of course the views of the church of England, could never, by any possibility, be wrong, and consequently that it was a great sin, and a sin which ought to be punished, in some way or other, for any man to dissent from it. Now, directly Susan began to talk about christening, and put the ingenious question to William, related in the last chapter, his former dialogues with her were immediately recalled to mind, and hence he was somewhat puzzled in giving an answer. He looked at Susan very wistfully, in a half-inquiring, half-scrutinizing way, not without a little mixture of surprise. A good physiognomist would have interpreted William's changing expression of face to mean"Dear me, Miss Susan, what can you want? How can you ask such a question? Don't you know our religious opinions better than this? Do you really ask for information's sake, or for the purpose of seeing what we shall say in reply?" Of course William did not speak in this way to Susan; he was too prudent for that. Still, if the lady's maid had been very quick in the art of interpreting countenances, she would have read the same questions in William's countenance that we have. All this time Mary sat very quietly by, hushing to rest her precious little charge. She might have felt surprise, too, at Susan's question-but she did not express it. Her countenance was as calm, and smooth, and loving, as if nothing could ever have disturbed it. She seemed principally absorbed with affectionate care for her boy, and her eye generally rested on his form; but ever and anon she looked to William, and sometimes she ventured to steal a look at Susan.

William gazed on Mary, and her simple innocent look seemed to nerve him with calm confidence as he proceeded to reply to his intrusive questioner. "No," said he, "you mistake; you have been quite misinformed as to what we are going to do. I thought you knew that we never go to church-and it's many a long day since I was last there." William was proceeding further, but Susan interrupted him. "Yes, I know that you don't go to church generally; I have often wished that you did. But, then, if you don't go always, you might go sometimes, especially to have your child christened; and I thought you might perhaps have considered over the matter and determined to do so nowthat's all."

"No," said William, in a gentle but firm tone, "we are going

to our little chapel with baby, and Mr Freeman is to baptize it along with some others.”

“Well, well,” said Susan, rising from her seat, and giving her head, and neck, and shoulders a kind of serpentine twist, that was very expressive, "you can do as you please, of course; but I do think you are very foolish in going so far off when our church is so near. Why it's full half a mile, and likely to be very hot, and, gracious me! how can Mary keep baby quiet all the while after walking there in the sun? Shall you go in at the beginning of the service ?"

“Yes, I believe we intend to do so,” said Mary, in her quiet way.

“And when will the christening take place? during the service, or at the close? or what?"

Mary looked to William, and William said, "Somewhere about the close, I think it's mostly so, at least; and I expect that will be the time to-day."

“Why, how are you to manage?” replied Susan, holding up both hands in astonishment, as if more than convinced that it was impossible for Mary and her baby to wait quietly so long.

Mary did not anticipate so great a difficulty as that which had just been suggested; and so, whether it was because she wanted time to think seriously over the matter, or because she did not exactly see where the difficulty lay, she made no reply, saving a quiet smile, which gently lifted up one corner of her little mouth.

"Well, now, I do think it cruel not to afford you some convenience—some room or other to retire to, instead of keeping you in church—I mean chapel—all that while. They always do so at our church." And here Miss Susan looked very hard at Mary, with a countenance of very great compassion, as if she would have her to understand that she had some feeling for her, if her minister had not.

"Oh," said Mary, seeing her drift, "if baby's noisy we can always go out for a little while to quiet him—or to the vestry; can we not, William, if it be wished for ?"

William assented, adding, "Mr Brown, the deacon, told me that if Mary wished it, she might stay there all the time—in case she thought baby would not be quiet.”

How long this dialogue about a great difficulty might have

lasted, had it not been interrupted, we cannot say. Fortunately, however, it was brought to a speedy close by an unexpected visit to the house of William and Mary. Honest William Brown, the deacon, to whom reference has just been made, appeared with the news that Mr Freeman had suddenly been taken ill; that it was intended to hold a prayer-meeting instead of the usual service; and that it would be expedient to defer the baptism to the succeeding Sabbath, should Mr F.'s health be then restored. This was a great disappointment to the parents-especially to Mary. She had taken so much pains in making baby look neat and clean, and her pains had been (she thought so at least) so successful, that it was a grievous thing to hear that they were in vain. William, however, expressed more regret at the cause of the disappointment, than at the disappointment itself; and so expressed himself to Mr Brown. And what was Susan doing all the while? Dear me! you would have smiled if you had seen her. There she stood behind the little group, as a stranger to one of the parties should do, apparently unconcerned about the tidings which the good old deacon had brought with him, but really overjoyed at what she heard. She pressed the knuckle of her forefinger to her lips, that she might not betray her feelings; and certainly not one of them knew what was passing in her mind. But any one who had heard the conversation between her and William and Mary, before William Brown entered the cottage, would easily have guessed how satisfied she was, if he had had an opportunity of seeing her. Her very ribbons seemed to thrill with cruel joy at this unexpected disappointment; and she said to herself, "Well, there is some chance yet of having my own way with the baby." How she schemed, and how she succeeded in her scheme, we shall presently see.

0.

CHRISTIAN LIBERALITY.

To the Editor of the Independent Magazine.

WILL you pardon me the liberty I take in addressing you? The only excuse I plead for my intrusion is the importance of the subject to which I am anxious to direct attention, and which I will state as briefly as possible.

The church of God has received the gospel in trust for the world. The obligation of Christians not only to maintain it among themselves, but also to diffuse it throughout the nations of the earth, is, I believe, by all of them acknowledged. But if the spiritual destitution of many parts of our own country, the inability of religious societies to occupy extensive fields of usefulness which are even now open to them, and the wants of the far larger number of our race, be considered, it will be seen that the obligation imposed by Christ upon his people is far from being discharged.

I have frequently been deeply grieved when considering the claims which the cause of the Redeemer has upon Christians, and the very inadequate support which it receives from them. It is true that a large amount of money is annually contributed for religious purposes, but if it be compared with the large number of persons who subscribe towards it, the average contribution of each individual will appear small indeed. It is obvious that if truth and holiness are to be maintained and extended, Christian liberality must rise to a far higher standard than that by which it has hitherto been regulated.

When thinking upon this subject it has often occurred to me that the greater number of Christians are accustomed to contribute too little from a deep, inward conviction of sacred obligation. One reason, undoubtedly, why the Saviour committed his cause to his people was that he might prove their attachment to himself by their devotion to his cause, and the sacrifices they might be willing to make in order to maintain and extend it. But surely the majority of professing Christians must feel that if their attachment to the Saviour be measured by the efforts and sacrifices which they have made in his cause, it will appear much weaker than, probably, they had imagined.

Why should not Christians devote a proportion of their income, whatever that income may be, to the service of the Saviour? In regulating their expenditure, why should not the claims of his cause form a necessary item, and a certain part of their income, larger or smaller according to circumstances, be laid aside in order to its extension? It will not be doubted that this ought to be done could Christians only be induced to do it, the good that would result from it is incalculable; the spiritual destitution of our own country would be removed, the wants of our colonial

missions would be attended to, and the distant nations of the earth would speedily be visited with the salvation of our God.

I forbear alluding to the direct personal benefits that would result to Christians themselves from acting in this manner; it is certain, however, that these would be neither few nor small.

I am not without hope that if this subject were pressed upon the hearts and consciences of the people of God, many of them might be induced to take it into serious consideration. It is on this account that I now intrude upon you. Who are so competent to urge it as the ministers of the gospel? Who are so likely to be heard by the people as their faithful and beloved pastors? The word of God furnishes rich materials in illustration of the propriety, the obligation, and the blessed results of adopting a plan like this, and it cannot fail, I think, to commend itself to every enlightened Christian mind.

True, many individuals will think it impossible thus to act: their income is all appropriated already. But would they only revise their expenditure, they would find it much easier than they imagine so to arrange as to be able regularly to devote a proportion of what they have, or receive, to the sacred cause of their divine Master.

With the hope of inducing the pastors of our churches to take up this subject, and thus endeavour to raise the standard of Christian liberality, I determined some time ago to adopt this method of addressing them, and the present appeared a proper time for carrying that determination into effect.

Allow me to hope that you, sir, will be induced to consider the plan which I have suggested, and take an early opportunity to recommend it to the adoption of the members of the church and congregation under your care.

I remain, with much respect, yours, most sincerely,

A FRIEND TO THE CAUSE OF THE REDEEMER.

ENCOURAGEMENT FOR SABBATH-SCHOOL
TEACHERS.

No class of labourers in God's vineyard is more liable, dear friends, than you, to give way, at times, to discouragement, under the feel