"And not very far out, either," said the vicar, smiling. "They are paid a salary, at all events, if they do not get a commission, to beg as much money as they can for the society to which they belong; and they do their work well, too! They succeed in carrying off an amount of money from poor parishes, which if laid out in the places where it is garnered, instead of being devoted to alien expenditure, would do far more good, and better advance the work of the Gospel than the conversion of a few renegade Jews, whose reclamation is, in the majority of cases, but a farce!" "But, my dear sir!"--exclaimed Mr Mawley, completely shocked at this overturning of all his prejudices. "Hear me out," continued the vicar; "you must not misunderstand me. I'm not opposed to the principles of missions; but, to their being promoted to the disregard of all other considerations. Saint Paul says that we should do good to all, and especially to such as are `of the household of faith.' Our missionary societies never seem to consider this. The endless number of charity sermons that we have to preach for their aid, not only extracts too much of what should be spent for the benefit of our own special communities, but militates against our getting contributions to other works of greater utility. Our congregations become so deadened by _these_ repeated onslaughts on their benevolence, that they button up their pockets and respond in only a half-hearted way when we claim their assistance for _our own_ poor and parish. Let us, I say, look at home first, and reclaim the lost, the fallen, the destitute in our streets; let us convert our own `heathen,'--our murderers, our drunkards, our wife-beaters, our thieves, our adulterers; and, _then_, let us talk of converting Hindoos and regenerating the Jews! Our duty, Mawley, as I hold my commission, is to preach Christ's gospel in all its truth and simplicity and love. We do not want to run down this or that creed, however reprehensible we may think it. Let us be judged by our deeds, and acts, and words. Let us show forth _our_ way of salvation, as we have learnt it: another authority, greater than us, will tell the world in his own good time which is _the_ faith!" A short pause ensued, after the vicar had thus spoken; none of us cared, for the moment, to pass on to the empty nothings of every-day talk. Seraphine Dasher was the first to break the silence. Seeing that Miss Spight had turned to address Monsieur Parole d'Honneur, who sat by her side, the good-natured Frenchman having accompanied us, to "assist at the fete" of his friend, "the good vicaire," as he said, the wicked little seraph created a diversion. "Gracious, Miss Spight," she exclaimed, "how you are flirting!" The indignation of the austere virgin, and the warmth with which she repelled this accusation, caused us all so much amusement, that in another moment or two we were in the full swing again of our ordinary chatter.