she here? They had found the door fast locked, entrancing joy! the little one is found in an ob-
and while one ran for the sexton, the distressed scure pew, out of which she had received "her
parents were comforted by the nurse now re-flowers;" she is discovered sitting on a hassock,
membering that the child had all the morning in a profound and happy sleep, quite warm and
been talking of a certain bunch of Christmas full of life; her cheek reclining on the cushioned
holly and ivy which an old peasant had pre- seat above, a smile on her parted lips, and a
sented her with in the church the previous day, withered bunch of holly and ivy clasped in her
and which she called her flowers, and which she tiny hand. When the first burst of weeping joy
had dropped in the bustle of the breaking up of was over-for here "joy was too modest to show
the congregation.
itself without a badge of bitterness"-they did
not wake the child; but all kneeling down, they
half encircled the sleeping innocent, the mother
being next her, and the old sexton leaning over
from the adjoining pew, with the large drops
running down his cheek, and the light from his
lantern falling on the face of the sleeper. Then
the father, in a low and subdued voice, and not
without tears, and beating hearts-which out of
happy depths could only sob amen-prayed to
him who," as at this time, came to visit us in
great humility," and thanked him that the lost
was found; and that as he had now saved her
from perishing by snow, and night, and hunger,
and cold, so he would keep her through greater
life-perils to come, and finally, make her his own
in glory.

As they waited the arrival of the keys, there came a sudden shower, a rush of snow-flakes around the church, beating at the door and windows, as if for admittance, and dipping and driving round the tower, and swooping at the old belfry, as if half in anger, and lodging in the deep ivy, and spreading white table cloths on the flat tomb-stones, and sporting and curvetting round the ancient yews, like bright matulenhood making mirth of age, and gradually filling up and effacing all foot-prints on the church path, so that an hour's more delay, and in vain the faithful and true snow-flakes had kept their indented record of the little one's wandering

feet.

Here comes Bruton, the sexton, an ancient survitor, puffing like a grampus; very frosty in As they arose from their knees, the child the fingers, like "Hob the shepherd;" his "old waked up, too; and when she saw them she feet stumbling amidst graves," like Friar John;" smiled, but betrayed no further emotion. Her the keys of the church, like the picture of St. mother then eagerly questioned her why she had Peter, in his right hand; while in his left he left the garden, where she had been playing, and brandishes a lantern, like Guy Faux in the gun-wandered so far alone? But she merely glanced powder vaults, or Diogenes at Corinth in search of an honest man. He had been in the church all the morning "regulating " it-had left the door open when he went to his dinner, but on seeing the first short snow shower begin to fall, had sent his boy to lock it.

Here is hope enlarging almost to certainty. The child is in the church, no doubt, and eagerly they press into the porch, as the old man casts the heavy door back on its grating hinges. They hurry up the aisle, they call the lost one, they run here and there, they pause and listen, but "there was neither voice, nor sound, nor any that regarded," save the dull rustling of the snow-flakes at the window, tapping and crowding up the panes, and looking in to see the Enfant Trouvée, but alas! it was not so. No child was to be found-not in the aisle, nor chancel, nor vestry, nor desk, nor among the seats is she to be seen. And where is she? Is this hope to be crushed out too, oh, God! and the fierce night gathering wild and black, and the snow flakes falling by thousands, and a sudden raging storm gust, shaking the old church, and whistling through its gray tower, and sobbing and moaning amidst the blackened rafters and girders which span its roof.

She

down at what her hand contained, and said, "I came to get my flowers." It was a strange sight how, amidst all that weeping, rejoicing, happy, excited party, the child alone was calm, and grave, and unperturbed. She could give no account of why she had done this thing. seemed not to understand the agony her absence had produced; nor did her mind at all go into the consequences of her flight. She appeared to have but, the one simple idea, and the one simple, grave, and childlike answer to a hundred questions-"I came to get my flowers."

And now the storm-gust had drifted off to the southward; and, careering in her silver car, the white winter moon rode brightly up the deep purple dome of sky; a hundred light clouds fly over her face, but in a moment they are gone, and she pursues her course with unimpaired brilliancy.

The party leave the church, and their feet are crunching in the soft snow, as they retrack their homeward path. The child is in her father's bosom, looking up at the flying moon with curious eye, her hand still clutching the bunch of holly and ivy. And on every branch of ferny yew, or fan-like fir, or drooping, denuded larch, or red-leaved beech, or rugged thorn, or expanded elm, or regal oak, or queenly ash; on the smooth ice-plate of the cattle-pond; on the tall, black wheel of the old mill amidst a thousand congelations, and crowning the ancient paralytic poplar with a white coronet and bright fringes on its lank arms till it looked quite gay and bymeneal; and on the top of all the meadow ditches, and on the broad flags of the stile, and on the piers of the gate, and on every shrub in Hark! a shout from a distant corner, and oh! the lawn, lay the bright SNOW-FLAKES in myri

Oh, what a world of anguish, compressed into those few minutes of torturing suspense; and oh, what a volume of intense prayer went up from suffering hearts to the Father of Mercies in that house where prayer was wont to be made, and His presence, who answers in the day of distress promised; and as the daylight dies away, the old sexton lights his lantern.

ads, reposing softly in the frosty moonlight, to to listen to her answer, still calm, and earnest, watch the return of the happy family, with the and grave, to the oft-repeated inquiry-"I came child nestled warmly in her father's bosom, and to get my flowers."

HIRAM POWERS.

a fillet of shells and pearls, the usual Indian coiffure; whilst her hair, which falls down beA Correspondent of the Athenæum writing hind in braids, is caught up by a porcupine from Florence, gives us some notes on the fastening. In the figure as well as in the face studio of Mr. Hiram Powers.-Perhaps it is the true Indian character is preserved; it is not generally known that, unlike all his lithe and agile. "She can run you, sir," said brethren in the profession, he never models Mr. Powers," and that right swiftly. Penin clay, which he says shrinks or swells at seroso,'" pointing to another statue in the times: instead of which, he at once prepares course of execution, "could not." A half his conceptions in plaster. The advantages figue of 'Proserpine'is, I think, one of the are, that he gives fixity and permanency to most charming specimens of ideal beauty I his idea, and can take to pieces the individual ever saw. The expression of the face is only parts for more accurate study and examination. too lovable; and looking on it, I can readily The great difficulty to be surmounted was the understand the possibility of conceiving a impossibility of getting a highly finished and passion for statuary. She has a wreath of smooth surface with the instruments already corn in bloom around her head; and around known to the profession. He has, therefore, her waist is an acanthus wreath, emblematic invented a machine for making open files, and of Pluto and the infernal regions, whence she has taken out a patent for it in America. is rising to spend six months on earth. It is The open file, which he showed me, is appli- remarkable that for this piece of sculpture Mr. cable also to copper and lead, and by means Powers had no model;" and when I have of this he manages to give to his cast the most one," said he, "I never detain it more than polished surface. Whilst no one in modern twenty minutes,-observe it, and take hints; times has adopted this mode of working, John to keep it longer confuses me. I fear to be a of Bologna was the only one in the past who copyist." This statue is a commission for Mr. ever made plaster a substitute for clay, and King, whose bust, close by, is doubtless like that only in a very rough manner. Mr. Pow- him, and is well executed. Several repetitions ers, on the contrary, and by means of his of the Greek Slave' and of " Proserpine," as open file, renders his cast as perfect as it can yet unfinished, were placed about the studio be rendered. The first work which he show-which was surrounded by casts of all the great ed me, still in an unfinished state, is " America," American statesmen. One of the most beautia colossal statue. She is represented by a ful works that Mr. Powers has now in hand is female figure, the expression of whose face is beautiful and dignified. Thirteen stars form the coronet on her brow. Her right hand rests on the fasces, which are covered with laurels, indicative of the triumph which always waits upon union. The left hand points to Heaven, expressive of dependance on it, or as an American gentleman present said, of a desire to follow the will of Providence in any further annexations she may be called upon to make. The left foot is to be trampling on chains, but the Negroes who wore them in "the land of freedom are not, I fear, to be represented. The drapery, which hangs easily and gracefully on the figure, is supported by a band over the left shoulder. This statue has The face is raised to Heaven, her— not been ordered. The same may be said of his "California," on which he is slowly at work, and which promises to realize the conception of the sculptor. It is altogether of a different character from the last. "California" is represented by an Indian woman, and her face bespeaks all the cunning of her race.Sly and cat-like, she is tempting the colonist on by her own personal charms, and by a quantity of quartz at her feet, to which she impossible to be carried out in sculpture. points with a divining-rod in her left hand. Whilst, therefore, the train is permitted to Her right hand, grasping thorns, she conceals fall even to the ground, it is then gathered up behind her back, as if unwilling to let the unwary gold-searcher know the sufferings which await him. Round her head she wears

his "Penseroso," on which he seems to labor con amore. The subject is taken from Milton, whose idea he has endeavored, and successfully to embody. There is a silent dignity in the expression, which becomes the

Goddess sage and holy, ......Divinest Melancholy;—

whilst there is a concealed grief, which well
describes the-

Pensive muse, devout and pure,
Sober, steadfast, and demure.

Looks commercing with the skies.

With the drapery he had some difficulties to encounter, as Milton represents her

All in a robe of darkest grain,
Flowing with majestic train,-

and held in front by one hand. The robe is fastened round the waist, whilst over the upper part of the body is thrown a mantle