I proceeded to Urbana. Met a man hobbling along on one leg. He had heard me preach somewhere, and abruptly said:
“If all are to be saved, what is the use of being religious?”
“I see you have only one leg. I suppose you would like to have two sound limbs.”
“That I should. I would freely give my farm for a leg made of flesh and bone, instead of this concern made of wood, iron and leather.”
“You remarked a moment since, that you hoped you were a Christian, and expected to go to heaven when you left this world. Do you expect to be a one-legged cripple in heaven?”
“Of course not; all will have perfect bodies there.”
“Well, then, what is the use of your troubling yourself about your lameness in this world; you will be all right in heaven; you can hobble out your three score years and ten, and then all be well with you.”
“But that is no reason why I should not have a sound body in this world. I want to enjoy all the blessings I possibly can in this world.”
“My friend, you have answered your question. You want a whole limb in this world, if you do expect one in the next. So, we should be religious in this world if we do expect to partake of God’s blessing in heaven, for a religious life only is a happy life, a heavenly life.”
I then proceeded to Perrysville, Ind., in the western part of the state. This was the end of my journey, as I did not return to Cincinnati. I had traveled full eight hundred miles since I left Cincinnati, and delivered eighty-eight discourses.