to do them? Or thinks he could if he
tried? The good church Fathers from the third century down could
figure out that the world was created on the night before the
twenty-third of October, four thousand and four B. C., and that Adam's
fall occurred about noon of the day he was created. They could dilate
_ad nauseam_ on transubstantiation, the divine essence, and the
mystery of the Trinity; they could astonishingly allegorize the Bible
legends, and read into every word a deep, hidden, incomprehensible
sense; they could prove to their own satisfaction that Adam composed
certain of the Psalms; that Moses wrote every word of the Pentateuch,
even the story of his own death and burial; and that the entire Bible
was delivered by God to man, word for word, just as it stands,
including the punctuation. And yet, not one of them followed the
simple commands of Jesus closely enough to enable him to cure a
toothache, to say nothing of generally healing the sick and raising
the dead! Am I not right?"

"Yes--I am sorry to have to admit," murmured Jose.

"Well," went on the explorer, "that's what removed me from the
Presbyterian ministry. It is not Christianity that is a dismal
failure, but men's interpretation of it. Of true Christianity, I
confess I know little. Oh, I'm a fine preacher! And yet I am
representative of thousands of others, like myself, all at sea. Only,
the others are either ashamed or afraid to make this confession. But,
in my case, my daily bread did not depend upon my continuance in the
pulpit."

"But supposing that it had--"

"The result doubtless would have been the same. The orthodox faith was
utterly failing to supply me with a satisfying interpretation of
life, and it afforded me no means of escaping the discords of mundane
existence. It could only hold out an undemonstrable promise of a life
after death, provided I was elected, and provided I did not too
greatly offend the Creator during the few short years that I might
spend on earth. If I did that, then, according to the glorious
Westminster Confession, I was doomed--for we are not so fortunate as
you in having a purgatory from which we may escape through the
suffrages of the faithful," he concluded with a chuckle.

Jose knew, as he listened, that his own Church would hold this man a
blasphemer. The man by his own confession was branded a Protestant
heretic. And he, Jose, was _anathema_ for listening to these sincere,
brutally frank confidences, and