That afternoon the preacher spoke as if his soul were awed, yet lifted to heavenly heights, by the presence of God and Christ. Reading as his text the words, "Thou thoughtest that I was altogether such an one as thyself" (Ps. l. 21), he showed, first, the false notions which men form of God, and then unfolded, with great power and pungency, the Scripture revelation of the one infinite, personal, living, holy, just, and gracious Jehovah. This was the very theme which Mr. Hume wished most of all not to hear. That very name, Jehovah, of all the names applied to God, was most disagreeable; it suggested the idea of the living God who manifested himself in olden time and wrought wonders before the eyes of men. But the infidel, with his active mind, could not help listening, nor could he loosen his conscience from the grasp of the truth. Yet he could fight against it, and this he did, determined that he would not believe in such a God--a God who held him accountable, and would bring him into judgment in the last great day. In this state of mind he dropped into Deacon Gregory's store. Deacon Gregory was accustomed to obey Paul's injunction to Timothy: "Be instant in season, out of season; reprove, rebuke, exhort with all long suffering and doctrine." Having taken Mr. Hume's orders for groceries, he said, "I was glad to see you at church yesterday, Mr. Hume. How were you interested in the sermon?" "I like Mr. Wilton," answered Mr. Hume; "I think him a very earnest and good man." "But were you not interested and pleased with the discourse? It seems to me that I shall never lose the impression of God's existence and character which that discourse made upon me. I almost felt that Mr. Wilton spoke from inspiration." "I suppose he was inspired just as much as the writers of that book which men call 'the Bible.'" "But can you wholly get rid of the conviction that the Bible is the word of God, written by holy men inspired by the Holy Spirit?" "You know, Deacon Gregory, that I do not believe what you profess to believe. The book of Nature is my Bible. I agree with old Cicero: I count Nature the best guide, and follow her as if she were a god, and wish no other." Deacon Gregory had never read Cicero, and of course did not attempt to show, as he might otherwise have done, that Cicero did not mean to deny the existence of a living, personal God, who governs the world. "But," said he, "does not the book of Nature--your Bible, as you call it--have something to say of God? Does it not speak of an infinitely wise and good Creator and Governor? Do not the works of Nature tell of the same God whose being and character were preached to us yesterday from the Holy Scriptures?"