On the old theory of creation, in face of these facts, we cannot save the admired doctrine that nature does nothing in vain; but on the Darwinian theory of creation, that doctrine still holds good, and wisdom is still justified by all her productions; for Natural Selection works only for the good of a species; it does not work in vain, or waste its efforts in getting rid of any organ simply because it is useless, so long as it is not injurious; it leaves it as it was and where it was, a germ, a capacity, perhaps, in the future, to be re-developed or fitted for a new purpose. Here we have incidentally touched upon what seems to be morally the grandest part of the whole theory, an even sublime explanation, as far as it goes, of that small fraction which we see in terrestrial life of the great and manifold works of God. We noted above that it is to death, a necessity much hated, much maligned, that we owe the possibility of our own birth and standing-room on the face of the globe; but the theory of Natural Selection makes it further clear that the causes of death which we most dread and think evil of--war and famine and pestilence--are tending continually to improve the races of living creatures. On the whole, the wisest, the strongest, the healthiest survive to propagate their species. In the long run, prudence, courage, and temperance prevail, and their owners become the parents of the later generations. When the competition for life becomes severe, as to every race of creatures, man included, it does at times become, the smallest advantageous variation will give its possessor a superior chance of surviving, while the smallest that is disadvantageous will diminish the chance. Take the apposite instance of a number of quadrupeds incapable of climbing, supported by browsing on the leaves of trees during a dearth of other suitable food. When the lower leaves within the general reach were exhausted, the famine still continuing, those animals alone would survive which, by some peculiarity, could reach the higher leaves. In this way, those that could spring best, those that could assume even a climbing posture, those endowed with the longest legs, snouts, or necks, would be selected. In some such a way, then, we can conceive the jumping powers of the kangaroo and the antelope, the climbing powers of the bear and the cat, the trunk of the elephant, and the long neck of the giraffe to have been evolved by natural selection. The keen scent of the hound, the sharp eye of the lynx, the gay colours of the butterfly, the splendid plumage of the bird of Paradise, are all easy to account for on this principle of natural selection. So, too, are the dull colours of many female birds, to whom obscurity is useful in protecting their young; so, too, the almost blindness of the mole, which works in the dark, and to which an instrument at once delicate and useless, would entail the risk of positive injury.