“I had been told,” said the Master, “that the peculiar form of derangement with this gentleman was that he had aspired to distinction in the English Church; and on one memorable occasion when I called he received me, not with the usual familiarity, but with a certain stiffness and solemnity of bearing which was hardly in keeping with his courteous demeanour on other occasions.  One had to be on one’s guard at all times, or he might get a knife plunged into him without notice.  I chatted for some time in a kind and easy manner, hoping to find that the mild restraint and discipline had done the poor fellow good.  Alas! how deceived I was, when, in a sudden rage, he turned upon me, and asked who the devil I thought I was talking to?”

“I told him a gentleman of a kind nature, I was sure, and of an amiable disposition.

“‘Yes,’ said he, ’but that is no reason why you should not treat me with proper deference and with due respect for my exalted position.’

“I bowed politely, and expressed a hope that I should never forget what was due from one gentleman to another.

“‘No, no,’ said he, ’that kind of excuse will not do.  One gentleman to another, indeed!  Whom are you talking to?  I insist on your treating me with reverence and respect.  Perhaps you do not know that I am St. Paul?’

“‘Indeed!’ said I, ’I was not aware that I was speaking to that holy Apostle, to one whom I hold in extreme reverence, and whose writings I have made my study.’”

After that, it seems, they got on very well together for the rest of the interview.  Warren was able to delight him with his knowledge of Cappadocia, Phrygia, and Pamphylia, and the little incident of leaving his cloak at Troas, his shipwreck, and a vast number of things which the Apostle seemed very pleased to hear, while he conducted himself with that pious dignity which well deserved the obsequious reverence of the official visitor.  On parting, St. Paul said,—­

“You are rather mixed in your Scriptures; the only thing you are accurate about is leaving my cloak at Troas.”

On Warren’s next visit he resolved to conduct himself with more reverence.  St. Paul was looking much the same as on the previous occasion.  Sam genuflected, and held down his head, putting his hands devoutly together, and making such other manifestations of reverence as he thought the case required.

St. Paul looked at Warren with wonderment, and was evidently by no means satisfied with his salutations.

“Who the devil,” said the madman, “do you think you are making those idiotic signs to?  Whom do you take me for?”

“St. Paul, your holiness.”

“‘St. Paul, your holiness,’ he repeated.  ’My ——­, you ought to be put into a lunatic asylum and looked after.  You must be stark mad to think I am the holy Apostle St. Paul.  What put that into your silly brains?  Down on your knees, villain, at once, and prostrate yourself before the Shah of Persia—­the dawn of creation and the light of the universe!’