(as those members of our Church, who incline to the Protestant extreme would wish to act by the Prayer Book,)—is it proposed to alter or to omit the Articles? Why should we do this? Why are we to presume that Rome is right and

that England is wrong?

Rather in this instance as in the other, let us at least presume, that our Church is right, and let us be as resolutely opposed to Romish superstitions as we are to Ultra-Protestant errors. * Instead

of being ashamed of this our Providential position, when we are attacked by Ultra-Protestants, for not going far enough in the work of reformation, or when we are attacked by Papists for having gone too far, let us, on the contrary, consider the censure of the extremes, to be, as it is in truth, our highest eulogy.

"The Church by her ritual preaches Catholicism to Protestants; by her articles she protests against Popery to Catholics. In her Prayer Book she has something in common with other Catholics; in her articles she has something in common with other Protestants. She would Catholicise Protestants,—she would reform Catholics. *

"At all events, it is most clearly our duty, as members of the English Church, to endeavour to act on her principles, and in her spirit to carry out her intentions.

"The Church of England may have been destined to great things, if only her children will wait God's time-if they will remember that His ways are slower than our ways-if they will leave events to Him, and be themselves employed in the humble discharge of their duties, which their hand findeth them to do,-if they will ponder the path of their feet, and turn neither to their right hand, nor yet to the left."

S.

CONSIDER THE LILIES.-No. II.

THE SUNFLOWER.

I SAID Something to you in my opening chapter upon the association of ideas, and tried to show how a flower or any other object around us may possess a charm to our feelings, that is in some degree independent of its own beauty or worth, and it may not always be the prettiest flowers that we like the best, any more than it is the most valuable things that give us the most pleasure. Now this is particularly the case with the flower I am just about to write of, for besides wanting a flower's greatest charm, that of fragrance, it is not by many degrees one of the gardens' most lovely inhabitants; indeed many persons do not admire the sunflower at all, and yet I can never look upon its stately growth and broad expanded flower, which a poet has called "the golden cornfield of the bee," without a feeling of delight, were it but for the sake of the many bright and pleasant thoughts that have been linked to it at various times. The flower has received its name "sunflower" from its being the nature of the class of plants to which it belongs to turn their heads upon the stalk with the sun, as if they were following him from rising to setting; and this peculiarity has often caused it to be compared to faithful affection that never loses sight of the friend it loves, but follows on fixed and constant whether his fortunes may be on the rise or on the wane; and this has also caused it to be likened to stedfast devotion to a higher object, to the highest affection of which our hearts are capable, love to our best and Almighty

open to

Friend. Many flowers," says a German writer, " receive the sun, one alone follows him; be thou, my soul the sunflower, and not only open to receive thy God, but follow Him for ever." "Oh!" exclaimed a wise, great, and good man, now no more, upon seeing a remarkably large and beautiful specimen of this flower spreading itself to the warmth of the mid-day sun, "oh, that I could thus spread and expand my heart to receive within it the rays of the Sun of Righteousness." And there is yet another feature connected with the sunflowers from which we may draw a pleasant and instructive thought; it presents in itself a small, yet perfect image of the great luminary that it follows, and whose name it bears; with its innumerable narrow leaflets set round its broad bright golden disk like rays, it is quite a little sun in minature, as if, in as far as its lesser nature permitted, it had striven to grow like the grand and beautiful object if follows, and had made it an aim to resemble it as closely as was possible to a being so far below it.

Now, I think, my dear children, if we number this flower among the lilies our Blessed Saviour told us to "consider," the lesson it has in store for us will not be hard to learn. We are on earth as the sunflower is, and our Lord, like the sunflower's, is in heaven, yet as it follows the sun from dawn to dusk, so may we follow our Sun, the Source of Life and Light, and Glory, from the morning to the evening of our earthly day, with steady devoted eye and heart. Our Lord is also our Pattern,-He has said to us, "learn of Me." He has told us that in heaven one great blessedness of that happy place will be that we shall be like Him. Let

us then set Him always before us here; though we are parted from Him in body, as the sunflower is from the sun, by a wide space, still we can draw nigh unto Him by faith, still we can receive, as the flower does, the rays of His guiding, enlightening Spirit, if we will but spread our hearts wide to admit their holy influence; we can follow Him, we can look up to Him, we can fix our gaze upon Him, until by following, and looking, and gazing, we grow like the object we so truly love,-till we present a likeness, faint though it must be and imperfect, to Him whose blessed Image, if we obtain strength and grace to follow Him to the end, we shall one day bear in heavenly places,-where we shall look upon our Lord, and see Him as He is."where we shall look upon our King in His beauty, and behold the land that is very far off."

DORA GREENWELL.

THE UNREPAID LOAN.

A TRUE STORY.

CHARLES was one of the most regular attendants at a Sunday

School which the Rector of M

had established for young

men and lads, who, being engaged during the week in gaining their livelihood, were anxious to take advantage of their spare hours before Church time on Sundays, to obtain instruction on sacred subjects. This School was attended by numerous scholars, varying in age from fourteen to twenty years, and the Rector, Mr. L-, though of course often meeting with great discouragement, had the happiness of finding, as years passed on, that his labours had not been

in vain; but that in many instances they had, by the blessing of God, been productive of the best effects on the minds and conduct of his young parishioners. But it is of Charles R only that I am now about to speak, as his case, though in many repects far from being a satisfactory one, appears likely to afford warning and instruction to many in his position of life. His father was a carpenter, who, by dint of industry and good management, had always contrived by his own daily labour to support respectably his large family. When Charles was old enough, bis father apprenticed him to a trade, in which he became a good workman, and at the time when my tale begins, he was in a position to gain his own living. He was, as I have said, a constant attendant at the Sunday School, and appeared to profit by the instruction given, and to be grateful for the kindness of those who devoted themselves to this labour of love. He thus became well known to the Rector, who liked his attentive and respectful demeanour, and often entered into conversation with him. On one of these occasions, Charles, after some hesitation, said,

"I hope, sir, you will not be offended at the liberty I take, if I make bold to ask you a great favour."

"I shall certainly not be offended, my lad," said Mr. L—, "what is it ?"

"That you would be so kind as to lend me a sovereign, sir, I will be sure to repay it in the course of a month, or so; but I am greatly in want of some very expensive tools to get on with my work, and I have not any money to buy them with."

The Rector hesitated, he had a great objection to lending