plained from mechanical principles, but that no such explanation could be given of the origin and the characters of living beings. Such was the position taken by the author of the introduction to the "Universal History," whom we have already seen Kant quoting.
The manner of the original formation of plants and animals, in which the wisdom of the Creator principally appears, has never been accounted for by any philosopher with any tolerable success; matter and the laws of motion having nothing at all to do in these things, whatever they have in the inanimate parts of the world.[1]
And this was substantially the attitude which Kant adopted, in the one passage of the "Allgemeine Naturgeschichte" in which he definitely discusses the matter.
We are in a position to say: "Give me matter and I will construct a world." For given matter endued with the essential force of attraction, and [all astronomical phenomena]. . . can be traced back to the simplest mechanical causes, which causes we may confidently hope to discover. . . . But can we boast of any such advantage with respect to the meanest plant or insect? Are we in a position to say: "Give me matter and I will show you how a caterpillar is generated"? Do we not in this case, from the very first step in our quest, remain in ignorance of the true inner constitution of the object in question and of the complexity of the manifold parts composing it? It should surprise no one, therefore, when I venture to say that the formation of all the heavenly bodies, the cause of their motions, in short, the origin of the entire present constitution of the universe, will become completely intelligible, before the generation of a single herb or caterpillar can be made wholly clear from mechanical principles.
This passage is, perhaps, capable of being construed as expressing rather an ignoramus than an ignorabimus. But considering it in conjunction with the uniform tenor of Kant's subsequent writings, we are justified, I think, in saying that he at no time admitted the possibility of bringing organisms within the compass of a scheme of cosmic evolution based upon mechanistic principles. He was, in short, throughout his career a vitalist, though in later life a curiously inconsistent one. The notion of an original "spontaneous generation" of life out of the inorganic always roused his aversion. Yet, as I have remarked, a vitalist may without inconsistency be a transformist; living beings, once produced by non-mechanical causes, may still conceivably change their forms in the course of natural descent. But Kant throughout most of his life looked upon the theories of spontaneous generation and of the transformation of species with so blinding a hostility that he could scarcely tell them apart. We shall find that some thirty-five years of reflection were required before he was able to make so simple a discrimination as to recognize that, from the point of view of his own biological philosophy, the two stood upon & different, even though both stood upon an unsound, footing.
2. The Review of Moscati on Man's Upright Posture.—In 1771
- ↑ Op. cit., 1736, I., p. 43.
