assent of an immense majority of thinkers, and that the latest master-writer upon the subject disposed to reject it, namely, Mill, comes to the conclusion that, “in the present state of our knowledge, the adaptations in Nature afford a large balance of probability in favor of creation by intelligence.”  It proceeds to attack not so much the evidence in favor of design as the foundation upon which the whole doctrine rests, and closes with the prediction that sooner or later the superstructure must fall.  And, truly, if his reasonings are legitimate, and his conclusions just, “Science has laid the axe to the tree.”

“Given a set of marks which we look upon in human productions as unfailing indications of design,” he asks, “is not the inference equally legitimate when we recognize these marks in Nature?  To gaze on such a universe as this, to feel our hearts exult within us in the fullness of existence, and to offer in explanation of such beneficent provision no other word but Chance, seems as unthankful and iniquitous as it seems absurd.  Chance produces nothing in the human sphere; nothing, at least, that can be relied upon for good.  Design alone engenders harmony, consistency; and Chance not only never is the parent, but is constantly the enemy of these.  How, then, can we suppose Chance to be the author of a system in which everything is as regular as clockwork? . . .  The hypothesis of Chance is inadmissible.”

There is, then, in Nature, an order; and, in “P.C.W.’s” sense of the word, a manifest purpose.  Some sort of conception as to the cause of it is inevitable, that of design first and foremost.  “Why”—­the Westminster Reviewer repeats the question—­“why, if the marks of utility and adaptation are conclusive in the works of man, should they not be considered equally conclusive in the works of Nature?” His answer appears to us more ingenious than sound.  Because, referring to Paley’s watch,—­

“The watch-finder is not guided solely in his inference by marks of adaptation and utility; he would recognize design in half a watch, in a mere fragment of a watch, just as surely as in a whole time-keeper . . .  Two cog-wheels, grasping each other, will be thought conclusive evidence of design, quite independently of any use attaching to them.  And the inference, indeed, is perfectly correct; only it is an inference, not from a mark of design, properly so called, but from a mark of human workmanship . . .  No more is needed for the watch-finder, since all the works of man are, at the same time, products of design; but a great deal more is requisite for us, who are called upon by Paley to recognize design in works in which this stamp, this label of human workmanship, is wanting.  The mental operation required in the one case is radically different from that performed in the other; there is no parallel, and Paley’s demonstration is totally irrelevant."[XIII-2] But, surely, all human doings are not “products of design;” many are contingent or accidental.