clad in gorgeous and embroidered robes; it was not enough that the chief of them should wear on his breast the Urim and Thummim attached to the costly ephod: in addition to all these external and official credentials, it was necessary that they should be clothed with salvation that they should be personally invested with the privileges, enriched with the blessings, and adorned with the graces of the religion they were appointed to administer. And in proportion to the loftier claims, the higher spirituality, the simpler forms, and the more practical requirements of the Christian economy-an economy under which the priest of the temple is lost in the minister of the church, the descendant of Aaron is replaced, by the ambassador of Christ-the necessity of an appropriate order of personal qualifications becomes more obvious and indispensable. Of our own official credentials, independently of any superior rights, to which some are disposed to lay claim, on the ground of a successive and apostolical episcopacy, there can be no question. We are privileged to be the ministers of a national church-a church in its public rights and immunities embodied in the very constitution of our country; and, what is still more important, a church in its essential principles and in its authoritative standards, bearing altogether, as we believe, a higher claim to be regarded as scriptural and apostolical than any other church upon earth. We are, moreover, almost in every instance, trained and disciplined for the duties of our office by a course of literary and appropriate education. Possessed of all these privileges and advantages, is there no danger that in estimating our qualifications for the ministry we should lose sight of the necessity of being "clothed with salvation"-that we should merge the personal in the official? That we may rise to the real demands of our high and holy function; that we may save ourselves as well as those that hear us; that we may not involve ourselves in aggravated and accumulated guilt; that we may not endanger the souls of the people entrusted to our charge; that we may not fatally betray the interests of the church of which we are ministers, we must, in the first instance, be individually interested in the blessings of the salvation which it is our duty and our privilege to proclaim. We must proceed to exhibit, with clearness and distinctness, with energy and force the vital doctrines combined with the practical obligations implied in that salvation. While Christ crucified, in connexion with his sacramental ordinances, must be the life of our ministra tions, holiness unto the Lord must be the robe and the garniture of the life which we pourtray. This, in brief, appears to be the import of the significant prayer that the ministers of the sanctuary may be clothed with salvation; and I would now invite you to join with me in fervent prayer that such may be the spiritual, the doctrinal, the moral array in which those, who in all future time shall be called to exercise the ministry in this new house of prayer, shall be ever clothed; that such may be those robes of celestial light, those garments of purity, holiness, and truth, in which they shall go in and out before the people, among whom they will be appointed to minister. All this, however, must be considered as subservient to an object of paramount and transcendant importance, an object, as identified with the glory of God, worthy of the mighty apparatus provided and brought into action. This is manifestly the benefit, the spiritual and eternal benefit of the people: "Let thy saints rejoice in goodness." It was unquestionably for the welfare of his people that, in obedience to the command of God, and with an eye primarily directed to his glory, Solomon engaged in the vast and gigantic project of erecting the temple at Jerusalem: it was with a view to this that the whole of its rich and gorgeous ceremonial had been instituted, and that a numerous order of priesthood had been established to conduct its various services; and, when the whole of this costly preparation had now been completed, when the last stone of the temple had now been set on, the wise monarch of Israel stood up in the midst of a grateful and exulting people, and, with his hands spread forth before the altar, exclaimed, in language of devout invocation, "Let thy saints rejoice in goodness;" let them see and feel thy goodness as displayed on the vast field of the universe, and as more vividly exhibited to their view within the walls and amidst the services of this sacred edifice. The peculiar mode and character of the public service of Jehovah has been changed; but the grand and paramount object of that service is still the same. It is to display the goodness, the loving-kindness of God towards man, as exhibited in the covenant of redemption, and as unfolded in the ministry of reconciliation. This is the great object of a national church, of a national clergy. This is the alleged, the legitimate design of every new temple that is consecrated to the service of the Most High. It is to afford the people an opportunity of rejoicing in the goodness of the Lord, and of becoming possessed of the inestimable blessings of redeeming love. And, if this transcendent object, with all its subordinate and secondary advantages, were more generally appreciated, if it was underderstood by monarchs, discerned by statesmen, and justly estimated by the great mass of the people, we should assuredly have less difficulty in multiplying the number and in providing for the services of those sacred structures in which, amidst the various trials, difficulties, and temptations of mortality, men might be taught to rejoice in the prospect of "an inheritance incorruptible, undefiled, and that fadeth not away." Thus, in this brief portion of the prayer of Solomon at the dedication of the temple, we have a distinct recognition of the three leading requisites to the maintenance of the public service of God; a temple or a resting-place for his majesty, containing the ark as the receptacle of his revealed will; a priesthood, to conduct its varied and never-ceasing round of duties; and a people to attend their ministrations. All this was indispensable. But it was not the whole of what was necessary. The temple must have had the divine presenee resting in visible manifestation between the cherubim, and ready at all times to respond to the prayers of those who resorted to it for a knowledge of the divine will. The priests must have been clothed with salvation as well as invested with a legitimate commission. The people must not only have entered within the hallowed courts of the temple, but they must also have entered with fervour and energy of affection into the meaning and application of its services. Analogous to these, and requisite in a still higher degree, are the demands of an acceptable and profitable Christian worship. We must have a church, a minister, and a congregation. But the But the church must be the depository of the oracles of God, the open volume of the scriptures; and highly privileged are we, as a reformed Protestant community, that we are in possession of such a church, and such a treasure of scriptural and evangelical truth enshrined in the ark of its authoritative standards. The minister must be faithful to his trust. He must teach the way of salvation as it is clearly revealed in holy scripture. He must not only be an expounder of the great and vital doctrines of the gospel, but in his own person and character be also a pattern of its precepts. He must be "clothed with salva tion." The congregation must not only tread the courts of the Lord's house from sabbath to sabbath, but they must cultivate a spirit of devout reverence while engaged in its hallowed services. They must learn to apply and appropriate to themselves the privileges and duties, the blessings and obligations, the promises and precepts, which are urged upon their hearts and consciences. They must "rejoice in goodness." Such, I trust, will be the blessed results, realized from time to time, until time shall be no more, within this house of prayer, this "resting-place" of the Most High. Necessarily limited as I am on such an occasion to the suggestion of a few pregnant truths rather than a full development of principles, it only remains that I should state that the offerings of those now present will be received in aid of the funds unavoidably expended on this important addition to the number of our parochial churches. The present affords a seasonable and appropriate opportunity for aiding the undertaking to those who may have hitherto been prevented by various causes and considerations from contributing to its accomplishment. Those who give of their substance, with an eye singly directed to the glory of God, will have the satisfaction to reflect that they have cooperated, in some small measure, in adding to the living stones of the great spiritual temple; in swelling the number of those who, having laid aside their earthly house of this tabernacle, shall enter on a building of God, "a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens." The church, at the consecration of which the pre ceding discourse was delivered, is surrounded by a spacious churchyard. The ground was purchased of the trustees of the late Adam Askew, esq., of Redheugh. The first stone of the church was laid July 24th, 1846, by Cuthbert Ellison, esq., of Hebburn Hall, and lord of the manor of Gateshead, with a neat and appropriate address, expressive of his cordial attachment to the church of England, and of his satisfaction in having thus an opportunity of contributing to the spiritual welfare of the inhabitants of the population of the parish of Gateshead, exclusive this populous parish. According to the last census of Gateshead Fell, exceeds 15,000; and the church accommodation, even including the new church, barely amounts to one-fifth of that number. The confidently hoped, however, that at no distant period number of clergy is still more inadequate. It is an endowment will be obtained from the ecclesiastical commissioners, for a district to be attached to one of the existing churches, and that thus the public services, as well as the clerical organization of the parish generally, will be placed on a more satisfactory and efficient footing. The committee of the new church have much pleasure in recording the liberality of the public. Some few of the smaller accounts additions to the various articles of church-forhave not yet been received; and some little niture are yet to be made. It is fully expected, however, that, after the whole has been com pleted, with the exception of a permanent ›enclosure of the churchyard, and the public grants have been received, there will remain but a very trifling, if any, deficiency of funds. The whole amount of the subscriptions, including the value of the dif ferent donations and the abatement in the price of the land, is very little short of £2,000. The church is capable of accommodating 600 persons. JULY. BY MARY ROBERTS. "Night is far off, and hotter hours approach: THOMSON. ing on the under surface of water plants, and having mouths constructed with an especial reference to their mode of life. Numerous plants also, which delight in shade and moisture, thickly matted the margin of that lone stream, edged with flags and rushes, and peopled during spring with innumerable tadpoles; in summer, with the black water-beetle and long-tailed newt. But, when the flowing in of a tributary rill changed the character of that low melancholy stream, its waters emerged to the light of day, open and exTHERE are few attractions during this hot month pansive, and gloriously shone upon by a cloudless to invite the naturalist abroad at mid-day. Birds sun, flowers were seen beside its margin and shelter themselves from the heat; and sheep and mantling on its waters, that were lovely to behold. cattle lie down in shady places: even the watch- Among these, the elegant fringed buckbean, or ful dog stretches himself upon his side, regardless water-lily (menanthes nymphæoides), lifted its of passers-by; or, if an unwonted noise disturbs bright yellow blossoms above the surface; the him, he raises half an eyelid, and, giving a feeble water-trefoil also (M. trifoliata), found in the growl, composes himself again. No song of birds larger bog on Hampstead Heath, with its lovely among the branches breaks the quietness of noon; pyramidal lilac spikes, worthy of a distinguished and scarcely may the scant rill be heard murmur-place in ornamental aquariums for gold and silver ing on its way, for the well-head is nearly dry. All pleasant sounds seem hushed, except the humming of the bee, which still works on, and leaves not a flower unvisited. But at length the drooping grass on walls is seen to wave, and a gentle rustling and shivering of leaves is heard among the highest branches of the aspen tree. A rising breeze succeeds: first one sweet carol, then another, resounds from out the bushes; and sheep begin to graze beneath the quivering play of branches that fling alternate lights and shades on their fleeces and the greensward. An evening walk is then exceeding pleasant, associated with joyous thoughts of youthful days, of gathering wild flowers when all tasks were duly done; in after years, of goings forth amid the beauties and the wonders of creation, to feel the freshness of the breeze, and hear the warbling of innumerable birds answering one the other. And now arises vividly before me one of my own evening walks during a fine July evening, in the wildest part of Surrey. Our way led over a village common, covered with wild thyme, heath, and yellow broome; from whence, turning into a shady lane, with high banks on either side, over which the mingled branches of hazels and dwarf sycamores formed a natural arcade, we passed on to the well-head of a spacious sheet of water, solitary and darkly shaded, and having its own peculiar flora. fish: "For 'mid the garden's sheltering care Nor less worthy of admiration was the golden- And even more beautiful than either the waterlily, trefoil, or loose-strife, was the water-rose or can (nympha alba)—thus named from being found in the fabled haunts of water-nymphs-with its That well-head splashed, with a half gurgling globular white or pinkish blossoms, upheld by and half tinkling sound, from out a mural rock broad, heart-shaped leaves of the softest green. upon a natural pavement of hard stone. Old Anchored by means of long runners, terminating trees, springing from the fissures, grew round, in a bulbous root, and sending up leaf-stalks, the their branches grey with lichens; and, wherever nympha is safely fixed in its river bed; while its a knotted root was seen, there clustered the nar- flower, chalices of silver white, float on the row-leaved adder's-tongue, which affects cold surface of the water. Oxygen gas is copiously meadows and shaded streams, with the opposite evolved in bubbles from the leaves, sparkling like leaved polypody and rough spleenwort; and, diamonds of the purest lustre, and assigned to when the stream had wandered a little further, the purify the atmosphere of whatever slight miasma horned lake-weed (Zannichellia palustris)—thus results from vegetable moisture and decay. The named after the eminent Venetian apothecary and cup-shaped leaves, opening and expanding as the naturalist Zannichellia, who flourished upwards sun advances in the heavens, emulate the sacred of a century since-came trooping round. And lotus of the Nile, and seem to rejoice in his rays; with it grew the broad-leaved pond-weed, of but, when in ponds and streamlets the shadows of which the floating leaves afford an agreeable shade near trees begin to lengthen on the grass, or to fish. Water-flies swarmed among them; those when, grouping on the margin of Alpine lakes, curious insects that swim upon their backs, feed-long shadows from the hills fling a tremulous shade across the water, they either close together and float through the night, or sink gradually beneath the surface to await the rising of the sun. Morning, wherever dawning, has its own peculiar beauty; even in silent streets, gilding the chimney tops and closed windows; or over level fields, parted only by low stone walls; augmenting in its loveliness as natural objects crowd the landscape, whether of woods or corn-fields, running brooks or heathy commons; but most glorious when coming from beneath the scarlet arch of dawn, over dark waters or misty hills. Then troop forth the sunbeams, lighting up all objects and dissolving their mysteriousness; and the natur. alist, who takes an early walk beside some watery place where grows the water-lily, may see first one, then another, emerge from off the surface, till its margin is covered with a beauteous sisterhood of these pure flowers, the haunts and daily homes of numerous water-insects, which delight to nestle among their leaves and flowers; and not to nestle merely, for each corolla yields an abundance of honey-like secretion. Those flowers too, in common with all plants, do not exist for themselves alone their lives are continual benefactions, they are always imparting good. They yield no small enjoyment to the mind, in the symmetry of their floating leaves, the beauty of their can-shaped petals, and the exquisite grouping of both. Lights and shades also are among them, harmonizing with rapidly-succeeding clouds and sunbeams, upon which the eye of the artist rests with peculiar pleasure, suggestive, perchance, of hints that may worthily be embodied on his canvas. After leaving the ample sheet of water, we passed across the common, with its underwood, and herbage, and rugged sides of old quarries open to the sun, and varied with summer flowers and bright ferns. The willow-leaved spiræa (spiræa salicifolia), known to gardeners by the name of spirea frutex, was seen on leaving the shady lane, in a moist hedge, with its trickling rill; and near it sprung drop-wort (S. almaria) on a stony bank-that beacon flower, which designates a calcareous soil. The kidney-vetch, or lady's finger (anthyllis vulneraria), "Sweet creeping o'er the banks in sunny time." looked well in company with the wild red cranesbill and blue Canterbury bell, the yellow vetchling, cradle of the white butterfly, and ox-eye camomile, the hawk-weed, common milk-wort, and hairy rest-harrow (ononis arvensis), sooner found than desired by husbandmen, because the "tough and woody rootes," as wrote old Gerard, "are cumbersome to them, by reason that they do staye the plough, and make the oxen stand, whereupon the name of 'rest-plough' or 'harrow."" Ferns, beautiful in their variety, sprung beside the pathway, and among the brakes; for the villagecommon had formerly been covered with wood; and clumps of trees still attested its ancient designation. The elegant curled fern and rough spleenwort, the white maiden-hair and oak-fern, the common polypody, brake, and female fern, of which the root, when cut obliquely, presents a semblance of the imperial eagle, either grew in company, or sprung singly from the roots of trees. And among them, pre-eminent in its beauty, uprose the Osmund royal, (Osmunda regalis), prince of English ferns, with its doubly-winged leaves of a pleasant transparent green, changing at the top, when its seeds begin to ripen, into clusters of redbrown capsules. This plant exemplifies the wondrous preservation of the vital principle in seeds. Though unknown for many miles round Birmingham, it suddenly appeared upon an archery-mound, some years since, on Mosely-common, which had been artificially raised with earth from a deep pit, in which the seeds had lain, perchance, for ages. The narrow, rocky pathway now wound beside a hop-ground, with its light and graceful foliage. Each plant twining round a pole to the height of fifteen or twenty feet, with pendant flowers, in clusters and light festoons, presenting an aggregate of no ordinary beauty. We heard, in passing, that peculiar sound from among its leafy labyrinths, which Linnæus compared to very distant thunder, caused most probably by the agitation and collision of innumerable leaves and flowers, and long-trailing branches, when shaken by the breeze of evening. Lady birds were seen upon the leaves; those welcome insects, to which hopgrowers are indebted for the destruction of the baneful fly which may be seen, in June and July, perched on the leaves or floating in the air. Who does not love the ladybird, with whom a legend is associated that awakens in the mind all kindly thoughts and fond remembrances! Children, who often thoughtlessly injure defenceless creatures, avoid stepping on this robin among insects. Í have often seen a ladybird taken carefully from off the ground and placed in safety, when the passingby of sheep or cattle in the country might have endangered its existence. The same kind thoughtfulness is obvious amid the stir and din of the great city. Passing lately through a narrow street, I saw several children gathered round one of their companions, looking, apparently with much delight and curiosity, at the scarlet-coated insect, held carefully in the hand. On asking them about the ladybird, and why it seemed so much to interest them, they repeated the couplet, which has been handed down from one generation to another; originating, most probably, in some ancient fable, long since forgotten. "Peace to the ladybirds !" we said, in passing from the hop-ground. Happily their homes are not on fire, nor are their offspring perishing in the flames, for their services are invaluable at this season of the year. And this was true; for we met a company of boys returning from the hop-grounds, where they had been stationed through the day to chase all such birds as feed on insects, lest in seeking for their prey they should disturb the cherished ladybird. Evening began to close while we were observing the beauty of the hops and listening to the warbling of a full chorus of birds. Twilight succeeded, and glow-worm lamps began to kindle in the hedges, associated with much of poetry and fiction, and fabled to light all fairy people through tangled moss, or beneath the spreading branches of the fern, when the shade of over-arching trees produce a darkness deep as midnight. We noticed that insect in places the most dissimilar: at one time among the short thick herbage; at another, glimmering on a bank of moss, lighting the small night insects, and rendering visible many a meek, pale flower. But, when we entered the dark lane, Poetry. FAITH, HOPE, AND CHARITY. BY REV. J. S. BROAD, M.A. (For the Church of England Magazine.) the effect was beautiful. On either side were seen in- "And now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three; but When emerging from the lane, not a breeze came to bid us welcome. The weather was extremely sultry: clouds, charged with electricity, gathered on the horizon, which, enlarging and extending, obscured even stars of the first magnitude; while the state of the atmosphere was peculiarly favourable for all phenomena connected with electricity. Hence it happened that, in passing at a short distance from the dripping and shady recess from which issued the well-head already mentioned, we saw a very curious sight. Gleaming among the trees, suddenly appeared a tremulous light, at one moment stationary, at another moving from side to side, as if a lantern was borne uncertainly by some night wanderer who had been led astray. One of our company holloaed to the fancied bearer of the lantern, but no answer came, except from a solitary echo: he holloaed again, and the same answering voice responded in the glen. Presently the light emerged from its obseurity, dancing blithely on the surface of the lake; and we knew it to be a will-o'-wisp, or jack-a-lantern, as the country people call those wandering meteors, that are fabled to lead astray such unprotected persons as refuse the succour that reason offers. Beautifully shone that light, now hovering over the deep water, and casting the reflection of its brightness where all else was dark; now skimming round the margin with incredible celerity, and again seeming to dance or quiver over some favourite spot, glad in its antic revelry, and delighting the lookers-on. But, suddenly, brilliant corruscations flashed over the gloomy lake; and it seemed as if the wandering meteor was absorbed in their brightness, for we saw it no BRIGHT sister graces! these abide, Faith, self-renouncing, bids us trust Hope, charming hope, our course pursues Faith leads us up the mount of God But greatest, brightest of the three, Love over time and death prevails, St. George's, Newcastle-under-Lyme. * Gen. ix. 13. † Rom. viii. 24. Coloss. iii. 14. |