"Mr. Parr," he replied, "I have been a friend of yours, and I am a friend
still. And what I am going to tell you is not only in the hope that
others may benefit, but that your own soul may be saved. I mean that
literally--your own soul. You are under the impression that you are a
Christian, but you are not and never have been one. And you will not be
one until your whole life is transformed, until you become a different
man. If you do not change, it is my duty to warn you that the sorrow and
suffering, the uneasiness which you now know, and which drive you on, in
search of distraction, to adding useless sums of money to your fortune
--this suffering, I say, will become intensified. You will die in the
knowledge of it, and live on after, in the knowledge of it."

In spite of himself, the financier drew back before this unexpected
blast, the very intensity of which had struck a chill of terror in his
inmost being. He had been taken off his guard,--for he had supposed the
day long past--if it had ever existed--when a spiritual rebuke would
upset him; the day long past when a minister could pronounce one with
any force. That the Church should ever again presume to take herself
seriously had never occurred to him. And yet--the man had denounced him
in a moment of depression, of nervous irritation and exasperation against
a government which had begun to interfere with the sacred liberty of its
citizens, against political agitators who had spurred that government on.
The world was mad. No element, it seemed, was now content to remain in
its proper place. His voice, as he answered, shook with rage,--all the
greater because the undaunted sternness by which it was confronted seemed
to reduce it to futility.

"Take care!" he cried, "take care! You, nor any other man, clergyman or
no clergyman, have any right to be the judge of my conduct."