I + 

The Reverend Elmer Gantry was writing letters⁠—he had no friends, and the letters were all to inquirers about his Prosperity Classes⁠—at a small oak-desk in the lobby of the O’Hearn House in Zenith. + 

His Zenith classes here had gone not badly, not brilliantly. He had made enough to consider paying the hundred dollars back to Frank Shallard, though certainly not enough to do so. He was tired of this slippery job; he was almost willing to return to farm implements. But he looked anything but discouraged, in his morning coat, his wing collar, his dotted blue bow tie. + 

Writing at the other half of the lobby desk was a little man with an enormous hooked nose, receding chin, and a Byzantine bald head. He was in a brown business suit, with a lively green tie, and he wore horn-rimmed spectacles. + 

“Vice-president of a bank, but started as a schoolteacher,” Elmer decided. He was conscious that the man was watching him. A possible student? No. Too old. + 

Elmer leaned back, folded his hands, looked as pontifical as possible, cleared his throat with a learned sound, and beamed. + 

The little man kept glancing up, ratlike, but did not speak. + 

“Beautiful morning,” said Elmer. + 

“Yes. Lovely. On mornings like this all Nature exemplifies the divine joy!” + 

“My God! No business for me here! He’s a preacher or an osteopath,” Elmer lamented within. + 

“Is this⁠—this is Dr. Gantry, I believe.” + 

“Why, yes. I’m, uh, sorry, I⁠—” + 

“I’m Bishop Toomis, of the Zenith area of the Methodist Church. I had the great pleasure of hearing one of your exordiums the other evening, Dr. Gantry.” + 

Elmer was hysterically thrilled. + 

Bishop Wesley R. Toomis! For years he had heard of the bishop as one of the giants, one of the pulpit orators, one of the profound thinkers, exalted speakers, and inspired executives of the Methodist Church, North. He had addressed ten thousand at Ocean Grove; he had spoken in Yale chapel; he had been a success in London. Elmer rose and, with a handshake which must have been most painful to the bishop, he glowed: + 

“Well, well, well, sir, this certainly is a mighty great pleasure, sir. It sure is! So you came and listened to me! Well, wish I’d known that. I’d of asked you to come sit on the platform.” + 

Bishop Toomis had risen also; he waved Elmer back into his chair, himself perched like a keen little hawk, and trilled: + 

“No, no, not at all, not at all. I came only as an humble listener. I dare say I have, by the chance and circumstance of age, had more experience of Christian life and doctrine than you, and I can’t pretend I exactly in every way agreed with you, you might say, but at the same time, that was a very impressive thought about the need of riches to carry on the work of the busy workaday world, as we have it at present, and the value of concentration in the silence as well as in those happy moments of more articulate prayer. Yes, yes. I firmly believe that we ought to add to our Methodist practise some of the Great Truths about the, alas, too often occulted and obstructed Inner Divine Powers possessed in unconsciousness by each of us, as New Thought has revealed them to us, and that we ought most certainly not to confine the Church to already perceived dogmas but encourage it to grow. It stands to reason that really devout prayer and concentration should most materially effect both bodily health and financial welfare. Yes, yes. I was interested in what you had to say about it and⁠—The fact is that I am going to address the Chamber of Commerce luncheon this noon, along much these same lines, and if you happen to be free, I should be very glad if⁠—” + 

They went, Elmer and Bishop Toomis, and Elmer added to the bishop’s observations a few thoughts, and the most caressing compliments about bishops in general, Bishop Wesley R. Toomis in particular, pulpit oratory, and the beauties of prosperity. Everybody had a radiant time, except possibly the members of the Chamber of Commerce, and after the luncheon Elmer and the bishop walked off together. + 

“My, my, I feel flattered that you should know so much about me! I am, after all, a very humble servant of the Methodist Church⁠—of the Lord, that is⁠—and I should not have imagined that any slight local reputation I might have would have penetrated into the New Thought world,” breathed the bishop. + 

“Oh, I’m not a New Thoughter. I’m, uh, temporarily conducting these courses⁠—as a sort of psychological experiment, you might say. Fact is, I’m an ordained Baptist preacher, and of course in seminary your sermons were always held up to us as models.” + 

“I’m afraid you flatter me, Doctor.” + 

“Not at all. In fact they attracted me so that⁠—despite my great reverence for the Baptist Church, I felt, after reading your sermons, that there was more breadth and vigor in the Methodist Church, and I’ve sometimes considered asking some Methodist leader, like yourself, about my joining your ministry.” + 

“Is that a fact? Is that a fact? We could use you. Uh⁠—I wonder if you couldn’t come out to the house tomorrow night for supper⁠—just take potluck with us?” + 

“I should be most honored, Bishop.” + 

Alone in his room, Elmer exulted, “That’s the stunt! I’m sick of playing this lone game. Get in with a real big machine like the Methodists⁠—maybe have to start low down, but climb fast⁠—be a bishop myself in ten years⁠—with all their spondulix and big churches and big membership and everything to back me up. Me for it. O Lord, thou hast guided me.⁠ ⁠… No, honest, I mean it.⁠ ⁠… No more hell-raising. Real religion from now on. Hurray! Oh, Bish, you watch me hand you the ole flattery!” + 