“But do you not know,” Tom Hammond interrupted, “that according to every record of history as well as the New Testament, all Christendom has believed, for all the ages since, that the Messiah came nearly two thousand years ago?”
“The Nazarene?”
There was as much or more of pity than scorn in the voice of the Jew as he uttered the word.
“How could He be the Messiah, sir?” he went on. “Could any good thing come out of Nazareth? Besides, our Messiah is to redeem Israel, to deliver them from the hand of the oppressor, and to gather again into one nation all our scattered race. No, no! a thousand times No! The Nazarene could not be our Messiah!”
Turning quickly to Hammond, he asked, “Are you a Christian, sir?”
For a moment Tom Hammond was startled by the suddenness, the definiteness, of the question. He found no immediate word of reply.
“You are a Gentile, of course, Mr. Hammond,” the Jew went on; “but are you a Christian? For it is a curious fact that I find very few Gentiles whom I have met, even professed Christians, and fewer still who ever pretend to live up to their profession.”
Tom Hammond recovered himself sufficiently to say:
“Yes, I am a Gentile, of course, and I suppose I am—er——”
It struck him, as he floundered in the second half of his reply, as being very extraordinary that he should find it difficult to state why he supposed he was a Christian. While he hesitated the Jew went on: