This discourse stirred the mind of Mr. Hume in a wonderful manner. The story of God’s judgments upon wicked men and dissolute cities he had read many a time in his boyhood, but the rapid review of them by Mr. Wilton seemed to bring them up with a lifelike vividness. And that view of the forces of Nature, as allied with the moral laws of God to work out wrath upon evil-doers, was new to him, but his own mind quick as thought suggested many more illustrations than Mr. Wilton had time to give. He remembered that all manner of vices—drunkenness, lust, devotion to gay, sensual pleasures—bring ruin to men. He had noticed that the saddest faces are those of worn-out lovers of pleasure, and he knew that lovers of pleasure are very quickly worn out—that five years of sensuality will waste the powers of life more than fifty years of good work. He knew also that infidels and blasphemers, whatever else they might be, were unhappy men, and died joyless, foreboding deaths. He was not exactly angry, but his heart rebelled against thus being held by the mighty power of God, willing or unwilling, and against the thought that even Nature herself had conspired against him. It seemed to him hard that he was born into such a world, and that there was no escape from it. He did not consider at the moment that God and his works were against him only because he was against God, and that by submitting to God in loving obedience all the forces of God’s world and God’s providential government would turn in his favor—“that all things work together for good to them that love God.”

At length better thoughts came to him. “I must know,” he said to himself, “whether these things are so. I have never examined the subject to discover the truth, but have tried to find reasons for disbelieving the Bible and denying the gospel. I ought to look at the other side. If Nature and Nature’s God have blessings in store for the willing and the obedient, why should not I know this and receive my share?”

Under the impulse of thoughts like these he formed the sudden resolution to join Mr. Wilton’s Bible class—that is, if he would receive him willingly, of which he had no small doubt. Coming directly forward at the proper time, he said to Mr. Wilton:

“I have learned what your class is studying, and should like, I hardly know why, to join your class for a few Sundays, if you are entirely willing.”

Mr. Wilton, of course, did not know the exact state of Mr. Hume’s mind; he did not know but that he came with a contentious spirit to bring up objections and propose hard questions; but he felt certain that, whatever his state of mind, the Spirit of God was bringing him to take this step. He had prayed for him; in prayer his soul had travailed in pain for him; and he felt that by way of the throne of grace he had obtained a hold upon Mr. Hume—that the Holy Spirit had bound a cord between them which could not be broken. He believed, therefore, that, whether he came penitent or angry, good would result from his coming. He gave him, therefore, a hearty welcome.

“I am not only willing,” he said, “but very glad, to have you come; and as I know that you have kept yourself informed of the latest phases of modern science, I hope we shall have your help in unfolding the subject which we are engaged in studying. I think you will be able to do us good.”

“Your kind welcome ought certainly to incline me to do anything which I can to help the interest of your study, but I only ask the privilege of sitting with your class as a silent listener.”

The Sunday-school opened as usual, and the classes entered upon their work.

“You have come in, Mr. Hume, at just the proper point in the progress of our lessons,” said Mr. Wilton. “We have been preparing the way by a brief review of the laws of heat. We have gone over the effects of heat; the conduction, radiation, and convection of heat; thermal reflection, absorption, and transmission; specific and latent heat. We have tried to form a conception of the existence and operations of heat according to the dynamic theory that heat is a mode of atomic motion. This review would have had little interest to you. We are now prepared to look at the goodness and wisdom of God in the management of heat. We are not trying to prove the existence of a Creator and Governor—we are only looking at the mighty and wise works of that God in whom we already believe. We shall find the works of God planned and wrought out with wondrous skill, and that wonderful skill is employed in the interest of goodness. God has planned and wrought for the benefit of his creatures. His wisdom and goodness are exhibited on the grandest scale and in gigantic proportions. This is all that is needed practically to demonstrate the existence of God. A good conscience does the rest. Being once assured that there is a Creator, a good conscience leaps to the conclusion that we ought to obey and serve him. Nay, the very work and existence of a conscience implies a divine Lawgiver and Ruler. To a good conscience a God is a necessity. But as we are not now attempting to show that there is a God, but to study his works, we will pass this point.

“With respect to the subject before us, let us first notice that heat is a necessity to the world and to man, and that God has made ample provision for that need. What the condition of the world would be without heat we can only conjecture. In the polar regions a natural temperature of seventy degrees below zero has been observed. At this temperature all the water upon the globe would turn to ice hard as adamant; all vegetation would cease, and with the disappearance of vegetable life all animal life must perish. The whole earth would be a frozen, lifeless, silent waste in the midst of silent space. Some lines in Byron’s picture of universal darkness would fitly describe the state of the world: