another result actually does occur in obedience to some mysterious life-force. No; it is the life-impulse which makes the law, obeys it and utilizes it. One can never say, “Such and such would have happened if the life-force had not been in action, but, as it was, the event was so-and-so”; for if it were not in action nothing would ever happen at all—the Universe would be the Eternal Nothing. One might as well speculate as to what would happen in a game of whist if nobody held a trump. The voluntary limitations under which nature works resemble, in the conception here put forward, the playing of a game, say a game of ‘Patience,’ where there is only one player, who plays the game with himself. There are laws to be obeyed, combinations which are necessary, but a guiding force can take advantage of the conditions as they arise and lead them to a certain end. If there were no laws and conditions there would be no game. If, on the other hand, matter were absolutely plastic life could not realize itself; nature’s game would be finished ere it was begun. A concrete illustration may, while we are on this topic, serve to suggest the kind of limitations under which nature seems to work.[99] During the last century or so the African elephant has been ruthlessly hunted down for its ivory, and since rifles and expanding bullets came into play the process of extermination has been greatly hastened. Elephants are now, I believe, protected by law over a great part of South Africa, but if it were not for this the species would at present be in considerable danger of extinction. The case is very like that of the _Kallima_ butterfly and similar mimetic forms before they acquired their protective markings. Now, how might we expect nature to attempt the protection of the elephant? Doubtless by increased fleetness, cunning, watchfulness, capacity of one kind or another for concealing itself from hostile observation. But could we look for any such development as, for example, a deterioration in the quality of the ivory? Suppose, for example, the interior structure of the tusk were to become spongy and cellular instead of being dense. The tusk, if coated with hard enamel, might be almost if not quite as useful to the elephant, but it would cease to be of any use for most of the purposes to which it is now applied by man. The protection would be most effective; yet we know that nothing of this kind can possibly take place, though intrinsically the process would be far less remarkable than the painting of the butterfly’s wing. It cannot take place because it would either imply a supernatural knowledge on the part of the evolution-dominants of the elephant tribe of the _reasons_ why it is hunted, or a conscious supervising and co-ordinating power above nature, a manlike Deity, omnipotent and omniscient, such as Paley assumed; to both of which explanations the actual processes of nature stand uncompromisingly opposed.