[To the Editor of the SPECTATOR.] SIR, —A propos to
Mr. Noel Cornish's. article in the Spectator of January 28th, a certain strong-minded " squarson," in the 'fifties of last century, was the self-appointed spiritual adviser of the chief village of the largish estate owned by him, and his benevolent rule over all and sundry within his praetorship to the uninitiated seemed at times not far removed from tyranny. A young shepherd's wife had brought her first-born
child to be christened, and she lisped in speaking, - - When ordered to " name this child ! " she timidly uttered Lucy, Sir ! " " Lucifer ! I Nonsense ! " quoth the holy but hasty magnate, and, assuming all the rights of an im- promptu godparent, without a moment's hesitation went on with the service, " John, I baptize thee, &e." He was quite annoyed when waylaid on his return from church by the plaintive and perplexed mother of the babe with the shy protest, " You've done my baby John ' and her's a wench."— I am, Sir, &c.,
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