and of unusual importance in Viking. He had neither self-consciousness
nor fear; and while not possessed of absolute tact in a social way, he
had a knack of doing the right thing bluntly, or the wrong thing with an
air of rightness. He envied no man, he coveted nothing; had once or
twice made other men's fortunes by prospecting, but was poor himself.
And in all he was content, and loved life and Viking.

Immediately after Roscoe had reached the mountains Phil had become his
champion, declaring that there was not any reason why a man should not
be treated sociably because he was a parson. Phil had been a great
traveller, as had many who settled at last in these valleys to the
exciting life of the river: salmon-catching or driving logs. He had
lived for a time in Lower California and Mexico, and had given Roscoe the
name of The Padre: which suited the genius and temper of the rude
population. And so it was that Roscoe was called The Padre by every one,
though he did not look the character.

As he told his story of Phil's life I could not help but contrast him
with most of the clergymen I knew or had seen. He had the admirable ease
and tact of a cultured man of the world, and the frankness and warmth of
a hearty nature, which had, however, some inherent strain of melancholy.
Wherever I had gone with him I had noticed that he was received with
good-humoured deference by his rough parishioners and others who were
such only in the broadest sense. Perhaps he would not have succeeded so
well if he had worn clerical clothes. As it was, of a week day, he could
not be distinguished from any respectable layman. The clerical uniform
attracts women more than men, who, if they spoke truly, would resent it.
Roscoe did not wear it, because he thought more of men than of function,
of manliness than clothes; and though this sometimes got him into trouble
with his clerical brethren who dearly love Roman collar, and coloured