2. The word ‘Nature.’

The signification attached to the word ‘Nature’ is by no means the same at the present day as it has been in the past: as commonly used it is a word of varied meanings and limitations, so that misconception and confusion is liable to be associated with it. By the professed student of modern sciences it is usually understood as a name for the entire mechanism of the universe, the kosmos in all its parts; and it is in this sense that I use it. But many still identify ‘Nature’ with a limited portion of that great system, and even retain for it a special application to the animals and plants of this earth and their immediate surroundings. Thus we have the term ‘natural history’ and the French term ‘les sciences naturelles’ limited to the study of the more immediate and concrete forms of animals, plants, and crystals. There is some justification for separating the conception of Nature as specially concerned in the production and maintenance of living things from that larger Nature which embraces, together with this small but deeply significant area, the whole expanse of the heavens in the one direction and Man himself in the other. Giordano Bruno, who a little more than 300 years ago visited Oxford and expounded his views, was perhaps the first to perceive and teach the unity of this greater Nature, anticipating thus in his prophetic vision the conclusion which we now accept as the result of an accumulated mass of evidence. Shakespeare came into touch with Bruno’s conception, and has contrasted the more limited and a larger (though not the largest) view of Nature in the words of Perdita and Polyxenes. Says Perdita:—

‘ ... the fairest flowers o’ the season

Are our carnations, and streak’d gillyvors,

Which some call Nature’s bastards; of that kind

Our rustic garden’s barren; and I care not

To get slips of them.... For I have heard it said,

There is an art which, in their piedness, shares

With great creating nature.’

To which Polyxenes replies:—

‘Say there be—

Yet nature is made better by no mean,

But nature makes that mean: so, over that art,

Which, you say, adds to nature, is an art

That nature makes. You see, sweet maid, we marry

A gentle scion to the wildest stock;

And make conceive a bark of baser kind

By bud of nobler race; this is an art

Which does mend nature,—change it, rather: but

The art itself is nature.’

The larger proportion of so-called educated people even at the present day have not got beyond Perdita’s view of Nature. They regard the territory of Nature as a limited one, the play-ground or sport of all sorts of non-natural demons and fairies, spirits and occult agencies. Apart from any definite scheme or conception of these operations, they personify Nature and attribute a variety of virtues and tendencies to her for which there is no justification. We are told, according to the fancy of the speaker, that such a course is in accordance with Nature; that another course is contrary to Nature; we are urged to return to Nature and we are also urged to resist Nature. We hear that Nature will find a remedy for every ill, that Nature is just, that Nature is cruel, that Nature is sweet and our loving mother. On the one hand Man is regarded as outside of and opposed to Nature, and his dealings are contrasted favourably or unfavourably with those of Nature. On the other hand we are informed that Man must after all submit to Nature and that it is useless to oppose her. These contradictory views are in fact fragments of various systems of philosophy of various ages in which the word ‘Nature’ has been assigned equally various limitations and extensions. Without attempting to discuss the history and justification of these different uses of the word Nature, I think that I may here use the word Nature as indicating the entire kosmos of which this cooling globe with all upon it is a portion.