with the intention of
offering her his services, when he discovered that he had met her when
travelling in Australia, and that her husband had been deeply impressed
by a sermon which he had then delivered, and had been entreating for
some days that he might be summoned to administer the last consolations
of religion. The clergyman went in to see the patient, administered the
last rites, comforted and encouraged him, and was with him when he
died. He afterwards told the widow the story of his mysterious summons
to Bristol, and she replied that she had been praying night and day
that he might come and that he had no doubt come in answer to her
prayers.

But the unsatisfactory part of the story is that one is asked to
condone the extremely unbusinesslike, sloppy, and troublesome methods
employed by this spiritual agency. The lady knew the name and position
of the clergyman perfectly well, and might have written or wired to
him. He could thus have been spared his aimless and mysterious journey,
the expense of spending a night at the hotel; and moreover it was only
the fortuitous meeting with a third person, not closely connected with
the story, which prevented the clergyman from leaving the place, his
mission unfulfilled. One cannot help feeling that, if a spiritual
agency was at work, it was working either in a very clumsy way, or with
a relish for mystery which reminds one of the adventures of Sherlock
Holmes; if one is expected to accept the story as a manifestation of
supernatural power, one can only conceive of it as the work of a very
tricksy spirit, like Ariel in the "Tempest"; it seems like a very
elaborate and melodramatic attempt to bring about a result, that could
have been far more satisfactorily achieved by a little common sense. If
instead of inspiring the lady to earnest prayer--which appears too to
have been very slow in its action--why could not the supernatural power
at work have inspired her with the much simpler idea of looking at the
Clergy List? And yet the story no doubt produces on the ordinary mind
an impressive effect, when as a matter of fact, if it is fairly
considered, it can only be regarded, if true, as the work of an amiable
and rather dilettante power, with a strong relish for the elaborately
marvellous.

The truth is that what the ordinary human being desires, in matters of
this kind, is not scientific knowledge but picturesqueness. As long as
people frankly confess that it is the latter