“Zenith,” said Thorwald to his wife, who was sitting with us, “this is a happy day for us all. These earth-dwellers, these men who have come to visit our world, are not strangers; they are Christians. Think of it.”
At this juncture I could not help studying the doctor’s face, for I knew this was the first time he had ever been called a Christian. In spite of the seriousness of the situation, I was obliged to indulge in a quiet smile to think he had to go all the way to Mars to be recognized in his true character. For although he would not acknowledge the divine source of it, he had imbibed a great deal of the real Christian spirit. But he had spent his life in seeking for scientific knowledge in various directions and was content, as he often said, to leave the unknowable without investigation. I wondered whether, in these novel circumstances, he would care to give voice to his agnosticism. But the doctor was honest or he was nothing, and he could not endure that Thorwald should rest under the false impression implied by his closing words. So with some effort, as I could see, he said:
“I dislike exceedingly, Thorwald, to destroy the least particle of the effect of your eloquence, but I feel compelled to say that, as for me, I have never called myself a Christian.”
“Not a Christian!” said Thorwald. “I do not understand you. But perhaps you use some other name. You surely do not mean that you turn aside from that divine being who came to the earth to save you.”
“I do not know that such a being did come to the earth.”
“What!” exclaimed Thorwald, “is there any doubt of it? Has your companion here been deceived? Must we give up our new-found joy?”
“Oh, no, no,” answered the doctor hurriedly. “I suppose it is true that a good man named Jesus once lived on the earth and taught, and died a shameful death.”
“A good man! Nothing more?”
“I don’t know,” answered the doctor.
“What do you believe?”