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approved; nevertheless was it true, that Mr. Fullarton liked his
penitents to be fair: not a very eccentric or unaccountable taste
either. It is a necessity of our nature to take more delight in the
welfare and training of a beautiful and refined being, than in that of
one who is coarse and awkward and ugly. Even with the merely animal
creation we should experience this; and not above one divine in fifty is
_more_ than human, after all.
So, gazing on the fair face and queenly figure that were then before
him, and feeling a sort of vested interest in their possessor, the heart
of the pastor was merry within him; and he, so to speak, caroused over
the profuselysugared tea and wellbuttered _galette_ with a decorous
and regulated joviality; ever as he drank casting down the wreaths of
his florid eloquence at the feet of his entertainers. In any atmosphere
whatsoever, no matter how uncongenial, those garlands were sure to
bloom. His zeal was such a hardy perennial that the most chilling
reception could not damage its vitality. Principle and intention were
both all right, of course, but they were clumsily carried out, and the
whole effect was to remind one unpleasantly of the clockmaker puffing
his wares. At the most unseasonable times and in the most incongruous
places, Mr. Fullarton always had an eye to business, introducing and
inculcating his tenets with an assurance and complacency peculiar to
himself. Sometimes he would adopt the familiarly conversational,
sometimes the theatrically effective style; but it never seemed to cross
his mind that either could appear ridiculous or grotesque. Some absurd
stories were told of his performances in this line. On one occasion,
they say, he addressed his neighbor at dinner, to whom he had just been
introduced, abruptly thus: You see, what we want ismore faith, in
precisely the manner and tone of a _gourmet_ suggesting that the soup
would be all the better for a little more seasoning; or of Mr. Chouler
asserting, the farmers must be protected, sir. On another, meeting for
the first time a very pious and wealthy old man (I believe a jointstock
bank director), he proceeded to sound him as to his experiences. The
unsuspecting elder, rather flattered by the interest taken in his
welfare, and never dreaming that such communications could be any thing
but privileged and confidential, parted with his information pretty
freely. Mr. Fullarton was so delighted at what he had heard that he
turned suddenly round to the mixed assembly and cried out. Why, here's
a blessed old Barzillai! His face was beaming like that of an
enthusiastic numismatist who stumbles upon a rare Commodus or an
authentic Domitian. There were several people present of his own way of
thinking; but some, even among those, felt very ill afterward from their
efforts to repress their laughter. The miserable individual thus endued

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