I 



ZOOLOGY, AND THE PHILOSOPHY OF EVOLUTION 1 29 



cism of the game, but " they would not in that time have exhausted 

 one hundredth-thousandth part of the possible deals." 



It is not clear to me that combinations are latent in the things 

 combined. In fact, the bearing of these things on the matter 

 seems to be negative and passive, rather than active or positive. 



It is not clear that, with all their latent potency, a pack of 

 cards would ever evolve a single hand without a dealer ; but if a 

 part of the universe, so trivial and insignificant, present opportu- 

 nities so boundless, the matter and motion of our universe may 

 present to a dealer opportunities for universes without end, no 

 one like another. I do not see how^ one can assert that anything 

 in the material universe is necessary or predetermined, except so 

 far as it is one among an infinite number of possibilities. 



Huxley tells us that, " if the fundamental proposition of evo- 

 lution, that the whole world, living and not living, is the result of 

 the mutual interaction, according to definite laws, of the forces 

 possessed by the molecules of which the primitive nebulosity of 

 the universe was composed," be true, "it is no less certain that 

 the existing world lay, potentially, in the cosmic vapour"; and that 

 a sufficient intelligence could, from a knowledge of the properties 

 of the molecules of that vapour, have predicted, say, the state of 

 the fauna of Great Britain in 1868, with as much certainty as 

 one can say what will happen to the vapour of the breath in a 

 cold winter's day." 



The thoughtful reader will note that Huxley's assertion that, 

 if this proposition be true, it is no less certain that the existing 

 world lay, potentially, in the cosmic vapor is no admission that 

 the proposition is true, or the deduction certain ; nor must we 

 forget that the most notable and valuable characteristic of Hux- 

 ley's teachings is the declaration, in all his works, of the truth 

 that the scientific basis of our confidence in the order of nature is 

 evidence. 



Again and again, in words which are unmistakable, he tells 

 us that, while we may have reasonable confidence what to expect 

 from the vapor of our breath in a cold winter's day, we know 

 nothing about it except what has happened. The scientific value 

 of our confidence depends, he tells us, on the extent of our expe- 

 rience of the behavior of the vapor of our breath, and similar 



