“I don’t deny, they are worth studying,” said Mr. Gear.  “I only assert that they ought to be studied as any other books of noble thoughts, intermingled with grossest errors, should be studied.”

“The words of Jesus,” I continued more slowly than before “have changed the life and character of more than half the world, that half which alone possesses modern civilization, that half with which you and I, Mr. Gear, are most concerned.  There was wonderful power in the doctrines of Buddha.  But Buddhism has relapsed everywhere into the grossest of idolatries.  There is a wonderful wealth of moral truth in the ethics of Confucius.  But the ethics of Confucius have not saved the Chinese nation from stagnation and death.  There is wonderful life-awaking power in the writings of Plato.  But they are hid from the common people in a dead language, and when a Prof.  Jowett gives them glorious resurrection in our vernacular, they are still hid from the common people by their subtlety.  Every philosopher ought to study Plato.  Every scholar may profitably study Buddha and Confucius.  But every intelligent American ought to study the life and words of Jesus of Nazareth.”

“I do,” said Mr. Gear.  “I do not disesteem Jesus of Nazareth.  I honor him as first among men.  I revere his noble life, his sublime death, and his incomparable teachings.  I have read his life in the Gospels; I have read it as Strauss gives it; and as Renan gives it; and now I am devoting my Sunday afternoons to reading it as Pressense gives it.  You see I am an impartial student.  I read all sides.”

“You think Christ’s life and teaching worth your study then?” I said inquiringly.

“Worth my study?  Of course I do,” said he.  “I am an infidel, Mr. Laicus; at least people commonly call me so, and think it very dreadful.  But I do not mean to be ignorant of the Bible or of Christianity as Jesus Christ gave it to us.  It needs winnowing.  We have grown wiser and know better about many things since then.  But it is well worth the studying and will be for many years to come.”

“All I ask of you,” said I, “is to let me to study it with you.”

He made no answer; but looked me steadily in the eye as if to try and fathom some occult design.

“No,” said I, “that is not all.  As I came by Joe Poole’s I saw half a dozen of the men from your shop lounging about the door.  They could spend the afternoon to better purpose, Mr. Gear, in studying the life and words of Jesus.”

“I know they could,” he said.  “No man can say that any word or influence of mine helped carry them to Joe Poole’s bar.”

“Will you lend your word and influence with mine to summon them away?” said I.

He made no answer.

“I saw a dozen others engaged at a game of ball upon the green as I passed by.”

“A harmless sport, Mr. Laicus, and as well done on Sunday as on any other holiday.”

“Perhaps,” said I.  “But an hour and a half from their Sunday in studying the life and words of Jesus would do them no harm, and detract nothing from their holiday.  They do not study so hard throughout the week that the brain labor would be injurious.”