ent, "in
behalf of my friend, Brother Dobsho, to make a very delicate and unusual
request. You are, I think, going to baptise him to-morrow, and I trust
it will be to him the beginning of a new and better life. But I don't
know if you are aware that his family are all Plungers, and that he is
himself tainted with the wicked heresy of that sect. So it is. He is, as
one might say in secular metaphor, 'on the fence' between their grievous
error and the pure faith of your church. It would be most melancholy if
he should get down on the wrong side. Although I confess with shame I
have not myself embraced the truth, I hope I am not too blind to see
where it lies."

"The calamity that you apprehend," said the reverend lout, after solemn
reflection, "would indeed seriously affect our friend's interest and
endanger his soul. I had not expected Brother Dobsho so soon to give up
the good fight."

"I think sir," I replied reflectively, "there is no fear of that if the
matter is skilfully managed. He is heartily with you--might I venture to
say with _us_--on every point but one. He favors immersion! He has been
so vile a sinner that he foolishly fears the more simple rite of your
church will not make him wet enough. Would you believe it? his
uninstructed scruples on the point are so gross and materialistic that
he actually suggested soaping himself as a preparatory ceremony! I
believe, however, if instead of sprinkling my friend, you would pour a
generous basinful of water on his head--but now that I think of it in
your enlightening presence I see that such a proceeding is quite out of
the question. I fear we must let matters take the usual course, trusting
to our later efforts to prevent the backsliding which may result."

The parson rose and paced the floor a moment, then suggested that he'd
better see Brother Dobsho, and labor to remove his error. I told him I
thought not; I was sure it would not be best. Argument would only
confirm him in his prejudices. So it was settled that the subject should
not be broached in that quarter. It would have been bad for me if it had
been.

When I reflect now upon the guile of that conversation, the falsehood of
my representations and the wickedness of my motive I am almost ashamed
to proceed with my narrative. Had the minister been other than an arrant
humbug, I hope I should never have suffered myself to make him the dupe
of a scheme so sacrilegious in itself, and prosecuted with so sinful