Among the philosophers of the time the distinguished Leibnitz was the chief defender of the “preformation theory,” and by his authority and literary prestige won many adherents to it. Supported by his system of monads, according to which body and soul are united in inseparable association and by their union form the individual, or the “monad,” Leibnitz consistently extended the “scatulation theory” to the soul, and held that this was no more evolved than the body. He says, for instance, in his _Théodicée_: “I mean that these souls, which one day are to be the souls of men, are present in the seed, like those of other species; in such wise that they existed in our ancestors as far back as Adam, or from the beginning of the world, in the forms of organised bodies.”
The theory seemed to receive considerable support from the observations of one of its most zealous supporters, Bonnet. In 1745 he discovered, in the plant-louse, a case of parthenogenesis, or virgin-birth, an interesting form of reproduction that has lately been found by Siebold and others among various classes of the articulata, especially crustacea and insects. Among these and other animals of certain lower species the female may reproduce for several generations without having been fertilised by the male. These ova that do not need fertilisation are called “false ova,” pseudova or spores. Bonnet saw that a female plant-louse, which he had kept in cloistral isolation, and rigidly removed from contact with males, had on the eleventh day (after forming a new skin for the fourth time) a living daughter, and during the next twenty days ninety-four other daughters; and that all of them went on to reproduce in the same way without any contact with males. It seemed as if this furnished an irrefutable proof of the truth of the scatulation theory, as it was held by the Ovulists; it is not surprising to find that the theory then secured general acceptance.
This was the condition of things when suddenly, in 1759, Caspar Friedrich Wolff appeared, and dealt a fatal blow at the whole preformation theory with his new theory of epigenesis. Wolff, the son of a Berlin tailor, was born in 1733, and went through his scientific and medical studies, first at Berlin under the famous anatomist Meckel, and afterwards at Halle. Here he secured his doctorate in his twenty-sixth year, and in his academic dissertation (November 28th, 1759), the _Theoria generationis,_ expounded the new theory of a real development on a basis of epigenesis. This treatise is, in spite of its smallness and its obscure phraseology, one of the most valuable in the whole range of biological literature. It is equally distinguished for the mass of new and careful observations it contains, and the far-reaching and pregnant ideas which the author everywhere extracts from his observations and builds into a luminous and accurate theory of generation. Nevertheless, it met with no success at the time. Although scientific studies were then assiduously cultivated owing to the impulse given by Linné—although botanists and zoologists were no longer counted by dozens, but by hundreds, hardly any notice was taken of Wolff’s theory. Even when he established the truth of epigenesis by the most rigorous observations, and demolished the airy structure of the preformation theory, the “exact” scientist Haller proved one of the most strenuous supporters of the old theory, and rejected Wolff’s correct view with a dictatorial “There is no such thing as evolution.” He even went on to say that religion was menaced by the new theory! It is not surprising that the whole of the physiologists of the second half of the eighteenth century submitted to the ruling of this physiological pontiff, and attacked the theory of epigenesis as a dangerous innovation. It was not until more than fifty years afterwards that Wolff’s work was appreciated. Only when Meckel translated into German in 1812 another valuable work of Wolff’s on _The Formation of the Alimentary Canal_ (written in 1768), and called attention to its great importance, did people begin to think of him once more; yet this obscure writer had evinced a profounder insight into the nature of the living organism than any other scientist of the eighteenth century.