that something ever has been, but the point of difference lies here. The
Universalist says, matter is the eternal something, and asks proof of
its beginning to be. The Theist insists that matter is not the eternal
something, but that God is; and when pushed for an account of what he
means by God, he coolly answers, a Being, having nothing in common with
anything, who nevertheless, by his Almighty will, created everything. It
may without injustice be affirmed, that the sincerest and strongest
believers in this mysterious Deity are often tormented by doubts, and,
if candid, must own they believe in the existence of many things with a
feeling much closer allied to certainty than they do in the reality of
their 'Great First Cause, least understood.' No man's faith in the
inconceivable is ever half so strong as his belief in the visible and
tangible.

But few among professional mystifiers will admit this, obviously true as
it is. Some have done so. Baxter, of pious memory, to wit, who said, _I
am not so foolish as to pretend my certainty be greater than it is,
because it is dishonour to be less certain; nor will I by shame be kept
from confessing those infirmities which those have as much as I, who
hypocritically reproach with them._ MY CERTAINTY THAT I AM A MAN IS
BEFORE MY CERTAINTY THAT THERE IS A GOD.

So candid was Richard Baxter, and so candid are _not_ the most part of
our priests, who would fain have us think them altogether _un_sceptical.
Nevertheless, they write abundance of books to convince us 'God is,'
though they never penned a line in order to convince us, we actually
are, and that to disbelieve we are is a 'deadly sin.'

Could God be known, could his existence be made 'palpable to feeling as
to sight,' as unquestionably is the existence of matter, there would be