But to say, "I do not pretend to account for what I find in Nature," what is this but to discard the whole question, to give it up as one insoluble, at least _by him_, and to leave to others the problems which have ever exercised the noblest and most gifted minds?
Mr.Holyoake is not bound, indeed, to explain everything, and he mistakes if he supposes that any one expects this at his hand.

There are many subjects on which even a man of science must ingenuously confess his ignorance, and many more so little connected with the interests and duties of life as to have only a very slight claim on his interest and attention.

But Religion is not one of these: it is so closely related to the welfare and the duty of men, and has such a direct bearing on the conscience, that it demands and deserves the serious attention of all; and no one who undertakes to instruct his fellow-men, and especially when he attempts to overthrow their most sacred convictions, is entitled to turn round and say, "I do not pretend to account for what I find in Nature." He is bound to give some intelligible answer to the question, What is the cause of these marvellous phenomena which I behold?
and what is the ground of that religious belief which has always prevailed in the world?
But Mr.Holyoake is deterred from any attempt to answer such questions by its amazing presumption: "The assumption is,--we may look through Nature up to Nature's God.

That seems to me to imply a power, a capacity, an endowment, which repels me at the outset.

If we are to deal with the common sense of probability, I say I am repelled by the amazing probability which is against me if I am to deal with the assumption of distinctness,--that I can look from Nature up to Nature's God.