Writers and thinkers with a strong theological bias, seem to fear that the world would go to pieces if the scriptural God or Gods were deposed. They seem to apprehend that the moral and political economy would seriously suffer, and the moral idea especially be destroyed.

When these gentlemen find it impossible to reconcile the difficulties that overshadow the personal and triple-headed deities—that somehow they cannot make them harmonize with the recent discoveries and the development in natural sciences—they attempt to mold them so as to fit the requirements of the occasion.

Thus, it was discovered that the prime essence of the world is God, or something that pervades all nature; that he is the first great cause, and that this implies some huge mountain of will power, and an immense ocean of intelligence; that he is the creator of all things—that out of him this world emerged and out of the world all the various activities and objects were developed by the life inherent in the substances, etc.

Then again they represent him as a great designer—declare that God designed all things and beings, and put everything in shipshape order; and after the design was finished he set the machinery in motion.

These, and interminable similar pet theories and excuses, are made for God to retain a foothold in the mind of man. Clever brains and prolific imaginations have succeeded in clothing God, or Gods, with all the attributes thus far discovered either in man, beast, planet, or space—extension, contraction, elasticity, etc.—modes, limitation, finite, infinite, absolute—everything, in fact, that has ever been printed in the largest encyclopedia known.

These gentlemen should have had memories that the original doubts in Abraham’s mind were the result of common sense and reason; that he still retained the sensual qualities of the Chaldean gods. The modifications and transitions of that first idea are very marked, as well as very numerous. By the time we reach Christ, he is not the same. It is to be regretted that we have no compliments to waste on this God—alias Jehova—because a more bloody, selfish, monstrous idea cannot be well portrayed, if the story in the Bible be true.

And certainly he, and his triple alliance, does not exhibit one redeeming quality during the centuries of Christianity, because a more hideous, outrageous, criminal monster cannot be constructed, except by human ingenuity and by human devices.

In another chapter we call the attention of the reader to some of the most barbarous abominations of the Roman Catholic church, and such a polluted set of butchering popes as words fail to give any adequate idea of.

All this goes to show that this imaginary idea of God may be made to fit any person or any purpose.

It is but reasonable to inquire, Does God create the Brain, or does the Brain create God? That is really the entire question in a nutshell.

We know, with absolute certainty, that God does not make brain, otherwise we should have it perhaps a little more uniform, and of a better quality. Besides, all other animals possessing brain would, of course, be entitled to the knowledge of this God in proportion to the size, quantity, and quality of the brain.

This, then, being impossible, we have no other means of arriving at the truth than by concluding that Brain created God. Every brain cannot create God; the great nervous centers may be insufficient, either in quantity or quality, to enable the brain to acquire qualifications that will give expression to more than the instinctive number of sensations and emotions.

Creatures generally are limited to the instinctive number of sensations and emotions; and act, move, and have their being in harmony with these. Animals of all classes belong to this category, and not infrequently man, too. By that is meant, man in an uncultured state, and even among them the degree of experience and the power of observation make the difference between one set of savages and another.

Intelligence, understanding, and reasoning power depend on some kind of experience. The repetition of experience constitutes, in some measure, the training of the senses, and through the senses and the cerebral hemispheres the intellect is thus formed and mind developed.

The intellectual acquirements may be limited by the ascendency of some predominating ideas or opinions that check progress. As for example, the absence of schools in communities, the forcible prevention of education, the prohibition of education by priestly authority of the church, and the suppression by ecclesiastics of all ideas except their own.

This we may term limitation of brain culture by undue interference of the ascendent idea or ideas that limits the range of intelligence and subjects the will power to the control and direction of what the people presumed to be a greater right than their own.

Prescribed limits of education check or stunt the natural progress, and if any progress is made, the people must break through the prescribed limits, as was the case with Luther, Spinoza, Voltaire, Renan, etc.

The ascendency of man over animals checks their further progress in the way of intelligence. The superior hostile intelligence holds possession and will not permit further development. As regards animals, we have taken possession of the earth, and have put a stop to all further advancement.

Supposing a man develops an idea, it is not an easy matter to persuade his next-door neighbor, who is his equal perhaps in intelligence; but, it is not difficult to inculcate his pet idea into his child. It is, as it were, virgin ground, and he plows it to his liking. He has complete control. He is master. He directs it as he wishes, and prevents others from planting strange ideas or ideas hostile or antagonistic to his own.

In this manner we commence breeding ideas, and we continue breeding the same ideas, on the same principle as breeding pigeons or chickens; they are all of the same kind, if you don’t cross them; and the more eggs you lay the more chickens you get, and if they multiply rapidly, especially if you have many hens to one rooster (as the Jews had), what a multitude to spoil a garden-patch!

That is precisely what happens, and that is what actually took place with Abraham.

We have also a natural limitation to brain culture. We may instance the orang-outang, the Bushman, the negro, the idiot, etc.—brains that are not susceptible to much culture or education. The understanding, the development of the intellectual faculties, is limited of necessity. There is no possibility of going beyond their capacity; it will hold a given measure and no more.

Even among these, the range of intelligence may vary some degrees.

Impairment, effectiveness, or entire absence of any one of the senses, limits intellectual acquirements. The uniform activity of all the senses is thereby hindered.

We have in addition innumerable varieties of brain in size, quality, quantity, form; as also inherited failings or diseased conditions.

The qualities of God depend upon the qualities of the man. There has not yet been a god conceived by the human mind but greediness was the chief element. Men made gods for others, whose inferior intellect was easily swayed to believe in great benefits they were to expect, but never got, yet were continually paying for.

Every man or woman is responsible for his or her acts, and no God—supposing there to be any—can save him or her. There can be no intercession between man, and nature or nature’s laws. Every living being is held to strict accountability to the prevailing forces and the controlling elements that compose it. It is always a question of unchangeable equilibrium between the elements and the surrounding medium, as to the kind of a God we may acquire.

A man can see no farther than his sight will permit him. The organ of sight, the eye, may be so constituted that we can barely recognize the nearest object, or we may without difficulty distinguish the smallest object at a great distance. This condition, of seeing objects near, at a moderate distance, or far off, or not seeing at all, depends on the natural construction of the organ itself. The difference between the various qualities of sight is due to the proper qualities and shape of the various structures that enter into the composition of the organ of vision. Every part must be perfect—the lens, the iris, the cornea, the vitreous humor, etc. Not only must the parts be perfect, but they must also be in a healthy condition, to produce accurate vision. All this answers well for ordinary purposes in life, taking in such impressions as the apparatus of vision may from time to time receive. These are retained, stored up; thus memory of objects, the impressions of which have been recorded, may be recalled to mind either in actuality or in imagination. The education of that organ consists in the number, variety, and kind of impressions received. This constitutes the degree of educational experience, being regulated by the amount of knowledge of the greater or lesser number of objects that have been recorded through the retina on the great central nervous system.

Experience, long practice, matures and perfects the knowledge of all things that meet the eye; understanding becomes more thorough, intellect clearer, and judgment more accurate, enabling us by that means to recognize the smallest imperfection, the slightest deviation, and the most delicate shade of harmony, in color and form.

We all know how hard it is for a child to recognize shapes, objects, colors, etc. We know its long and tedious repetitions of looking at one and the same thing an infinite number of times before it will recognize it. We know that a child will repeat things, or the names of things, without knowing anything about them; or, it may know the names of things yet not recognize the things when presented to its sight. The decision or judgment whether the thing is right and proper, is left to the person who has already had experience and acquired knowledge and understanding concerning these matters. Thus the child may be directed rightly or wrongly, and its education must depend on the accuracy of the instruction received. However, the impressions received in the early part of life remain firm, and are not easily removed or eradicated, no matter how faulty, wrong, how perverse and false, they may be. The stronger and deeper the impressions and the longer they have become habituated to them, the harder it is to correct them, the more difficult to explain the errors. It is in such cases almost impossible to convince, and a tedious task to eradicate. By these early educational processes durable habits are acquired, that become persistent and remain during life; especially when no contrary influences have been brought to bear upon them to modify or correct them. It is almost an impossibility to train or educate the organ, whether sense of sight or ear, or the organ of voice, after a certain ago has been reached. An artist must start young in his artistic education if he has any desire to excel in that art—that is, if the organs of sight and touch are to be evenly balanced. So that whenever any person inherits the necessary qualities of sight and touch, and these become educated, I mean accurately trained, skill must result in excellence, and from that reach to a degree of perfection. The high art of painting becomes this man’s ideal, and this ideal his god, if the education of the other senses has not materially interfered in shading his ideal, or the moral and social qualities, giving his productions a tone or tint that may cloud or brighten his efforts, not forgetting the inherent or acquired bias of other surroundings that may influence his mind.

In the culture of music or of the ear, there is a wonderful difference in the kind of sounds a person has received as his earliest impressions, the number of sounds his scale of the notes consists of. What we term the monotonous sounds of Chinese music delight the Chinaman’s ear, and he cannot conceive how it is possible for Europeans to tolerate the immense amount of confusion that is usually displayed in an orchestra. Yet the European is delighted with our music and finds the Chinese music very dull. The same difference, but not to that degree, exists among the various European nationalities. Sprightly France thinks British music very dull, etc.

Painting is an art, but everybody cannot paint, though everybody has sight and touch. That art requires a great deal of training. The vast majority of mankind are not able even to draw an accurate outline of any object. Sight, the organ of vision, is a difficult organ to educate.

The same difficulties confront us with other organs. A degree of perfection is requisite in the construction of the organ in order to confer the necessary qualification for a higher training. And here too the education consists of receiving impressions through the organ of hearing to the brain, and these, like the impressions of sight, are recorded, that is to say, they are retained, in memory, so that we may recall them, or recognize them, when familiar sounds strike the ear. Any kind of simple sound is easily retained. A child will much more easily recognize the voice of a cat or a dog than a painting or a picture, and will remember the one but not recognize the other. There is certainly a difference in the educational capabilities of these organs. Simple sounds are easily retained and easily reproduced. A simple combination of sounds are also retained without difficulty. Thus it comes that we are all more or less imitators of sounds or simple melodies. These seem to contribute to our amusement more readily, either for our own satisfaction, or for the satisfaction of others, or both.

These reproductions of sounds or melodies do not require any mental effort or physical effort. The organ of voice may be used—that is, we attempt to sing. We may hum, or we can pucker our lips together and whistle. Each individual whistles in his own peculiar fashion, seldom two alike. They may be similar, but never alike. The fault may lie in the lips, the tongue, in the form of the opening made, the manner of blowing through the opening formed by the lips, the duration and strength of the expiration, dryness or moisture of the mouth, the thickness or flabbiness of cheeks, etc., etc. Hence it comes that every man has his whistle. You may take a class and train them to whistle a melody, say “Yankee Doodle.” Each one will produce similar successive sounds or notes, so that that particular melody is recognized, but each one will have his own “Yankee Doodle,” with peculiarities, characteristics peculiarly his own. If, for example, he is musically inclined, or has had any training in music, he or she may put a quaver or two in, as a variation, more or less. Yet each one will still own his own whistle and pipe his own “Yankee Doodle.”

That is just what happens with God. We have no God, we never had one, but we have been educated up to one. In childhood we already hear the first indistinct sound, and we don’t know whether it is the bark of a dog or the mew of a cat. By and by, as we grow older and are ready to attend Sunday-school, or some other institution where these instructions are imparted, you learn the melody of “Yankee Doodle”—rather puzzling at first, but it comes. Variations are put in to suit special cases and special occasions, and each individual member of any one class whistles his “Yankee Doodle” to the best of his ability—entirely his own; he is perfectly happy with it; it does not in any way interfere in the ordinary pursuits in life, his pleasures, his stomach, his diversion nor his business; and really it makes no difference where he is, in the street, in the factory, in the store, on the exchange, in the hovel or in the palace, he carries his “Yankee Doodle” with him. Whistle it over a birth, over a wedding, or over a funeral, whistle it wherever you will, it is the same “Yankee Doodle.” It is used on all occasions—in wars on the battlefield, or at peace on parade, etc. Thus it happens that everyone, male or female, has his or her own peculiar “Doodle.” If the man or woman or child had never heard this melody they would certainly not have known anything about it, and therefore could not have enjoyed that particular melody. He or she might have heard another melody just as simple, perhaps just as stupid, but differently constructed.

The culture of these theological ideas forms the fundamental groundwork of our educational church system, and each sect has its own method of planting its seed according to its peculiar notions. We must always bear in mind that before nerve tissue was developed, nerve force or thought could not exist; that the phenomena of imagination, or the product of a combination of ideas, the result of the impressions received by the senses, retained, and passing, connectedly or disconnectedly, through the brain, could not be effected except by experience and training.

The idea of a God or Gods impressed early in life, while the brain is being developed—the brain tissue of course—remains firmly rooted, and is very difficult to change or eradicate later in life. In case a change is ever produced, it takes place by a process of reasoning, when understanding has been acquired. The acceptance of an idea or an opinion requires little sense and no reasoning, and, indeed, no education. Children believe anything they are told, until they grow older and learn to know better. Men and women believe because they don’t know better. Accidentally they were placed in a particular groove of thinking, wherein they can glide forward, backward, round in a circle, perpetually, with ease and without interruption, without effort and without understanding. This perpetual gliding motion, within circumscribed limits, is over the same God, Holy Ghost, Christ, sin and salvation, or the reverse; no advancement or progress. Whatever has been accomplished in the affairs of men, has been done without the prescribed limits, and to that we owe our present civilization and material prosperity.

Whoever the first individual was that proposed worship, no matter how it originated, or what it was, or how crude, the thought was the product of some man’s brain. Whether he ever stood face to face with his own idea like Moses, or Mohammed, or anyone else, makes not the slightest difference. It was a man’s individual notion, prompted by fear, ignorance, or astonishment. It is the work of the brain just the same. It was their idols, images, god, gods, and men that were endowed with divinity, were held sacred, worshiped, and honored. These human inventions were supplemented by other human inventions, rites and rituals, up to this present time. We discard ideas that have been tried and found wanting for modified or new ones—as Abraham, Moses, Christ, Mohammed, Luther, Wesley, etc. The notions of these men in turn have undergone the civilizing filtering process, until there is little left but the mere sound. The Unitarians, for example, have stripped the Christian trinity down to a skeleton. They seem to say: This was once the great bugaboo: you need not be scared, it’s perfectly harmless. It has been civilized, you know. Science did it. Hell is out of fashion. Heaven we have on earth, if we have the means to do it with. We can be angels if we wish to, saints if necessary, and holy if desirable. Every man makes his own heaven, his own hell, his own angels, his own bliss, and his own god. Yes, he has his own saints and his own divinities. A woman does precisely the same thing. The imagination supplies all the necessary material for their production, selected from natural objects and put together in a manner most pleasing, acceptable, and satisfactory to each one. We make them as good as we know how, as pretty and as delightful as our taste and fancy can create them. Yet the kind of whimsical representations of the mind depends largely upon the condition of the nervous system, time of life, and our daily occupation. A young girl at puberty, whose mind is entering into that beautiful paradise of dreamland, blooming with buds of hopes and rosy wishes, experiences the delights of new sensations, creates her God, her Jesus, or her Holy Ghost, to fill the nooks of her aspirations, with all the abounding exaltation and luxuries of her creative power. Every cloud has wings, every star bright eyes that wink and beckon her to future bliss, to desires unknown yet longed for. She listens with eager ears for every sound. The zephyrs of the spring of life are wafting music to her ear. As she gazes with gushing eyes into ethereal space, she is searching the heavens for coming enchantment. Her doll, the god or the plaything of childhood, has lost its interest, and all the pretty things that formerly were so pleasing have lost their charm, as the bell and smaller infantile toy had lost theirs before the doll had nestled into her affections. Now a more realistic feeling permeates her senses, and beauties of a new and more attractive form occupy her agitated heart and brain. What is the awakening of these new emotions, the unfolding of these new sentiments, that seem to linger on the borderland of restrained passion? Is it not the dawn of love, the transitory period, that bridge of nervous exaltation that leads from puberty to maternity? She has her own god, a figure to her notion as pure, refined, and beautiful as she can picture in the visions of her waking or sleeping dreamland mind. Her sighs, her prayers, her devotions, are directed to him. This is her coming Messiah, her angel, her everything, that is to realize all her hopes and expectations. It is her God.

Can a jockey or a prizefighter have feelings like these? The former has a horsey god, the latter a muscular. The fisherman, the sailor, the soldier, each in his sphere has his or her god. Underlying all the busy activities of daily life, whatever feelings of care or pleasure each may experience, it is but upon rare occasions he puckers his lips to give vent to his devotional feelings and whistles his Yankee Doodle—his God!

Our gods are as we make them. If we are good our god is good, if we are pure our god is pure, and if our senses are subordinate to our reason and understanding our god will be one of reason and understanding, but if we are impure, bad, and evil-minded, our senses and passions ruling supreme, reason and understanding are subordinate in our god, and the evils of animal sense predominate.

Every man is his own god. As he is, so is his god. As he makes himself, so will his god be. As he protects himself, so God will protect him. As he guides himself, so will God guide him. Whatsoever a man accomplishes for himself, that will God accomplish for him. Whatsoever a man does for himself, that God will do for him. If a man supports himself, God will support him. If he neglects himself, God will neglect him. The more he depends on himself, the surer is his dependence on God. As he saves himself, so God will surely save him. As he injures himself, so will he be injured by God. As a man punishes himself, so will he be punished by God. God will help him who can help himself. If a man is true to himself, God will be true to him.

By industry, economy, and sobriety you will confer blessings on yourself; you have no need of God to bless you.

Make yourself a good man or woman, and you will surely have a good God.

A brutal man never has a meek god, a stingy man a generous god, nor a vicious man a merciful god. Every man brings himself to the level of a brute or lower, or to the highest type of nobility of man.

God never made man, but every man makes his god.

THE GATEWAYS THROUGH WHICH KNOWLEDGE ENTERS THE SENSES.

The functions of the brain.

MORALS: WHENCE THEY SPRING.

To be moral means that the organs be properly and legitimately used, in accordance with the law of nature: