He renewed the conversation by asking me whether I had really staked my immortal existence upon the promise of that obscure, uneducated Jew, twenty centuries in his grave,--that plain man who lived a fanatic’s life, and died a felon’s death, and whose teachings had given rise to such bigotry and error upon the earth. I answered that I had never been what is commonly called a devout person, not having a spiritual temperament, but that I had not held our Master responsible for the mistakes of either his friends or his foes, and that the greatest regret I had brought with me into Heaven was that I had been so unworthy to bear His blessed name. He next inquired of me, if I truly believed that I owed my entrance upon my present life to the interposition of Him of whom we spoke. “Sir,” I said, “you touch upon sacred nerves. I should find it hard to tell you how utterly I believe that immortality is the gift of Jesus Christ to the human soul.” “I believed this on earth,” I added, “I believe it in Heaven. I do not _know_ it yet, however. I am a new-comer; I am still very ignorant. No one has instructed me. I hope to learn ‘syllable by syllable.’ I am impatient to be taught; yet I am patient to be ignorant till I am found worthy to learn. It may be, that you, sir, who evidently are of a higher order of life than ours, are sent to enlighten me?” My companion smiled, neither dissenting from, nor assenting to my question, and only asked me in reply, if I had yet spoken with the Lord. I said that I had not even seen Him; nay, that I had not even asked to see Him. My friend inquired why this was, and I told him frankly that it was partly because I was so occupied at first--nay, most of the time until I was called below. “I had not much room to think. I was taken from event to event, like a traveler. This matter that you speak of seemed out of place in every way at that time.” Then I went on to say that my remissness was owing partly to a little real self-distrust, because I feared I was not the kind of believer to whom He would feel quickly drawn; that I felt afraid to propose such a preposterous thing as being brought into His presence; that I supposed, when He saw fit to reveal Himself to me, I should be summoned in some orderly way, suitable to this celestial community; that, in fact, though I had cherished this most sweet and solemn desire, I had not mentioned it before, not even to my own father who conducted me to this place. “I have not spoken of it,” I said, “to any body but to you.”