“Indeed! and on foot?” was his reply; “then you had better stay here till the storm is past.” He then proceeded to make some inquiries, and soon learnt my story. He had known my uncle well, and seemed on his account to take some interest in my behalf. The day passed pleasantly, and when evening came, there was quite a circle, consisting of the members of a large family, gathered around the fireside. The conversation was lively and entertaining. The host appeared to be about sixty years of age, but he had a look of calm dignity, an aspect of mingled simplicity and refinement, which made a strong impression on my mind. I had never seen any one who so much excited the feeling of reverence. I did not know his name, but I had a feeling that I was in the presence of a great man. The deference paid him by all around, tended to heighten this impression. About ten o’clock in the evening, the servants of the family were called in, and all kneeling, the aged man offered up a simple, but fervent prayer to heaven. It seemed like the earnest request of a child to a father; a child that felt as if he had offended a parent whom he loved, and in whom he confided. The scene to me was very striking. To see a man so revered by his fellow-men--a man of such wisdom and knowledge--kneeling in humiliation, like a very child, and pouring out his soul in tears of supplication before the Father of the Universe, affected me deeply. It was one of those things which was calculated to have a decisive and abiding effect. I had then heard little of religion, except as a matter of ridicule. I have since met with the scoffer and the unbeliever; but the scene I have just described, taught me that the truly great man may be a sincere, meek, pious Christian; it taught me that the loftiest intellect, the most just powers of reasoning, may lead to that simple faith which brings the learned and the great to the same level as the unlettered and the humble--submission to God. If, in after days, I have ever doubted the truth of the Bible; if I have ever felt contempt for the Christian, that good man’s prayer, that great man’s example, have speedily rebuked my folly. These things have led me to frequent and serious reflection, and, during the subsequent stages of my life, have induced me to remark, that the unbeliever, the scoffer, is usually a person of weak mind, or ill-balanced judgment. I have met many great men, who were Christians. I never have met a great man who was a doubter.