words and a prayer over a friend of mine, who
died last night?"

I promised to be there, and he left.

His friend, like himself, had been a gambler. He was from New York. He
was well educated, gentle in his manners, and a general favorite with
the rough and desperate fellows with whom he associated, but with whom
he seemed out of place. The passion for gambling had put its terrible
spell on him, and be was helpless in its grasp. But though he mixed with
the crowds that thronged the gambling-hells, he was one of them only in
the absorbing passion for play. There was a certain respect shown him by
all that venturesome fraternity. He went to Frazer River during the gold
excitement. In consequence of exposure and privation in that wild chase
after gold, which proved fatal to so many eager adventurers, he
contracted pulmonary disease, and came back to San Francisco to die. He
had not a dollar. His gambler friend took charge of him, placed him in a
good boarding-place, hired a nurse for him, and for nearly a year
provided for all his wants.

Newton.

The miners called him the "Wandering Jew." That was behind his back. To
his face they addressed him as Father Newton. He walked his circuits in
the northern mines. No pedestrian could keep up with him, as with his
long form bending forward, his immense yellow beard that reached to his
breast floating in the wind, he strode from camp to camp with the
message of salvation. It took a good trotting-horse to keep pace with
him. Many a stout prospector, meeting him on a highway, after panting
and straining to bear him company, had to fall behind, gazing after him
in wonder, as he swept out of sight at that marvelous gait. There was a
glitter in his eye, and an intensity of gaze that left you in doubt
whether it was genius or madness that it bespoke. It was, in truth, a
little of both. He had genius. Nobody ever talked with him, or heard him
preach, without finding it out. The rough fellow who offended him at a
camp-meeting, near "Yankee Jim's," no doubt thought him mad. He was
making some disturbance just as the long bearded old preacher was
passing with a bucket of water in his hand.

"What do you mean?" he thundered, stopping and fixing his keen eye upon
the rowdy.

A rude and profane reply was made by the jeering sinner.

Quick as thought Newton rushed upon him with flashing eye and uplifted
bucket, a picture of fiery wrath that was too much for the thoughtless
scoffer,