Thursday, March 25, 2010

Man does not stand alone by A Cressy Marrison

The American scientist, A Cressy Morrison, Head of the Science Academy
in New York, says in his book "Man Does Not Stand Alone":

Birds have the homing instinct. The robin that nested at your door
may go south in the autumn, but will come back to his old nest the
next spring. In September, flocks of many of our birds fly south,
often over a thousand miles of open sea, but they do not lose their
way. The homing pigeon, confused by new sounds on a long journey in
a closed box, circles for a moment then heads almost unerringly for
home. The bee finds its hive while the wind waving the grasses and
trees blots out every visible guide to its whereabouts. This homing
sense is slightly developed in man, but he supplements his meagre
equipment with instruments of navigation.

We need this instinct and our brain provides the answer. The tiny
insects must have microscopic eyes, how perfect we do not know, and
the hawks, the eagle and the condor must have telescopic vision. Here
again man surpasses them with his mechanical instruments. With his
telescope he can see a nebula so faint that it requires two million
times his vision, and with the electron microscope he can see hither
to invisible bacteria and, so to speak the little bugs that bite
them.

If you let old Dobbin alone he will keep to the road in the blackest
night. He can see, dimly perhaps, but he notes the difference in
temperature of the road and the sides with eyes that are slightly
affected by the infra-red rays of the road. The owl can see the nice
warm mouse as he runs in the cooler grass in the blackest night. We
turn night into day by creating radiation in that short octave we
call light.

The honey-bee workers make chambers of different sizes in the comb
used for breeding. Small chambers are constructed for the workers,
larger ones for the drones, and special chambers for the prospective
queens. The queen bee lays unfertilized eggs in the cells designed for
males, but lays fertilized eggs in the proper chambers for the female
workers and the possible queens. The workers, who are the modified
females, having long since anticipated the coming of the new
generation, are also prepared to furnish food for the young bees by
chewing and predigesting honey and pollen. They discontinue the
process of chewing, including the predigesting, at a certain stage
of the development of the males and females, and feed only honey and
pollen. The females so treated become the workers.

For the females in the queen chambers the diet of chewed and
predigested food is continued. These specially treated females develop
into queen bees, which alone produce fertile eggs. This process of
reproduction involves special chambers, special eggs, and the marvelous
effect of a change of diet. This means anticipation, discretion, and
the application of a discovery of the effect of diet.

These changes apply particularly to a community life and seem necessary
to its existence. The knowledge and skills required must have been
evolved after the beginnings of this community life, and are not
necessarily inherent in the structure or the survival of the honey
bee as such. The bee, therefore, seems to have out stripped man in
knowledge of the effects of diet under certain conditions.

The dog with an inquiring nose can sense the animal that has passed.
No instrument of human invention has added to our inferior sense of
smell, and we hardly know where to begin to investigate its extension.
Yet even our sense of smell is so highly developed that it can detect
ultra-microscopic particles.

How do we know that we all get the same reaction from any single odour?
The fact is that we do not. Taste also gives a very different sensation
to each of us. How strange that these differences in perception are
hereditary.

All animals hear sounds, many of which are outside our range of
vibration, with an acuteness that far surpasses our limited sense of
hearing. Man by his devices can now hear a fly walking miles away as
though it was on his eardrums, and with like instruments record the
impact of a cosmic ray.

One of the water spiders fashions a balloon-shaped nest of cobweb
filaments and attaches it to some object under water. Then she
ingeniously entangles an air bubble in the hairs of her under body,
carries it into the water, and releases it under the nest. This
performance is repeated until the nest is inflated, when she proceeds
to bring forth and raise her young safe from attack by air. Here we
have a synthesis of the web, engineering, construction, and
aeronautics. Chance perhaps, but that still leaves the spider
unexplained.

The young salmon spends years at sea, then comes back to his own river,
and, what is more, he travels up the side of the river into which flows
the tributary in which he was born. The laws of the States on one side
of the dividing stream may be strict and the other side not, but these
laws affect only the fish which may be said to belong to each side.
What brings them back so definitely?

If a salmon going up a river is transferred to another tributary he
will at once realize he is not in the right tributary and will fight
his way down to the main stream and then turn up against the current
to finish his destiny. There is, however, a much more difficult reverse
problem to solve in the case of the eel. These amazing creatures
migrate at maturity from all the ponds and rivers everywhere, those
from Europe across thousands of miles of ocean, all go to the abysmal
deeps south of Bermuda. There they breed and die.

The little ones, with no apparent means of knowing anything except
that they are in a wilderness of water, start back and find their way
to the shore from which their parents came and thence to every river,
lake and little pond, so that each body of water is always populated
with eels. They have braved the mighty currents, storms and tides, and
have conquered the beating waves on every shore. They can now grow and
when they are mature, they will, by some mysterious law, go back
through it all to complete the cycle.

Where does the directing impulse originate? No American eel has ever
been caught in European waters and no European eel has ever been caught
in American waters. Nature has also delayed the maturity of the European
eel by a year or more to make up for its much greater journey. Do atoms
and molecules when combined in an eel have a sense of direction and
willpower to exercise it?

A female moth placed in your attic by the open window will send out
some subtle signal. Over an unbelievable area, the male moths of the
same species will catch the message and respond in spite of your
attempts to produce laboratory odours to disconcert them. Has the
little creature a broadcasting station, and has the male moth a mental
radio set beside his antennae? Does she shake the ether and does he
catch the vibration? The cricket rubs its legs or wings together, and
on a still night can be heard half a mile away. It shakes six hundred
tons of air and calls its mate. Miss Moth, working in a different
realm of physics and, in apparent silence, calls quite as effectively.
Before the radio was discovered, scientists decided it was odour that
attracted the male moth. It was a miracle either way, because the odour
would have to travel in all directions, with or without the wind. The
male moth would have to be able to detect a molecule and sense the
direction from whence it came. By a vast mechanism, we are developing
the same ability to communicate, and the day will come when a young man
may call his loved one from a distance and without mechanical medium
and she will answer. No lock or bars will stop them. Our telephone and
radio are instrumental wonders and give us means of almost instant
communication, but we are tied to a wire and a place. The moth is
still ahead of us, and we can only envy her until our brain evolves
an individual radio Then, in a sense, we will have telepathy.

Vegetation makes subtle use of involuntary agents to carry on its
existence - insects to carry pollen from flower to flower and the
winds and everything that flies or walks to distribute seed. At last,
vegetation has trapped masterful man. He has improved nature, and she
generously rewards him. But he has multiplied so prodigiously that he
is now chained to the plough. He must sow, reap, and store; breed and
cross-breed; prune and graft. Should he neglect these tasks starvation
would be his lot, civilization would crumble, and earth return to her
pristine state.

Many animals are like a lobster, which, having lost a claw, will by
some restimulation of the cells and the reactivation of the genes
discover that a part of the body is missing and restore it. When the
work is complete, the cells stop work, for in some way they know it
is quitting time. A fresh-water polyp divided into halves can reform
itself out of one of these halves. Cut off an angle worm's head and he
will soon create a new one. We can stimulate healing but when will our
surgeons, if ever, know how to stimulate the cells to produce a new
arm, flesh, bones, nails, and activating nerves?

An extraordinary fact throws some light on this mystery of recreation.
If cells in the early stages of development are separated each has
the ability to create a complete animal. Therefore, if the original
cell divides into two and they are separated, two individuals will be
developed. This may account for identical twins but it means much
more - each cell at first is in detail potentially a complete
individual. There can be no doubt then, that you are you in every cell
and fibre.

An acorn falls to the ground - its tough brown shell holds it safe.
It rolls into some earthy crevice. In the spring the germ awakes, the
shell burns food is provided by the egg like kernel in which the genes
were hidden. They send roots into the earth, and behold a sprout, a
sapling, and in years a tree. The germ with its genes has multiplied
by trillions and made the trunk, bark and every leaf and acorn
identical with that of the oak which gave it birth. For hundreds of
years in each of the countless acorns is preserved the exact
arrangement of atoms that produced the first oak tree millions of
years ago.

The author says in another chapter of his book:

Every cell that is produced in any living creature must adapt itself
to be part of the flesh, to sacrifice itself as a part of the skin,
which will soon be worn off. It must deposit the enamel of teeth,
produce the transparent liquid in an eye, or become a nose or an ear.
Each cell must then adapt itself in shape and every other
characteristic necessary to fulfil its function. It is hard to think
of a cell as right-handed or left handed, but one becomes part of a
right ear, the other becomes part of the left ear. Some crystals that
are chemically identical turn the rays of light to the left, others to
the right. There seems to be such a tendency in the cells. In the exact
place where they belong, they become a part of the right ear or the
left ear and your two ears are opposite each other on your head, and
not as in the case of a cricket, on your elbows. Their curves are
opposite, and when complete, they are so much alike you cannot tell
them apart. Hundreds of thousands of cells seem impelled to do the
right thing at the right time in the right place.

Elsewhere in his book Mr Morrison says:

In the melee of creation many creatures have come to exhibit a high
degree of certain forms of instinct, intelligence, or what not. The
wasp catches the grasshopper, digs a hole in the earth, stings the
grasshopper in exactly the right place so that he becomes unconscious
but lives as a form of preserved meat. The wasp lays her eggs exactly
in the right place, perhaps not knowing that when they hatch, her
children can eat without killing the insect on which they feed, which
would be fatal to them. The wasp must have done all this right the
first and every time, or there would be no wasps of this species.
Science cannot explain this mystery, and yet it cannot be attributed
to chance. The wasp covers a hole in the earth, departs cheerfully,
and dies. Neither she nor her ancestors have reasoned out the process,
nor does she know what happens to her offspring. She doesn't even
know that she has worked and lived her life for the preservation of
the race.

In the same book we also read:

In some species, the workers bring in little seeds to feed the other
ants through the winter. The ants establish what is known as the
grinding room, in which those which have developed gigantic jaws
especially built for grinding, prepare the food for the colony. This
is their sole occupation. When the autumn comes and the seeds are
all ground, 'the greatest good for the greatest number' requires that
the food supply be conserved and as there will be plenty of grinders
in the new generation, the soldier ants kill off the grinders,
satisfying their entomological conscience by believing perhaps that
the grinders had had reward enough in having had first chance at the
food while they ground.

Certain ants, by means of instinct or reasoning (choose which you
prefer), cultivate mushrooms for food in what may be called mushroom
gardens, and capture certain caterpillars and aphids (plant lice).
These creatures are the ants' cows and goats, from which they take
certain exudations of a honeylike nature for food. Ants capture and
keep slaves. Some ants, when they make their nests, cut the leaves to
size, and while certain workers hold the edges in place, use their
babies, which in the larval stage are capable of spinning silk, as
shuttles to sew them together. The poor baby may be bereft of the
opportunity of making a cocoon for himself, but he has served his
community. How do the inanimate atoms and molecules of matter composing
an ant set these complicated processes in motion? There must be
Intelligence somewhere.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Romans 1:20 Almighty God JEHOVAH