entirely to resist and beat back the impact of his testimony.

I concealed my impressions, however, and told him that no doubt he
needed it, it was probably a good thing for him, I wouldn't say a word
to discourage him, but as for me, I did not need that kind of medicine.
He urged me to go to church with him, but I declined his invitation so
positively that he did not renew it. "I'll walk along with you as far as
the corner," I said, but when we came to the point of parting an impulse
came to me to go with him. "Walk slow, Dave," I said, "I'll go in and
get my coat and go to church with you." We were both surprised, he,
because he had given up all hope of my going with him, and I, because
ten seconds before I had no thought of going. I have often thought of it
since, and never without a sense of profound thankfulness for the
impulse that came to me that bright Sunday morning, at the parting of
the ways.

I went with Dave to church that morning, came back and spent the
afternoon with him and went with him again to the evening service, after
which I remained for personal conversation. Dave had exhausted his
ammunition, but the man who talked with me had been practicing the
Christian life for twenty-five years and was a man of fine personality,
culture and business experience. He knew the Gospel and also knew human
nature, and mine in particular, while I knew that he was genuine.

"Charlie," he said, "don't you think it is time for you to be a
Christian?"

"No," I answered, "I can't be a hypocrite; I can't pretend to believe
what I don't believe."