telling the bishop with an irrepressible candour and completeness just
exactly what was the matter with his intimate life. The bishop very
earnestly did not want these details, and did his utmost to avoid the
controversial questions that the honest man pressed respectfully but
obstinately upon him.

"Even St. Paul, my lord, admitted that it is better to marry than burn,"
said the Pringle misdemeanant, "and here was I, my lord, married and
still burning!" and, "I think you would find, my lord, considering
all Charlotte's peculiarities, that the situation was really much more
trying than the absolute celibacy St. Paul had in view."...

The bishop listened to these arguments as little as possible, and did
not answer them at all. But afterwards the offender came and wept and
said he was ruined and heartbroken and unfairly treated because
he wasn't a gentleman, and that was distressing. It was so exactly
true--and so inevitable. He had been deprived, rather on account of
his voice and apologetics than of his offence, and public opinion was
solidly with the sentence. He made a gallant effort to found what
he called a Labour Church in Pringle, and after some financial
misunderstandings departed with his unambiguous menage to join the
advanced movement on the Clyde.

The Morrice Deans enquiry however demanded an amount of erudition that
greatly fatigued the bishop. He had a very fair general knowledge of
vestments, but he had never really cared for anything but the poetry of
ornaments, and he had to work strenuously to master the legal side
of the question. Whippham, his chaplain, was worse than useless as a
helper. The bishop wanted to end the matter as quickly, quietly, and
favourably to Morrice Deans as possible; he thought Morrice Deans a