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"I own that. I used to go to church; but his pious face was ever before me, and his psalm-singing ever in my ears. Was it possible to look at him and not think of his grasping, selfish, overreaching conduct in all his business transactions through the week? No, it was not possible for me. And so, in disgust, I gave up my pew, and haven't been to church since."
The next man whom Gregory met he made the repository of what Lane had said about Rowley. This person happened to be a member of the church, and felt scandalized by the remarks. After a little reflection he concluded to inform Mr. Rowley of the free manner in which Mr. Lane had spoken of him.
"Called me a hypocrite!" exclaimed the indignant Mr. Rowley, as soon as he was advised of the free manner in which Mr. Lane had talked about him.
"So I understand. Gregory was my informant."
Mr. Gregory was called upon, and confirmed the statement. Rowley was highly indignant, and while the heat of his anger was upon him, called at the store of Mr. Lane, in company with two members of his church, who were not at all familiar with his business character, and, therefore, held him in pretty high estimation as a man of piety and sincerity.
The moment Mr. Lane saw these three men enter his place of business, he had a suspicion of their errand.
"Can I have some private conversation with you?" asked Mr. Rowley, with a countenance as solemn as the grave.
"Certainly," replied Mr. Lane, not the least discomposed. "Walk back into my counting-room. We shall be entirely alone there. Do you wish your friends present?"
"I do," was gravely replied; "I brought them for that purpose."
"Walk back, gentlemen," said Lane, as he turned to lead the way.
The four men retired to the little office of the merchant in the back part of the store. After they were seated, Lane said:
"Well, Mr. Rowley, I am ready to hear what you have to say."
Mr. Rowley cleared his throat two or three times, and then said, in a voice that indicated a good deal of inward disturbance:
"I understand that you have been making rather free use of my name of late."
"Indeed! in what way?" Lane was perfectly self-possessed.
"I am told that you went so far as to call me a hypocrite." The voice of Rowley trembled.
"I said you were a Sunday Christian," replied Lane.
"What do you mean by that?" was peremptorily demanded.
"A man whose religion is a Sunday affair altogether. One who expects to get to heaven by pious observances and church-goings on the Sabbath, without being over-particular as to the morality of his conduct through the week."
"Morality! do you pretend to say that I am an immoral man?" said Rowley, with much heat.
"Don't get into a pa.s.sion!" returned Lane, coolly. "That will not help us at all in this grave matter."
Rowley quivered in every nerve; but the presence of his two brethren admonished him that a Christian temper was very necessary to be maintained on the occasion.
"Do you charge me with want of morality?" he said, with less visible excitement.
"I do,--that is, according to my code of morality."
"Upon what do you base your code?" asked one of the witnesses of this rather strange interview.
"On the Bible," replied Lane.
"Indeed!" was answered, with some surprise; "on what part of it?"
"On every part. But more particularly that pa.s.sage in the New Testament where the whole of the law and the prophets is condensed in a single pa.s.sage, enjoining love to our neighbour as well as G.o.d."
Rowley and his friends looked surprised at this remark.
"Explain yourself," said the former, with a knit brow.
"That is easily done. The precept here given, and it comes from the highest authority, expressly declares, as I understand it, religion to consist in acting justly toward all men, as well as in pious acts towards G.o.d. If a man love not his brother whom he hath seen, how can he love G.o.d whom he hath not seen?"
"Does our brother Rowley deny that?" asked the men present.
"If a man's life is any index to his faith, I would say that he does,"
replied Mr. Lane.
A deep crimson overspread the face of Mr. Rowley.
"I didn't expect insult when I came here," said he in a trembling voice.
"Nor have I offered any," replied Mr. Lane.
"You have thought proper to ask me a number of very pointed questions, and I have merely answered them according to my views of truth."
"You make a very sweeping declaration," said one of the friends of Rowley. "Suppose you give some proof of your a.s.sertion?"
"That I can readily do if it is desired."
"I desire it, then," said Rowley.
"Do you remember the five bales of cotton you sold to Peterson?"
inquired Mr. Lane.
Rowley replied that he did, but evinced some uneasiness of manner at the question.
"They were damaged," said Lane.
"I sold them as I bought them," returned Rowley.
"Did you buy them as damaged?"
"No, I bought the cotton as a good article."
"And sold it as good?"
Mr. Rowley seemed a little confused.
"I sold the cotton at twelve cents a pound," was the reply. "Nothing was said about the quality."