n agreement with him that during
luncheon I would tell about the conversion of one of Mr. --'s
parishioners, and said, "While I do so, you watch his face. If he is at
all interested, I will conclude that I am wrong, and that he is
converted; but if he is not, I will leave you to judge for yourself. I
must say, I cannot understand a converted man not interested in the
conversion of others, even if it does nothing more than remind him of
his own."

My friend agreed to this, and seemed somewhat relieved in his mind.

On our arrival, Mr. -- received us courteously, and asked after the
family--indeed, about everything he could think of but the work.

My friend, after a little pause, said, "Have you not heard of the
revival?"

"Revival!" he said, calmly. "What is that?"

"The special services in my church."

"What services?"

This evidently was enough. He went out of the room to try and hurry the
luncheon. My friend looked very thoughtful, and said nothing, but was
clearly beginning to suspect that the judgment I had formed was not far
wrong.

In course of the luncheon I told my story, but not without being
interrupted over and over again by the host's attentions, and
importunities to "take more vegetables." "Have you any salt? .... Will
you take some bread? .... Will you not take a glass of wine?" It was
quite evident he wished the story at an end.

My friend said, "That is one of your parishioners he is talking about."

"I suspected so," he replied. "All I can say is, that if Mr. Haslam had
only known that man as long as I have, he would never speak of him as he
does. This is not the first profession he has made. He has been reformed
and changed several times before this, and has always become worse
afterwards."

"That is just the very thing Haslam says," said my friend--"that some
reformations are all flesh, and not the work of God; and, as such, can
never stand. I believe the man to be converted by God this time."

"We will see--we will see," said our host, quietly helping himself to a
glass of wine. "For my own part, I don't believe in these things."

My friend and I exchanged looks. I was silent, but he continued, "I am
bound to say that I was never converted before, nor yet my wife, my
daughter, or my sister."

"What!" said the vicar, starting, "you mean your sister Mary? Well, that
is enough! I don't wish to hear another word about your conversions
after that! I can only say that if I were half as go