In the third volume of his smaller works Karl Ernst von Baer submits
the theory of selection to a most searching examination. Without
actually calling in question its scientific admissibility, he believes
that this theory is dependent upon its satisfying one condition, viz.
that it should connect the teleological with the mechanical principle.
“The Darwinian hypothesis, as stated by its supporters, always ends in
denying to the processes of nature any relation to a future, _i.e._ any
relation of aim or design. Since such relations appear to me _quite
evident_,” &c. And further:--“If the scientific correctness of the
Darwinian hypothesis is to be admitted, it must accommodate itself to
this universal striving after a purpose. If it cannot do this we should
have to deny its value.”
These words appear almost equivalent to passing a sentence of doom
upon the theory of selection and the mechanical conception of nature,
for how can one and the same process be effected simultaneously by
necessity and by designing powers? The one excludes the other, and we
must--so it appears--take our stand either on one side or the other.
Nevertheless we cannot set aside Von Baer’s proposition without
further examination simply because it is apparently incapable of being
fulfilled, since it contains a truth which should not be overlooked,
even by those who uphold the mechanical theory of nature. It is the
same truth which is also made use of by the philosophical opponents of
this theory, viz. that the universe as a whole cannot be conceived as
having arisen from blind necessity--that the endless harmony revealed
in every nook and corner by all the phenomena of organic and of
inorganic nature cannot possibly be regarded as the work of chance,
but rather as the result of a “vast designed process of development.”
It is also quite correct when, in reply to the supposed objection
that the mechanical theory of nature is not concerned with chances
but with necessities, Von Baer answers that the operations of a
series of necessities which “are not connected together” can only be
termed accidents in their opposing relations. He illustrates this by
instancing a target. If I hit the latter by a well-aimed shot, nobody
would explain this as the result of an accident, but if “a horseman is
riding along a gravelly road past this target, and one of the pebbles
thrown up by the hoof of the galloping horse hits the mark, this would
be termed an accident of extremely rare occurrence. My target was not
the mark for the pebble, therefore the hit was purely accidental,
although the projection of the stone in this precise direction with
the velocity which it had acquired, was sufficiently explained by
the kick given by the horse. But the hit was accidental because the
kick of the galloping horse, although it necessarily projected the
pebble, had no relation at all to my target. For the same reason we
must regard the universe as an immense accident if the forces which
move it are not designedly regulated--the more immense because it is
not a single motion of projection that acts here, but a large number
of heterogeneous powers, _i.e._ a large number of variously acting
necessities which are, as a whole, devoid of purpose, but which
nevertheless accomplish this purpose, not only at any single moment,
but constantly. A truly admirable series of desirable accidents!”[305]
The same idea is expressed, although in a very different manner, by
Von Hartmann, in the concluding chapter of his work already quoted.
He thinks that “design is a necessary and certain consequence of the
mechanical laws of nature.” “Were the mechanism of natural laws not
teleological there would be no mechanically regulated laws, but a weak
chaos of obstinate and capricious powers. Not until the causality of
the laws of inorganic nature had superseded the expression “dead”
nature, and had shown itself as the mainspring of life and of a
conformability to design visible on all sides, did it deserve the
name of mechanical lawfulness; just as a complication of wheels and
machinery made by man, which move in some definite manner with respect
to one another, only acquires the name of a mechanism or of a machine
when the immanent teleology of the combination and of the various
movements of the parts is revealed.”[306]
Against the correctness of the idea underlying these statements
scarcely anything can in my opinion be said. The harmony of the
universe and of that portion of it which we designate organic nature,
cannot be explained by chance, _i.e._ without a common ground for
co-operating necessities; by the side of mere mechanism it is
impossible not to acknowledge a teleological principle--the only
question is, in what manner can we conceive this as acting without
abandoning the purely mechanical conception of nature?
This is obviously effected if, with Von Baer and Von Hartmann, we
permit the metaphysical principle to interrupt the course of the
mechanism of nature, and if we consider both the former and the latter
to work together with equal power. Von Hartmann expressly makes such an
admission under the name of an “internal principle of development,” to
which he attributes such an important share that one cannot understand
why it should have any need for the employment of causal powers, and
why it does not simply do everything itself. Von Baer expresses himself
much less decisively, and even in many places insists upon the purely
mechanical connection of organic natural phenomena; but that with him
also the idea of interruption by a metaphysical principle is present,
is principally shown by his assuming, at least partly, the _per saltum_
development of species. This necessarily involves an actively internal
power of development.
Although I have already brought forward many arguments against the
existence of such a power, and although in refuting it every form of
development by directive powers is at the same time overthrown, it
nevertheless appears to me not to be superfluous in such a deeply
important question to show that a _per saltum_ development, and
especially the so-called heterogeneous generation, is inconceivable,
not only on the ground of the arguments formerly employed against the
phyletic vital force in general, but quite independently of these.
In the first place it must be said that the positive basis of this
hypothesis is insecure. Cases of sudden transformation of the whole
organism with subsequent inheritance are as yet quite unknown. It has
been shown that the occasional transformation of the Axolotl must most
probably be regarded in a different light. Another case, taken for
heterogeneous generation, viz. the budding of twelve-rayed Medusæ in
the gastric cavity of an eight-rayed species, has lately been shown by
Franz Eilhard Schulze[307] to be a kind of parasitism or commensalism.
The buds of the _Cuninæ_ do not spring, as was supposed, from the
_Geryonia_, but are developed from a _Cunina_ egg. But even if we
recall here the cases of alternation of generation and heterogenesis,
this would not be of any value by way of proof; it would only be thus
indicated how one might picture to oneself a sudden transformation.
That in alternation of generation, or generally, in every mode of
cyclical reproduction, we have not to deal with the abandonment of
one type of organization and the transition to some other, is proved
by the continual return to the type of departure--by the cyclical
character of the entire transformation. That two quite heterogeneous
types can belong to one cycle of development is, however, capable
of a far better and more correct explanation than would be given
by the supporters of _per saltum_ development. If we trace cyclical
reproduction to the adaptation of different developmental stages
or generations to deviating conditions of life, we thus not only
explain the exact and often striking agreement between form and mode
of life--we not only bridge over the gap between metamorphosis and
alternation of generation, but we can also understand how, within one
and the same family of Hydrozoa, species can occur with or without
alternation of generation, and further how other species can exist in
which the alternation of generation (the production of free Medusæ) is
limited to the one sex; we can understand in general how one continuous
series of forms may lead from the simple sexual organ of the Polypes
to the independent and free swimming sexual form of the Medusæ, and
how hand in hand with this the simple reproduction becomes gradually
cyclical. It is just these intermediate steps between the two kinds of
reproduction that make quite untenable the idea that the heterogeneous
forms in cyclical propagation arise through so-called “heterogeneous
generation,” _i.e._ through sudden _per saltum_ transformation. It
is excusable if philosophers to whom these facts are strange, or who
have to take the trouble of working them up, should adduce alternation
of generation as an instance of “heterogeneous generation,” but by
naturalists this should be once and for ever abandoned.
All other facts which have hitherto been referred to “heterogeneous
generation” are still less explicable as such, inasmuch as they always
relate to changes in single parts of an organism, such as the sudden
change of fruit or flower in cultivated plants. The notion of _per
saltum_ development, however, demands a total transformation--it
comprises (as Von Hartmann quite correctly and logically admits) the
idea of a _fixed specific type_ which can only be re-modelled _as a
whole_, and cannot become modified piecemeal. It must further be added,
that the observed variations which have arisen abruptly in single parts
are not as a rule inherited:[308] fruit-trees are only propagated by
grafting, _i.e._ by perpetuating the individual, and not by ordinary
reproduction by seeds. Now, if we nowhere see sudden variations of
large amount perpetuated by heredity, whilst we everywhere observe
small variations which can all be inherited, must it not be concluded
that _per saltum_ modification is not the means which Nature
employs in transforming species, but that an accumulation of small
variations takes place, these leading in time to large differences?
Is it logical to reject the latter conclusion because our period of
observation is too brief to enable us to directly follow long series
of accumulations, whilst _per saltum_ variation is admitted, although
unsupported by a single observation? As long as there remains any
prospect of tracing large deviations to the continually observed
phenomenon of small variations, I believe we have no right to resort to
the purely hypothetical explanation afforded by _per saltum_ variations.
But the hypothesis of “heterogeneous generation” is not only without a
basis of facts--it can also be directly shown to be untenable. Since
the operation of an internal power of transformation does not explain
adaptation to the conditions of life, the claims of natural selection
to explain these transformations must be admitted; but the co-operation
of a phyletic vital force and natural selection is inconceivable if we
imagine the modifications to occur _per saltum_.
The supposed “heterogeneous generation” is always illustrated by the
example of alternation of generation. The origination of a new animal
form is thus conceived to take place in the same manner as we now see,
in the cyclical reproduction of the Medusæ, free swimming, bell-shaped
Medusoids, produced from fixed polypites, or _Cercariæ_ from Trematode
worms by internal budding; in brief, it is imagined that one animal
form suddenly gives rise to another widely deviating form by purely
internal causes. Now on this theory it would be an unavoidable
postulate, that by such a process of _per saltum_ development there
arises not merely a new type of some species, but at the same time
individuals capable of living and of persisting under, and fitted to,
given conditions of life. But every naturalist who has attempted to
completely explain the relation between structure and mode of life
knows that even the small differences which separate one species from
another, always comprise a number of minute structural deviations which
are related to well defined conditions of life--he knows that in every
species of animal the whole structure is adapted in the most exact
manner _in every detail_ to special conditions of life. It is not an
exaggeration when I say in every detail, since the so-called “purely
morphological parts” could not be other than they are without causing
changes in other parts which exercise a definite function. I will not
indeed assert that in the most closely related species all the parts
of the body must in some manner differ from one another, if only to a
small extent; it seems to me not improbable, however, that an exact
comparison would very frequently give this result. That animals which
are so widely removed in their morphological relations as Medusæ and
Polypes, or Trematoda and their “nurses,” are differently constructed
in each of their parts can, however, be stated with certainty.
Now if this wide deviation in every part were in itself no obstacle to
the assumption of a designing and re-modelling power, it would become
so by the circumstance that all the parts of the organism must stand in
the most precise relation to the external conditions of life, if the
organism is to be capable of existing--all the parts must be exactly
adapted to certain conditions of life. How can this be brought about
by a transforming force acting spasmodically? Von Hartmann--who, in
spite of his clear perception and widely extended scientific knowledge,
cannot possibly possess a strong conviction of that harmony between
structure and life-conditions prevailing throughout the whole system
of the organism, and which personal research and contemplation are
alone able to give--simply bridges over the difficulty by permitting
natural selection to come to his aid as an “auxiliary principle” of
the re-modelling power. It would not be supposed that naturalists
would resort to the same device--nevertheless those who support the
phyletic force and _per saltum_ development generally invoke natural
selection as the principle which governs adaptation. But when does
this agency come into operation? When by germinal metamorphosis a
new form has arisen, this, from the first moment of its existence,
must be adapted to the new conditions of life or it must perish. No
time is allowed for it to continue in an unadapted state throughout
a series of generations until adaptation is luckily reached through
natural selection. Let us have either natural selection or a phyletic
force--both together are inconceivable. If there exists a phyletic
force, then it must itself bring about adaptation.
It might perhaps be here suggested that the same objection applies to
that process of modification which is effected by small steps, but that
it does so only when the change occurs suddenly. This, however, as I
have already attempted to show, but very rarely takes place; in many
cases (mimicry) the conditions even change in the first place through
the change in form and therefore, as is evident, as gradually as the
latter. It must be the same in all other cases where transformation of
the existing form and not merely extinction of the species concerned
takes place. The transmutation must always keep pace with the change
in the conditions of life, since if the latter change more rapidly the
species could not compete with rival species--it would become extinct.
The abrupt transformation of species implies sudden change in the
conditions of life, since a Medusa does not live like a Polype,
nor a Trematode like its “nurse.” For this reason it is impossible
that natural selection can be an aiding principle of “heterogeneous
generation.” If such abrupt transformation takes place it must produce
the new form instantly equipped for the struggle for existence,
and adapted in all its organs and systems of organs to the special
conditions of its new life. But would not this be “pure magic”? It
is not thereby even taken into consideration that here--as in the
cases of mimicry--time and place must agree. The requirements of a
pre-established harmony (“_prästabilirte Harmonie_”) further demand
that an animal fitted for special conditions of life should only make
its appearance at that precise period of the earth’s history when these
special conditions are all fulfilled, and so forth.
But he who has learnt to perceive the numerous and fine relations
which, in every species of animal, bring the details of structure into
harmony with function, and who keeps in view the impelling power of
these conditions, cannot possibly hold to the idea of a _per saltum_
development of animal forms. If development has taken place, it must
have occurred gradually and by minute steps--in such a manner indeed
that each modification had time to become equilibrated to the other
parts, and in this way a succession of modifications gradually brought
about the total transformation of the organism, and at the same time
secured complete adaptation to new conditions of life.
Not only abrupt modification however, but every transformation is
to be rejected when based upon the interference of a metaphysical
principle of development. Those to whom the arguments already advanced
against such a principle appear insufficient may once more be asked,
how and where should this principle properly interfere? I am of
opinion that one effect can have but one sufficient cause; if this
suffices to produce it, no second cause is required. The hand of a
watch necessarily turns once round in a circle in a given time as soon
as the spring which sets the mechanism in movement is wound up; in an
unwound watch a skilful finger can perhaps give the same movement to
the hand, but it is impossible that the latter can receive both from
the operator and from the spring at _the same time, the same motion_ as
that which it would receive through either of these two powers _alone_.
In the same manner it appears to me that the variations which lead to
transformation cannot be at the same time determined by physical and by
metaphysical causes, but must depend upon either one or the other.
On no side will it be disputed that at least one portion of the
processes of organic life depends upon the mechanical co-operation of
physical forces. How is it conceivable that sudden pauses should occur
in the course of these causal forces, and that a directive power should
be substituted therefor, the latter subsequently making way again for
the physical forces? To me this is as inconceivable as the idea that
lightning is the electric discharge of a thunder-cloud, of which the
formation and electrical tension depends upon causal forces, and of
which the time and place are purely determined by such forces, but that
Jupiter has it nevertheless in his power to direct the lightning flash
according to his will on to the head of the guilty.
Now although I deny the possibility or conceivability of the
contemporaneous co-operation of teleological and of causal forces
in producing any effect, and although I maintain that a purely
mechanical conception of the processes of nature is alone justifiable,
I nevertheless believe that there is no occasion for this reason to
renounce the existence of, or to disown, a directive power; only we
must not imagine this to interfere directly in the mechanism of the
universe, but to be rather behind the latter as the final cause of this
mechanism.
Von Baer himself points this out to us, although he does not follow
up the complete consequences of his arguments. He especially insists
in his book, which abounds in beautiful and grand ideas, that the
notions of necessity (causality) and of purpose by no means necessarily
exclude one another, but rather that they can be connected together in
a certain manner. Thus, the watchmaker attains his end, the watch, by
combining the elastic force of a spring with wheel-work, _i.e._ by
utilizing physical necessities; the farmer accomplishes his purpose,
that of obtaining a crop of corn, by sowing the seed in suitable land,
but the seed must germinate as an absolute necessity when exposed to
the influences of warmth, soil, moisture, &c. Thus, in these instances
a chain of necessities is undoubtedly connected with a teleological
force, the human will; and it directly follows from such cases that
wherever we see an aim or result attained through necessities, the
directive force does not interrupt the course of the series of
necessities which have already commenced, but is active before the
first commencement of these necessities, since it combines and sets the
latter in movement. From the moment when the mechanism of the watch
is combined harmoniously and the spring wound up, it goes without the
further interference of the watchmaker, just as the corn-seed when once
placed in the earth develops into a plant without assistance from the
farmer.
If we apply this argument to the development of the organic world,
those who defend mechanical development will not be compelled to deny a
teleological power, only they would have with Kant[309] to think of the
latter in the only way in which it can be conceived, viz. _as a Final
Cause_.
In the region of inorganic nature nobody any longer doubts the purely
mechanical connection of the phenomena. Sunshine and rain do not now
appear to us to be whims of a deity, but divine natural laws. As the
knowledge of the processes of nature advances, the point where the
divine power designedly interrupts these processes must be removed
further back; or, as the author of the criticism of the philosophy
of the Unconscious[310] expresses it, all advance in the knowledge
of natural processes depends “upon the continual elimination of the
idea of the miraculous.” We now believe that organic nature must be
conceived as mechanical. But does it thereby follow that we must
totally deny a final Universal Cause? Certainly not; it would be a
great delusion if any one were to believe that he had arrived at a
comprehension of the universe by tracing the phenomena of nature to
mechanical principles. He would thereby forget that the assumption
of eternal matter with its eternal laws by no means satisfies our
intellectual need for causality. We require before everything an
explanation of the fact that relationships everywhere exist between the
parts of the universe--that atoms everywhere act upon one another.[311]
He who can content himself with the assumption of matter may do so,
but he will not be able to show that the assumption of a Universal
Cause underlying the laws of nature is erroneous.
It will not be said that there is no advantage in assuming such a
Final Cause, because we cannot conceive it, and indeed cannot so much
as demonstrate it with certainty. It certainly lies beyond our power
of conception, in the obscure region of metaphysics, and all attempts
to approach it have never led to anything but an image or a formula.
Nevertheless there is an advance in knowledge in the assumption of this
Cause which well admits of comparison with those advances which have
been led to by certain results of the new physiology of the senses. We
now know that the images which give us our sense of the external world
are not “actual representations having any degree of resemblance,”[312]
but are only signs for certain qualities of the outer world, which
do not exist as such in the latter, but belong entirely to our
consciousness. Thus we know for certain that the world is not as we
perceive it--that we cannot perceive “things in their essence”--and
that the reality will always remain transcendental to us. But who will
deny that in this knowledge there is a considerable advance, in spite
of its being for the most part of a negative character? But just as we
must assume behind the phenomenal world of our senses an actual world
of the true nature of which we receive only an incomplete knowledge
(_i.e._ a knowledge corresponding only in reality with the relations of
time and space), so behind the co-operating forces of nature which “aim
at a purpose” must we admit a Cause, which is no less inconceivable
in its nature, and of which we can only say one thing with certainty,
viz., that it must be teleological. Just as the former first leads
us to perceive the true value of our sensual impressions, so does
the latter knowledge lead us to foresee the true significance of the
mechanism of the universe.
It is true that in neither case do we learn more than that there is
something present which we do not perceive, but in both instances this
knowledge is of the greatest value. The consciousness that behind
that mechanism of the universe which is alone comprehensible to us
there still lies an incomprehensible teleological Universal Cause,
necessitates quite a different conception of the universe--a conception
absolutely opposed to that of the materialist. Most correctly and
beautifully does Von Baer say that “a purpose cannot be otherwise
conceived by us than as proceeding from a will and consciousness; in
this would the ‘aiming at a purpose,’ which appears to us as reasonable
as it is necessary, have its deepest root.” If we conceive in this
world a divine Universal Power exercising volition as the ultimate
basis of matter and of the natural laws resident therein, we thus
reconcile the apparent contradiction between the mechanical conception
and teleology. In the same way that Von Hartmann, somewhere speaks of
the immanent teleology of a machine, we might speak of the immanent
teleology of the universe, because the single forces of matter are
so exactly adjusted that they must give rise to the projected world,
just as the wheels and levers of a machine bring forth a required
manufactured article. I admit that these are grossly anthropomorphic
ideas. But as mortals can we have any other ideas? Is not the notion
of purpose in itself an equally anthropomorphic one? and is there
any certainty that the idea of causality is less so? Do we know that
causality is unlimited, or that it is universally valid? In the
absence of this knowledge, should it not be permissible to satisfy
as far as we can the craving of the human mind for a spiritual First
Cause of the universe, by speaking of it in terms conceivable to
human understanding? We can take up such a final position and still
be conscious that we thereby form no certain conception, and indeed
come no nearer to the reality. The materialist still makes use of the
notion of “eternity,” and frequently handles it as though it were a
perfectly known quantity. We nevertheless do not seriously believe that
by the expression “eternal matter,” any true idea resulting from human
experience is gained.
If it is asked, however, how that which in ourselves and in the
remainder of the animal world is _intellectual_ and _perceptive_, which
_thinks_ and _wills_, is ascribable to a mechanical process of organic
development--whether the development of the mind can be conceived as
resulting from purely mechanical laws? I answer unhesitatingly in the
affirmative with the pure materialist, although I do not agree with
him as to the manner in which he derives these phenomena from matter,
since thinking and extension are heterogeneous things, and one cannot
be considered as a product of the other. But why should not the ancient
notion of “conscious matter” given out by Maupertuis and Robinet, not
be again entertained, as pointed out in recent times by Fechner?[313]
Would there not thus be found a useful formula for explaining phenomena
hitherto quite incomprehensible?
Von Hartmann in criticizing himself, designates the sensibility of
atoms as an “almost inevitable hypothesis” (p. 62), “inevitable
because if sensibility were not a general and original property of the
constituent elements of matter, it would be absolutely incomprehensible
how through its potentiality and integration that sensibility known
to us as being possessed by the organism could have arisen.” “It is
impossible that from purely external elements devoid of all internality
(_Innerlichkeit_) there should suddenly appear, by a certain mode
of combination, an internality which becomes more and more richly
developed. The more certainly science becomes convinced that in
the sphere of externality (_Äusserlichkeit_) the higher (organic)
phenomena are only results of combination, or are the aggregate
phenomena of the elementary atomic forces, the more surely, when she
once seriously concerns herself with this other question, will she not
fail to be convinced that the sensibility possessed by higher stages
of consciousness can be only combination-results, or the aggregate
phenomena of the elementary sensations of atoms, although these
atomic sensations as such always remain below the level of the higher
combinations of consciousness.” In confusing this double-sided nature
of the objective phenomenon “lies the main error of all materialism
and of all subjective idealism. Just as the attempt of the latter
(subjective idealism) to construct the external phenomena of existence
in space out of functions of internality and their combinations is
impossible, so is the endeavour of the former (materialism) to build up
internal sensation out of any combinations of force acting externally
in space equally impossible.”
I have no intention of going any deeper into these questions. I mention
them only in order to point out that even from this side there appears
to me no obstacle in the way of a purely mechanical conception of the
processes of the universe. The naturalist may be excused if he attempts
to penetrate into the region of philosophy; it arises from the wish to
be able to contribute a little towards the reconciliation of the latest
knowledge of the naturalist with the religious wants of the human
mind--towards the aim striven for by both sides, viz. a satisfactory
and harmonious view of the universe, according with the state of
knowledge of our time.
I believe that I have shown that the theory of selection by no means
leads--as is always assumed--to the denial of a teleological Universal
Cause and to materialism, and I thereby hope that I have cleared the
way for this doctrine, the importance of which it is scarcely possible
to over-estimate. Many, and not the most ill-informed, do not get so
far as to make an unbiassed examination into the facts, because they
are at the outset alarmed by the to them inevitable consequence of the
materialistic conception of the universe. Mechanism and teleology do
not exclude one another, they are rather in mutual agreement. Without
teleology there would be no mechanism, but only a confusion of crude
forces; and without mechanism there would be no teleology, for how
could the latter otherwise effect its purpose?[314]
Von Hartmann correctly says:--“The most complete mechanism conceivable
is likewise the most completely conceivable teleology.” We may thus
represent the phenomenal universe as such a completely conceivable
mechanism. With this conception vanish all apprehensions that the new
views would cause man to lose the best that he possesses--morality and
purely human spiritual culture. He who, with Von Baer, considers the
laws of nature as the “permanent expressions of the will of a creative
principle,” will clearly perceive that a further advance in the
knowledge of these laws need not divert man from the path of increasing
improvement, but must further him in this course--that the knowledge
of truth, whatever may be its purport, cannot possibly be considered
a backward step. Let us take our stand boldly on the ground of new
knowledge, and accept the direct consequences thereof, and we shall
not be obliged to give up either morality or the comforting conviction
of being part of an harmonious world, as a necessary member capable of
development and perfection.
Any other mode of interference by a directive teleological power in
the processes of the universe than by the appointment of the forces
producing them, is however, at least to the naturalist, inadmissible.
We are still far removed from completely understanding the mechanism by
means of which the organic world is evoked--we still find ourselves at
the very beginning of knowledge. We are, however, already convinced
that both the organic and the inorganic worlds are dependent only upon
mechanical forces, for to this conclusion we are led, not only by the
results of investigators who have restricted themselves to limited
provinces, but also by the most general considerations. But although
the force of these arguments may not be acknowledged, and although
one might maintain that the inductional proofs against the existence
of a “phyletic vital force” have been directed only against points of
detail, or have never been completely demonstrated, _i.e._ for all
points, it must nevertheless be conceded, that for the naturalist
the mechanical conception of Nature is the only one possible--that
he is not at all justified in abandoning this view so long as the
interference of teleological forces _in the course_ of the processes
of organic development has not been demonstrated to him. Thus, it will
not be immaterial whether a conception of Nature which to many seems
inevitable is consistent with the idea of universal design, or a final
directive universal principle, since the value which we may attach to
our own lives and aims, essentially depends thereon. The final and main
result of this essay will thus be found in the attempted demonstration
that the mechanical conception of Nature very well admits of being
united with a teleological conception of the Universe.