misfortune, and they meet inevitable death just as every other person. They commit the same kind of crimes as other mortals, and especially, because of their "calling," many are notoriously involved in the embezzlement of church funds. Nor does their calling protect them from the "passions of the flesh." The scandalous conduct of many "men of the cloth," in the realm of moral turpitude, often ends in murder. That is why there are so many "men of God" in our jails, and why so many have paid the supreme penalty in the death chair.

They are not free from a single rule of life; what others must endure, they likewise must experience. They cannot protect themselves from the forces of nature, and the laws of life, any more than you can. What they can do, you can do, too. Their claims of being "anointed" and "vicars of God" on earth are false and hypocritical.

If they cannot fulfill their promises while you are alive, how can they accomplish them when you are dead?

If they are impotent Here, where they could demonstrate their powers, how ridiculous are their promises to accomplish them in the "Hereafter," the mythical abode which exists only in their dishonest or deluded imagination?

The illusions of life are many and varied.

Things are not always what they seem to be, and it is well known that "appearances are deceiving."

That is why it is so difficult for some people to understand the nature of disease, and why it has taken man so long to comprehend the true conditions of life.

This deception prevails in matters of great importance, as well as in matters of little consequence.

There is no "voice of nature" to tell man that which is true and that which is false, nor to warn him of the dangers of life. He must find the truth for himself, and only after very bitter experiences.

The first piece of deception of man, after his so-called mental awakening, was his inability to conceive of any scheme of life except from his own primitive concept of limited intelligence.

He could not conceive the earth and the universe except as being "created," and from his own feeling of revenge, he could not conceive of the suffering of life except as a punishment for some "disobedience." Primitive though he be, he did not inflict pain and punishment upon the innocent. This diabolical scheme could only come from a "merciful" God.

As an illustration of this concept of primitive man in this respect is the delusion he experiences when he believes that the sun "rises and sets," when as a matter of fact, it is the sun which is "stationary" as far as the earth is concerned, and it is the earth that "moves," as Galileo so courageously maintained—at the cost of his liberty.

There is a delusion that the sun shines and the water falls from the clouds to make the flowers bloom.

To the religionist this is an indication of the "beauty" in nature.

It is nothing of the kind.

Poisonous plants and obnoxious weeds are equally nourished by the warmth of the sun and the moisture of the water.

Is this, then, an indication of the "ugliness" of nature?

Certainly not.

Both are inevitable consequences of the environment in which they live. It could not be otherwise.

Is the hippopotamus one of nature's masterpieces?

Is its face and form the perfection of beauty and grace?

Would you consider this animal a work of living art if you were responsible for it?

And yet, if this beast could talk, it would probably say that its environment was made for its benefit and that its marvelous features, particularly its mouth, was especially "designed" for its enjoyment, and that its whole body was made in the "image and likeness of God."

The fact that the hippopotamus has survived these millions of years of the evolutionary process and still thrives today is proof that it is equally as favored by Nature as is man.

To nature the blossoms of the flowers and the obnoxious weeds are identical, and the fragrance of the one and the stench of the other are equally alike; both, if they could talk, would boast of Nature's preference for them.

While, as a matter of fact, both would be wrong.

The sun does not shine to bring us its necessary light and warmth without also bringing to light some new burden for our overtroubled hearts to bear; and everything in the universe shares the same and inevitable consequences.

While it is true that it is "an ill wind that blows no good," it is also true that what is "one man's meat is another man's poison."

To Nature matters of "great importance" and matters of "little consequence" are on an equal basis. The one is not "favored" above the other. It is the survival of the fittest, and not the most desirable that survives.

When conditions are favorable to the "wild" animals, they thrive by killing the other forms of life upon which they live, and when conditions are favorable to man, he kills and lives upon the forms of life which he considers exist solely for his pleasure and benefit.

To nature the germs of disease, as a form of life, are equally as important as the other forms of life that "breathe and have their being."

When conditions are favorable to the virus of influenza and pneumonia, we have what is known as an epidemic, and when conditions are favorable to the growth of cancer, it has what we might term a "Roman Holiday" by destroying a third of our population.

Germs of disease are merely invisible wild animals.

They are forms of life that thrive upon the soil of the human body.

Prayer has about as much effect upon them as it would have upon the hungry tiger ready to devour you.

A bullet from a gun would be far more effective against the tiger, and knowledge of the nature of the germs of disease, and the discovery of the methods of destroying them, are comparable to the invention of the gun and its use against the ferocious animal.

The knowledge of the one protects you against the invisible enemies of destruction, while the invention of the gun protects you against being destroyed by the wild beasts.

The germs of disease and the hungry tiger are both determined upon the same objective—your destruction—one by eating you in "chunks" and the other by minutely gnawing you away "piecemeal."

The results are identical.

It is not necessary to moralize upon the difference.

But this we know, that in our present scheme of life, as Ingersoll so eloquently states, "The hands that help are better far than lips that pray."

Our bodies are as much "meat" for the disease germs that eat us as the animal that furnishes the meat for our appetites.

Or as Shakespeare puts it:

In a broader and more comprehensive concept of disease, Shakespeare says, it is, as if a

Who are you to say which one is the more favored in this scheme of life—the germs of disease or man—which one is preferred by nature; which one is more important than the other, since the ends accomplished are the same?

The life of the disease germ came into existence by the same process as did the life of