much greater leisure than other more prosperous men; if a man was taken
ill (this was in the days before a doctor came), Phil was asked to
declare if he would "shy from the finish."

I heard Roscoe more than once declare that Phil was as good as two
curates to him. Not that Phil was at all pious, nor yet possessed of
those abstemious qualities in language and appetite by which good men
are known; but he had a gift of civic virtue--important in a
wicked world, and of unusual importance in Viking. He had neither
self-consciousness nor fear; and while not possessed of absolute tact
in a social way, he had a knack of doing the right thing bluntly, or
the wrong thing with an air of rightness. He envied no man, he coveted
nothing; had once or twice made other men's fortunes by prospecting, but
was poor himself. And in all he was content, and loved life and Viking.

Immediately after Roscoe had reached the mountains Phil had become his
champion, declaring that there was not any reason why a man should
not be treated sociably because he was a parson. Phil had been a great
traveller, as had many who settled at last in these valleys to the
exciting life of the river: salmon-catching or driving logs. He had
lived for a time in Lower California and Mexico, and had given Roscoe
the name of The Padre: which suited the genius and temper of the rude
population. And so it was that Roscoe was called The Padre by every one,
though he did not look the character.

As he told his story of Phil's life I could not help but contrast him
with most of the clergymen I knew or had seen. He had the admirable ease
and tact of a cultured man of the world, and the frankness and warmth of
a hearty nature, which had, however, some inherent strain of melancholy.
Wherever I had gone with him I had noticed that he was received with
good-humoured deference by his rough parishioners and others who were
such only in the broadest sense. Perhaps he would not have succeeded so
well if he had worn clerical clothes. As it was, of a week day, he could
not be distinguished from any respectable layman. The clerical uniform
attracts women more than men, who, if they spoke truly, would resent it.
Roscoe did not wear it, because he thought more of men than of function,
of manliness than clothes; and though this sometimes got him into
trouble with his clerical brethren who dearly love Roman collar, and
coloured stole, and the range of ritual from a lofty intoning to th