understand that our LORD in such cases is not really present in the Sacrament?—No, GOD cannot deny Himself. But the unworthy persons eat and drink their own condemnation.

Who are the proper ministrants of the Sacraments?-The Priesthood. It was to the Apostles that the LORD gave the Commission, “ Go and Baptize," "Do" (offer) the Holy Eucharist. And while our LORD was on earth the Apostles occupied the second place in the ministry. Is Baptism only performed by Priests?-Deacons may baptize, and even lay people, if necessary.

Is the Eucharist ever celebrated by other than Priests ?—No, never. What is the reason of this difference?-As Baptism is the only way which we know of for admission to the benefits of salvation by CHRIST, it is considered right that in the unavoidable absence of a Priest, a lay man or woman should baptize an infant (or adult) that is at the point of death.

What conditions are required for Lay Baptism?-The person baptizing should be in full communion with the Church, and he must be very careful that water touches the flesh of the baptized, and must use the appointed words, "In the name of the FATHER, and of the SON, and of the HOLY GHOST."

Baptism, of course, cannot be done over again, but is there any way of supplementing it ?—Yes, Confirmation may be regarded as the completion of Baptism, (see Acts viii. and xix.), as in it the HOLY GHOST is given in full measure.

Why may not the Holy Eucharist be celebrated in urgent cases by a layman ?-(1) Because the Eucharist is the Presentation of the Sacrifice of CHRIST once offered on the Cross: it is therefore itself a sacrifice, and none but a Priest (S. Paul tells us, Heb. v. 1, &c.) can offer a sacrifice. (2) Further, a baptized person is already in a "state of salvation," and we believe that if anything hinders persons from receiving Holy Communion when they earnestly desire It, GOD will not suffer them to be losers to any serious extent.

We have already seen what is meant by Faith, tell me of what parts Repentance consists ?-It consists of three parts-Contrition, Confession, and Amendment of Life.

What is meant by Contrition ?-Sorrow for sin.

To whom should Confession be made?-First of all to Almighty GOD. "Whoso hideth his sins shall not prosper; but he that confesseth and forsaketh shall find mercy."

Does Holy Scripture recommend any other kind of Confession?— Yes, to one another. S. James says, "Confess your faults one to another."

What other kind of Confession do you know of?-What is called Sacramental Confession, i.e., which is made to a Priest, in order that the penitent may receive Absolution.

What authority is there for this in Holy Scripture ?-Joshua directed Achan to confess his sin to him, as GOD's minister, as well as to Almighty GOD (Joshua vii. 19.) Our LORD also said to His Apostles, who were to appoint others after them, "Receive ye the HOLY GHOST: Whosesoever sins ye remit, they are remitted unto them; and whosesoever sins ye retain, they are retained."

How can persons prove their repentance further ?-By making compensation to those whom they have injured.

What else is required to constitute a worthy Communicant ?—He must be in charity with all men.

Why is charity specially required at the time ?-The one loaf (bread) from which it is celebrated, being made from many ears of wheat, is said by S. Paul to be typical of the unity which ought to prevail among Christians, (1 Cor. x. 17,) and therefore to bring strife and division with us at such seasons is a direct dishonour to our LORD JESUS CHRIST, Who instituted it, and prayed that His Church might be one even as He and the FATHER are One. (S. John xvii. 11.)

CONTRASTS.

BY THE AUTHOR OF A LEGEND OF RHOSBERRY TOPPING."

CHAPTER III.

ON the Monday another visitor arrived. This was Lieutenant Baker, R.N., Maud's fiancé, a good-looking, good-natured young sailor, overflowing with fun and animal spirits. His arrival was hailed with delight, for he was evidently a favourite of the entire household. He was an exception to the rule generally laid down in novels, that all lovers must necessarily be in a preoccupied state of mind, for he found time during his three days' visit to romp with the children, try over heaps of songs with the girls, and amuse them all by his droll

stories and jokes. Edmund, however, somewhat despised his flow of animal spirits, was provoked rather than amused by his nonsense, and thought Lieutenant Baker both boyish and absurd. Perhaps it was provoking just as Edmund was gleaning from Eleanor some information about old customs still kept up in Yorkshire, to have her called away by a request from the Lieutenant to play the accompaniment of "Tom Bowling" for him, in a manner which showed no doubt of her compliance, or to find it almost impossible to engage Mr. Ansley in a "reasonable" conversation without being interrupted by some appeal from one of the children to " Father" just to listen to what the Lieutenant had said. But still the unreasonable antipathy Edmund felt to Lieutenant Baker needed something more to account for it, and being honest with himself, he soon found out it was jealousy.

He was extremely startled at the discovery. What could it possibly matter to him that this man was more popular with the Ansleys than himself, when he despised the very means by which he attained this popularity? What could the Ansleys' opinion matter to him? And why should he feel so indignant at Lieutenant Baker's manner towards Eleanor, free like that of the brother he was so soon to become, unless it were that he cared for Eleanor herself in a way that . . . . but the idea was absurd, preposterous, and he at once dismissed it. Nevertheless he felt relieved when the Lieutenant's visit was ended, although he was obliged to listen to praise of him and lamentations about his departure, as well as to see the pleasure brought by the new music and songs he had imported into the vicarage. The time for Edmund Lindsaye's own departure drew near, but two days before he left, the Ansleys got up a picnic; it was only composed of their own party, but that was not a small one. The spot fixed on was some crags a little way off. A pretty place, the huge pieces of rock covering a slope, as though some giant's hand had thrown them there carelessly, and they had been suffered to lie where they fell, until the trees grew up between them, and the moss and crimson heather strove to hide their grim ruggedness. The Ansleys started immediately after breakfast, determined to spend a long day there. When they arrived at their destination, the younger children were almost wild with glee, as they raced here and there, swung on low branches, or played hide and seek amid the huge boulders of rock. Even Edmund Lindsaye seemed infected by their joyousness, and shook off some of his usual stiffness and gravity.

In the preparation for dinner plenty of amateur cookery was thought by the children to be an indispensable part of the fun, and Edmund was absolutely inveigled into helping to make the cakes, causing great mirth by his attempts, in spite of his endeavour to follow the instructions given him.

“Take care, Mr. Lindsaye, you have put in too much water," and to Edmund's dismay he saw a floury stream pouring from the flat rock where he was making his cake on to Hetta's dress.

"Oh, Miss Ansley, I am so sorry."

“Never mind, there is no harm done; go on mixing the flour and roll it out thinner."

But Edmund was saved from any more mistakes and the necessity of further apologies, by Jack calling to him at that moment to leave the cake-making to the girls, and come and help him to cover the potatoes with mud to prevent their being smoked.

Edmund went to his friend at once and found him standing on the edge of a bog bringing out handfuls of black mud with which he was coating the potatoes.

"Don't look so horrified," he said, laughing at Edmund's astonishment, “but come along and make yourself useful for once in your life," and he was obliged to help Jack in his task.

After dinner the heat obliged them all to rest a little. Maud and Hetta took out their drawing-books to sketch, whilst Jack stretched himself on the ground close by and began playing with their paints and making mischievous comments on their attempts. Mr. Ansley was engaged in telling the younger children stories and so keeping them quiet. Jenny and Eleanor with two of the boys strolled off towards a common at some little distance, from whence they reappeared just before tea time, looking rather hot and fagged, but with their baskets full of treasures, heather, bilberries, and stag moss; with the latter the girls proceeded to wreath their hats, and Edmund, who had never even seen the rare plant before, was constrained to admire its gracefulness.

The gipsy fire was soon made to boil the kettle for tea, and shortly after the lengthening shadows warned them that it was time to start homewards. They went on the ride and tie principle, a walking party starting first, and the pony carriage, with as many as it could conveniently hold, followed after, depositing its first load and picking up the walkers at a given spot.

So it happened that Edmund found himself walking with Eleanor and a tribe of the younger children through the fields along the towing path that led by the bank of the river. Eleanor still carried her basket of flowers to which from time to time she added fresh treasures. "Oh, what beautiful loose-strife," she suddenly exclaimed, “do get me a bit, Mr. Lindsaye."

Edmund looked about anxious to comply with her request, but without the vaguest idea what was the flower alluded to. One of the younger children perceived his perplexity and exclaimed in astonishment,

Why, don't you know loose-strife when you see it ?"

Eleanor hushed her little sister, and turning to Edmund Lindsaye, who stood looking half ashamed, said quickly,

"That large purple and crimson flower. Thank you," as Edmund broke off one or two pieces of it, "I think it is more lovely than ever this year."

"You must think me sadly ignorant of botany, I am afraid, Miss Ansley. I cannot profess to know the names of a quarter of the flowers around."

"Oh, I do not understand botany myself," she replied. "I only remember the common names of flowers, and you know it is rather difficult to live in the country all one's life without doing that."

'I am afraid I have lived in the country all my life,” said Edmund, somewhat drily," and yet I must plead guilty to knowing very little about wild flowers, and I suspect it is the same with my sisters, although I fancy they were taught the elements of botany in the schoolroom, as is customary, I believe, with most young ladies.”

"If your sisters have learnt botany they have decidedly the advantage of me," returned Eleanor, laughing. I should be much puzzled to tell you the different classes to which flowers belong. I hope, however, to learn that later on.'

"Then you do not consider your education finished? I fancied most young ladies considered that was the case when they grew up, and did not care to pursue their studies further."

He spoke sarcastically, and Eleanor looked up at him in some indignation.

"I hope you are mistaken in your estimate of young ladies in general; it must be a very poor sort of education that is finished at eighteen."

"I am glad to hear you think so," he rejoined, conscious of having