“Nothing at all queer about that,” was the quick reply. “Common humanity should dictate such deeds. If I myself wanted a favor, I’d not go to any Christian for it; I’d rather tackle a bartender or a gambler.”
“Well, Dr. T–––, of the Methodist Church, has heard of you,” remarked his questioner, “and he says he would like to meet you for an hour or so before you leave the city.”
“But I’ve no desire to meet any preacher, though if it will afford the gentleman any pleasure, I will gladly do it for that reason and no other. What do you suppose he wants?”
The intermediary arranged a time of meeting, and after introducing the men, left the “eagle eye” in the pleasant study of the minister, a pastor of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South. After a few 52 minutes of easy conversation, the minister abruptly cut all Gordian knots and said: “Mr.–––, are you a Christian?”
“No, sir, not so you can notice it.”
“Why are you not?”
“Why should I be?”
“It gives to every one who embraces true religion a better, broader, worthier view and conception of life.”
“Wherein, mister?”
“It puts purpose into his life and interprets the end to which he is tending.”