I presented all the essential and distinctive elements of my monistic and genetic philosophy thirty-three years ago, in my General Morphology of Organisms, a large and laborious work, which has had but a limited circulation. It was the first attempt to apply in detail the newly established theory of evolution to the whole science of organic forms. In order to secure the acceptance of at least one part of the new thought which it contained, and to kindle a wider interest in the greatest advancement of knowledge that our century has witnessed, I published my Natural History of Creation two years afterwards. As this less complicated work, in spite of its great defects, ran into nine large editions and twelve different translations, it has contributed not a little to the spread of monistic views. The same may be said of the less known Anthropogeny[1] (1874), in which I set myself the difficult task of rendering the most important facts of the theory of man’s descent accessible and intelligible to the general reader; the fourth, enlarged, edition of that work appeared in 1891. In the paper which I read at the fourth International Congress of Zoology at Cambridge, in 1898, on “Our Present Knowledge of the Descent of Man”[2] (a seventh edition of which appeared in 1899), I treated certain significant and particularly valuable advances which this important branch of anthropology has recently made. Other isolated questions of our modern natural philosophy, which are peculiarly interesting, have been dealt with in my Collected Popular Lectures on the Subject of Evolution (1878). Finally, I have briefly presented the broad principles of my monistic philosophy and its relation to the dominant faith in my Confession of Faith of a Man of Science: Monism as a Connecting Link between Religion and Science[3] (1892, eighth edition, 1899).
The present work on The Riddle of the Universe is the continuation, confirmation, and integration of the views which I have urged for a generation in the aforesaid volumes. It marks the close of my studies on the monistic conception of the universe. The earlier plan, which I projected many years ago, of constructing a complete “System of Monistic Philosophy” on the basis of evolution will never be carried into effect now. My strength is no longer equal to the task, and many warnings of approaching age urge me to desist. Indeed, I am wholly a child of the nineteenth century, and with its close I draw the line under my life’s work.
The vast extension of human knowledge which has taken place during the present century, owing to a happy division of labor, makes it impossible to-day to range over all its branches with equal thoroughness, and to show their essential unity and connection. Even a genius of the highest type, having an equal command of every branch of science, and largely endowed with the artistic faculty of comprehensive presentation, would be incapable of setting forth a complete view of the cosmos in the space of a moderate volume. My own command of the various branches of science is uneven and defective, so that I can attempt no more than to sketch the general plan of such a world-picture, and point out the pervading unity of its parts, however imperfect be the execution. Thus it is that this work on the world-enigma has something of the character of a sketch-book, in which studies of unequal value are associated. As the material of the book was partly written many years ago, and partly produced for the first time during the last few years, the composition is, unfortunately, uneven at times; repetitions, too, have proved unavoidable. I trust those defects will be overlooked.
In taking leave of my readers, I venture the hope that, through my sincere and conscientious work—in spite of its faults, of which I am not unconscious—I have contributed a little towards the solution of the great enigma. Amid the clash of theories, I trust that I have indicated to many a reader who is absorbed in the zealous pursuit of purely rational knowledge that path which, it is my firm conviction, alone leads to the truth—the path of empirical investigation and of the Monistic Philosophy which is based upon it.
Ernst Haeckel.
[PREFACE]
The hour is close upon us when we shall commence our retrospect of one of the most wonderful sections of time that was ever measured by the sweep of the earth. Already the expert is at work, dissecting out and studying his particular phase of that vast world of thought and action we call the nineteenth century. Art, literature, commerce, industry, politics, ethics—all have their high interpreters among us; but in the chance of life it has fallen out that there is none to read aright for us, in historic retrospect, what after ages will probably regard as the most salient feature of the nineteenth century—the conflict of theology with philosophy and science. The pens of our Huxleys, and Tyndalls, and Darwins lie where they fell; there is none left in strength among us to sum up the issues of that struggle with knowledge and sympathy.
In these circumstances it has been thought fitting that we should introduce to English readers the latest work of Professor Haeckel. Germany, as the reader will quickly perceive, is witnessing the same strange reaction of thought that we see about us here in England, yet Die Welträthsel found an immediate and very extensive circle of readers. One of the most prominent zoologists of the century, Professor Haeckel, has a unique claim to pronounce with authority, from the scientific side, on what is known as “the conflict of science and religion.” In the contradictory estimates that are urged on us—for the modern ecclesiastic is as emphatic in his assurance that the conflict has ended favorably to theology as the rationalist is with his counter-assertion—the last words of one of the leading combatants of the second half of the century, still, happily, in full vigor of mind, will be heard with respect and close attention.