the explanation itself." Well, the constitution and condition of man being
such that he always does infer design in Nature, what stronger presumption
could there possibly be of the relevancy of the inference? We do not say of
its correctness: that is another thing, and is not the present point. At
the last, as has well been said, the whole question resolves itself into
one respecting the ultimate veracity of Nature, or of the author of Nature,
if there be any.

Passing from these attempts to undermine the foundation of the
doctrine--which we judge to be unsuccessful--we turn to the consideration
of those aimed at the superstructure. Evidences of design may be relevant,
but not cogent. They may, as Mill thought, preponderate, or the wavering
balance may incline the other way. There are two lines of argument: one
against the sufficiency, the other against the necessity, of the principle
of design. Design has been denied on the ground that it squares with only
one part of the facts, and fails to explain others; it may be superseded by
showing that all the facts are in the way of being explained without it.

The things which the principle of design does not explain are many and
serious. Some are in their nature inexplicable, at least are beyond the
power and province of science. Others are of matters which scientific
students have to consider, and upon which they may form opinions, more or
less well grounded. As to biological science--with which alone we are
concerned--it is getting to be generally thought that this principle, as
commonly understood, is weighted with much more than it can carry.

This statement will not be thought exaggerated by those most familiar with
the facts and the ideas of the age, and accustomed to look them in the
face. Design is held to, no doubt, by most, and by a sure instinct; not,
however, as always offering an explanation of the facts, but in spite of