Ille.—"Yes; that is my opinion."
Hic.—"What do you believe, then? or do you believe in anything?"
Ille.—"Yes; I believe firmly in an all-powerful and omniscient God."
Hic.—"How do you know He exists?"
Ille.—"Because my reason tells me so."
Hic.—"Your reason does not tell you so, good sir. It merely tells you that something supermundane exists, but cannot tell you whether it be one God or two Gods, or a hundred Gods, or of what nature are these Gods—whether spirits, or stars, or trees, or animals, or, in fine, any object you can name, for paganism has imagined a Deity in everything, which proves what I assert. You only believe in one God, because you sucked in the doctrine with your mother's milk." [Footnote: The history of all philosophy shows that this is psychologically true. Even Lucian satirises the philosophers of his age who see God or Gods in numbers, dogs, geese, trees, and other things. But monotheistic Christianity has preserved us for nearly 2000 years from these aberrations of philosophy. However, as the authority of Christianity declined, the pagan tendency again became visible; until at length, in the Hegelian school, we have fallen back helplessly into the same pantheism which we left 2000 years ago. In short, what Kant asserts is perfectly true: that the existence of God cannot be proved from reason. For the highest objects of all cognition—God, Freedom, and Immortality—can as little be evolved from the new philosophy as beauty from the disgusting process of decomposition. And yet more impossible is it to imagine that this feeble Hegelian pantheism should ever become the crown and summit of all human thought, and final resting-place for all human minds. Reason, whether from an indwelling instinct, or from an innate causality-law, may assert that something supermundane exists, but can know nothing more and nothing further. So we see the absurdity of chattering in our journals and periodicals of the progress of reason. The advance has been only formal, not essential. The formal advance has been in printing, railroads, and such like, in which direction we may easily suppose progression will yet further continue. But there has been no essential advance whatever. We know as little now of our own being, of the being of God, or even of that of the smallest infusoria, as in the days of Thales and Anaximander. In short, when life begins, begins also our feebleness; "Therefore," says Paul, "we walk by faith, not by sight." Yet these would-be philosophers of our day will only walk by sight, not by faith, although they cannot see into anything—not even into themselves.]
Ille.—"How did it happen, then, that Abraham arrived at the knowledge of the one God, and called on the name of the Lord?"
Hic.—"Do you compare yourself with Abraham? Have you ever studied Hebrew?"
Ille.—"A little. In my youth I read through the book of Genesis."
Hic.—"Good! then you know that the Hebrew word for name is Shem?"