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." "What is there that you can't believe?" "Well, there is the Bible, for instance." "Don't you believe the Bible?" "About as I believe Robinson Crusoe." "Do you think the trouble is with the Bible, or with yourself? Don't you think that, if you had faith, as a Christian man, the Bible would be a different book to you?" "That looks easy; of course, if I had faith I would be just as you are. But how can a man believe what he does not believe?" "Did you ever hear about prayer?" "Yes, I have heard something about it." "Don't you think that there is something in it?" "Yes, I am inclined to think there is." (I could not honestly deny it in the light of my experience.) "Well, don't you think that if you were to pray to God for faith, God would give it to you?" This question touched the spring of memory, and conscience showed me what it thought of me. I was ashamed of my littleness and of my unscientific attitude of mind in wilfully ignoring the greatest facts of my experience, and I was also ashamed of my ingratitude. And so, in an unguarded moment, that is, in a moment when my will was off its guard and my judgment asserted its right to be heard, I gave my answer to the question and the answer was, "Yes, I believe that He would."