hion, as became a leader of the Church Militant. His legs were all
that could be desired to fill out episcopalian gaiters; and his bland,
clean-shaven face beamed with smiles and benignity. But Bishop Pendle
was not the mere figure-head Mrs Pansey's malice declared him to be; he
had great administrative powers, great organising capabilities, and
controlled his diocese in a way which did equal credit to his heart and
head. As he chatted with his guests and did the honours of the palace,
he seemed to be the happiest of men, and well worthy of his exalted
post. With a splendid position, a charming wife, a fine family, an
obedient flock of clergy and laity, the bishop's lines were cast in
pleasant places. There was not even the proverbial crumpled rose-leaf to
render uncomfortable the bed he had made for himself. He was like an
ecclesiastical Jacob--blessed above all men.

'Well, bishop!' said Dr Graham, a meagre sceptic, who did not believe in
the endurance of human felicity, 'I congratulate you.'

'On my daughter's engagement?' asked the prelate, smiling pleasantly.

'On everything. Your position, your family, your health, your easy
conscience; all is too smooth, too well with you. It can't last, your
lordship, it can't last,' and the doctor shook his bald head, as no
doubt Solon did at Croesus when he snubbed that too fortunate monarch.

'I am indeed blessed in the condition of life to which God has been
pleased to call me.'

'No doubt! No doubt! But remember Polycrates, bishop, and throw your
ring into the sea.'

'My dear Dr Graham,' said the bishop, rather stiffly, 'I do not believe
in such paganism. God has blessed me beyond my deserts, no doubt, and I
thank Him in all reverence for His kindly care.'

'Hum! Hum!' muttered Graham, shaking his head. 'When men thank fortune
for her gifts she usually turns her back on them.'

'I am no believer in such superstitions, doctor.'

'Well, well, bishop, you have tempted the gods, let us see what they
will do.'

'Gods or God, doctor?' demanded the bishop, with magnificent
displeasure.

'Whichever you like, my lord; whichever you like.'

The bishop was nettled and rather chilled by this pessimism. He felt
that it was his duty as a Churchman to administer a rebuke; but Dr
Graham's pagan views were well known, and a correction, however
dexterously administered, would only lead to an argument. A controversy
with Graham was no joke, as he was as subtle as Socrates in dis