"Not many accidents," I answered. "And then, you know, we are always in the hands of Providence. No fear of slipping through the fingers unnoticed."
"No, Sir, certainly not," he remarked, wrapping his moral oilcloth about him again. "Have you felt any extraordinary spiritual impressions since you returned?"
"Nothing lasting, I think. Nothing that a night's sleep wouldn't take off the edge of."
"No desire to lay hands on some sin-stricken wretch and cure him of the evil that is in him?"
Now I did feel a strong desire to lay hands on this very Riley and pull out his snub nose for him; but I forbore to say so, and simply shook my head despondently.
"I know, that, if you would come to our Dispensaries and join in our exercises, you would be sensible of a softening," he observed.
"Yes, in the brain," thought I; but I still remained silent.
"You should meditate upon the value of manifestations, unknown tongues, the laying on of hands, visions, ecstasies, and such like matters," he continued.
"So I have," said I.
"And with no result?"