And then John slowly, and weighing every word so as to be sure he neither over-stated nor under-stated the case, opened up his whole heart’s sorrow.

“I hae suffered deeply, minister; I didna think life could be such a tragedy.”

“A tragedy indeed, John, but a tragedy with an angel audience.  Think of that.  Paul says ‘we are a spectacle unto men and angels.’  Mind how you play your part.  What is David doing now?”

“Nothing.  His affairs are still unsettled.”

“But that wont do, John.  Men learn to do ill by doing what is next to it—­nothing.  Without some duty life cannot hold itself erect.  If a man has no regular calling he is an unhappy man and a cross man, and I think prayers should be offered up for his wife and children and a’ who have to live with him.  Take David into your own employ at once.”

“O minister, that I canna do!  My office has aye had God-fearing, steady men in it, and I canna, and—­”

“’And that day Jesus was guest in the house of a man that was a sinner.’  John, can’t you take a sinner as a servant into your office?”

“I’ll try it, minister.”

“And, John, it will be a hard thing to do, but you must watch David constantly.  You must follow him to his drinking-haunts and take him home; if need be, you must follow him to warse places and take him home.  You must watch him as if all depended on your vigilance, and you must pray for him as if nothing depended on it.  You hae to conquer on your knees before you go into the world to fight your battle, John.  But think, man, what a warfare is set before you—­the saving of an immortal soul!  And I’m your friend and helper in the matter; the lad is one o’ my stray lambs; he belongs to my fold.  Go your ways in God’s strength, John, for this grief o’ yours shall be crowned with consolation.”

It is impossible to say how this conference strengthened John Callendar.  Naturally a very choleric man, he controlled himself into a great patience with his erring nephew.  He watched for him like a father; nay, more like a mother’s was the thoughtful tenderness of his care.  And David was often so touched by the love and forbearance shown him, that he made passionate acknowledgments of his sin and earnest efforts to conquer it.  Sometimes for a week together he abstained entirely, though during these intervals of reason he was very trying.  His remorse, his shame, his physical suffering, were so great that he needed the most patient tenderness; and yet he frequently resented this tenderness in a moody, sullen way that was a shocking contrast to his once bright and affectionate manner.