Not long since, a gentleman was traveling in one of the counties of Virginia, and about the close of the day stopped at a public house to obtain refreshment and spend the night.  He had been there but a short time, before an old man alighted from his gig, with the apparent intention of becoming his fellow guest at the same house.

As the old man drove up, he observed that both the shafts of his gig were broken, and that they were held together by withes, formed from the bark of a hickory sapling.  Our traveler observed further that he was plainly clad, that his knee buckles were loosened, and that something like negligence pervaded his dress.  Conceiving him to be one of the honest yeomanry of our land, the courtesies of strangers passed between them, and they entered the tavern.  It was about the same time, that an addition of three or four young gentlemen was made to their number; most, if not all of them, of the legal profession.

As soon as they became conveniently accommodated, the conversation was turned, by one of the latter, upon the eloquent harangue which had that day been displayed at the bar.  It was replied by the other that he had witnessed, the same day, a degree of eloquence no doubt equal, but it was from the pulpit.  Something like a sarcastic rejoinder was made as to the eloquence of the pulpit, and a warm and able altercation ensued, in which the merits of the Christian religion became the subject of discussion.  From six o’clock until eleven, the young champions wielded the sword of argument, adducing with ingenuity and ability everything that could be said pro and con.

During this protracted period, the old gentleman listened with the meekness and modesty of a child, as if he were adding new information to the stores of his own mind; or perhaps he was observing, with a philosophic eye, the faculties of the youthful mind, and how new energies are evolved by repeated action; or perhaps, with patriotic emotion, he was reflecting upon the future destinies of his country, and on the rising generation, upon whom those future destinies must devolve; or, most probably, with a sentiment of moral and religious feeling, he was collecting an argument which no art would be “able to elude, and no force to resist.”  Our traveler remained a spectator, and took no part in what was said.

At last one of the young men, remarking that it was impossible to combat with long and established prejudices, wheeled around, and with some familiarity exclaimed, “Well, my old gentleman, what think you of these things?” “If,” said the traveler, “a streak of vivid lightning had at that moment crossed the room, their amazement could not have been greater than it was from what followed.”  The most eloquent and unanswerable appeal that he had ever heard or read, was made for nearly an hour by the old gentleman.  So perfect was his recollection, that every argument urged against the Christian religion was met in the order in which it was advanced.  Hume’s sophistry on the subject of miracles, was, if possible, more perfectly answered than it had already been done by Campbell.  And in the whole lecture there was so much simplicity and energy, pathos and sublimity, that not another word was uttered.