It will be my essential endeavour to convince you, in the course of these lectures, that such an aspect of the science of biology is wrong; that biology is an elemental natural science in the true sense of the word.
But if biology is an elemental science, then, and only then, it stands in close relations to epistemology and ontology—in the same relations to them, indeed, as every natural science does which deals with true elements of nature, and which is willing to abandon naïve realism and contribute its share to the whole of human knowledge.
And, therefore, a philosophical sketch is not out of place at the beginning of lectures on the Philosophy of the Organism. We may be forced, we, indeed, shall be forced, to remain for some time on the ground of realistic empiricism, for biology has to deal with very complicated experiences; but there will be a moment in our progress when we shall enter the realm of the elemental ontological concepts, and in that very moment our study of life will have become a part of real philosophy. It was not without good reasons, therefore, that I shortly sketched, as a sort of introduction to my lectures, the general point of view which we shall take with regard to philosophical questions, and to questions of the philosophy of nature in particular.
On Certain Characteristics of Biology as a Science
Biology is the science of life. Practically, all of you know what a living being is, and therefore it is not necessary to formulate a definition of life, which, at the beginning of our studies, would be either provisional and incomplete, or else dogmatic. In some respects, indeed, a definition should rather be the end of a science than its opening.
We shall study the phenomena of living organisms analytically, by the aid of experiment; our principal object will be to find out laws in these phenomena; such laws will then be further analysed, and precisely at that point we shall leave the realm of natural science proper.
Our science is the highest of all natural sciences, for it embraces as its final object the actions of man, at least in so far as actions also are phenomena observable on living bodies.
But biology is also the most difficult of all natural sciences, not only from the complexity of the phenomena, which it studies, but in particular for another reason which is seldom properly emphasised, and therefore will well repay us for a few words devoted to it.
Except so far as the “elements” of chemistry come into account, the experimenter in the inorganic fields of nature is not hampered by the specificity of composite objects: he makes all the combinations he wants. He is always able to have at his disposal red rays of a desired wave length when and where he wants, or to have, at a given time and place, the precise amount of any organic compound which he wishes to examine. And he forces electricity and electromagnetism to obey his will, at least with regard to space, time, and intensity of their appearance.
The biologist is not able to “make” life, as the physicist has made red rays or electromagnetism, or as the chemist has made a certain compound of carbon. The biologist is almost always in that strange plight in which the physicist would be if he always had to go to volcanoes in order to study the conductivity of heat, or if he had to wait for thunderstorms in order to study electricity. The biologist is dependent on the specificity of living objects as they occur in nature.