sank deep into the earth. Then the ivy sighed and said, "How will the good elm fare? If it only be not utterly destroyed by the frost!" At length the spring drew near; snowdrops and violets raised their little heads to discover if it were warm. The birch let its green streamers wave, and the apple and cherry trees put on their red and white wreaths. But the branches of the elm were bare and leafless-no buds, no little green leaves sprouted from them.

Then wept the ivy, and said, "Ah! it is dead, my true protector, my beloved friend! I can no more rejoice in the spring, for I am lonely." And the other trees said, "Why wilt thou still cling to the dead tree? Loosen thyself, and come to us who are fresh and green." But the ivy replied, "Far be it from me to repay the benefits of the dead tree with such despicable ingratitude. In life I entwined my leaves tenderly around it, and in death will I be to it a garland of mourning and gratitude." Thus spoke the ivy, and its leaves decorated the beloved elm even in death.-Bessoldt.

Church News.

DEDICATION FEAST OF S. JOHN THE BAPTIST, HARLOW, ESSEX.

IT is no less remarkable than gratifying to our own feelings, that the above is the first festival we have to chronicle in our pages, since the announcement we made in our last number. We know of no parish in which the spirit of the past seems more to live and breathe, and where there is a fuller realization of what the Church is than the parish of Harlow. Here the Vicar is indeed looked up to as the "parson" of the parish, the friend and adviser of his people, the centre of his family. Here the divine principle of tithes is duly respected, and will continue to be so in spite of the efforts of the so-called Tithe Commissioners, who would substitute a human device for a divine ordinance; here we have three Churches for a population of somewhat above two thousand people, two of which have been raised through the instrumentality of the Rev. C. Miller. In these Churches there are daily prayers, morning and evening; weekly communions; and the offerings of the people produce a sum far surpassing what is gained in other ways in many larger and wealthier parishes. Besides, the festivals of the Church

are spent as festivals, and celebrated with all the solemnities of religion, and the rites of a holy brotherhood.

It is therefore no matter of surprise that Churchmen from far and wide were gathered together on the seventh Dedication Feast of S. John Baptist. The morning was indeed most beautiful: and those who are pent up in large towns could not but feel their ruffled spirits soothed, as they enjoyed the calm of incensebreathing morn, and listened to the songs of the happy birds. At an early hour the guests began to arrive. The early train from town conveyed large numbers of Clergy and laity, whilst others came from the surrounding villages in carriages, gigs, ay, and humble carts. All ranks and classes met with joyous and prayerful hearts to keep the festal day. Having robed at the parsonage, the Clergy proceeded to the Church, which was most beautifully and tastefully decorated for the occasion. The congregation, which filled the Church in every part, rose up and stood until the Clergy, twenty-two in number, had taken their places within the chancel. Morning prayers having been sung at an early hour, the Communion office was commenced by the Rev. C. M. M'Leod. The sermon was preached by the Rev. J. Davies, M. A., Rector of Abbenhall, Gloucestershire. This discourse is certainly one of the most admirable and comprehensive ever delivered on a similar occasion, and we consider ourselves especially fortunate in being allowed to give effect to the unanimous wish of the Clergy gathered together on this interesting occasion, by publishing it in our Magazine. We are sure that our readers will peruse it with delight and profit.

It was a joyous sight to witness two hundred of all degrees, knit in the bond of unity, and partaking at one common table of the holy Communion of the Body and Blood of CHRIST. From the table of the LORD they proceeded to the common table, and two hundred and fifty (Clergy, gentry, farmers, and labourers) partook of a substantial dinner, which was provided from a portion of the offerings of the day. This, indeed, carried the mind back to the purest ages of the Church, to those happy days of unity and love, when, under the guidance of the Apostles, the disciples were of one mind and one heart. A banner, with the inscription of Church and Queen, waved over the festive board. At the conclusion of the dinner, the toast of "Church and Queen" was given by the Rev. C. Miller, who presided over the happy company, and who in a very felicitous manner described that true "Fraternity, Equality, and Liberty" which English Churchmen enjoy. GOD save the

Queen" was then sung most heartily, and loud plaudits, such as honest yeomen give, burst from the assembled group. Various other toasts were given; and at four, evensong was said in the

old parish Church, of which we purpose ere long to give a description. Tea, toasts, and other amusements followed, and at eight o'clock the whole concluded with "Rule Britannia," which was sung in a warm old English style.

This is but a faint description of a holyday, such as the Church would have us enjoy; a day of innocent festivities, sanctioned and consecrated by holy services. As we have before expressed ourselves, so now we reiterate our opinion, that it is impossible to calculate the benefits that result from these meetings, in which there is the holiest and most cheering communion. They bind Churchmen one to another. They show that there is but one body, consisting of many members. They tend to confirm the wavering, and to cheer the despairing; and to bind rich and poor in ties that cannot be broken. They deepen love for the good old Church of England, and cherish loyalty in the hearts of the people. GOD speed the day when such festivals shall be kept throughout the length and breadth of the land. GOD speed the day when Churchmen will re-echo the words of Alford, and sing :

"Hush down the sounds of quarrel;

Let party names alone;

Let brother join with brother,
And England claim her own;

In battle with the mammon-host
Join peasant, clerk, and Lord,
Sweet charity your banner-flag,
And GOD FOR ALL your word."

W. B. F.

The Children's Corner.

STORIES OF VILLAGE MAIDENS.
CHAP. VI.

AN EXPEDITION ON THE DOWNS.

It is now quite time that my young readers should know the name of the village in which all these events related in the previous chapters happened. The name of our village was Moreld. It was remarkably situated on a sort of ledge on the side of a steep hill, on the top of which stood the ancient but not very large town of Darton. The hill which separated the village from the town was so steep, that few persons would choose to ascend it unless on business; the consequence of which was, that we enjoyed the advantages of a market town close at hand, with the

pleasures of a retired country life. The good housewives of Moreld could carry up their home-made loaves to the ovens of the Darton bakers; and my sister Margaret could accomplish a whole morning's shopping with ten minutes' walking from our own fireside. Yet the people of Darton seldom appeared in our village, because they could not walk down Bream Hill without the trouble of toiling up it again. From our garden on the hill-side we commanded a lovely view over a wide and wellwooded valley, bounded on one side by a conical hill, a beautiful object from all points of the valley, and in shape not much unlike Mount Vesuvius. A thickly-wooded hill, scarcely less beautiful in form, closed in the valley on the other side, and was joined, in a continuous range, to the hill on which the town of Darton stood. From the middle of the valley gleamed the broad white tower of the mother Church; and upon our own little Church we looked down across the chief part of the village which lay between. About three miles on the further side of Darton lay the smooth, rounded, yet lofty downs of Salisbury Plain.

It was some weeks after little Mary Stone had been received into full favour, that the incidents happened that I am about to relate.

On the festival of S. Barnabas, one thousand eight hundred, and guess, the sun rose bright and clear about five o'clock in the morning. And it was no deceitful sunrise, for the day was beautifully fine till sunset. Many little girls rose early that morning, and sat down to their buttons with the dawning day, wishing to get through as much work as they could before the pleasures of the day began, for they had a great treat in view, as I and Miss Herbert had promised to take them out for a walk upon the Downs, as soon as morning prayers were over. At a quarter before nine o'clock the Church bell began. The buttons were quickly put away, shut up in a little box with a sliding lid, and the box wrapped up in a green cloth, which was always spread upon the children's knees when they worked, for the benefit of their eyes, which were much tired by the dazzling whiteness of the buttons, and the closely wrapped threads, between which they so rapidly passed the needle up and down. Bonnets and shawls were quickly put on, and a little party of about twelve or fourteen joined the younger children on their way

from the school-room to the Church.

When morning prayers were over, the children of the Sunday first class assembled themselves in my garden. They then formed in procession two and two, passed through the town, and took the road leading to Honeybud Hill, the nearest of the Downs to Darton. My sister and I soon mounted on horseback

and rode after them. We overtook them just as they were leaving the town behind them. The first thing was to give them leave to disperse, and walk, run, and play as they pleased. In half a minute they were scattered abroad, and in half a minute more had paired again, as choice led them. Eliza Anstey and Lucy Stone walked arm in arm as sober and staid as two old women. Kate Anstey and little Mary Stone possessed themselves of two little switches, and began to rap one another's knuckles. Dora Wales and Bessie Flower hunted for violets in the hedge-rows. But this did not last long. Kate and Mary came slyly behind them, and used their hazel twigs with so much vigour, that Dora and Bessie were glad to make their escape; and you may easily guess they were not long in finding something wherewith to defend themselves. When the play became too rough, one word from me was enough, and the sticks were all thrown over the hedge, and in two minutes more the whole party were out of sight. They ran off like hares, and disappeared in the turnings of the narrow lane. Margaret and I rode on quietly, and soon rejoined our little party, or rather came in sight of them, scattered over a large field on the right, gathering cowslips. At length we reached the foot of Honeybud hill. My sister and I dismounted, and put up our horses at a little cottage on the road side; and we altogether began to climb the bill which was very steep. They were a merry party of little girls, and the fresh cool air of the Downs made them merrier. Halfway up the hill we sat down to rest, whilst those who did not need rest amused themselves with rolling flints down the smooth hillside, and watching how far they would roll. A few minutes more climbing brought us to the top. At once we turned to see the glorious view of the country spread below us, lighted up by the bright sunshine, and variegated by the passing shadows which fell from the light fleecy clouds above. Miss Herbert and I pointed out to each other, or to one of the children, a few of the most beautiful objects, while they gazed in silence. It is very remarkable that children seldom say anything about beautiful scenery, yet it makes an impression upon them which is never effaced. Many such glorious pictures of the lovely earth, which GOD made good, are painted on the minds of children, and recalled with peculiar pleasure when childhood has long passed away. And now the little band spread themselves over the level surface of the Downs, and were soon deep in the mysteries of thread-the-needle and other girlish games, which I cannot pretend to explain in a book, however much I may have enjoyed witnessing them. So the time passed away, and their little baskets displayed their stores of bread and cheese, and dinner was eaten with good appetites; after which a hymn was sung,