PREFACE. ANOTHER Christmas welcome to our kind friends we are called upon to give, yet a welcome sobered much by saddening thoughts. About to commemorate that joyous season when first were spoken, peace on earth, and goodwill to men; we feel that, instead thereof, on this occasion are spiritual wars, and rumours of wars. Events of importance to our Church and ourselves have followed in quick succession. The denial of our baptismal services, the decision on ecclesiastical matters by secular judges, have been succeeded by the attempt of the Pope of Rome to throw a stigma on the catholicity of the English Church, to invalidate her orders, and ignore her very existence. Under these circumstances we feel it right to inform our readers, that in our subsequent pages we shall present them with articles intended to show the real position of our Church, and, from the historical records of the past, draw up a brief summary of such facts as may seem necessary for these days. We feel it right, when hearts are failing, to assure them that our every affection will be given to our spiritual mother-more faithfully, if possible, than heretofore; and that we will neither go beyond, nor fall short of her scriptural and catholic teaching. And at the same time we would earnestly exhort them to stand fast in the faith, to quit them like men, and be strong; and to enter into the full spirit of the beautiful exhortation with which one of her most faithful and laborious sons concludes an important sermon preached on the fifth of November :*-" Let us," says the Reverend Alexander Watson, "be ready with our hearts to love her, and CHRIST in her, the LORD of life: with our heads to plan for her, and do her service—with our feet to run swiftly in all the paths of holy obedience : let us be ready with our voices to give utterance to her sainted litanies of supplication, and prayers of thanksgiving, and songs of praise; let us be ready with our hands to bestow our alms upon her altars, and to train her little ones in her faith, and to send forth her Bishops, Priests, and Deacons -her Bible and her Prayer Book, into all the waste places of our Zion at home, and to spread the knowledge of GOD and of His CHRIST by the power of the eternal Spirit in distant climes; and then the thunders of the Vatican, though they be loud, shall not drown the whispers with which an approving conscience shall be enabled to anticipate the welcome Coming of the Son of Man, by the feeling that, though having done far less than all that was required of us, we are still unprofitable servants: yet it may be that having fought the fight and kept the faith -having withstood in the evil day, and having been supported by the grace of GOD to stand-we shall, not for our merits, but for His love-not as of wages, but as of His free grace-be greeted with the cheering words:'Well done, thou good and faithful servant; enter thou into the joy of thy LORD.'" STOKE DAMEREL, Nov. 18, 1850. "The Church's own Action the safeguard of the Church and Realm of England from Romish Aggression." 45, 96, 163, 239, 294, 340 146 126, 192, 256 339 348 63 189 314 A Morning at Ellesmere Church Anniversary Festival of the Consecration of the Church of S. Michael the Archangel, Baldiu Consecration of S. John's Cathedral, Newfoundland Consecration of S. Peter's, Plymouth, and the Laying of the 306 Preaching of CHRIST the Joy of Christians Recollections of the Last Service at Margaret Chapel, Easter- Tide 179 17 Thoughts on Dying 271 Thoughts on the Season Two Gamekeepers, the; or, Forgive us our Trespasses, as we forgive them that trespass against us ALONG a beautiful Devonshire lane, with banks of rock overhung by tall bowery hedges, rode a lively and merry pair, now laughing and talking, now summoning by call or whistle the spaniel that ran by their side, or careered through the fields within the hedge. The younger was a maiden of about twelve years old, in a long black and white plaid riding-skirt, over a pink gingham frock, and her dark hair hidden beneath a little cap furnished with a long green veil, which was allowed to stream behind her in the wind, instead of affording the intended shelter to a complexion already a shade or two darkened by the summer sun, but with little colour in the cheeks; and what there was, only the pale pink glow like a wild rose, called up for the moment by warmth and exercise, and soon to pass away. Still there was no appearance of want of health: the skin was of a clear, soft, fresh shade of brown; the large dark eyes, with all their depth of melancholy softness, had the wild untamed animation of a mountaineer; the face and form were full of free life and vigour, as she sat erect and perfectly at ease on her spirited little bay pony, which at times seemed so lively that it might have been matter of surprise to a stranger that so young a horsewoman should be trusted on its back. Her companion was a youth some ten or eleven years her senior, possessing a handsome set of regular features, with a good deal of family likeness to hers; dark eyes and hair, and a figure which, though slight, was rather too tall to look suitable to the small, stout, strong pony which carried him and his numerous equipments, consisting of a long rod-case, a fishing-basket and landingnet, in accordance with the lines of artificial flies wreathed round his straw hat, and the various oddly contrived pockets of his grey shooting-coat. |