explain that it was not probable.

"A Roman Catholic?" he asked, in a not unfriendly voice.

I shook my head, but nothing would discourage him.

"Not a dissenter!" he exclaimed, with a sudden hardening of his genial
face.

I shook my head again.

"Ah, a little lax--a little remiss!" he said playfully, and with an
expression of relief. "Professional men get into these ways. They
have much to distract them. At least, you cling fast, no doubt, to the
fundamental truths of Christianity?"

"I believe from the bottom of my heart," said I, "that the Founder of
it was the best and sweetest character of whom we have any record in the
history of this planet."

But instead of soothing him, my conciliatory answer seemed to be taken
as a challenge. "I trust," said he severely, "that your belief goes
further than that. You, are surely prepared to admit that He was an
incarnation of the God-head."

I began to feel like the old badger in his hole who longs to have a
scratch at the black muzzle which is so eager to draw him.

"Does it not strike you," I said, "that if He were but a frail mortal
like ourselves, His life assumes a much deeper significance? It then
becomes a standard towards which we might work. If, on the other hand,
He was intrinsically of a different nature to ourselves, then His
existence loses its point, since we and He start upon a different basis.
To my mind it is obvious that such a supposition takes away the beauty
and the moral of His life. If He was divine then He COULD not sin, and
there was an end of the matter. We who are not divine and can sin, have
little to learn from a life like that."

"He triumphed over sin," said my visitor, as if a text or a phrase were
an argument.

"A cheap triumph!" I said. "You remember that Roman emperor who used to
descend into the arena fully armed, and pit himself against some poor
wretch who had only a leaden foil which would double up at a thrust.
According to your theory of your Master's life, you would have it that
He faced the temptations of this world at such an advantage that they
were only harmless leaden things, and not the sharp assailants which we
find them. I confess, in my own case, that my sympathy is as strong when
I think of His weaknesses as of His wisdom and His virtue. They come
more home to me, I suppose, since I am weak myself."

"Perhaps you would be good enough to tell me what has impressed you as
weak in His conduct?" asked my visitor st