CHAPTER XII. THE WORLD AND GOD.

The world and nature are marvellous in their being, but they are not

“divine”! The formula “_natura sive deus_” is a monstrous misuse of the

word “_deus_,” if we are to use the words in the sense which history has

given to them. God is the Absolute Being, perfect, wholly independent,

resting in Himself, and necessary; nature is entirely contingent and

dependent, and at every point of it we are impelled to ask “Why?” God is

the immeasurable fulness of Being, nature is indeed diverse in the

manifoldness of her productions, but she is nevertheless limited, and her

possibilities are restricted within narrow limits. God is the

unrestrained, and everlasting omnipotence itself, and the perfect wisdom;

nature is indeed mighty enough in the attainment of her ends, but how

often is she obstructed, how often does she fail to reach them, and how

seldom does she do so perfectly and without mistakes? She shows wisdom,

indeed, cunning in her products, subtlety and daintiness, taste and

beauty, all these often in an overwhelming degree, yet just as often she

brings forth what is meaningless, contradictory and mutually hurtful,

traverses her own lines, and bewilders us by the brutality, the

thoughtlessness, and purposelessness, the crookedness, incompleteness, and

distortedness of her operations. And what is true of the world of external

nature is true in a far greater degree of the world of history. Nature is

not a god, but a demigod, says Aristotle. And on this, Pantheism with its

creed, “_natura sive deus_,” makes shipwreck. The words of this _credo_

are either a mere tautology, and “_deus_” is misused as a new name for

nature; or they are false. It is not possible to transfer to nature and

the world all the great ideas and feelings which the religious mind

cherishes under the name of “God.”

On the other hand, nature is really, as Aristotle said, δαιμονία, that is,

strange, mysterious, and marvellous, indicating God, and pointing, all

naturalism and superficial consideration notwithstanding, as we have seen,

to something outside of and beyond itself. Religion demands no more than

this. It does not insist upon finding a solution for all the riddles of

theoretical world-lore. It is not distressed because the course of nature

often seems to our eyes confused, and to our judgment contradictory and

unintelligible at a hundred places and in a hundred respects. On the

contrary, that this is the case is to religion in another aspect a strong

stimulus and corroboration. “The world is an odd fellow; may God soon make

an end of it,” said Luther, and thus gave a crude but truly religious

parallel to the words of Aristotle, ἡ γἀρ φύσις δαιμονία ἀλλ᾽ οὐ θεία,

(Aristot. “De Divin. in Somn.,” c. ii.). It is part of the very essence of

religion, as we have seen, to read in the pages of nature, insufficiency,

illusion, and perplexities, and to be made thereby impatient and desirous

of penetrating to the true nature of things. Religion does not claim to be

directly deducible out of a consideration of nature; it demands only the

right and freedom to interpret the world in its own way. And for this it

is sufficient that this world affords those hints and suggestions for its

convictions that we have seen it does afford. To form clear ideas in

regard to the actual relations of the infinite to the finite, and of God

to the world, and of what religion calls creation, preservation, and

eternal providence, self-revelation in the world and in history, is hardly

the task of religion at all, but rather pertains to our general

speculative instinct, which can only satisfy itself with the help of

imagination. Attempts of this kind have often been made. They are by no

means valueless, for even if no real knowledge can be gained by this

method, we may perhaps get an analogue of it which will help us to

understand existence and phenomena, and to define our position, as well as

to give at least provisional answers to many pressing questions (such, for

instance, as the problem of theodicy).

If we study the world unprejudiced by the naturalistic interpretation, or

having shaken ourselves free from it, we are most powerfully impressed by

one fundamental phenomenon in all existence: it is the fact of evolution.

It challenges attention and interpretation, and analogies quickly reveal

themselves which give something of the same trend to all such

interpretations. From stage to stage existence advances onwards, from the

world of large masses subject only to the laws of mechanics, to the

delicately complex play of the forces of development in growth and other

vital processes. The nature of the forces is revealed in ever higher

expression, and at the same time in ever more closely connected series of

stages. Even between the inorganic and the organic there is an

intermediate stage—crystal formation—which is no longer entirely of the

one, yet not of the other. And in the organic world evolution reveals

itself most clearly of all; from the crudest and simplest it presses

onwards to the most delicate and complex. In the corporeal as in the

psychical, in the whole as in each of its parts, there are ever higher

stages, sometimes far apart, sometimes close together. However we picture

to ourselves the way in which evolution accomplishes itself in time, we

can scarcely describe it without using such expressions as “nature

advances upwards step by step,” “it presses and strives upwards and

unfolds itself stage by stage.”

And it is with us as it was with Plato; we inform the world with a soul,

with a desire and endeavour which continually expresses itself in higher

and higher forms. And it is with us also as with Fichte; we speak of the

will which, unconscious of itself, pours itself forth in unconscious and

lifeless nature, and then on this foundation strives forward, expressing

its activity in ever higher developments, breaking forth in life,

sensation, and desire, and finally coming to itself in conscious existence

and will. The whole world seems to us a being which wills to become,

presses restlessly forward, and passes from the potential to the actual,

realising itself. And the height of its self-realisation is conscious,

willing life.

This outlook is lofty and significant, it supplies a guiding clue by which

the facts of life and nature can be arranged. The religious outlook, too,

when it wishes to indulge in speculation, can make use of this guiding

thread. It will then say: God established the world as “a will to

existence, to consciousness, to spirit.” He established it, not as

complete, but as becoming. He does not build it as a house, but plants it,

like a flower, in the seed, that it may grow, that it may struggle upwards

stage by stage to fuller existence, aspiring with toil and endeavour

towards the height where, in the image of the Creator, as a free and

reasonable spirit capable of personality, it may realise the aim of its

being. Thus the world is _of_ God, that is, its rudiments came from God,

and it is _to_ God, in the purpose of likeness to God. And it is imbued

with the breath of Godhead which moves in it and impels it onwards, with

the logos of the everlasting Zeus of whom Cleanthes sings, with the spirit

of Jehovah whom Isaiah and the Psalmist praise, and whom the poet of the

Creation figuratively paints; the divine breath is in everything that

lives, from grass to flower, from animal to man. But it is implanted as

becoming. And in regard to this, religion can say of the whole world what

it says of man. For man, too, is not given as a finished product, either

as regards the genus or the individual, but as a rudiment, with his

destiny to work out, in historical becoming, by realising what is inherent

in him. We call this freedom. And an adumbration of such freedom, which is

the aim of self-realisation, would help us to penetrate deeply into the

nature of things. Many riddles and apparent contradictions could be fitted

in with this view of things: the unity of the world, and yet the

gradations; the relationship of all living creatures, the unity of all

psychical life, and yet the uniqueness of the rational spirit; causal

concatenation, yet guidance by means of the highest ideas and purposes;

the tentativeness, illogicalness, and ineffectiveness of nature,

unconsciously pressing forward along uncertain paths, yet the directness

and purposefulness of the main lines of evolution in general. This

God-awakened will to be lies at the roots of the mysteries of development

in all living creatures, of the unconscious purposiveness of instinctive

action, of the gradually ascending development of psychical life and its

organ. Operating in crystals and plants purely as a formative impulse and

“entelechy,” it awakes in the bodies of animals more and more as “soul.”

Then it awakes fully in man, and in him, in an entirely new phase of real

free development, it builds itself up to spirit. It resembles a stream

whose waves flow casually and transiently in animal consciousness, and are

soon withdrawn again, to break forth anew at another place, in the

personal spirit, where they attain to permanent indissoluble form, since

they have now at last attained to self-realisation, and fulfilled the

purpose of all cosmic existence, the reflecting of the eternal personality

in the creature. But it is only in human history that what was prepared

for in natural evolution is completed.

The riddle of theodicy thus becomes easier, for what surrounds us in

nature and history has not come direct from the hand of eternal wisdom,

but is in the first place the product of the developing, striving world,

which only gradually and after many mistakes and failures works out what

is inherent in it as eternal idea and aim. We see and blame its mistakes,

for instance in our own human structure. We see the deficiencies in the

historical course of things. But when we find fault we do not see that

evolution and self-realisation and freedom are more worthy of praise than

ready-made existence incapable of independent action.

This principle of development, wherever it is regarded as “world-soul” or

as “will” or as the “unconscious,” is frequently, through pantheism and

the doctrine of immanence, made equivalent with the object of religion,

with God. This is an impossible undertaking. We cannot worship what only

reaches its full development in ourselves. But that we _can_ worship, and

that it is only in the feeling of complete dependence that the full depth

of what is developing within us to conscious life reveals itself, proves

better than anything else that God is above all “World-will.” It was more

than allegory when Plato in Timæus set the “eternal father and creator of

the world” above all soul and psyche. And it was religion that broke

through when Fichte in his little book, “Anweisung zum seeligen Leben,”

set being before becoming, and God above the creatures struggling towards

self-realisation. Religion knows in advance that this is so. And calm

reflection confirms it. All that we have already learnt of the dependence,

conditionedness, and contingent nature of the world is equally true of a

world “evolving itself” out of its potentiality, of a will to existence,

and of an unconscious realising itself. No flower can grow and develop

without being first implicit in the seed. Nothing can attain to

“actuality,” to realisation, that was not potentially implied in the

beginning. But who originated the seed of the world-flower? Who enclosed

within it the “tendencies,” the “rudiments” which realise themselves in

evolution? Invariably “the actual is before the potential” and Being

before Becoming. A world could only become if it were called to become by

an everlasting Being. God planting the world-flower that it might radiate

forth in its blossoms His own image and likeness, is an allegory which may

well symbolise for religion the relation between God and the world. And

thus it is possible to draw the outline of a religious outlook on the

world, into which the results of world-lore could well be fitted. This

frame was constructed by Plato on the basis of a religious study of

things, and after Plato it was first definitely outlined in Fichte’s too

much forgotten but unforgettable books “Bestimmung des Menschen” and

“Anweisung zum seeligen Leben,” and it is thus a new creation of the great

German idealism and its mighty faith. And it is not easy to see why it

should be abandoned, why we should give it up in favour of an irreligious,

semi-naturalistic outlook on the world.

One thing, however, must be kept constantly in mind: even such an

interpretation of the world as this is poetry, not knowledge. There is a

poetry of the will to live, of the unconscious, which is struggling

towards existence, but there is no philosophy. There are only analogies

and hints of what goes on at the foundations of the world. In particular,

the unconscious creative impulse in all living organisms, this “will”

towards form, its relationship with instinct and the relationship of

instinct to conscious psyche, afford us a step-ladder of illustrations,

and an illustration of the step-ladder of the “will towards existence,”

which invite us to overstep the bounds of our knowledge, and indulge in

our imagination. We can say nothing of pre-conscious consciousness and

will, we can at best only make guesses about them. We cannot think

definitely of a general world-will, which wills and aspires in individual

beings; we cannot picture to ourselves the emergence of the individual

“souls” of animals and man from a universal psyche. Imagination plays a

larger part here than clear thinking. And for our present purpose it must

be clearly borne in mind that religion does not require any speculative

construction of theories of the world. But “you shall know that it is your

imagination which creates the world for you.”(108) And if a speculative

construction be desired, it will always be most easily attained along

these lines, and will in this way come nearest to our modern knowledge of

nature. We must remember, too, that the objections which may be urged

against this form of speculation are equally applicable against any other.

For the origin of the individual psyche, the graduated series of its

forms, the development of one after the other, and of that of the child

from that of its parents, are riddles which cannot be solved by any

speculative thinking. Monadology, theories of the pre-existence of the

soul, creationism, or the current traducianism—which to-day, with its

partly or wholly materialistic basis, is just as naïve as the older—all

reveal equal darkness. But the speculation we have hinted at, if it gives

no explanation, at least supplies a framework for many questions which

attract us, and do so even from the point of view of religion: for

instance the collective, diffuse, and almost divisible nature of

consciousness in the lower stages, its increasing and ever more strict

centralisation, the natural relationship of the psychical in man to the

psychical in general, and yet its incommensurability and superiority to

all the world.

But let us once more turn from all the poetical and imaginative

illustrations of the relation of God to the world, which can at best be

only provisional, and only applicable at certain points, to the more

general aspect of the problem. Religion itself consists in this: believing

and experiencing that in time the Eternal, in the finite the Infinite, in

the world God is working, revealing Himself, and that in Him lies the

reason and cause of all being. For this it has names like creation,

providence, self-revelation of God in the world, and it lives by the

mysteries which are indicated under these names. The mysteries themselves

it recognises in vague or naïve forms of conception long before it

attempts any definite formulation. If dogmatics begin with the latter,

some form or other of the stiff and wooden doctrines of _concursus_, of

_influxus ordinarius_ and _extraordinarius_ usually develops with many

other subtleties, which are nothing more than attempts to formulate the

divine influence in finite terms, and to think of it as a force along with

other forces. Two series of causes are usually distinguished; the system

of causes and effects within the world, according to which everything

natural takes place, the “_causæ secundariæ_”; and in addition to these

the divine causality co-operating and influencing the others, ordering

them with gentle and delicate pressure, and guiding them towards their

true end, and which may also reveal itself as “_extraordinaria_” in

miracles and signs. This double operation is regarded as giving rise to

all phenomena, and in it consists guidance, dispensation, providence, and

natural revelation.

This kind of conception is extremely primitive, and is unfavourable to

religion itself, for in it mystery is done away with and arranged

according to rubric, and everything has become quite “simple.” Moreover,

this doctrine has a necessary tendency to turn into the dreaded “Deism.”

According to the deistic view, God made the world in the beginning, and

set the system of natural causes in motion, in such a way that no farther

assistance was given, and everything went on of itself. This theory is

incredibly profane, and strikes God out of the world, and nature, and

history at a single stroke, substituting for Him the course of a

well-arranged system of clockwork. But the former theory is a very

unsatisfactory and doubtful makeshift as compared with that of deism, for

it is impossible to see why, if God arranged these _causæ secundariæ_, He

should have made them so weak and ineffective that they need all these

ingenious _concursus_, _influxus_, _determinationes_, _gubernationes_, and

the like. Both theories are crude fabrications of the dogmatists, and they

have nothing left in them of the piety they were intended to protect, nor

do they become any better in this respect, however many attempts are made

to define them. Religion possesses, without the aid of any stilted and

artificial theories, all the things we have named above, and especially

and most directly the last of them, namely, the experience of the

revelation and communication of the Divine in the great developments and

movements of spiritual and religious history. And it finds its

corroboration and justification and freedom not by way of dogmatics but of

criticism. It is impossible to distinguish artificially two sets of

causes, and to give to the world what is alleged to be of the world, and

to God what is alleged to be of God. But it is permissible to point to the

insufficiency of our causal study in general, and to the limits of our

knowledge. Even when we have established it as a fact that all phenomena

are linked together in a chain of causes we are still far from having

discovered how things actually come to pass. Every qualitative effect and

change is entirely hidden from us as far as the cause of its coming about

and its real and inner nature are concerned. Every effect which in kind or

quantity goes beyond its cause (and we cannot make anything of the domain

of living forms, of the psychical and of history without these), shows us

that we are still only at the surface. Indeed, even mechanical action,

often alleged to be entirely intelligible, such as the transference or

transformation of energy, is, as we have seen, a complete riddle. In

addition, all causality runs its course in time, and therefore partakes of

all the defects and limitations of our views of time. And finally we are

guided by the Kantian antinomy regarding the conditions of what is

“given.” It destroys the charm of the “purely causal” point of view by

showing that this in itself cannot be made complete and is therefore

contradictory. Moreover, in the phenomena of life, and in the fact that

consciousness and will control our corporeal processes, and yet can hardly

be thought of as a cause “co-operating” with other causes, we found an

analogy, if a weak and obscure one, of the relation that a divine

teleology and governing of the world may bear to mundane phenomena. Thus

mystery remains in all its strength and is not replaced by the surrogate

of a too simple and shallow dogmatic theory. In confessing mystery and

resting content with it we are justified by reflection on the nature and

antinomy of our knowledge.

All this is true also of what religion means by creation. In the feeling

of complete humility, in its experience of absolute dependence and

conditionedness, the creature becomes conscious of itself as a creature,

and experiences with full clearness what it means to be a “creature” and

“created.” The dogmatic theory is here again only a surrogate of mystery.

And again critical self-reflection proves a better guide than any theory

of creation, which is quite in its place as a means of expression in

religious discourse and poetry, but is quite insufficient as true

knowledge. That we must but cannot think of this world either as beginning

or as not-beginning is the analogue in knowledge of what religion

experiences in mystery; and that this contingent and conditioned world is

founded in everlasting, necessary, true Being, is the analogue of what

religion possesses and knows through devout feeling, more directly and

clearly than by any thinking, of the relations of God to the world.

FOOTNOTES

1 This has been urged often enough even by scientific investigators.

In such cases they have frequently been reproached for dragging

miracles into nature when they call a halt in face of the

“underivable” and the “mysterious.” This is a complete

misunderstanding. With miracles and with the supernatural in the

historical sense of these words, this mode of regarding nature has

nothing whatever to do. It would be much more reasonable to maintain

the converse: that there exists between supernatural ideas and the

belief in the absolute explicability and rationalisation of nature a

peculiar mutual relation and attraction. For, if we think out the

relation clearly, we must see that all real and consistent belief in

miracles demands as its most effective background the clearest

possible explicability of nature. It pictures to itself two natures,

so to speak: nature and supernature, and the latter of these

interpolates itself into the former in the form of sudden and

occasional interruptions; that is to say, as miracles. The purpose

of miracles is to be recognised as such, as events absolutely

different from the ordinary course of happening. And they are most

likely thus to be recognised when nature itself is translucent and

mathematical. Thus we find that supernaturalism quite readily

accepts, and even insists upon a rationalistic explanation of

nature. But this is quite incorrect. Nature is not so thoroughly

rationalised and calculable as such a point of view would have us

believe.

The really religious element in belief in miracles is that it, too,

in its own way, is seeking after mystery, dependence and providence.

It fails because it naïvely seeks for these in isolated and

exceptional acts, which have no analogy to other phenomena. It

regards these as arbitrary acts, and does so because it overlooks or

underestimates the fact that they have to be reckoned with

throughout the whole of nature.

2 Not even after the scholastic manner of regarding eternity as a

“nunc stans,” a stationary now, an everlasting present. “Present” is

a moment in our own time, and an “everlasting” present is nonsense.

3 “Reden über die Religion, an die Gebildeten unter ihren Verächtern.”

Neu herausgegeben von R. Otto. 1906.

4 Kgl. Preuss. Akademie der Wissenschaften, 1876.

5 Some of these subsidiary factors are difficult to harmonise with the

main principle of selection; they endanger it or it endangers them,

as we shall see when we consider the controversies within the

Darwinian camp.

6 H. Friedmann, “Die Konvergenz der Organismen,” Berlin, 1904.

7 It is somewhat confusing that even Weismann in his most recent work

professes to give “Lectures on the Theory of Descent,” and in

reality only assumes it, concerning himself with the Darwinian

theory in the strict sense. The English translation is more

correctly entitled “The Evolution Theory.”

_ 8 Cf._ Wagner, “Zur gegenwärtigen Lage des Darwinismus.” “Die

Umschau,” January, 1900.

9 Eugen Dubois (Military Surgeon of the Dutch Army), “Pithecanthropus

erectus, a man-like transition-form from Java.” Batavia. 1904.

10 H. Friedenthal. “Ueber einen experimentellen Nachweis von

Blutsverwandtschaft.” Archiv. f. Anatomie und Physiologie, 1900, p.

404.

11 Jena, 1904. Trans. “The Evolution Theory,” Arnold. London 1904.

12 A defence of this very confident Darwinian point of view, for the

benefit of non-scientific readers, will be found in the recent

“Gemeinverständlichen darwinistischen Vorträgen und Abhandlungen,”

by Plate, Simroth, Schmidt, and others. See also Ziegler’s “Ueber

den derzcitigen Stand der Descendenzlehre in der Zoologie.”

13 “Rassenbildung und Erblichkeit,” Festschrift für Bastian, p. 9.

14 “Rassenbildung und Erblichkeit,” Festschrift für Bastian, p. 6.

15 “Sammlung gemeinverständl. Vorträge, hrsg. v. Virchow und

Holtzendorf,” Heft 96. “Menschen und Affenschädel,” Berlin, 1870.

16 “Zeitschrift für Ethnologie,” 1882, p. 276.

17 “Verh. Berlin anthropolog. Gesellschaft iv.” (1872), p. 132. It

does, however, appear strange to the lay mind that it should have

been only the pathological subjects of prehistoric times that had

their remains preserved for our modern study.

_ 18 Cf._ “Zeitschrift für Ethnologie,” 1895, pp. 78, 735.

_ 19 Cf._ “Rassenbildung und Erblichkeit.” Festschrift für Bastian,

1895.

20 See also “Descendenz und Pathologie.” Arch. f. path. Anat. a.

Physiol., 1886; “Transformation und Abstammung.” Berliner Klin.

Wochenschrift, 1893.

21 First edition, Leipzig, 1887. A second edition and an English

translation have since been published. See especially the discussion

of the origin and history of species in the second volume.

22 See English translation of Kerner’s Plant Life.

_ 23 Cf._ a criticism of the book from the Darwinian point of view by

Plate in Biologisches Centralblatt, 1901.

24 That this points only to the fact of evolution, and not necessarily

to actual descent, will be seen later on.

25 First edition, 1899; now in a second edition.

26 “Genealogie der Urzellen als Lösung des Descendenzproblems” (1872),

and “Der Darwinismus und die Naturforschung Newtons und Cuviers”

(1874-1877).

27 “Eine kritische Darstellung der modernen Entwicklungslehre,” Jena,

1892.

28 Compare Darwin’s derivation of fishes from Tunicata because of the

notochord which occurs in the tunicate larvæ.

29 See Hertwig’s “Biological Problem of To-day.” London 1896.

30 The justice of this prophecy has been meanwhile illustrated by the

recent work of H. Friedmann, “Die Konvergenz der Organismen,”

Berlin, 1904.

31 If we wish to, we can even read the “biogenetic law” in Dante. See

“Purgatory,” p. 26, where the embryo attains successively to the

plant, animal and human stages:

“Anima fatta la virtute attiva,

Qual d’una _pianta_....

Come fungo marino ...

Ma come _d’animal_ divenga _fante_.”

This is, of course, nothing else than Aristotle’s theory of

evolution, done into terzarima, and corrected by St. Thomas.

For the latest application of these views, even in relation to the

“biogenetic fundamental law,” see the finely finished

“Morpho-genetic Studies” of T. Garbowski (Jena, 1903): “The greater

part of what is usually referred to the so-called fundamental

biogenetic law depends on illusion, since all things undeveloped or

imperfect must bear a greater or less resemblance one to another.”

_ 32 I.e._, The occurrence of saltatory, transilient, or discontinuous

variations or mutations.

_ 33 I.e._, The emergence of a distinctively new pattern of

organisation.

34 See H. G. Bronn’s Appendix to his translation of Darwin’s “Origin of

Species.” First German edition.

35 Finally and comprehensively in the two volumes we have already

mentioned, “Vorträge über die Deszendenztheorie,” Jena, 1902 (Eng.

trans., London, 1904). “Natural selection depends essentially upon

the cumulative augmentation of the most minute useful variations in

the direction of their utility; only the useful is developed and

increased, and great effects are brought about slowly through the

summing up of many very minute steps.... But the philosophical

significance of natural selection lies in the fact that it shows us

how to explain the origin of useful, well-adapted structures purely

by mechanical factors, and without having to fall back upon a

directive principle.”

36 If it were not white it would be observed by the seals, which would

thus avoid being devoured by it. See Weismann, I., p. 70. (English

edition, p. 65.)

37 It is almost comical when Weismann, the champion of the purely

naturalistic outlook, occasionally forgets his rôle altogether, and

puts in a word for “chance,” or attempts to soften absolute

predetermination. For if even a single wolf should destroy a stag

“by chance,” or if a single “id” should “chance” to grow in a manner

slightly different from that laid down for it by the compelling

force of preceding and accompanying circumstances, the whole

Darwinian edifice would be labour lost.

38 See Darwin, “... chance variations. Unless such occur, natural

selection can do nothing.”

39 “Die Darwinsehe Theorie. Gemeinverständliche Vorlesungen über die

Naturphilosophie der Gegenwart gehalten vor Studierenden aller

Fakultäten,” Leipzig, 1903. This book is the continuation of the

author’s “Deszendenztheorie.”

40 Fleischmann’s book compares favourably with those of other

naturalists, in that he does not contrast “Moses” and natural

science, as is customary, but has a deeper knowledge of the modern

view of Genesis I. than is usually found among naturalists, whether

of the “positive” or “negative” standpoint.

41 See also Wolff.

42 See C.C. Coe, “Nature versus Natural Selection,” London, 1895.

Perhaps the most comprehensive, many-sided, critical analysis of the

theory of natural selection. See also Herbert Spencer, “The

Inadequacy of Natural Selection,” 1893.

43 Leipzig, 1888, 1897, 1901. In part translated as “Organic

Evolution.” We are here mainly concerned with Vols. I. and III.

Later on we shall have to discuss Vol. II.

44 Wien, 1899.

45 See Wettstein, “Neolamarckism,” Jena, 1902. See also Demoor,

Massart, Vandervelde, “L’Evolution régressive en Biologie et

Sociologie,” Paris, 1897. Bibliothèque scientific internationale,

vol. lxxxv. This work is on the Lamarckian basis. It is original in

applying Lamarckian principles to a theory of society.

46 Two vols., Leipzig, 1901 and 1902.

47 It remains open to question whether Eimer’s explanation is

sufficient in all cases, even those of the exaggeratedly deceptive

copies of leaves or bark, or the colour of the environment. It is

certainly not the sorry explanation in terms of “Variation and

Selection,” but that of a spontaneous imitation of the surroundings,

that forces itself irresistibly upon us in this connection.

48 Jena, 1892 and 1895.

49 See Reinke, “Einleitung in die theoretische Biologie,” 1901,

especially pp. 463 onwards on “Phylogenetisches Bildungspotential.”

von Wettstein (On direct adaptation), “Neolamarkismus,” Jena, 1902.

_Cf._ “Wissensch-Beiträge zum 15 Jahresberichte (1902) der Philos.

Gesellschaft an der Universität zu Wien: Vorträge und Besprechungen

über die Krisis der Darwinismus.” M. Kassowitz, “Allgemeine

Biologie,” I. and II., 1899. O. Hertwig, “Entwicklung der Biologie

im 19. Jahrhundert.” Wiesner, “Elemente der wissenschaftlichen

Botanik.” (_cf._ especially III. “Biologie der Pflanzen”), and on p.

288 the summary of propositions which are very similar to those

formulated later by Korschinsky. (“Auf Grund des den Organismen

innewohnenden Vervollkommnungstriebes.”)

50 See the particularly beautiful and suggestive experiments of

Haberlandt: “Experimentelle Hervorrufung eines neuen Organs.” In

“Festschrift für Schwendener,” Berlin Borntraeger, 1899.

51 See “Nature,” 1891, p. 441

52 See “Nature,” 1891, p. 441.

53 The variation-increment of the selection theory ought to be a

differential. But in many cases it is not so. As for instance in

symmetrical correlated variation, &c. In the struggle for existence

it is usually not advantages of organisation which are decisive, but

the chance advantages of situation, though these have no “selective”

influence. The case of the tapeworm is illustrative.

His work, “Die organischen Regulationen, Vorbereitungen zu einer

Theorie des Lebens,” 1901, is a systematic survey of illustrations

of the “autonomy” of vital processes. In his “Analytischen Theorie

der organischen Entwicklung,” Leipzig, 1894, his special biological

(“ontogenetic”) views are still in process of development. But even

here his sharp rejection of Darwinism is complete (see VI., Par. 3,

on “the absurd assumption of a contingent character of

morphogenesis”). It is not for nothing that the book is dedicated to

Wigand and C. F. von Baer. He says that in regard to development we

must “picture to ourselves external agents acting as stimuli and

achieving transformations which have the character, not analysable

as to its causes, of being adapted to their end, that is, capable of

life.” Incomplete, but very instructive too, are his discussions on

the causal and the teleological outlook, the necessity for both, and

the impossibility of eliminating the latter from the study of

nature. In a series of subsequent works, Driesch has defined and

strengthened this position, finally reaching the declaration:

“Darwin belongs to history, just like that other curiosity of our

century, the Hegelian philosophy. Both are variations on the theme,

‘How to lead a whole generation by the nose!’ ” (“Biolog.

Zentralbl.” 1896, p. 16). We are concerned with Driesch more

particularly in Chapter IX.

54 See Driesch “Kritisches und Polemisches,” Biol. Zentrabl., 1902, p.

187, Note 2.

55 “Naturwissenschaftliche Wochenschrift,” xiv., p. 273.

56 See § 70 and subsequent sections. Take, for instance, the

sentences:—“Every production of material things and of their forms

must be interpreted as possible in terms of purely mechanical laws,”

and the contrast: “Some products of material nature cannot be

interpreted as possible in terms of purely mechanical laws.”

57 To Aristotle the “Soul” (ψυχὴ ϕυτική Psyche, phytike) was in the

first place a purely biological principle. But by means of his

elastic formula of Potentiality and Actuality he was able to make

the transition to the psychological with apparent ease. The

biological is to him in “potentiality” what sensation, impulse,

imagination are in “realisation.” But the biological and the

psychological are not related to one another as stages. Growth,

form, development, &c., cannot be carried over through any

“actualisatio” into sensation, consciousness and the like.

An essentially different question is, whether the biological may not

be not indeed derivable from the psychological—that would be the

same mistake—but dependent on, and conditioned by it, just as we

regard the voluntary moving and directing of the body as dependent

on it. An imaginative interpretation of the world will always take

this course.

58 Of course all this still gives us no ground for drawing conclusions

as to the correctness of the mechanistic theory, but only affords a

reason for its power of persistence. Indeed, the very fact that, in

investigating the problem of life, instinct directs us towards

mechanical interpretations, should give added weight to the other

fact, that among the ranks of naturalists themselves there

constantly arise doubts and criticisms of the adequacy of this mode

of interpretation, and that many of them go over more or less

completely to the vitalistic point of view.

59 H. Helmholtz, “Ueber die Erhaltung der Kraft, eine physikalische

Abhandlung,” Berlin, 1847.

60 Max Verworn, “Die Biogenhypothese,” Jena, 1903. _Cf._ criticisms by

Czapek in the “Botanische Zeitung,” No. 2, 1903, and by Loeb in the

“Biologisches Zentralblatt,” 1902.

61 Berlin, 1900. Edited by R. du Bois-Reymond.

62 Bütschli, “Untersuchungen über microscopische Schäume und das

Protoplasma,” Leipzig, 1892. _Cf._ Berthold, “Studien zur

Protoplasmamechanik.”

63 Rhumbler, “Zur Mechanik des Gastrulationvorganges ...” in “Archiv.

f. Entwicklungsmechanik,” Bd. 14.

64 “Bewegung der lebendigen Substanz.” Jena, 1892.

65 A short, very attractive description of these mechanical methods,

and one which appeals particularly to us laymen because of its

excellent illustrations, is Dreyer’s “Ziele und Wege biologischer

Forschung” (Jena, 1892), especially the first part, “Die

Flüssigkeitsmechanik als eine Grundlage der organischen Form- und

Gerüst-Bildung.” The astonishing and fascinating forms of

Radiolarian frameworks and “skeletons” (the artistic appreciation of

which was made possible to a wider public by Haeckel’s “Kunstformen

der Natur”) are here made the subject of mechanical explanations,

which are certainly in a high degree plausible.

_ 66 Cf._ Roux, “Archiv. fur Entwicklungsmechanik.” The name

sufficiently indicates the scope.

67 For a discussion of the difficulties and impossibilities of this

theory see page 148 above.

68 “Preformation oder Epigenesis?” Outlines of a theory of the

development of organisms. Jena, 1894. (Part I. of “Zeit- und

Streit-fragen der Biologie.”) Translated by P. Chalmers Mitchell,

“The Biological Problem of To-day.”

69 In his earlier period. Later he rejects both preformation and

epigenesis, as mechanical distortions of vital processes.

70 See also Lotze’s interesting article “Instinct” in the same work.

71 Part II. of his “Zeit- und Streit-fragen der Biologie.”

72 Second Edition, 1902.

73 In Vol. II. p. 139. 1898.

74 “General Physiology.” Translated by Lee. London. 1899. P. 170.

75 As a remarkable instance and corroboration of this, we may refer to

the ever-recurring, instinctive antipathy of deeply religious

temperaments, from Augustine to Luther and Schleiermacher, to the

Aristotelian mood and its conception of the world, and their

sympathy with Plato’s (mostly and especially in their “Platonised”

expressions). The clear-cut, luminous, conception of the world which

expresses everything in terms of commensurable concepts is

thoroughly Aristotelian. But it would be difficult to find a place

in it for the peculiar element which lies at the root of all true

devotional feeling, and which makes faith something more than the

highest “reverence, love and trust.”

76 “Arch. für pathol. Anatomie und Physiologie,” Bd. VIII. 1855.

77 Vol. IX., 1856.

78 The same is true even of crystals, “_omne crystallum e crystallo_.”

_ 79 Cf._ “Ueber die Aufgabe der Naturwissenschaft,” Jena, 1876.

“Naturwissenschaftliche Tatsachen und Probleme.” “Physiologie und

Entwicklungslehre,” 1886, in the collection of the “Allgemeiner

Vereins für Deutsche Literatur.” Also in the same collection, “Aus

Natur- und Menschen-leben.”

80 These ideas are not fully worked out, and they are disguised in

poetic form—for instance, when even the play of flames is compared

to vital processes. But if they be stripped of their poetic garb,

they lead to the same conclusions to which one is always led when

one approaches the problem unprejudiced by naturalistic or

anthropomorphic preconceptions of the relation of the infinite to

the finite, or the divine to the natural. If we exclude the

materialistic or semi-materialistic position which regards

teleological phenomena, vital processes, and even states of

sensation and consciousness as the function of a “substance” or of

matter, we can quite well speak of them as general “cosmo-organic”

functions of universal being, meaning that they occur of necessity

wherever the proper conditions exist. According to the doctrine of

potentiality and actuality, this is to say that all possible stages

of the higher and highest phenomena are _semper et ubique_

potentially present in universal being, and that they become actual

wherever the physical processes are far enough advanced to afford

the necessary conditions.

Preyer’s ideas have been revived of late, especially in the romantic

form, as, for instance, in Willy Pastor’s “Lebensgeschichte der

Erde” (“Leben und Wissen,” Vol. I., Leipzig, 1903). And in certain

circles, characterised by a simultaneous veneration for and

combination of modern natural science—Haeckel, Romanticism, Novalis

and other antitheses—Fechner appears to have come to life again. The

type of this group is W. Bölsche. Naturally enough, Pastor has

turned his attention also to the recent views of Schroen in regard

to crystallisation. The fact, _omne crystallum e crystallo_, like

the corresponding fact, _omne vivum e vivo_, was long a barrier

against mechanistic derivation. But Schroen draws a parallel between

crystallisation and organic processes, so that the alleged clearness

and obviousness of the inorganic can no longer be carried over—in

the old fashion—into the realm of life, but, conversely, the mystery

of life must be extended downwards, and continued into the

inorganic.

81 Worthy of note and much cited is a somewhat indefinite essay on

“Neovitalism,” by the Wurzburg pathologist, E. von Rindfleisch (in

“Deutsche Medizinische Wochensehrift,” 1895, No. 38).

82 Already given in detail in his “Lehrbuch der phys. und pathol.

Chemie” (Second Edition, 1889), in the first chapter, “Vitalism and

Mechanism.” In the meantime a fifth revised and enlarged edition of

Bunge’s book has appeared as a “Lehrbuch der Physiologie des

Menschen” (Leipzig, 1901), The relevant early essays appear here

again under the title “Idealism and Mechanism.” The arguments are

the same. It is often supposed that it is merely a question of time,

and that in the long run we must succeed in finding proofs that the

whole process of life is only a complex process of movement; but the

history of physiology shows that the contrary is the case. All the

processes which can be explained mechanically are those which are

not vital phenomena at all. It is in activity that the riddle of

life lies. The solution of this riddle is looked for, more decidedly

than before but still somewhat vaguely, in the “idealism” of

self-consciousness and its implications, “_Physiologus nemo nisi

psychologus_.” These views have been also stated in a separate

lecture: G. Bunge, “Vitalismus und Mechanismus,” (Leipzig, 1886).

83 “Allgemeine Biologie” (2 vols.), Vienna, 1899.

84 Jena, 1903.

_ 85 Cf._ especially Verworn’s example of the manufacture of sulphuric

acid. See what we have previously said on the “second line” of

mechanistic theory, along which Neumeister’s thought mainly moves.

See especially p. 198. As regards the “fifth line,” the problem of

the development of form in its present phase, there is an

instructive short essay by Fr. Merkel (Nachrichten der K.

Gesellschaft der Wissenschaften Göttingen. Geschäftl. Mitt. 1897,

Heft 2)—“Welche Kräfte wirken gestaltend auf den Körper der Menschen

und Tiere?” This essay avoids, obviously intentionally, the

shibboleths of controversy. The mechanical point of view and the

play with mechanical analogies and models are abruptly dismissed.

“If things, which were in themselves susceptible of mechanical

explanations, occur in the absence of the mechanical antecedent

conditions, then we must seek for other forces to enable us to

understand them.” And quite calmly a return is made to the old,

simple conception of a “regulative” and a “formative force,”

inherent as a capacity _sui generis_ within the “energids,” the

really living parts of the cell. The cell-energid carries within it

the “pattern” of the organisation, and the partial or perfect

“capacity” (“Fertigkeit”) for producing and reproducing the whole

organism. But these two forces “make use of” the physico-chemical

forces as tools to work out details. So to describe the state of the

case is not of course a solution of the problem; it is only a

figurative formulation of it. But that, at the present day, we can

and must return to doing this if we are to describe things simply

and as they actually occur, is precisely what is most instructive in

the matter.

86 “Beiträge zur Kritik der Darwinschen Lehre,” which was first

published in the “Biologisches Zentralblatt,” 1898.

87 Leipzig, 1892.

88 Before Wigand’s larger works there had appeared F. Delpino:

“Applicazione della Teoria Darwinia ai Fiori ed agli Insetti

Visitatori dei Fiori” (Bull. della Societa Entomologica Ital.,

Florence 1870). He says: “Un principio intrinsico, reagente, finchè

dura la vita, contro le influenze estrinseche ossia contro gli

agenti chimici e fisici.”

89 “Elemente der Wissenschaftlichen Botanik. Biologie der Pflanzen.”

1889.

90 “Lehrbuch der Biologie der Pflanzen.” Stuttgart, 1895.

_ 91 Cf._ Cohn, “Beiträge zur Biologie der Pflanzen,” vii. 407, See

especially the concluding chapter, “Einiges über Functionen der

einzelnen Zellorgane.” From Zoology we may cite E. Teichmann’s

investigation, “Ueber die Beziehung zwischen Astrosphären und

Furchen.” “Experimentelle Untersuchungen am Seeigelei” (“Archiv. f.

Entw. Mech.” xvi. 2, 1903). This paper contains no references to

“psychical phenomena,” “power,” or “will,” and we cannot but approve

of this in technical research. But it is pointed out that the

mechanistic interpretation of the detailed processes of development

has definite limitations, and we are referred to “fundamental

characters of living matter which we must take for granted.”

This is even more decidedly the case in Tad. Garbowski’s beautiful

“Morphogenetische Studien, als Beitrag zur Methodologie zoologischer

Forschung.” These belong to the line of thought followed by Driesch

and Wolff, who are both frequently and approvingly quoted, and they

afford an excellent instance of that mood of dissatisfaction with

and protest against the “dogmas” of descent, selection and

phylogeny, which is observable in many quarters among the younger

generation of investigators. Garbowski vigorously combats Haeckel’s

theories of development, especially “the fundamental biogenetic law,

and the Gastræa theory.” He criticises “mechanistic” interpretations

of the development of the embryo, which “treat the living being

morphologically, as if the matter were one of vesicles, cylinders

and plates, and not of vital units”: and he does not look with

favour on “artificial amoebæ,” which can move, creep, and do

everything except live. The ideal of biology is of course always a

science with laws and equations, but the key to these will not be

found in mechanics. Garbowski’s studies may be highly recommended as

giving a sharp and vivid impression of the modern anti-mechanistic

tendencies observable even in technical research.

92 Trans. by Levinsohn. “Beilage zur Allgemeinen Zeitung,” Munich,

1898, No. 166.

93 Bütschli, _op. cit._, p. 200.

94 “The Monist,” 1899, p. 179.

_ 95 Cf._ “Entwicklung der Biologie in 19. Jahrhundert” (“Naturforscher

Versammlung,” 1900), and “Zeit- und Streit-fragen der Biologie,”

1894-7, especially Part II., “Mechanik und Zoologie.”

96 “Die Organismen und ihr Ursprung,” published in “Nord und Süd,”

xviii., p. 201 _seq._—“Die Welt als Tat,” Berlin 1899, since then in

second edition.—“Einleitung in die theoretische Biologie,” 1901.—And

“Der Ursprung des Lebens auf der Erde,” in the “Türmer-Jahrbuch,”

1903.

_ 97 Cf._, the discussion by A. Drews in the “Preuss. Jahrbuch,”

October, 1902, p. 101, a review of Reinke’s “Einleitung in die

theoretische Biologie.”

98 Of all the bad Greek zoology has produced, “Ontogenesis” is probably

the worst. The Becoming of the Being! The word is used in contrast

to Phylogenesis, the becoming of the race or of the species, and it

denotes the development of the individual.

_ 99 Cf._ p. 130. Excellent observations on “purpose.” If two or more

chains of causes meet, we call it “chance;” if they do so constantly

and in a typical manner, we call it “purpose.”

100 “Biolog. Centralbl.,” 1896, p. 363.

101 “Die Lokalisation (= spatial determination) morphogenetischer

Vorgänge, ein Beweis vitalistischen Geschehens,” 1899 (in “Archiv.

f. Entw.-Mechanik,” viii., 1, and separately published), and “Die

organischen Regulationen: Vorbereitungen zu einer Theorie des

Lebens,” Leipzig, 1901. Also “Die ‘Seele’ als elementarer

Natur-factor,” (studies on the movements of organisms), Leipzig,

1903. He gives a general review of his own evolution in the

“Süddeutsche Monatshefte,” January 1904, under the title “Die

Selbständigkeit der Biologie und ihre Probleme.”

102 In the “Biol. Zentralbl.,” June 1903, p. 427, Driesch is criticised

by Moszkowski, who rejects Driesch’s teleological standpoint. But

even this criticism shows us how far the untenability of the

mechanistic position has been recognised. It is based upon a

somewhat vague dynamism, which admits that the physico-chemical and

all other mechanical interpretations have been destructively

criticised by Driesch, and recognises entelechy (“ἐν ἑαυτῷ τὸ τέλος

ἔχον”). An entelechy without τέλος!

103 “Vorfragen der Biologie,” 1899. “Die ‘Ueberwindung des Mechanismus’

in der Biologie.” “Biolog. Zentralbl.,” 1901, p. 130.

_ 104 Cf._ Tad. Garbowski, “Morphogenetische Studien,” p. 167. The

illustration here employed of the arc and the “explanation of form

by form” would be a good criticism of many of Albrecht’s statements.

105 Schneider has expounded his physiological and morphological view in

his “Comparative Histology.” In “Vitalismus” (“Elementare

Lebensfunctionen,” Vienna, 1903) he sums up his vitalistic views. It

is a comprehensive work which goes deeper than others of its class

into the detailed description and analysis of the intimate phenomena

of life. Indeed it almost amounts to an independent biology. But the

most essential vital problems, the development of form,

regeneration, and inheritance, to which Driesch gives the fullest

consideration, are all too briefly treated. In Chapters XI. and XII.

the question of vitalism expands into a far-reaching discussion of

the general outlook upon nature. We need not here concern ourselves

with his more general views. Schneider must be regarded as a

representative of the most modern tendency of “Psychism,” which,

stimulated by Mach, Avenarius, and the school of

“immanence-philosophy,” finds expression among the younger

physiologists and biologists, from Schneider to Driesch, Verworn,

Albrecht, and others. To overthrow “materialism” and “realism,” they

utilise, with impetuous delight, the ancient self-evident idea that

what is given to us is sensation. They confuse and identify such

opposites as Kant and Berkeley, and their own position with that of

“solipsism.” This outlook is still vague and vacillating, and it may

perhaps compel epistemology to return on its old path from the

sophists to Plato, from Hume to Kant. In Schneider’s case, however,

the thin stream of this new sensualism is intermingled with so many

intuitions and perceptions of the deeper nature of knowledge that

one is now curious to know how this strange mixture of

semi-materialism, idealism, solipsism, and a priorism is to make the

transition from its present extremely labile phase to a condition of

stable equilibrium. One fears lest sooner or later a reaction

against the contortions of this empiricism and psychism should lead

to a modern rehabilitation of mysticism or occultism. (_Cf._ p. 295

ff.)

In an essay on “Vitalism” in the “Preuss. Jahrbuch,” Aug. 1903, p.

276, Schneider has supplemented his previous work.

106 If the protest of natural science against these means no more than

that they should be excluded as inaccessible to scientific

understanding, from the domain of its investigation, but not from

reality, it is perhaps fully justified in its methods.

107 Though somewhat inconsequent, since at any rate the enthusiasm for

truth could not result from a naturalistic, but only from some kind

of idealistic basis.

108 Schleiermacher, “Reden über die Religion,” ii.

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