“Ay, ay,” replied the priest, “that is the old story; first drink, and after that wickedness of every description.  Ah, sir, it’s a poor wretched world; but at the same time it is as God made it; and it becomes our duty to act an honest and a useful part in it, at all events.”

“You seemed depressed, sir, I think,” observed the stranger; “I hope there is nothing wrong.  If there is, command my services, my friendship, my purse; in each, in all, command me.”

“Many thanks, many thanks,” returned the other, seizing him warmly by the hand, whilst the tears fell from his eyes.  “I wish there were more in the world like you.  There is nothing wrong with me, however, but what I will be able, I hope, to set right soon.”

“I trust you will not allow any false delicacy to stand in your way, so far as I am concerned,” said the stranger.  “I possess not only the wish but the ability to serve you; and if—­”

“Not now,” replied the priest; “nothing to signify is wrong with me.  God bless you, though, and he will, too, and prosper your honorable endeavors.  I must go now:  I have to call on old Corbet, and if I can influence him to assist you in tracing that poor young man, I will do it.  He is hard and cunning, I know; but then he is not insensible to the fear of death, which, indeed, is the only argument likely to prevail with him.”

“You should dine with me to-day,” said his friend, “but that I am myself engaged to dine with Dean Palmer, where I am to meet the colonel of the Thirty-third, and some of the officers.  It is the first time I have dined out since I came to the country.  The colonel is an old friend of mine, and can be depended on.”

“The dean is a brother-in-law of Lady Gourlay’s, is he not?”

“He is.”

“Yes, and what is better still, he is an excellent man, and a good Christian.  I wish there were more like him in the country.  I know the good done by him in my own neighborhood, where he has established, by his individual exertions, two admirable institutions for the poor—­a savings’ bank and a loan fund—­to the manifest, relief of every struggling man who is known to be industrious and honest; and see the consequences—­he is loved and honored by all who know him, for he is perpetually doing good.”

“Your own bishop is not behindhand in offices of benevolence and charity, any more than Dean Palmer,” observed the stranger.

“In truth, you may say so,” replied, the other.  “With the piety and humility of an apostle, he possesses the most childlike simplicity of heart; to which I may add, learning the most profound and extensive.  His private charity to the poor will always cause himself to be ranked among their number.  I wish every dean and bishop in the two churches resembled the Christian men we speak of; it would be well for the country.”

“Mr. Birney, I know, stands well with you.  I believe, and I take it for granted, that he does also with the people.”