Nature in the concluding chapter involves the idea of a moral Governor
and a beneficent Father; and this idea can only be introduced by opening
flood-gates of thought which refuse to be closed just at the moment when
it is necessary to bar the admission of the miraculous. Our author has
ranged himself unconsciously with the 'intuitive philosophers,' of whom
Mr Mill speaks so scornfully. He has appealed, though he does not seem
to be aware of it, to the inner consciousness of man, to the instincts
and cravings of humanity, to interpret and supplement the teachings of
external Nature; and he is altogether unaware how large a concession he
has made to believers in revelation by so doing.

Even though we should close our eyes to all other considerations, it is
vain to ignore the inevitable moral consequences which flow from this
mode of reasoning; for they are becoming every day more apparent. The
demand is made that we should abandon our Christianity on grounds which
logically involve the abandonment of any belief in the providential
government of the world and in the moral responsibility of man. Young
men are apt to be far more logical than their elders. Older persons are
taught by long experience to distrust the adequacy of their premisses:
consciously or unconsciously they supplement the narrow conclusions of
their logic by larger lessons learnt from human life or from their own
heart. But generally speaking, the young man has no such distrust. His
teacher has appealed to Nature, and to Nature he shall go. The teacher
becomes frightened, struggles to retrace his steps, and speaks of 'an
infinitely wise and beneficent Being'; but the pupil insolently points
out how

Nature, red in tooth and claw,
With ravin, shrieks against his creed.