ful fate by an English officer, and brought to our Queen. The accounts given of this child were very interesting, and make us the more grieve over the degraded state of her countrymen, when we see their capacity for civilization and refinement. Her manners were most engaging, and she showed great and wonderful intelligence and cleverness. Soon she could speak English perfectly, and was acquiring a good knowledge of French. The Queen wished to have her portrait, and the little black child quite won the heart of the artist by her conversation and winning ways. Only she was sensitive about her complexion, and living amongst white people, she did not like to think of herself as black, and coaxed and implored the artist not to paint her black. This interesting child could not stay in England, however, and perhaps it was better that it was so, for as she grew up the feeling of being so painfully different from everyone around her, might have made her miserable. But her health began to fail in our climate, and it was evident she could not live here, so she was sent to our African colony, Sierra Leone, where her education might still be attended to, and due instruction given in our holy religion. Sierra Leone, which is called the grave of the English, but which was expected to recruit her failing strength, as native air so often does.

(To be continued.)

179

Poetry.

ASCENSION-DAY.

WE lift our eyes to-day
Oft to the bright blue sky;
Yet our thoughts do not stay

Where the blue vault on high

Rises so fair. and calm, and the soft clouds pass by

But oft we think to-day

How Christ ascended high,

No more on earth to stay;
And how with many a sigh

To see their Lord depart, His faithful ones stood by.

Yet left He not His own

To pine in grief and fear, To feel themselves alone, And earth a desert drear;

All in their robes of white, His messengers were

near.

Their Lord should come again,
Even as He passed away;
And through all toil and pain

His love should be their stay,

Till the dark night should pass and bring that glorious day.

Oh, sweet the words of cheer

That brought a hope so bright!

The Comforter was near,

Though He had passed from sight,

And He would yet return, and make all darkness

light.

To heaven we lift our eyes-
And oh! that we may learn
Thither in heart to rise,

Still for our Lord to yearn;

With Him in heart to dwell, and wait for His

ONE day, when a party were seeing the castle, Fanny heard herself called by her aunt, and coming timidly into the hall, was delighted to find there her friends, Mr. and Mrs. Hayward. She coloured deeply, and curtsied as girls do who meet their own clergyman far away from home; but she could hardly speak to answer their inquiries whether she was growing stronger, and seemed quite different from the girl she used to be in school, always shy, but with an earnest confiding feeling towards them, that seemed to overpower it and lead her to grow warm and speak her heart.

They were on a visit to some relations who

VOL. XII.

G

JUNE, 1853.

had brought them to see Albury, and as Mrs. Hayward was not very strong, she said, when she had seen the best pictures, that she would sit down and rest while the others went through the remaining rooms and the gardens, and she asked Fanny to stay with her.

This was Fanny's real happiness. Mrs. Hayward talked to her about her mother and sisters, and all the home and school news, till her shyness began to wear off, and she felt as if it was indeed herself and Mrs. Hayward, although it was a strange place; she made longer and more smiling replies, and at last ventured a few questions and remarks of her own.

When all about home had been exhausted, Mrs. Hayward began to speak of the place, and its beauty, and she soon saw how much pleasure and interest Fanny had in what she saw there. By degrees she led her on to tell which were her favourites among the pictures, and Fanny showed her that first favourite of hers, St. Margaret. Mrs. Hayward admired it greatly, and in time succeeded in drawing from her a few hints of her reasons for liking it.

Near it hung another print of a female figure, seen as far as the knees, standing a little sideways, the uplifted head and eyes not looking out of the picture, but into a bright place in the sky, whence beams of light shone down on her, while her countenance was as if she was full of some most precious hope and joy. It was such a look as those wear who have just received something that gives them exceeding gladness, and after

St. Catherine, by Raffaelle, in the National Gallery.