Lest I be misunderstood, I will say at the outset that I do not believe in a God.

The belief in a God is still generally accepted, not because of the existence of one, but for the reason that it is the easiest way to account for our condition. But in the light of scientific discoveries and demonstrations, such a belief is unfounded and utterly untenable to-day. Yet the word "God," and even the word "Nature," must often be used to describe that condition which the brain of man has not yet been able to analyze fully and scientifically. One ridiculous conception of God that is believed by a multitude of people, is that of a massive being, sitting in a marble chamber studded with gold and lighted with glistening crystals. Do those who believe in such a creature ever consider him taking a bath—and in what? Or of eating his breakfast—and of what it consists?

If there were a God, and the world were governed with stern justice, tempered to our feeble intelligence, existence might become tolerable, but as it is, with a so-called God "ruling above," the earth is an abominable place and life a long series of terrifying torments. If I were to advocate a belief, or faith, in a God, I would seek the embodiment of those things diametrically opposite to the attributes of the popular God of to-day. Such a creature is not worthy the sacrifice of ourselves and our thoughts.

Let us examine and investigate the system and arrangement of the world—that is, that portion of which we are a part and which so vitally concerns us.

The result of our most extensive study and labor shows us that the earth, after an illimitable duration of time, has gradually attained its present peculiar development. In other words, Nature has taken millions of years to produce the earth as it is now formed; and if it were made particularly for human beings it is not yet completed, for we still find spots, aye, vast areas, where human life is incapable of subsisting. The climate is either too hot or too cold; there is too much water or too little moisture; the means of cultivation are too meager or utterly unobtainable.

In short, after eons of labor, Nature has failed to be able to present to every one of us, for our habitation, a parcel of earth commodious and comfortable enough to be perfectly desirable for life and its living.

Surely, if the earth were made for our benefit, Nature has been not only a very poor provider, but a very thoughtless parent.

Some say that man is Nature's best product, that the earth was made for us, that we are particularly selected by God, and that a certain race is his chosen people. But that is not true. The Jews are no more God's chosen people than the jay is his chosen bird, or the mosquito his chosen insect.

It is not true that Nature particularly works for us—facts prove the contrary.

Facts prove that we are nothing but an undesirable by-product, to make our way and to live our life as best we can within a cruelly turbulent space, imprisoned by invisible, impenetrable walls of limitation.

No, it is not true that our life is favored by Nature. After we build our homes, make our cities and add improvements, what happens? Nature, with her forceful winds, blows them down; her cruel storms and rising floods wash them away as so much refuse, and a tremor of the earth destroys not only our homes but ourselves also, leaving no traces of our efforts, treasures and sacred ties.

Even as individuals we "curse God" for the shortcomings with which we are afflicted. The exceedingly stout person, one who is "in his own way" curses God for making him so stout. The thin person has a similar grievance. Those who are too large and those who are too small are equally dissatisfied. The shape of an eye, the curve of the mouth, a blemish here, an impediment there, is the direct cause of poignant embarrassment. Organs or dimensions too unsightly and unsatisfactory are productive of continual worry and torment throughout our lives. The blind, the deaf, the dumb and the crippled have forever a curse for God upon their lips.

We inhabit the air, with a density of fifteen pounds to the square inch, a mixture of dirt and water, in the same manner that the fish inhabits the water and the worm the earth. Were we beings of a superior type, Nature would have made us so versatile that we should be able to accustom ourselves to any condition, and survive in any climate. But despite all our improvements, despite all man's efforts to avoid and escape the conditions of Nature, many of us freeze to death in winter and become prostrate from the heat of summer. If it were true that the earth were purposely made and existing for us there would be "no flowers born to blush unseen and waste their sweetness on the desert air."

We, ourselves, scientists tell us, are the result of a long series of evolutionary development. They tell us that Nature started with a single cell of protoplasm, a single cell of living organism, and produced the present human species after the life and death of an illimitable number of forms through the stages of countless ages, not exempting those lives from the fear, torture and misery that are still so essential a part of the scheme of life. Why impose so cruel and wasteful a condition upon those numberless billions that have lived before us, since nothing but eternal death was gained by their existence?

Surely, Nature is a poor architect and builder, after taking so much material and so much time, to make such an incomplete place for such an outlandish form to rule and occupy. If we were given the same opportunity (that is, you and I), with all the power and resources of Nature, to build a habitable place, and mold a living something to inhabit it, our results would be ten thousand times better than that which circles the scope and boundary of our lives, with the incomprehensible physical form with which we breathe and manifest life.

Truthfully, and without the slightest element of egotism, I should be ashamed of my efforts were I to present as my handiwork nothing better than the level and plane which Nature has attained.

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