physiological processes; they imply not only consciousness, but highly elaborated consciousness.
Dr. Jennings’s researches show that no such implication can be accepted unless we are prepared to cast aside the trammels of reasonable caution. In the first place, the whole matter of feeding appears to be referable to simple organic behaviour not necessarily involving consciousness. The cilia in the mouth-groove and funnel constantly wave in such a manner as to drive a current of water, together with any particles which float therein, towards the interior; and the particles are then engulphed, no matter what their composition may be. Digestible or indigestible, in they go. There is no selection of the one or rejection of the other. But, as we have seen, the Paramecia collect around a bacterial clot and feed upon it. Surely here there is selection of the nutritious! Apparently not. They collect in just the same way towards a piece of blotting-paper, cotton-wool, cloth, sponge, or other fibrous body, and remain assembled round such an innutritious centre just as long as round a bacterial clot. There seems to be no choice in the matter; contact with any substance gives rise, as an organic response, to the lessening or cessation of the regular movements in all the cilia except those of the mouth-groove and funnel. As the Paramecia swim hither and thither, first one, then another, then more, chance to come in contact with the bacterial clot, the blotting-paper, or other substance, and since the lashing of the cilia is then automatically lessened, there they stay; others find their way to the same spot in the course of their random movements, and they, too, stay; thus many soon collect.
But this does not account for the seemingly social assemblages of Paramecia where there is no such substance to arrest their progress. Dr. Jennings attributes this to the fact that a dilute solution of carbon-dioxide has, what we may call for the present, an attractive influence. If a bubble of air and a bubble of carbon dioxide be introduced into the water in which Paramecia are swimming beneath a cover-glass, the animalcules collect around the carbonic dioxide, but not around the air bubble. At first they press up close to the bubble of carbon dioxide, but gradually form a ring farther and farther from its limiting boundary. This is held to be due to the fact that it is only the dilute solution of carbonic acid that has the peculiar “attraction”—a stronger solution has a different effect. And, as the gas dissolves, the Paramecia collect in a ring just where the solution is sufficiently dilute.
Now carbon dioxide is a product of the organic waste of living substance; it is given off by active Paramecia. Where therefore many are collected together they form a centre of the production of this substance; and when other Paramecia come, in the course of their random movements, into such a centre they remain there and help to swell the numbers in the cluster. If Paramecia be placed in water to which a distinctly reddish tinge is given by mixing it with a small quantity of rosol—a substance which is decolourized by carbon dioxide, and is not injurious to Paramecia—it will be seen that, where the groups are collected, the reddish tinge fades and disappears. As the groups expand, and are less densely packed, the colourless area expands too: and the limits within which the group is circumscribed are also the limits of decolourization. Dr. Jennings considers it beyond question that the assembling of Paramecia is due to the presence in such assemblages of carbonic acid produced by the animals themselves. The first beginning of the crowd may be some small fragment of bacterial clot or other substance.
It would seem, then, that Paramecia are attracted by faintly acid solutions; and here at least there is, it may be urged, an element of choice. But even here, according to Dr. Jennings, there is not only no real choice, but not even any real attraction. What takes place, according to his observations, is briefly as follows. Suppose a faintly acid drop be inserted beneath the cover-glass. Paramecia may almost graze its boundary without being in any way affected by its presence. But in their random movements some, and eventually many, perhaps most, of the little animals chance to enter the faintly acid region; but there is no sign of reaction or response; they swim on across the drop until they reach its further margin. Here a reaction does take place. Instead of proceeding onwards, slowly revolving on its long axis, a Paramecium thus situated jerks backwards by a reversal of all the cilia, at the same time revolving on its axis in a direction opposite to that in which it was before turning. But the cilia of the mouth-groove resume their normal mode of working sooner than the others, and this causes the Paramecium to turn aside. It then goes ahead until it again reaches the boundary at another point, when the same behaviour is seen. The course of such a Paramecium is shown in Fig. 2, IV.
If, instead of a faintly acid drop, a little alkaline liquid be introduced beneath the cover-glass, the Paramecium similarly jerks backward and turns aside on reaching its outer boundary. The turning may carry it away from the alkali, as shown in Fig. 2, V.; but it just as often brings it again towards the drop, especially a large one. It seems to be a matter of chance which result follows. But eventually the little creature sails off, since each time it comes within the influence of the alkaline fluid it jerks back and turns. It appears, then, that when it is swimming in a normal solution a faintly acid liquid does not much modify its behaviour, but an alkaline fluid evokes a reversal of the cilia; and that when it is a slightly acid solution, not only does stronger acid cause reversal, but normal fluid produces a similar result. A reaction of essentially the same kind is in fact called forth by such different stimuli as chemical substances, water heated above the normal temperature, or cooled considerably below it, and fluids which cause changes of internal pressure within the substance of the cell. Nor does it matter where the stimulus is applied. If it be applied at the hinder end the infusorian still jerks backward, though this may drive it into a destructive solution and thus cause death. There is, however, some evidence of different behaviour in some infusorians according as the stimulus is here or there. In other words, the behaviour is to some extent related to the position of the part stimulated.
Furthermore, it may be gathered from Dr. Jennings’s account that there is nothing to lead us to suppose that such free living cells show any indication of what may be regarded as the keynote of intelligent behaviour. They do not profit by experience. They exhibit organic reactions which may be accompanied by some dim form of consciousness, but which do not seem to be under the guidance of such consciousness, if it exist.
One of the first lessons which the study of animal behaviour, in its organic aspect, should impress upon our minds is, that living cells may react to stimuli in a manner which we perceive to be subservient to a biological end, and yet react without conscious purpose—that is to say, automatically. The living cell assimilates food and absorbs oxygen, it grows and subdivides, it elaborates secretions, produces a skeletal framework or covering, rids itself of waste products, responds to stimuli in a definite fashion, moves hither and thither at random, its functional activities being stimulated or checked by many influences; and yet this varied life may give no evidence of a guiding consciousness: if purpose there be, it lies deeper than its protoplasm, deeper than the dim sentience which may be present or may be absent—we cannot tell which.
And when the cells are incorporated in the body of one of the higher animals, instead of each preserving a free and nomad existence; when they become the multitudinous constituents of an organic republic with unity of plan and unity of biological end, then the behaviour of each is limited in range but perfected within that range, in subservience to the requirements of the more complex unity. The muscle cell contracts, the gland-cell secretes, the rods and cones of the retina respond to the waves of light, and all the normal responses of the special cells go on with such orderly regularity that the term behaviour seems scarcely applicable to reactions so stereotyped. But the physiologist and the physician know well that such uniformity of response is dependent on uniformity of conditions. A little dose of some drug will profoundly modify and render abnormal the procedure which was before so mechanical in its exactitude; and we are thus led to see how dependent the orderly behaviour really is on the maintenance of certain surrounding conditions.
Moreover, the existence of every cell in the body corporate is the outcome of a process of division involving a special mode of behaviour in the nucleus, of which we are only beginning to guess the meaning and significance, and of which we seek in vain to find an explanation in mechanical terms. And when we trace these divisions back to their primary source in the fertilized ovum, we find changes and evolutions in the nuclear matter of which it can only be said that the more they are studied the more complex and varied do they appear.
The egg, or ovum, is