of his bodily organs to the service of his intelligence is obvious and striking. The hand bears marks of being designed, more clearly than the tools which the hand makes. The eye displays contrivance, more impressively than all the optical instruments which man can contrive. I distinguish myself from the eye, and from my body of which the eye is a part; and I know that the eye was made for me to see with. When we consider the adaptation of the sexes to one another, the physical and moral arrangements of Nature which result in the family, in the production and rearing of offspring; and when we contemplate the relation of the family to the state, and the relation of the family and the state to the kingdom of God, where the ideas and affections developed in the family and in the state find a broader scope and higher objects to rest upon,the evidences of a preconceived plan are overwhelming.

It is objected that in Nature design is immanent, the efficient cause reaches its ends without going out of itself; whereas in all the works of man the efficient cause is distinct and separate from the object in which the end is realized. In Nature the efficient cause operates from within, and appears to work out the end without conscious purpose. The forces of Nature appear to achieve the order and variety and beauty which we behold, of themselves, through no external compulsion, and at the same time without consciousness. In an organism every part is both means and end: the structure grows up, repairs itself, and per petuates itself by reproduction; but the active force by which these ends are fulfilled is not in the least aware of what it is doing. Thus, it is contended, the analogy fails between the artificial products of human ingenuity and the works of Nature. These works

arise, we are told, through forces which operate in the manner of instinct. It is a blind intelligence, it is said, performing works resembling those which man does, often less perfectly, with conscious design. But for the very reason that instinct is blind, incapable of foreseeing the end which it is to attain, and of choosing the appropriate means, we are obliged to connect it with a conscious wisdom of which it is the instrument. A "blind intelligence" is a contradiction in terms. When we see a purpose carried out, we are impelled to trace the operation to an intelligent Author, whether the end is attained by an agency acting from within or from without. The accurate mathematics of the planetary bodies, marking out for themselves their orbits, the unerring path of the birds, the geometry of the bee, the seed-corn sending upward the blossoming and fruitbearing stalk, excite a wonder the secret of which is the insufficiency of the operative cause to effect these marvels of intelligence and foresight.

The popular objection to the argument of design imputes to it the fallacy of confounding use with forethought or intention. Is not the eye for seeing? Yes, it is answered, that is its use or function; but this is not to say that it was planned for this use or function, for, when you affirm design, you go back to a mental act. The rejoinder is, that we are driven back to such a mental act, and thus to a designing intelligence. The relation of the constitution of the organ to the use irresistibly suggests the inference. The inference is no arbitrary fancy. Design is brought home to us, just as the relation of the structure of a telescope to its use would compel us of itself to attribute it to a contriving intelligence.

Kant has two criticisms on the argument of design.

The first is, that it can go no farther than to prove an architect or framer of the world, not a creator of matter. But the special function of the argument is to prove that the First Cause is intelligent. The conclusion that the author of the wonderful order which is wrought in and through matter is also the author of matter itself, appears, however, probable. For how can the properties of matter through which it is adapted to the use of being moulded by intelligence, be separated from matter itself? What is matter divorced from its properties? We cannot understand creation, because we cannot create. The nearest approach to creative activity is in the production of good and evil by our own voluntary action. How God creates is a mystery which cannot be fathomed, at least until we know better what matter is. There are philosophers of high repute who favor the Berkeleian hypothesis, which dispenses with a substratum of matter, and ascribes the percepts of sense to the will of the Almighty, exerted according to a uniform rule. Whatever matter may be in its essence, we know that there is an ultimate, unconditioned Cause. We know that this Cause is intelligent and free. To suppose that by the side of the eternal Spirit there is another eternal and selfexistent being, the raw matter of the world, "without form, and void," involves the absurdity of two Absolutes limiting one another. Moreover, scientific study favors the view that matter itself is an effect. If we accept the hypothesis of molecules as the ultimate forms of matter, Sir John Herschel finds in each of these, as related to the others "the essential quality of a manufactured article." Our intuition of the Infinite and Absolute is not contradicted, but rather corroborated, by the evidence which science affords of a supramundane though immanent Deity.

The second difficulty raised by Kant is, that a strictly infinite being cannot be inferred from a finite creation, however extensive or wondrous. All that can be inferred with certainty is an inconceivably vast power and wisdom. The validity of this objection may be conceded. The infinitude of the attributes of God is involved in the intuition of an unconditioned being, the being glimpses of whose attributes are disclosed to us in the order of the finite world.

These objections of Kant are in the Critique of Pure Reason. Elsewhere he brings forward an additional consideration. Admitting that the idea of design is essential to our comprehension of the world, he raises the point that it may be subjective only, regulative of our perceptions, but not objective or "constitutive." Not regarding the idea of design as a priori, like the idea of causation, he inquires whether it may not be a mere supposition, a working hypothesis, which a deeper penetration of Nature might dispense with. The answer to this doubt is, that the thought of design is not artificially originated by ourselves: it is a conviction which the objects of Nature themselves "imperiously " suggest and bring home to us. As Janet has pointed out, there are two classes of hypotheses. Of one class it is true that they are regarded as corresponding with the true nature of things; of the other, that they are only a convenient means for the mind to conceive them. The question is, whether the hypothesis is warranted by the facts, and is perceived veritably to represent Nature. In the proportion in which it does this, its probability grows until it becomes a truth of science. Of this character is the hypothesis of design.

We infer the existence of an intelligent Deity, as we infer the existence of intelligence in our fellow-men,

My senses take no
I perceive

and on grounds equally cogent. cognizance of the minds of other men. certain motions of their bodies. I hear certain sounds emanating from their lips. What right have I, from these purely physical phenomena, to infer the presence of an intelligence behind them? What proof is there of the consciousness in the friend at my side? How can I be assured that he is not a mere automaton, totally unconscious of its own movements? The warrant for the contrary inference lies in the fact, that being possessed of consciousness, and acquainted with its effects in myself, I regard like effects as evidence of a like principle in others. But in this inference I transcend the limits of sense and physical experiment. In truth, in admitting the reality of consciousness in myself, I take a step which no physical observation can justify. Were the brain opened to view, no microscope, were its power infinitely augmented, could discover the least trace of it.

The alternative of design is chance. The Epicurean theory, as expounded by Lucretius, made the world the result of the fortuitous concourse of atoms, which in their motions and concussions, at length fell into the orderly forms in which they abide. The postulate of this theory is the infinite duration of the world. But "no time can really exhaust chance: chance is as infinite as time." And the postulate of infinite time is excluded if the nebular hypothesis is well founded. The time in which the primitive material has consumed in arriving at the present system is finite. It is sometimes said that the order of the universe is possible, because it actually is. The question, however, is not whether it is possible, but whether it is possible with out an intelligent Cause. The Strasbourg Minster is