me to insist on her seeking a reconciliation with those whom she had offended, common sense dictated such a satisfaction, and common justice required it; but the church (to which I then belonged) had demanded no such hard service to put its votaries out of humour with themselves was no part of its policy. In the case in question I had acted as a faithful son of the church, I had regarded its interests; and the question was suggested to my mind, Had I or had I not applied a remedy which would have the smallest efficacy in humbling a haughty spirit? Is then the policy of my church calculated merely to promote the pleasure and present comfort of its votaries, and to quiet and soothe the conscience, or to remedy the real evil of our fallen nature?

I endeavoured to repress and banish these thoughts, which appeared to me almost blasphemous. I crossed myself, and looking up to the image of the virgin, repeated the angel's salutation, Hail, thou that art highly favoured, the Lord is with thee; blessed art thou among women: to which I added, in Latin, “Hail, Mary, full of grace, the Lord is

with thee; blessed art thou amongst women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen."

I had scarcely concluded this prayer, when a soft footfall sounded along the aisle, and turning round, I saw a small figure just entering through the narrow side door of the church. It was Aimée; she was dressed in white, and the air from without agitated her flaxen ringlets and snowy drapery as she advanced towards me, giving almost an ethereal lightness to her appearance. At one moment, as she passed under each archway, a deep shade was cast on her figure, and again a golden gloom was shed upon it, as she traversed those portions of the pavement on which the rays of the sun descended through the richly decorated windows above. The purity and beauty of this infant figure, together with the innocent expression of her gentle eye, as she ascended the steps of the little chapel at the door of which I was standing, and looked up to me half timidly, yet as

it were in the noble consciousness of having nothing to conceal, suggested to my mind the idea of some blessed spirit just restored to its glorified body, and ascending from the grave to mount to that place of happiness which is prepared for the redeemed. The ideal resemblance was presently heightened in my imagination by the beautiful smile which illuminated every feature, and sparkled in her eye, as I extended my hand to her, and said

called the beloved on earth, may she be truly the beloved in heaven!" I then took my usual place, and invited her to confession, by asking her to account to me for the scene of the past night. This question led to many others, and in the end I obtained from the lovely child the following narrative of her short but till then comparatively perfect course, for indeed the words of the wise man could never have been more justly applied than to this blameless infant: He being made perfect in a short time, fulfilled for a long time, for his soul pleased the Lord; therefore hasted he to take him away from among the wicked. Wisdom, 14.

iv. 13,

I was born in England, my father, said the sweet child; I remember well my native place, it was a white house, and there were woods near it, and a garden full of flowers; the house stood on the side of a hill, and from the windows we saw flocks feeding in green fields, and blue hills at a distance, and villages and groves of trees, and the woods were so near to us, that when the windows were open in the summer, we heard the wind

rustling among the trees, and blackbirds and linnets singing in the branches, and waters rushing, and bees humming. My father used to make me hearken to these sounds, and now I never hear sounds like these without thinking of my home. My parents were alive then, my father dear, continued the little girl, and my mother, my kind mother, I remember her dressing room, and her guitar, and her cabinet. And I had a brother too, he was a year older than myself, he had golden hair, and soft bright eyes; and I had a very little sister too, father, when she was asleep she looked like an angel; but she died first, and then, sir, and the poor little girl burst into tears, then grief came; my little sister died, and my brother died-it was a fever; and I was taken away and was never sent home again; and my parents are dead too, and I am here. I was brought to this place I know not wherefore, and I have no home in England to return to, and the child wiped away a few tears, and then looked up again, as if awaiting my farther questions.

And are you happy here, Aimée? I asked.