What is God?  A question that we put to children, and that philosophers have much trouble to answer.  We know the age at which a child ought to learn to read, to sing, to dance, to begin Latin or geometry.  It is only in religion that you take no account of his capacity.  He scarcely hears what you say, before he is asked, What is God?  It is at the same instant, from the same lips, that he learns that there are ghosts, goblins, were-wolves—­and a God. (Sec.25.)

The diversity of religious opinions has led the deists to invent an argument that is perhaps more singular than sound.  Cicero, having to prove that the Romans were the most warlike people in the world, adroitly draws this conclusion from the lips of their rivals.  Gauls, to whom if to any, do you yield the palm for courage?  To the Romans.  Parthians, after you, who are the bravest of men?  The Romans.  Africans, whom would you fear, if you were to fear any?  The Romans.  Let us interrogate the religionists in this fashion, say the deists.  Chinese, what religion would be the best, if your own were not the best?  Naturalism.  Mussulmans, what faith would you embrace, if you abjured Mahomet?  Naturalism.  Christians, what is the true religion, if it be not Christianity?  Judaism.  But you, O Jews, what is the true religion, if Judaism be false?  Naturalism.  Now those, continues Cicero, to whom the second place is awarded by unanimous consent, and who do not in turn concede the first place to any—­it is those who incontestably deserve that place. (Sec.62.)

* * * * *

In all this we notice one constant characteristic of the eighteenth century controversy about revealed religion.  The assailant demands of the defender an answer to all the intellectual or logical objections that could possibly be raised by one who had never been a Christian, and who refused to become a Christian until these objections could be met.  No account is taken of the mental conditions by which a creed is engendered and limited; nor of the train of historic circumstance which prepares men to receive it.  The modern apologist escapes by explaining religion; the apologist of a hundred years ago was required to prove it.  The end of such a method was inevitably a negation.  The objective propositions of a creed with supernatural pretensions can never be demonstrated from natural or rationalistic premisses.  And if they could be so demonstrated, it would only be on grounds that are equally good for some other creeds with the same pretensions.  The sceptic was left triumphantly weighing one revealed system against another in an equal balance.[36]