Ladies and Gentlemen,—No word has played a more important part in the discussion of scientific and philosophical questions than the word Nature. Everyone thinks he knows the meaning of it. Yet how few have used it to express the same idea; indeed it has been employed to convey such a variety of impressions that John Stuart Mill asserts that it has been the "fruitful source" of the propagation of "false taste, false philosophy, false morality, and even bad law." Now, I propose in this lecture that we start with some clear ideas concerning the meaning of such words, upon the right understanding of which the whole force of my arguments depends. What, then, is meant by the word Nature? When used by a materialist it has two important meanings. In its large and philosophical sense it means, as Mr. Mill says: "The sum of all phenomena, together with the causes which produce them, including not only all that happens, but all that is capable of happening—the unused capabilities of matter being as much a part of the idea of Nature as those which take effect." But the word Nature is often used, and rightly used, to distinguish the "natural" from the "artificial" object—that is, to indicate the difference between a thing produced spontaneously by Nature, from a thing wrought by the skill and labor of man.
But it must not be supposed that the artificial object forms no part of Nature. All art belongs to Nature. Art simply means the adaptation, the moulding into certain forms of the things of Nature, and therefore the artistic productions of man are included in the comprehensive sense of the term Nature which I just now used.
Now in Nature there is a permanent and a changeable-element, but man only takes cognisance of the changeable or phenomenal element; of the substratum underlying phenomena he knows and can know nothing whatever; that is, man does not know what matter and force are in themselves in the abstract, he only knows them in the concrete, as they affect him through the medium of his senses.
Now I allege that nearly all the mistakes of theology have arisen from the ignorance of man in regard to Nature and her mode of operation. Let us consider for a moment a few facts in reference to man. Of course I don't want to take you back to his origin. But suppose we go back no further than a few thousand years, we shall find that man lived in holes in the earth; that he moved about in fear and trembling; that not only did he fight against his fellow creatures, but that he went in constant fear of animals who sought him as their prey. Under these circumstances he looked to Nature for assistance. He felt how unspeakably helpless he was, and he cried aloud for help. Sometimes he imagined that he received what in his agony he had yearned for. Then it was that he thought that Nature was most kind. Perhaps he wanted food to eat and had tried in vain to procure it. But presently a poor beast comes across his path, and he slays it and satisfies his hunger. Or perhaps he himself is in danger. A ferocious animal is in pursuit of him and he sees no means of escape, but presently comes in view a narrow stream of water which he can swim across, but which his pursuer cannot. When he is again secure he utters a deep sigh of relief. In time he makes rapid strides of progress. He learns to keep himself warm while the animals about him are perishing with cold; he learns to make weapons wherewith to destroy his enemies; but his greatest triumph of all is when he has learned how to communicate his thoughts to his fellows. Up to now it would be pretty safe to say that man was destitute of all ideas concerning the existence of god or gods. But he advances one stage further, and his thoughts begin to take something like definite shape. He forms for himself a theory as to the cause of the events happening about him. And now the reign of the gods begins. Man is still a naked savage; as Voltaire truly says: "Man had only his bare skin, which continually exposed to the sun, rain and hail, became chapped, tanned, and spotted. The male in our continent was disfigured by spare hairs on his body, which rendered him frightful without covering him. His face was hidden by these hairs. His skin became a rough soil which bore a forest of stalks, the roots of which tended upwards and the branches of which grew downwards. It was in this state that this animal ventured to paint god, when in course of time he learnt the art of description." ("Philosophical Dictionary," vol. ii., page 182).
Naturally enough man's first objects of worship were fetishes—gods of wood, stone, trees, fire, water. By-and-bye, however, he came to worship living beings; in fact, any animal that he thought was superior in any way to himself was converted into an object of worship. But none of these gods were of any assistance to him in promoting his advancement in the world. And neither did he receive any assistance from the spontaneous action of Nature. In fact he advanced in the road of civilisation only in proportion as he offered ceaseless war against the hurtful forces of nature, using one force to counteract the destructive character of another. Think what the earth must have been without a solitary house upon it, without a man who yet knew how to till the soil! Must it not have been a howling wilderness fit only for savage beasts and brutal barbarians? In course of time, however, man made great strides. He began to live in communities, which afterwards grew, into nations. He betook himself also to the art of agriculture, and supplied himself and his fellows with good, nutritious food. And with this growth of man the gods underwent a similar transition. Now instead of bowing down before fetishes, man transferred his worship to gods and goddesses who were supposed to dwell somewhere in the sky. And these gods were of a very peculiar kind. Each of them had a separate department to himself and performed only a certain class of actions. One made the sun to shine and the trees to grow; one had a kind of dynamite factory to himself, and manufactured lightning and thunder; another was a god of love; another secretary for war; another perpetual president of the Celestial Peace Society. Some had several heads; some had only one eye or one arm; some had wings, while others appeared like giants, and hurled thunderbolts at the heads of unoffending people. But these gods were of no more service to man than those that preceded them. If man advanced it was by his own effort, by virtue of using his intelligence, by strife, warfare, and by suffering.
Neither Nature nor the gods taught man to be truthful, honest, just, nor even to be clean. No god came to tell him that he must not lie, nor steal, nor murder.. All virtues are acquired, all are the result of education. And it was only after coming together and being criticised by one another; men being criticised by women who no doubt taught them that when they came a-wooing they would have a very slight chance if they were not clean and respectable; living in societies and being governed by the wisest among their fellows, who were able to judge as to what kind of actions produced the most beneficial results, that laws against theft, adultery, and murder, and other evil actions, were established. From Polytheism, or belief in many gods, the next great step was to Monotheism, or belief in one god. This was an important transition, and meant the clearing from the heavens of many fictitious deities. But though the monotheist believed only in one god, that did not prevent others from believing in an entirely different deity. The ancient Jew worshipped Jahveh, but that did not prevent the Baalites from having a god of their own, to whom they could appeal in the hour of need. And just let me here observe that the early monotheist always worshipped an anthropomorphic or man-like deity. And he worshipped such a god because man was the highest being of whom he had any conception. His god was always the counterpart of himself and reflected all the characteristics of his own nature. Was he brutal and licentious? So was his god. Was he in favor of aggressive wars? So was his god. Was he a petty tyrant, in favor of slavery? So was his god. Was he a polygamist? So was his god. Was he ignorant of the facts of life? So was his god. Was he revengeful and relentless? So was his god.
And in whatever book we find a deity described as a malevolent or fiendish wretch depend upon it, by whatever name that book may be known, and by whomsoever it may be reverenced, it was written by one who possessed in his own person precisely the same characteristics as those he depicted in the character of his deity.
The Jewish god, Jahveh, it must be understood, was not a spiritual being, although it is sometimes pretended that he was. No. He was a purely material being. True he lived somewhere up above, but he made very frequent visits to the earth. Once he walked in the garden of Eden "in the cool of day," or "his voice" did for him (Gen. iii., 8). Once he stood upon a mountain, whither Moses, Aaron, Nadab and Abihu had gone to hold a consultation with him (Ex. xxiv., 10). Once he talked with Moses "face to face" (Ex. xxxiii., 11).
And not only was Jahveh a material being, but on the whole he was not a very formidable deity. In point of truth he was a very little fellow. And by way of diversion he was sometimes drawn about in a small box, or ark, two feet long and three feet wide (Sam. vi., 6, 7). As evidence that even among professional Christians to-day Jahveh is not looked upon as a very stalwart fellow, Mr. Edward Gibson, in the House of Commons, a short time ago said that if Mr. Bradlaugh were admitted into that assembly the effect of it would be that god would be "thrown out of the window."
And if you want to find a man with "small ideas" on general matters it is only necessary to know the kind of god he worships to be able to determine the intellectual width and depth of such a man's mind.