namely, because we are persuaded that no other forces have been at work during the phylogenetic history than those which now control the development of each particular organism, do we wish, first of all, more exactly to learn what these are. We are concerned not alone with the determination of the single successive stages of development. These must, of course, be followed, but in addition we should follow all phenomena which may be got at by our means of observation, whether directly, by the microscope, or by chemical analysis. We may, therefore, say: The basal problem of the present day morphology is not phylogenetic development, but development in general. We must, therefore, take our departure from the investigation of individual development (of ontogeny), for only this lies before us complete and without any break, and further, because the study of ontogeny only may proceed from the experimental point of view. An understanding of development is possible only when the conclusions, to which the observation of the phenomena of development has led us, rest upon experimental proof; in other words, when we ask questions of Nature, and obtain our answers to them.

Every little step-and with such only

are we now concerned-beyond the mere descriptive consideration of development is here of significance, and brings the possibility of further progress. And small indeed, I may add, appears to be such advance to those who, from the beginnings of phylogenetic morphology have, like Sisyphus, sustained their courage to roll again and again up the mountain the rock of phylogeny as often as it has rolled down.

It may now be attempted to examine somewhat more closely in certain particular examples the relation between phylogenetic and causal morphology. One of the changes which phylogenetic morphology has brought with it is that it seeks to ascertain which form is 'primitive' and which derived. Idealistic morphology has borne in upon us no conviction on this question, since it derives all forms from a type which is present only as a conception. But phylogenetic morphology must, on the one hand, always reckon with the possibility of polyphyletic development, and, on the other hand, it can operate not only with reversionary structures, as did the idealistic morphology, but must be far more concerned in determining which forms within the series which it proposes stand nearest the common point of derivation. It seeks then with diligence after 'primitive' forms. But in this search we meet with great difficulties. In the first place, we are inclined to regard those forms as primitive which have simple form-relations, and unmarked division of labor. But such forms may also have arisen by reversion, and if one looks over botanical literature, he sees, at least so far as the relationships between the larger groups are concerned, there exists no agreement as to which forms are to be regarded as primitive and which derived; often opinion on this point changes with the fashion. Thus the thallose liverworts have up till now been regarded as more primitive than the

foliose, because the vegetative body of the former is much more simple in construction than that of the latter, and between them there are found gentle gradations. Recently, however, the attempt has been made to derive the thallose from the foliose forms. This is not the place to examine the evidence for or against such derivation. How vacillating is the point of view from which it is judged what form is primitive is shown by the various positions which have from time to time been given to the apetalous dicotyledons.

The old morphology regarded these as reduced forms because their flowers are less fully differentiated than those of most of the other dicotyledons. Eichler has, however, already shown that there is no ground for maintaining that the corolla in the 'Iuliflora' and 'Centrosperma' has suffered reduction; and on this point we can only agree with him. But must they, because the perianth shows simpler form relations and also because the number relations within the flower are not always constant, be therefore primitive? Even if we admit that these groups have a great geological age, it is not proved that they stand as regards their total organization on a lower plane of development; old and primitive forms are the same only when it can be shown that the former stand nearer to the stem forms of the angiosperms than other forms. If this is not capable of proof, then the old forms may just as well be the end terms of long developmental series as others, only that the differentiation of organs has not taken place to the same degree as in the others. Now, we do not know the stem forms if the angiosperms, and they may never, perhaps, be known. But even if we content ourselves by reconstructing them on the basis of comparative study, I can find no reason, e. g., to regard the Cupuliferæ as primitive forms, while I can find many reasons for not doing so.

Here may be cited chalazogamy, which elsewhere occurs in forms which may be regarded as degenerate; the facts that only a few of the ovules develop further; that at the time of anthesis they are in many forms not yet present, and finally the dicliny of the flowers. There has been much contention over the question whether the androgynous flowers of these forms are to be admitted to be the original form or not.

Let us look at, e. g., the Cupuliferæ. Most of the forms have diclinous flowers. In Castanea vesca, however, androgynous flowers occur regularly, and in the male flowers rudiments of the ovary, in the female flowers staminodia are often evident. But we know that for reduced organs all gradations occur from nearly complete development to almost entire disap

pearance.

From the formal standpoint, then, the androgynous flowers may, with at least as much justice, be regarded as primitive as the diclinous ones, which, more recently, have been thus branded. Just this question is, however, fitted to clear up the difference between pure phylogenetic and causal morphology. The latter says: By the mere comparison of forms morphological questions may not at all be decided. We must first of all become more closely acquainted with the forms to be compared, by seeking to determine the conditions under which, in living plants, the configuration of parts is produced. Concerning the flowers of the Cupuliferæ the question then arises: is the occurrence of male and female flowers dependent upon different conditions and are these other than those under which androgynous flowers arise? As a matter of fact, it may be determined that, e. g., in the oak the female flowers always occur in those parts of the twig which are stronger, that is, better nourished than those in which the male flowers occur. This offers us, however, only a point of departure for a more exhaustive research.

When we know better the relation between the formation of flowers and the total activity of the plant, when we have the ability at will to cause it to produce male, female or androgynous flowers, when we further know how it is determined that the oak usually brings to development only one out of six ovules, and why the pollen tube follows a different path than the usual, then may we further discuss the question whether the Cupuliferæ are primitive or not-for then shall we have better grounds for phylogenetic conclusions than we have at present, and we shall then recognize with great probability the changes which have taken place in these organs as phenomena resulting from changes in the total organization of these plants.

So, as the matter now stands, we can not deceive ourselves on this point, that the constructions of the old morphology, although confined almost entirely to vestigial series, nevertheless stood on firmer ground than the modern speculations on the question of primitive forms. Starting with a completely endowed form, we can follow the reduction of form through intergradations and, by reference to vestigial organs, often with convincing certainty. But by what means shall we judge a rudimentary organ? Is it more than a gratuitous assumption, when, as recently was the case, a certain botanist declares the lodicules

of grasses to be not a perigone, but a rudiment (Ansatz) of a perigone? Whereby may one recognize a rudiment, i. e., the attempt to form something new, an attempt which, however, has remained nothing more? In what way may we distinguish such a rudiment from a vestigial organ? And, finally, after one has broken faith with the old vestigial series, is it not still more of the stamp of formal morphology if he contents himself in arranging forms in series and then comes to a standstill when he tries to decide at which end

« ՆախորդըՇարունակել »