eories, and I mildly request
your proofs, you wish to imprison or hang me for doubting the
absurdities which you cannot establish!'

"He laughed genially, then took me kindly by the arm. 'Proof, my
zealous friend, proof,' he said. 'Give me proof this side of the grave
for what you believe, and then you will have converted the heathen.
And can your Catholic friend--or, shall I say enemy?--prove his
laughable doctrine of purgatory? The dead in purgatory dependent upon
the living! Why, I tell him, that smacks of Shintoism, wherein the
living feed the dead! Then he points in holy indignation to the Bible.
Bah! Cannot I prove anything I may wish from your Bible? What will
you have? Polygamy? Incest? Murder? Graft? Hand me your Bible, and
I will establish its divinity. No, my good friend. When you come to
me with proofs that you really do the works of him whom you profess
to follow, then will I gladly listen, for I, too, seek truth. But
in the present deplorable absence of proofs I take much more comfort
in the adoration of my amiable ancestors than I could in your
laughable and undemonstrable religious creeds.'

"I left his presence a saddened but chastened man, and went home to do
a little independent thinking. When I approached my Bible without the
bias of the Westminster Confession I discovered that it did serve
admirably as a wardrobe in which to hang any sort of religious
prejudice. Continued study made me see that religious faith is
generally mere human credulity. I discovered that in my pitying
contempt for those of differing belief I much resembled the Yankee who
ridiculed a Chinaman for wearing a pig-tail. 'True,' the Celestial
replied, 'we still wear the badge of our former slavery. But you
emancipated Americans, do you not wear the badge of a present and much
worse form of slavery in your domination by Tammany Hall, by your
corrupt politicians, and your organizers and protectors of crime?'

"As time passed I gradually began to feel much more kindly toward Matthew
Arnold, who said, 'Orthodox theology is an immense misunderstanding of
the Bible.' And I began likewise to respect his statement that our Bible
language is 'fluid and passing'--that much of it is the purest poetry,
beautiful and inspiring, but symbolical."

"But," broke in Jose, "you must admit that there is something awfully
wrong with the world, with--"

"Well," interrupted Hitt, "and what is it? As historical fact, that
story about Adam and Eve e