His presence is as extensive as space. What is space? An infinite spherical vacuum. He created this speck of dirt and the human species for his glory, and with the deliberate design of making nine-tenths of our species miserable forever, for his glory. This is the doctrine of Christian Theologians in general, ten to one. Now, my friend, can prophecies or miracles convince you or me, that infinite benevolence, wisdom and power, created and preserves for a time, innumerable millions, to make them miserable forever for his own glory? Wretch! what is his glory? Is he ambitious? Does he want promotion? Is he vain-tickled with adulation? Exulting and triumphing in his power and the sweetness of his vengeance? Pardon me, my Maker, for these awful questions. My answer to them is always ready. I believe no such things. My adoration of the Author of the Universe is too profound and too sincere. The love of God and his creation, delight, joy, triumph, exultation in my own existence, though but an atom, a molecule organique in the universe, are my religion. Howl, snarl, bite, ye Calvinistic, ye Athanasian divines, if you will. Ye will say I am no Christian. I say ye are no Christians, and there the account is balanced. Yet I believe all the honest men among you are Christians, in my sense of the word. When I was at college, I was a metaphysician, at least I thought myself such. And such men as Lock, Hemenway and West, thought me so too; for we were forever disputing though in great good humor. When I was sworn as an Attorney, in 1758, in Boston, though I lived in Braintree, I was in a low state of health--thought in great danger of a consumption; living on milk, vegetable pudding and water. Not an atom of meat, or a drop of spirit. My next neighbor, my cousin, my friend Dr. Savil, was my physician. He was anxious about me, and did not like to take the sole responsibility of my recovery. He invited me to a ride. I mounted my horse and rode with him to Hingham, on a visit to Dr. Ezekiel Hersey, a physician of great fame, who felt my pulse, looked in my eyes, heard Savil describe my regimen and course of medicine, and then pronounced his oracle: "Persevere, and as sure as there is a God in Heaven you will recover."