It therefore appears very probable, by the above reasons, that there really exists in nature a number of small organized beings, alike, in every respect, to the large organized bodies seen in the world; that these small organized beings are composed of living organic particles, which are common to animals and vegetables, and are their primitive and incompatible particles, that the assemblage of these particles form an animal or plant, and consequently that reproduction, or generation, is only a change of form made by the addition of these resembling parts alone, and that death or dissolution is nothing more than a separation of the same particles. Of the truth of this we apprehend there will not remain a doubt, after reading the proofs we shall give in the following chapters. Besides, if we reflect on the manner in which trees grow, and consider how so considerable a volume can arise from so small an origin, we shall be convinced that it proceeds from the simple addition of small resembling organized particles. A grain produces a young tree, which it contained in miniature. At the summit of this small tree a bud is formed, which contains the young tree for the succeeding year, and this bud is an organic part, resembling the young tree of the first year's growth. A similar bud appears the second year, containing a tree for the third; and thus, successively, as long as the tree continues growing, at the extremity of each branch new buds will form, containing young trees like that of the first year. Thus it is evident, that trees are composed of small organized bodies, similar to themselves, and that the whole individual is formed by the union of small resembling individuals.
But, it may be asked, were not all these organized bodies contained in the seed, and may not the order of their expansion be traced from that source, for the bud which first appeared was evidently surmounted by another similar bud, which was not expanded till the second year, and soon to the third; and consequently the seed may be said really to contain all the buds, or young trees that would be produced for a hundred years, or till the dissolution of the tree itself? This seed it is also plain not only contained all the small organized bodies which one day must constitute the individual tree, but also every seed, every individual, and every succession of seeds and individuals, to the total destruction of the species.
This is the principal difficulty, and we shall examine it with the strictest attention. It is certain that the seed produces by the single expansion of the bud, or germ, it contains, a young tree the first year, and that this tree existed in miniature in that bud, but it is not equally certain that the bud of the second year, and those of the succeeding, were all contained in the first seed, no more than that every organized body and seed, which must succeed to the end of the world, or to the destruction of the species, were so. This opinion supposes a progress to infinity, and forms, of each individual, a source of eternal generations. The first seed, in that case, must have contained every plant of its kind which have existed or ever will exist; and the first man must actually and individually have contained in his loins every man which has or will appear on the face of the earth. Each seed, and each animal, agreeable to this opinion, must have possessed within an infinite posterity. But the more we suffer ourselves to wander into these kind of reasonings, the more we lose the sight of truth in the labyrinth of infinity; and instead of clearing up and solving the question, we confuse and involve it in more obscurity; it is placing the object out of sight, and afterwards saying it is impossible to see it.
Let us investigate a little these ideas of infinite progression and expansion. From whence do they arise? What do they represent? The ideas of infinity can only spring from an idea of that which is limited, for it is in that manner we have an idea of an infinity of succession, a geometrical infinity: each individual is an unit, many individuals compose a finite number, and the whole species is the infinite multitude. Thus in the same manner as a geometrical infinity may be demonstrated not to exist, so we may be assured that an infinite progression or expansion does not exist; that it is only an abstract idea, a retrenchment of the idea of finity, of which we take away the limits that necessarily terminate all size; and that, of course, we must reject from philosophy every opinion which leads to an idea of the actual existence of geometrical or arithmetical infinity.
The partizans, therefore, of this opinion must acknowledge, that their infinity of succession and multiplication is, in fact, only an indeterminate or indefinite number; a number greater than any we can have an idea of, but which is not infinite. This being granted, they will tell us, that the first seed of an elm, for example, which does not weigh a grain, really contains all the organic particles necessary for the formation of this, and every other tree of the same kind which ever shall appear. But what do they explain to us by this answer? Is it not cutting the knot instead of untying it, and eluding the question when it should be resolved.
When we ask how beings are multiplied? and it is answered that this multiplication was compleatly made in the first body, is it not acknowledging that they are ignorant how it is made, and renouncing the will of conceiving it? The question is asked, how one body produces its like? and it is answered, that the whole was created at once. Can we receive this as a solution? for whether one or a million of generations have passed the like difficulty remains, and so far from explaining the supposition of an indefinite number of germs, increases the obscurity, and renders it incomprehensible.
I own, that in this circumstance, it is easier to start objections than to establish probabilities, and that the question of reproduction is of such subtle nature, as possibly never to be fully resolved; but then we should search whether it is totally inscrutable, and by that examination, we shall discover all that is possible to be known of the subject; or at least, why we must remain ignorant of it.
There are two kinds of questions, some belonging to the first causes, the others have only particular effects; for example, if it is asked, why matter is impenetrable? it must either remain unanswered, or be replied to by saying, matter is impenetrable, because it is impenetrable. It will be the same with respect to all the general qualities of matter, whether relative to gravity, extension, motion or rest; no other reply can be given, and we shall not be surprised that such is the case, if we attentively consider, that in order to give a reason for a thing, we must have a different subject from which we may deduce a comparison, and therefore if the reason of a general cause is asked, that is, of a quality which belongs to all in general, and of which we have no subject to which it does not belong, we are consequently unable to reason upon it; from thence it is demonstrable, it would be useless to make such enquiries, since we should go against the supposition that quality is general and universal.
If, on the contrary, the reason of a particular effect depends immediately on one of the general causes above mentioned, and whether it partakes of the general effect immediately, or by a chain of other effects, the question will be equally solved, provided we distinctly perceive the dependence these effects have on each other, and the connections there are between them.