to be received into His holy Church. As the ark of Noah was the only refuge in the waters of the flood, so is the Church of Christ the only home of safety in which men can be preserved from the wickedness of the world, and brought to the land of everlasting life.

The mother holds her infant in her arms, hushing him with her gentle voice, and blessing him in her heart; and thanking God, Who allows her so soon to make her child His child; thanking God, that the heir of a sinful nature may be made a member of Christ's everlasting Church; that she, who through weakness is so unable to keep her child from sin and danger, may place him under the care of an Almighty Father. For all this, she thanks God in her heart.

The font stands near the door of the church. It is ready to receive the new Christian. When the time comes for the baptismal service to begin, the sponsors bring the infant near the font: the mother looks on, with anxious tenderness. Then the minister of Christ comes near to the holy fountain of Christian life. As the streams spring out of the earth at God's bidding, to water the young trees and flowers, to make them grow and flourish, so the water of life stands ready in the House of God, to give life to the souls of men. His minister is

there, ready to speak the sacred words which bring down blessings greater than our hearts can conceive. Those sacred words are spoken by the appointed shepherd of Christ's flock; and he offers up his prayers, and the prayers of the congregation, in the words of our holy mother the Church. The helpless infant is prayed for. The baptismal vow is made for him. He is received into the communion of the faithful; he is signed with the sign of the cross; he is dedicated to God; he is bound to be Christ's faithful soldier and servant unto his life's end.

The mother has taken back her child. He is now made a child of grace. The words she has heard still sound in her ears; she prays to God in her heart that her child may be carried safely over the waves of this troublesome world; that he may always remember his Christian profession. When she looks at his quiet sleep, she thinks of the mark which has been made upon his forehead; she knows that at the day of judgment he will either be marked as the child of grace for ever, or condemned for the abuse of blessings lavished upon him: she thinks of this, and prays more earnestly. When she looks at the white robes in which she has dressed him, she sees in them a token that he is now washed clean, and covered with the robe of Christ's righteousness. She

prays that he may keep his garment unspotted and undefiled; she prays that he may be taken into his Father's kingdom, and arrayed in white robes of glory, which can never be soiled. She prays that whenever her dear child may be called away from this world, he may be taken to the rest "which remaineth for the people of God;" and her heart sinks at the thought of her darling being taken from her; but she gives him up to God, who lent him to her.

With such thoughts, she passes by the grassy graves and the grey stones of the churchyard, seeing the flowers spring up fresh and blooming like her infant, listening to her neighbours' kind words and good wishes, and clasping her baby close as she walks quietly home.

"And a man shall be as an hiding-place from the wind, and a covert from the tempest; as rivers of water in a dry place, as the shadow of a great rock in a weary land." ISAIAH XXXii. 2.

Ir is a sultry noon of summer.

The sun

shines without a cloud, only there is a haze in the heated air; not a breath of wind is stirring. The trees are of a heavy green, the grass is brown, and the road is dusty.

The mother who once brought her son to her parish-church to be baptised, is now walking with weary steps along the road, on her way to the cathedral of the neighbouring

town.

Her son is that day to be confirmed there, and she could not stay away; but she is heated and tired, and can hardly reach her journey's end.

At last she finds herself at the door of the cathedral. She looks in through the stone archway, so richly carved and so beautiful in its form, and even before she is within the holy building, her eye is refreshed by the cool and solemn shade; it seems like the difference between the world and the Church, to see such wearisome glare without, such quietness within.

Gladly and reverently she crosses its thres hold; the deep shadows spread around her; here and there a ray of sunshine finds its way in, not glaring and oppressive as on her weary road, but rather like a messenger of hope. The ancient font, where so many infants have been grafted into God's family, catches the light; she looks at it as she passes by. Far before her, she sees through the open doors into the choir, the holiest sanctuary of the holy building. On either side of her are the monuments of the dead.

She enters the choir. It is filled with those young Christians who have come this day to receive confirmation. They are arranged in rows; some are in shade, on others the light streams in through the painted windows, rich, and soft, and varied.