"That is quite right," said the Rector, gravely; and he now seemed to ignore the Curate's presence. "And do you take upon yourself to say, sir, that, as my child was not baptised, it goes to--the bad place?" "I am not disposed to enter into a controversy with you. My duty is to obey the canons of the Church. `He that believeth and is baptised shall be saved: he that believeth not shall be damned,'" he added, only to himself, but heard by the others. "How could that tender child believe?" said Morrison, fiercely. There was no reply. "Mr Mallow, sir," exclaimed Morrison, difference of grade forgotten in his excitement, "you refuse my child Christian burial, and you speak those dreadful words. I say, sir, do you wish me to believe that my poor, tender infant, fresh given to us by God, has gone to everlasting punishment for what it could not help--my neglect, as you call it?" "I have told you that I cannot enter into a controversy with you; these are matters such as you cannot understand." "Then I swear--" roared Morrison. "Stop!" exclaimed the Curate. "Thomas Morrison, my good friend, you are angry and excited now, and will be saying words that, when cooler, you may repent." "This is little better than an outrage," said the Rector, in whose cheeks two angry spots now glowed. "Allow me to speak, sir," said the Curate, firmly. "I speak on behalf of that fold whose fences you accused me of neglecting." The Rector turned upon him wonderingly, while the wrath of the wheelwright was quelled by the calm, stern words of the little man who now stood before them. "Morrison," he continued, "I have been a clergyman many years, and, God helping me, it has been my earnest work to try and convince my people of the love and tenderness of the Father of all for His children. Whenever a dogma of the Church has been likely to seem harsh to our present day ideas, I have let it rest, knowing how much there is of that which is just and good in our grand old religion. Mr Mallow, as your subordinate, sir, I may seem presumptuous. You are an older man than I, and perhaps a wiser, but I ask you, sir, with no irreverent feeling, whether, if it were possible that He who said, `Suffer little children to come unto Me, and forbid them not,' were holding your position here-- the God as man and teacher of the people of this parish--He would act as you are acting? Would He not deal with such a canon as He did with the teachings of the Pharisees? Why, sir, He took little children into His arms, and blessed them, and said, `Of such is the kingdom of heaven.'" He paused for a moment, while the Rector stood calm, stern, and cold, with his eyes once more half closed, covered in his cold church armour, and a pitying smile of contempt upon his lip; while Morrison stayed, angry still, but with quivering lip, and his hand upon the door.