who stated that a friend had placed them at his disposal, and whose name it was not wished to divulge. It is in the Early English style, and consists of a chancel, nave, and south aisle, with a noble tower; and is fitted with open kneelings for about 900 persons. A beautiful east window of five lights, by Wailes, containing ten subjects from the Old and New Testaments; with a neat reredos of oak, in the centre of which rises the sacred initials surmounted by a solid gilt cross; carved stone angels support the roof. The west window in the tower represents S. Barnabas, and that at the western extremity of the aisle, S. Paul. The remaining windows in the aisle are filled with neat quarries. There is also a handsome stone font. The organ is placed on the floor, and there are no galleries. Altogether this church is most successful, and the architect, Mr. Ashpitel, well deserves the praise that has been bestowed on his work. At a quarter to eight o'clock, A.M., the S. George's ensign was hoisted on the tower, and the bell tolled for Holy Communion, which was celebrated by the incumbent, the Rev. C. J. Daniell, assisted by the Rev. Charles Ingham Black, curate. At half-past ten a more numerous congregation were called together by "the sweet church chimes," when morning prayer was said by the Rev. C. I. Black; the responses being led in monotone by a small choir; the Amens being harmonised. The Venite, Te Deum, and Jubilate, were sung to the church tones, as lately arranged by the Rev. T. Helmore. The anthem was "O praise GOD in His Holiness," Weldon. For the introit, the 1st, 2nd, 3rd, to 5th verses of the 122nd Psalm were sung to S. James's tune. Kyrie Eleesons were by Tallis. After the creed, the Rev. C. J. Daniell ascended the pulpit; a short symphony being played on the organ. At the conclusion of an earnest and affectionate discourse, the offertory was proceeded with, and after the prayer for the whole state of CHRIST'S Church, the blessing was pronounced and the congregation left the church. At about half-past one, about thirty or forty poor communicants were entertained in a tent erected on the lawn belonging to Mr. J. M. Yetts, who kindly threw open his spacious grounds for that purpose. The tent was appropriately decorated with festoons of flowers, in addition to various devices, also of flowers, among which we may mention the symbol of the Holy Trinity, the sacred monogram, mitre, &c. After grace had been sung by the choir, the repast was enjoyed thoroughly, the old folks being waited on by the churchwardens, assisted by several of the parishioners. Dinner over, and grace sung, the queen's health was responded to, and "GOD save the Queen sung, if not melodiously, at least heartily. The health of their respected priest was then drunk with cheering, and the party dispersed loud in their expressions of gratitude and esteem to their pastor; and, let us hope with deep-felt aspirations to

the ALMIGHTY for having planted His Church in a district hitherto nearly destitute of spiritual supervision, and where now the privilege is afforded them of daily offering up their praises and thanksgivings for the great mercies vouchsafed unto them. On a future occasion, we shall be glad to record the celebration of evening service, which was omitted. We have to add, that ground is obtained, but money is now wanting to build a school, of which this parish is deficient. May the time not be far distant when that will be supplied.

A MORNING AT ELLESMERE CHURCH.

NOT many country churches have been restored with more care and judgment than S. Mary's, Ellesmere, and very few are better adapted to the purposes of worship. Formerly a cruciform church of small dimensions, it has been greatly enlarged, and in the true sense of the word, beautified.

The church, as it now stands, is nearly all modern; the chancel having been restored by Wyatville, in the incorrect manner of his day; and the remainder restored or rebuilt within the last two years, by means of the munificence of the vicar and some good churchmen among his neighbours. The later work is most excellent, and in the true spirit of the Early English style. In one or two instances indeed, there seems to have been exercised a good deal of conformity to the errors of the above architect, but we presume unavoidably.

In the interior of the church there is great simplicity, but yet not barrenness; for the mouldings of the arches are deeply cut, and the dripstones terminate in well carved bosses of foliage, or heads of sovereigns and prelates. In the aisles there are several memorial windows, including a large one at the west end. Their simple dedicatory inscriptions raise in the mind pleasing visions of the widow and the orphan, who find consolation beneath the shadow of their Church, and rejoice in the good hope of their lost ones. The east window will not bear praising, but others in the chancel are in excellent keeping, not least of all those filled with plain emblematical quarries. The pulpit is of stone, admirably carved and simple in its arrangement, contrasting well with some of the mighty erections that "shut out the light" (in more senses than one) of our altars. Ascending several steps, we pass into the chancel, through the gates of a dwarf screen, in parts of which we see the good effect of colour judiciously applied to oak carving. The floor of the chancel is paved with Minton's tiles, which within the sacrarium and upon the footpace are of elaborate character. The stalls are handsome; and the altar exhibits the munificence of several do

nors in a floriated cross upon the altar-cloth, with candelabra and alms-dishes. Adjoining the chancel is a roof of exquisite beauty and of Perpendicular workmanship; it has been carefully restored, and certainly not without deserving it.

We

are not quite satisfied, however, with such a free use of the fleur-de-lys, as is now the fashion. Its national character is more evident than its symbolical. In mediæval times, indeed, this was an additional recommendation to it in England, but now it seems a heavy objection.

The occasion of our visit was a confirmation. The candidates were about 300 in number, seated on either side of the nave, and presented as they always do, a pleasing picture of simplicity and innocence. After the Litany had been sung, by the vicar, (the Reverend W. Day) and the choir, the latter sang the shorter "Veni Creator Spiritus." The Bishop of Lichfield then addressed the candidates with much emphasis. He did not omit to impress upon them the truth of that great doctrine, which has lately been so discussed, but made it the great ground of their responsibility. He also urged the necessity of their following up confirmation by coming to Holy Communion, enjoined obedience to their pastors, and spoke much of the use of the Holy Scripture, whose doctrines he asserted to be summed up in the creeds. The Bishop's address was not less refreshing to some of his adult hearers, than instructive to the candidates for confirmation. Two of the clergy, in their surplices, then took up their stations in the nave. As each candidate passed from their hands, they were received by another priest at the gates of the chancel, who took their tickets of qualification. The vicar saw that decorum was observed in the chancel, and on their return similar order was kept up. Now and then, in the intervals between the arrivals of the candidates at the altar, the neighbouring organ sent forth its sweet symphonies, which made a very appropriate accompaniment to the ceremony, a custom that it would be well to follow in other churches. The Bishop and Clergy adjourned to the vicarage after the service. In the vicarage and some adjoining buildings a small college of twenty boys has been established at the cost of the vicar. They live and are educated, in fact, beneath his roof; and are a well conducted body of lads, doing great credit to the discipline they are under. From this college the boys are selected for the choir; this in itself is a very excellent arrangement; but one cannot but look with great satisfaction upon the prospect offered to us; when from many an institution of this kind, the result of private benevolence, well disciplined and religious lads shall go out into society, acting as missionaries almost unseen, upon the apathy and irreligion of the present generation.

J. H. B.

"Where once we dwelt our name is heard no more,
Children not thine may tread' my nursery floor."

COWPER.

THE way of life at Fern Torr parsonage was so quiet as to afford few subjects for narration. Mrs. Wortley was a gentle, sensible person, very fond of Marian and Gerald, both for their own sake and their mother's, and to be with her was to them as like being at home as anything could be. Agnes was quite wrapped up in her friend, whom she pitied so heartily, and was to lose so soon. She had known no troubles except through Marian, she reverenced Marian's griefs, and in her respect for them was inclined to spoil her not a little. Then, though nothing against the Lyddells had ever been said to Agnes, she had caught all Marian's prejudiced dislike to them, and sometimes in lively exaggeration, sometimes in grave condolence, talked of them as "these horrid people."

Marian felt every day was precious as it passed, and the time seemed to her far less than two months, when one day there arrived a letter from Mrs. Lyddell to announce that the family were about to leave London, and in the course of a week Mr. Lyddell would come to fetch her and Gerald to Oakworthy.

The letter was kindly expressed, but this was lost upon Marian in the pain its purport gave her, and the difficulty of composing an answer. She chose her smallest sheet of writing-paper with the deepest black edge, wrote as widely as she could, and used the longest words, but with all Mrs. Wortley's suggestions, she could not eke out what she had to say beyond the first page. She would not even send her love to her cousins, for she said she could have no particular affection for them, and to express any pleasure in the prospect of seeing so many strangers would be an actual untruth.

What a week was that which followed! Marian loved her home with that enthusiasm which especially belongs to the inhabitants of mountainous districts, and still more acutely did she feel the separation from all that reminded her of her parents. If she had not had Gerald to go with her she did not know how she

could have borne it, but Gerald, her own beautiful brother, with his chesnut curls, dark bright eyes, sweet temper, and great cleverness and goodness, he must be a comfort to her wherever she was. Gerald was one of those children who seem to have a peculiar atmosphere of bright grace and goodness around them, who make beautiful earnest sayings in their simplicity which are treasured up by their friends, who, while regarding them with joy and something like veneration, watch them likewise with fear and trembling. Thus had his mother looked upon Gerald, and thus in some degree did Mrs. Wortley; but Marian had nothing but pride, joy, and confidence in him, unalloyed save now and then by the secret, half superstitious fear that such goodness might mark him for early death.

By Marian's own especial desire, she went to almost every cottage to take leave, but all she could do was to stand with her head averted and her lips compressed, while Mrs. Wortley spoke for her. Her next task was to look over the boxes and drawers at the manor house, in case it should be let; for no one else could be trusted to decide what hoards of highly prized trifles should be locked up, and what must be thrown away. She alone could choose the little keepsakes to be given to old servants and village friends, and she' must select what she would take to Oakworthy.

She stood lingering before each picture, viewing the old familiar furniture with loving eyes, and sighing at the thought that strangers would alter the arrangements, look carelessly or critically on her father's portrait, think her wild garden a collection of weeds, and root up the flowering fern which Edmund had helped her to transplant. She went into her own room, and felt almost ready to hate the person who might occupy it; she lay down on the bed, and looking up at the same branch of lime tree, and the same piece of sky which had met her eyes every morning, she mused there till she was roused by hearing Gerald's voice very loud in the nursery. Hastening thither, she found him insisting that his collection of stones and spars was much too precious to mend the roads with, as their maid Saunders proposed, and Agnes settling the matter satisfactorily by offering to adorn a certain den in the vicarage garden with them. The ponies were to be turned out to grass, the rabbits were bestowed on James Wortley, and Ranger was to be kept at the vicarage till Edmund could come and fetch him, together with his books, which Marian had to look out, and she found it a service of difficulty, since "Edmund Gerald" could scarcely be said to answer the purpose of a proper name in the Arundel family.

The last day at home arrived, the eve of S. James. Marian went to prepare her class at the weekly school, resolved to do just as usual to the last. She had to read them the conversation on S. James's Day in "Fasts and Festivals," but she could hardly get through with it, the separation between early friends reminded her