TRANSACTIONS
OF THE
HULL
GEOLOG ICAL
SOCIETY
THE RELATIONS OF PALEONTOLOGY TO STRATIGRAPHY.
By G. W. LAMPLUC.H, F.R.S., F.G.S.
Address delivered at a meeting of the Hull Geological Society, in Hull, on
Friday, April 2nd, 1925.
I
dare
say that many members of this Society, like myself, had their interest in
Geology first aroused by the fossils that are so abundant on our coasts and
in our quarries, and began by collecting these fossils. Then, no doubt, like
me, they wanted names for their specimens; and probably believed, as I did,
that every, or nearly every fossil had its name, if one could only get hold
of the person who knew it. This desire for the name of a thing is deeply
implanted in our nature, as witness the old story in Genesis of how Adam's
first business on earth was to give names to the newly-created animals. The
fact is, we do most of our thinking by using names as symbols; so, of
course, we are anxious to get hold of a distinguishing symbol we have to
deal with or think about, and it seems contrary to the proper order to find
things without names. In my own case, my youthful impression that an
unnamable fossil was a great rarity was fortified by a well-remembered
conversation with a gentleman who watched me chipping out fossils from the
chalk scars at Sewerby one summer evening about fifty years ago, and told me
that if I kept it up long enough I might someday find a new species and have
it named after me, which he implied was about as big a piece of luck as
could happen to anyone.
How times have changed! Now-a-days one counts it luck to find .any fossil
that can have a good, sure ready-made name attached to it, and most of the
specimens in our cabinets are, at the best, cfs. or affr. or ?
s, even when they happen to have been subjected to the examination of
qualified specialists. This change de- notes an alteration in the relation
between stratigraphy and paleontology which has been in slow progress for
many years, but has proceeded more rapidly of late. I propose now to
consider some aspects of the relation- ship, and to note some of the
advantages, as well as some of the difficulties, which have arisen from it.
Ever since the pioneer work of William Smith, stratigraphers have recognized
the importance of fossils as determinants of the sequence and correlation of
the strata, and it soon became habitual for them to pin their faith on the
fossil evidence. The broad distinctions between the commoner forms were
readily learnt, and for general purposes the stratigrapher found no
difficulty in acquainting himself with the main types characterizing the
different formations. So far as his aim was simply to trace the course of
the formations, and to interpret their structural arrangement, he had no
need to consider the value and meaning of the fossils as indicators of
former life: their usefulness to him would have been the same if they had
been, as was once believed, mere simulacra or markings stamped at creation
in the rock by inorganic tendencies. The markings, whatever they meant, were
found to be of the same kind in strata of the same order in the sequence:
and that was the really significant factor. "Medals of Creation," they were
figuratively called by Gideon Mantell--and the term is quite appropriate
from the stratigrapher's point of view.
With the rapid accumulation of specimens, however, the geologist soon found
such immense variety among his "medals," that he was glad to make over the
business of sorting and naming them to other hands, and their study grew
quickly into the separate science of paleontology. But when the
paleontologist got to work, he found many interests in them other than the
stratigraphical, and generally swung over, almost of necessity, to regard
their zoological aspect as the more important. So it has come about that
instead of being content to remain as auxiliary to the stratigrapher, the
advanced paleontologist of the present day is inclined to turn the table and
to consider stratigraphy mainly .as an adjunct to assist him in following up
the evolution of life on the earth.
And there is much to be said for this attitude, as it is only from the
fossils that the zoologist, the botanist and the biologist can hope to gain
any sure information about the ancestry of the existing forms of life, and
so about the course of evolution. Moreover, the fossils have revealed to him
a multitude of highly interesting organisms, of which he would otherwise
have remained in total ignorance, and the knowledge thus acquired profoundly
affected the interpretation of the anatomy and derivation of every living
thing.
But the development of palaeontology on the biological side has required
such a prolonged and intensive study of the fossils, that it is only by
individual specialization of effort in a narrow field that further progress
can be achieved. The early type of paleontologist, who ranged to the best of
his ability over the whole of the animal and vegetable kingdom of all the
geological periods, and fitted approximate names to almost every fossil
submitted to him, is no longer to be found; and in his place we have a group
of specialists, each concentrating his study on some particular Class or
Order of organism, and unwilling to devote attention to any fossil outside
his province. And since these special studies are voluntary and
un-coordinated, it happens often enough that the fossils about which we may
be most anxious to obtain expert advice do not fall within the scope of any
specialist at the time of our enquiry.
As an inevitable result of close specialization in paleontology, it has
followed that the broad distinctions for genera and species introduced by
the older workers are found quite inadequate for the needs of the specialist
who has learnt by continuous intensive examination to recognize differences
as of prime consequence, which had been previously overlooked or regarded as
of no particular significance. A copious crop of new names has been required
to denote these newly-discovered features and relationships, and the old
names have been scrapped or restricted or re-combined
to suit the special requirements of the investigator, often to the confusion
of the stratigrapher who could make good use
of the old term, while quite
unable to follow the refinements
of the new
work. Moreover, with the constant
intensification of paleontological research, every successive
specialist on a particular class of organisms has found reason to amend,
amplify or discard much of the nomenclature of his predecessor;
so that now the study of the mere synonymy or literature relating to a
fossil may be a more arduous task than the study of the fossil itself.
The modern paleontologist says in effect, "You must not use a name unless
you use it correctly (i.e., as I myself should use it), or else you
will deceive me." We are told, too, that most of the old-fashioned familiar
names of the commoner fossils are really only "omnibus" names, or"
collective" names, covering several different species, sometimes even
assignable to different genera,
and that we may mislead if we use the name except in its newly restricted
sense. But often enough the stratigrapher will find that if he gives up the
old usage of a name, he is left with no name at all, perhaps because his
material is not well enough preserved to allow the finer shades of
determination, or because he cannot obtain the advice of the expert
qualified to apply the new nomenclature. This raises a real and growing
difficulty in attempting the description of field work .on fossiliferous
rocks, and, I think, renders it necessary that we should seek some way to
obviate it. To this purpose I have adopted, in my recent papers, the plan of
indicating that the name of a fossil is used in the broad old sense by
printing it in ordinary Roman type instead .of in italics, reserving italics
for such names, if any, as have been conferred on the fossil after its
scrutiny by a specialist. By this method the paleontologist is warned
against accepting inexpert determinations, while at the same time an idea of
the general characters of the fossil is conveyed to him as well as to the
stratigrapher. I commend the method to your attention, with the
anticipation" that it--or something equivalent to it-- will go some way
toward relieving the difficulty in question.
It is a commonplace to say that the application of paleontology to
stratigraphy has cleared up many obscurities and corrected many
misconceptions which could not otherwise have been removed. Perhaps the most
striking example in our own country, and the one which has had the greatest
influence on the relationship of the two branches of our science is Charles
Lapworth's elucidation of the close-folded structure of the Lower
Palaeozoics of the Southern Upland by means of the graptolites, after the
failure of ordinary stratigraphical methods of survey.
The demonstration, so immediately convincing, seemed at the time to have a
touch of wizardry in it, and the application of the method successfully to
similar regions all over the world put the paleontologists on a pedestal on
which they have ever since maintained themselves.
But it must always be remembered that Charles Lapworth's results, both here
and in the north-west Highlands, were attained by a combination of thorough
stratigraphy with palaeontology, and that it is the same combination which
has proved so powerful in in- numerable later instances, of which I may
mention as typical and local, the unravelling of the Carboniferous Limestone
by Vaughan, followed by Garwood and other workers, and the correlation and
zoning of the Chalk by A. W. Rowe. For work of this kind, broadly conceived,
and carried out mainly in the field, we can have nothing but admiration.
There is, however, another type of paleontological work, carried out mainly
in the cabinet and museum, which, while of immense importance to the
biological sciences, and often also yielding valuable aid to stratigraphy,
has yet to be regarded critically when it seeks, as sometimes happens, to
impress its conclusions as to the proper order of the rocks as final. From
the intensive study of large quantities of material, the palaeontol0gist is
led to believe that he can follow the course of evolution in some particular
group through successive strata, or sometimes even through successive
formations, and can produce an accurate family tree enabling him to assign
any particular form to its proper place in the sequence. In many cases he
has indeed justified his claim, and the stratigrapher finds that the
succession of forms in the strata is the same as that deduced by the
palaeontologist in the study. But this is not always so, and I want to dwell
upon some of the uncertainties that beset the study of phylogeny, as
this tracing of ancestors is called.
To begin with, it is always to be remembered that the fossil in most cases
represents only the extraneous parts or mere skeleton of the living
animal--the shell, test, carapace, bone, or what not--and even these, with
imperfection of varying degree. In the absence of other evidence, it has to
be assumed that the living structure can be deduced from these remains; and
the assumption can no doubt be made safely where the fossil has closely
allied living analogues in which the relation- ship of the hard and soft
parts of the animal can be investigated. But as we descend in the geological
scale we encounter an ever-widening divergence between the living forms and
those of the past, so that the assumption carries an increasing charge of
speculation and dubious analogy.
In some cases, no doubt, the fossil remains do actually reveal the lines of
descent by the changing details of their shape, ornamentation, or other
structural characters, as, for example, Dr. Rowe has proved in respect to
some of the echinoderms of the Chalk ; but in other cases the
palaeontologist has found that the criteria at first depended upon are
misleading, as, for example, in respect to the shape and external characters
of the Carboniferous brachiopods, and the ornamentation of the shell of the
Mesozoic ammonites. A good illustration of false analogy came within my own
experience in my younger days. When I had accumulated a large collection of
the Chalk Sponges from Sewerby Sponge-beds, I noticed, as everyone who has
collected there must do, that they presented an infinite variety of shapes.
Being deeply imbued with the Darwinian theory -- then in the flush of its
vigour -- I began to arrange the collection in an evolutionary sequence
according to external shape, regardless of any other character, and found,
bye and bye, that I had a practically unbroken chain, starting from the long
cucumber form--Spongia
radiciformis we called it then--through shapes with a gradually
expanding top, to the mushroom shape, Spongia plana, and thence
through a series of more and more deeply notched and cup-like forms to the
involute Spongia convoluta, leading on to the complex twisted forms
for which we had no name, the whole sequence embracing all the shapes to be
found in the beds, so that there was an appropriate place in it for every
fresh specimen that I obtained.
I remember that I was quite proud of this " evolutionary sequence"
(in fact some of you may have seen the display) ; but I know now that the
external shapes I depended upon have no biological significance, and are
well-nigh useless as determinants of the genetic affinities and relationship
of the sponges.
It is recognized now that the older pulmonologists have followed many false
trails of this kind; and if we may judge by the constant rejection by the
latest specialist of the methods and conclusions of his predecessors, it is
pretty certain that there are really but few cases where, as yet, the true
trail has been struck. After the surface ornament had been proved
untrustworthy, it was held that the sutures of the chambers were the only
true guides to the phylogeny" but I understand that the latest work has
shown that the sutures have also proved unworthy of the trust placed in
them, and that some of the conclusions based upon them will have to be
revised.
Now, as long as this kind of uncertainty exists, it is obviously unsafe to
trust wholly to a time-scale based on the supposed family tree of the
fossils. Long family trees, even among us humans, have generally to be taken
with a grain of salt--and when we come to, say, ammonite family trees that
are longer by many a hundred thousand times, and are inferred only from the
shapes of the coffins, it must not be imputed as an insult if we .adopt a
critical attitude toward the paleontologist.
Certainly we must listen to him, even if he says we have got our beds upside
down, and we must go into the field again to see whether by any chance this
is so. But when we are quite sure that it is not so, and that the sequence
of the beds is beyond question, it is time to tell the paleontologist that
there is something amiss with his phylogeny, and that he must shape the idea
into accordance with the facts. To do otherwise will only lead to ultimate
confusion and error on both sides. Stratigraphy must be the final court of
appeal in disputes as to time and sequence, and we must take care to
maintain its rights.
It is true that there are ways in which the stratigrapher may be misled by
the present position of fossils.
There is, for instance, the possibility that the fossil may be a derivative
from some older bed. Yorkshire geologists need no reminder of this
possibility, with the conspicuous case of the "omnium gatherum," the
boulder-clay, always before them. But usually the character of the deposit
will be a sufficient warning to the geologist. If it is a pebble-bed, and
any of the pebbles are from fossiliferous rocks, derivative fossils are of
course to be expected. But in fine-grained sediments we may safely regard
the fossils as indigenous, unless there is very strong evidence to the
contrary. Now, I find that the zonal paleontologists are far too ready to
write down a fossil as derivative whenever it happens to occur in a position
not in accordance with their phylogenetic scheme, and I often feel that this
way of dealing with the evidence is not justifiable. To discard all the
awkward pieces as "derivative" and to retain just those which will fit
nicely into a pre- conceived scheme, is surely not a satisfactory way of
playing the game. Yet it is a way that is not uncommon, and has lately also
invaded the field of palaeolithic culture-classification rather badly.
Fossils preserved in phosphatic nodules are particularly liable to be dealt
with in this manner, with perhaps a certain measure of justification, since
the nodules are hard enough to bear some degree of transportation, and are
generally surrounded by material that is soft and readily disintegrated. But
most phosphatic nodules weather quickly and wear down rapidly under
attrition, and I am satisfied for several reasons that many of the so-called
derivative fossils of our Mesozoic phosphatic nodule-beds are really in
their proper stratigraphical position. What I find usually to be the case is
that the fossils of the nodule-band are all newer than the stratum next
underlying it, and all older than the stratum next overlying it, but that
the band itself is a " condensed " bed, marking a comparatively long
interval of time, and containing within itself all that remains of the life
of perhaps more than one zone as known elsewhere. I am sure that
misconceptions have constantly arisen from the habit of the palaeontologists
to write down any inconvenient fossil of such a band as an alien.
Another difficulty besetting the stratigrapher in the use of fossils is the
relatively great proportional thickness of strata from which fossils are
absent even in formations regarded as rich in fossils. For the inches of
fossiliferous rock one usually finds at least as many feet containing no
remains or mere traces too badly preserved for identification.
By concentrating on the rich inches one gets together a good collection, and
is apt to forget the barren feet. But it is clear that in most cases the
record of life which we obtain is widely discontinuous. Even in the most
fossiliferous bands we are aware that the relics we find must represent only
one in a thousand, or in ten thousand, or in a million, of the once living
animals, while the barren beds represent in themselves the greater part of
the time. " The imperfection of the geological record" so strongly and
rightly insisted upon by Darwin and other great naturalists of the last
century is a ruling factor which the field-geologist is not likely to lose
sight of, though the paleontologists of late seem too ready to ignore it in
building up their ancestral trees.
And when one considers the conditions, there is really some excuse for the
palaeontologist in this. Whatever the branch or twig of the tree of life
that he chooses to specialize upon --foraminifera, corals, brachiopods,
gastropods, cephalopods, crustacea, fish, reptiles, plants, or what not-- he
finds already in our public and private collections an accumulation of more
material than will suffice for his life's work, and becomes naturally to
regard it as sufficient also to build up the story which he has set himself
to tell, and will cover all the ground. But in reality the story can only be
a clever linking up of detached pieces of evidence by processes of deduction
varying in soundness with the ability of the investigator. The results
attained may be and have often proved to be very useful in stratigraphy; but
if they should clash with good stratigraphical evidence, they should be "referred
back" to the palaeontologists for further consideration, and not allowed to
distort the simpler evidence of the strata.
Another difficulty besetting the specialist in palaeontology is that as his
studies progress he becomes aware of more and more minute shades of
difference between Specimens with a general resemblance, and finds it
necessary to distinguish these shades by name or symbol, as they have
sometimes proved to be more important as guides to the phylogeny than other
more conspicuous differences. But a close enough study of any animals,
living or dead, always tends to show that no two individuals of a kind are
exactly alike, any more than are the individuals of the human kind ;
and it is much more difficult with fossils than with living animals to tell
which differences are of specific rank, and which merely individual. So it
comes about that one specialist sometimes unmakes as many so-called "
species " of his predecessor as he makes new ones of his own.
One might run over many more such points of imperfection in paleontological
method if time had permitted, but it is not really necessary to do so. It
will be acknowledged on all hands that paleontology is now a separate and
rapidly advancing science with great achievements to its credit on many
sides, but still in the turmoil of discovery where fact and conjecture, both
helpful, tend at time to become confused. Some of the conjectures are likely
to be so wide-reaching in their influence upon human thought in biology and
philosophy that one can understand an occasional attitude of superiority of
the palaeontologist toward the mere stratigrapher. I may briefly refer, as
an example of the great things that may spring from the specialist's work on
fossils to a conception which is tinging the whole of modern
palaeontological research, and is profoundly affecting our ideas as to the
course and method of evolution. The conception is that evolution is not
primarily brought about by the play of external conditions as supposed by
Darwin, but that the changes are in some mysterious way inherent 'in the
organism, and follow a definite course, while only the rate of change has
been retarded or accelerated by external conditions. This is the doctrine or
theory of orthogenesis, and if it should be firmly established, it will mean
a radical revision of the Darwinian teaching. Dr. Lang for the polyzoa, Dr.
Gertrude Elles for the graptolites, Mr. Buckman for the cephalopods and
brachiopods, other workers for the oysters, others for the corals, others
for the reptiles all declare that they have come across strong evidence for
this orthogenesis, and are compelled to adopt it as an explanation of the
facts of observation. It is really the old puzzle of predestination, which
has worried man ever since he became capable of abstract thought, cropping
up in a new place. If these modern palaeontologists are right, it means that
just as there are predestined and inevitable stages in an individual life
--stages of inception, youth, maturity, old age, and extinction -- so there
are equivalent stages in the composite life of the species, the genus, the
family, the order that must continue in a proper and discoverable sequence
unless the strand of life is prematurely snapped by untoward
circumstances, but cannot be prolonged indefinitely by any circumstance.
So
far as I have been able to grasp the idea, it seems to be expressed by the
quatrain of Fitzgerald's "Omar,"
ending:
And
the first morning of Creation wrote
What
the last dawn of Reckoning shall read.
With
matters of this portentiousness to deal with. it is not to be wondered at
that the modern paleontologist is inclined to shake himself free from the
trammels of strict geology and to build on his own account, in- dependently
of the stratigrapher. Instead of allowing paleontology to continue to serve
as "the hand-maid of Geology," he tends, as I have already said, to view the
relationship in reverse order, and regards stratigraphy only as a useful
helper in his efforts to grasp the scheme of life, and to be looked at
askance when the desired help is not forthcoming. But in point of fact it
must be recognized that the two sciences are united by inseparable bonds,
and that paleontology without stratigraphy would be no science at all, but
merely a field for speculative dogma.
While, therefore, it behoves the geologist to listen with respectful
attention to every sincere attempt of the paleontologist to explain the
order and succession of life by the relics obtained from the rocks, it
behoves him also to listen critically; and whenever there may seem to be a
clash between the two lines of evidence, to revise his own observations
carefully in order to make sure that there is no error on his side; and when
he is sure, to give his verdict firmly as from the final court of appeal. To
do otherwise would be, as I have
said before, hurtful in the long run to both sciences.
And on this note of warning I will conclude
Copyright Hull Geological Society 2016