been made had not that working hypothesis been assumed. Indeed, what evidence has any man even for the existence of his own home and family, better than that of a fruitful hypothesis, which has time after time resulted in the expected verification? No man can be absolutely certain that the home he left an hour ago is standing where it did, or that the family he left in it are still in life; still, if he acts on the hypothesis that they are there, he will, in innumerable cases, be rewarded for making that assumption, by finding his expectations verified, and in but a very few cases indeed be disappointed.
If, then, Dr. Ward asks, said Professor Huxley, whether or not I hold that experience can, in a mathematical sense, prove the uniformity of Nature, I answer that I do not believe it; that I believe only that, in the assumption of that uniformity of Nature, we have a working hypothesis of the most potent kind, which I have never found to fail me. But further, if I might use the word "believe" loosely, though with much less looseness than that with which men who are not students of science habitually use it, I should not hesitate to avow a belief that the uniformity of Nature is proved by experience, for I should be only too glad to think that half the "demonstrated" beliefs of metaphysicians are even a tenth part as trustworthy as the great working hypothesis of science. The man of science, however, "who commits himself to even one statement which turns out to be devoid of good foundation, loses somewhat of his reputation among his fellows, and if he is guilty of the same error often he loses not only his intellectual but his moral standing among them; for it is justly felt that errors of this kind have their root rather in the moral than in the intellectual nature." That, I suppose, is the reason why men of science are so chary of investigating the trustworthiness of the soi-disant miracles to which Dr. Ward is so anxious that we should pay an attention much greater than any which in my opinion they deserve. For the scientific man justly fears that, if he investigates them thoroughly, he shall wound many amiable men's hearts, and that if he does not wound amiable men's hearts he shall compromise his own character as a man of science.
As Professor Huxley's rich and resonant voice died away, Father Dalgairns, after looking modestly round to see whether any one else desired to speak, began in tones of great sweetness: Professor Huxley has implied that to the scientific student the words "I believe" have a stricter and more binding force than they have to us theologians. If it really be so, it is very much to our shame, for no words can be conceived which are to us more solemn and more charged with moral obligation. But I confess that the drift of Professor Huxley's remarks hardly bore out to my mind the burden of his peroration. It seems that "a working hypothesis" is the modest phrase which represents even the very maximum of scientific belief, for would Professor Huxley admit that he has any belief, except of course
