fangled name of Monists, they loudly and triumphantly proclaimed that it was all over with teleology, and that it could, without further ado, be relegated to the limbo of exploded theory and fanciful hypothesis. Büchner asserted that "modern investigation and natural philosophy have shaken themselves tolerably free from these empty and superficial conceptions of design, and leave such childish views to those who are incapable of liberating themselves from such anthropomorphic ideas, which, unfortunately, still obtain in school and Church to the detriment of truth and science."[1] And Haeckel, with his usual dogmatism, writes, I maintain with regard to the much-talked-of purpose in Nature, that it really has no existence except for those persons who observe phenomena in plants and animals in the most superficial manner."[2]
"The more profound and philosophic men of science did not, however, share the notions of Haeckel and Büchner. They admitted, it is true, that the teleology of Paley and of the authors of the Bridgewater Treatises was no longer tenable, but they did not, therefore, conclude that teleology was completely annihilated. Far from it. Teleology, they said, must be modified so as to meet the demands of modern science and research, and, as so modified, it is stronger, nobler, and more comprehensive than ever before. So thought among others Huxley and Gray, and so think also Wallace, Mivart, and the Duke of Argyll.
The most remarkable service to the philosophy of biology rendered by Mr. Darwin," writes Huxley in his Darwiniana, "is the reconciliation of teleology and morphology, and the explanation of the facts of both which his views offer. . . . It is necessary to remember that there is a wider teleology which is not touched by the doctrine of evolution, but is actually based upon the fundamental principle of evolution."[3]
America's great naturalist, Prof. Asa Gray, is no less explicit. "Let us," he says, "recognize Darwin's great service to natural science in bringing back to it teleology, so that, instead of morphology versus teleology, we have morphology wedded to teleology."[4]
"The idea of development in all its logical forms," declares the Duke of Argyll, in his late admirable work, The Philosophy of Belief, "is not antagonistic to, but in perfect harmony with, the idea of purpose. Design, from first to last, from its first conception to the attainment of its farthest aims, is, and so far as we know, must be a process of development. That development may be slow, or it may be quick and sudden in its steps. It may be effected in ways widely various, as by outward building or inward growth, but its
