"But you did not know whom it belonged to?"
"I did. Your card was in the purse."
"Ah!"
"I see," said the curate, almost with relief. "Now you appreciate the true character of the man you offer to assist. Go, call in the police, and give me up to justice."
Morley's face became overcast, and a look of deep sorrow settled upon it. He sat in silence for a few moments, that seemed an age to the man cowering before him. Then he said, in an authoritative yet kind voice, "Campion, I am an old man, and your father's friend. I beseech of you to look on me as standing in his place, and tell me all about this sad affair. Do not seek either to condemn or excuse yourself, but tell me the tale simply, and as straightforwardly as though you were speaking of another."
Thus abjured, the young man described in detail the doings of the day, in a voice often broken by his agitation. He did not seek to palliate his offence, but his narrative showed how circumstances had combined to urge him into dishonesty.
The elder man listened to him attentively, but in silence, then as he concluded he took his hands in his, and said—
"My poor friend, your tale has greatly moved me. Believe me, the money is of no importance to me, but I dare not ask you to look lightly on your sin. You used the hard term theft for your act, but I do not think it is that. I am not a lawyer, but I imagine the law has a milder term for such offences. However that may be, now more than ever I claim my right to help you. If you accept my assistance, a useful career is before you, and your error will serve as an incentive to future work. Then I ask you to think of your young wife and helpless child; surely they appeal strongly to you to take the help I offer you."
"You heap coals of fire on my head," murmured the young man, in broken accents.
"The two men sat talking far into the evening."
The two men sat talking far into the evening, and when Morley rose to leave he had gained his point. The curate had learnt the lesson, that oftentimes appears so hard to believe, that if God is willing to forgive, it is meet that man should not condemn himself too severely, and should accept human forgiveness if fully and freely offered.
The Rev. Oswald Campion is now a well-known preacher. He holds an important living in the south of England, and his preaching has drawn a large congregation around him. It is not his eloquence or rhetorical display that affects his hearers, for he speaks in simple language, as an erring man to fellow-men liable to fall into temptation, and the sincerity of his words none can dispute. His early error has impressed his soul, and he never tires of preaching the doctrines of mercy and forgiveness.
