A great masterpiece of literature, which shows in a most fascinating way how many things a man can contrive and put together and how many useful article he can manufacture, even though never trained to it, is Defoe's tale of the ship wrecked Crusoe. He made his house, his clothes; he grew and prepared his own grain for food, and slew his own meat He arrived at length at a state of affluence and luxury which every real boy has envied and all that was the work of one poor, untrained, shipwrecked man. But Robinson Crusoe created nothing. Without the raw material he would have died.
Christian doctrine tells a man that with all his intelligence and cunning he could not have made the earth on which he lives—not to speak of himself. That there is an almighty though invisible God who has made him and his world is a truth that at once commends itself to the conscience of man. There is that in man, however he may play with ideas, which says, the moment this truth is presented to him: "That is true, that is as it ought to be, as it must be. 'It is he that hath made us, and not we ourselves' " (Ps. 100:3).