I asked my quaint neighbor to spend an evening with me at my rooms, and there I got from him an account of his own strange and eventful life. He was the illegitimate son of a rakish Scottish peer, who had not given him his name, but had paid for his upbringing and education. Being of a restless disposition, he ran off to sea at the age of eighteen. For years he had led a roving life, draining the cup of worldly pleasure to his very dregs. One day, in a drunken spree, he got his leg broken and was removed to a hospital, where he made the acquaintance of a converted Jew who was trying to do good work among the sailors in that port. During the period of his convalescence he commenced the study of Hebrew to while away the time that hung heavy on his hands, and, under the careful instruction of his Jewish friend, he was soon able to read portions of the Holy Scriptures in the original. After a time he gave up the life of a sailor and settled in Edinburgh, where he attended Hebrew and Syriac lectures at the University. At the present time he was taking the regular arts course, with a view to graduation, and was gaining a somewhat precarious livelihood by giving private lessons in Hebrew to young men who were studying for the ministry. James Macnicol was certainly a singular character, but I found him true as steel to the Christian life he had adopted, and was anxious to do all he could for the careless and godless around him. He was an expert swimmer, and during the summer, one would find him occupying his evenings in teaching a class of young lads that most useful art. He had the impression that any occupation that would keep the young fellows from going astray was worth trying. “It’s the only kind of decent amusement that I am acquainted with,” he would say, “and if I do what I can it will always help on the good work a wee bit.” Surely a most excellent principle, and one that might well be taken as the basis of every Christian’s practice. The Master Himself gave it His warm commendation when He said: “She hath done what she could.” I was not long in enlisting the kind sympathy of my eccentric friend, and I not only got his sympathy but his warm co-operation. When I commenced holding services in the school on Sunday evenings, I was somewhat discouraged to find that my congregation, which generally did not exceed twenty in number, consisted mostly of old women and children; not one of the many young men residing in the district put in an appearance. I spoke to Macnicol about this and asked him what he thought should be done to get in touch with the class referred to. “Do many of the young men belong to the Episcopal church?” I asked him.