the good Rabbi had not read _Ecce
Homo_, and was hardly, well . . . up to date. He would not for the
world hint such a thing to the dear old man, nor even argue with him;
but it was flattering to remember that the attack could be merely one
of blunderbusses, in which the modern thinker would at last intervene
and save the ancient scholar from humiliation.

"Well, Rabbi?" and Carmichael tried to make it easy.

"Before I say what is on my heart, John, you will grant an old man who
loves you one favour. So far as in you lies you will bear with me if
that which I have to say, and still more that which my conscience will
compel me to do, is hard to flesh and blood."

"Did n't we settle that last night in the vestry?" and Carmichael was
impatient; "is it that you do not agree with the doctrine of the Divine
Fatherhood? We younger men are resolved to base Christian doctrine on
the actual Scriptures, and to ignore mere tradition."

"An excellent rule, my dear friend," cried the Rabbi, wonderfully
quickened by the challenge, "and with your permission and for our
mutual edification we shall briefly review all passages bearing on the
subject in hand--using the original, as will doubtless be your wish,
and you correcting my poor recollection."

About an hour afterwards, and when the Rabbi was only entering into the
heart of the matter, Carmichael made the bitter discovery--without the
Rabbi having even hinted at such a thing--that his pet sermon was a
mass of boyish crudities, and this reverse of circumstances was some
excuse for his pettishness.

"It does not seem to me that it is worth our time to haggle about the
usage of Greek words or to count texts: I ground my position on the
general meaning of the Gospels and the sense of things," and Carmichael
stood on the hearthrug in a very superior attitude.

"Let that pass then, John, and forgive me if I appeared to battle about
words, as certain scholars of the olden time were fain to do, for in
truth it is rather about the hard duty before me than any imperfection
in your teaching I would speak," and the Rabbi glanced nervously at the
young minister.

"We are both Presbyters of Christ's Church, ordained after the order of
primitive times, and there are laid on us certain heavy charges and
responsibilities from which we may not shrink, as we shall answer to
the Lord at the great day."

Carmichael's humiliation was lost in perplexity, and he sat down,
wondering what the