them and the records of others; made maps and globes, and thus learnt many valuable lessons, and increased his knowledge of that grand enterprize for which providence was preparing him, and he felt bound to fulfil.

Columbus was joined in marriage with the orphan daughter of an Italian navigator, the name of Palestrello. He at once went to reside with the mother of his wife, who presented him with the journals and sea-charts of her deceased husband. This present was very acceptable to the enterprizing Columbus. Reading and meditating, he became more intimately acquainted with the character and extent of the Portuguese discoveries, until his soul burned with intense fervour for the accomplishment of his grand project. The day had not yet arrived; he had to wait long and tedious years before he could set out on his grand voyage in search of a new world. This great idea absorbed all the interests of his mighty soul, and he intensely longed to have it realized.

We find him laying his plans before the Senate of Genoa, and the Court of Portugal, but all in vain. They refused to hear him. He next sent his brother to lay his schemes before Henry the VII. of England; he also discarded them, refusing his aid. There appears now but one course open to him. The united kingdoms of Arragon and Castile are governed by Ferdinand and Isabella-he determines himself to seek a hearing and solicit their aid.

By the gate of a Franciscan Convent of La Rabida, just above Palos in Andalusia, in the brown autumn of 1486, stands a stranger, a foreigner, a sailor, asking for bread and water for a little boy whom he is leading by the hand. He is a noble looking man, of dignified demeanour, yet poorly dressed; way worn and care worn he looks all dusty and threadbare, his boy is hungry and footsore. While the boy is refreshing his body with food and rest, the prior of the convent approaches and enters into conversation with the father. The prior propounds a number of questions, but the stranger is a man of one subject, and has but little to say on

anything else. All his talk is about a land beyond the sea. The prioris struck with the strangeness and fervour of this foreign wayfarer, and thinking there is something wonderful within the fleshy covering of this foreigner, he invites him to become his guest, and feeling more deeply interested in the story of the stranger, he sends for a physician, an intimate friend, the most intellectual man in Palos to meet him. After supper, the prior and the physician drew out the stranger into prolonged conversation on his cherished project. As he proceeds with his subject they are both convinced that "there is some holy hidden fire within him," and it must find a means of revealing itself.

This foreign wayfarer was Christopher Columbus, pursuing his way to Ferdinand and Isabella to lay before them the plans for his voyage of discovery. The prior engages to secure for him an introduction at Court, and offers to take care of his little boy until his return home from the interview with the sovereigns. Ferdinand was unfriendly to his plan: while in the Court there was serious dissension, and he had to wait about Court, living how he could for long weary months. At length his cause is taken up by the grand Cardinal of Spain, who secured him a hearing with the Sovereign. A summons is issued for a council of learned men to assemble to judge of his plan. They meet in the old ball of the Dominican Convent in Salamanca, fitted up for the purpose. Columbus appears before them, lays open his grand plan, and the reason why he entertains it. The Council continues to meet and discuss the plan for four long and tedious years, and then ultimately refuse to entertain it, pronouncing it to be opposed to Science and Scripture. Columbus departs from the Court of Castile to seek patronage elsewhere. He tries some of the Spanish Grandees, and receives letters that somewhat favor his plan from the Kings of England and France. Besides Portugal he had already tried Genoa and perhaps Venice. Strange, is it not, that he had to go about from country to country, for so many years, offering to Princes the discovery of a world. But such was

the case. He now returns to La Rabida to call for his son. Arriving at the Convent, he related the sad tale of his failure to the kind Prior, who is moved even to tears. The generous Prior is convinced that the stranger's idea is a sublime and glorious reality. So he writes, and even goes himself, and with great zeal entreats the Queen to regard Columbus's suit. She orders Columbus to appear before her. On returning to Court he finds the Sovereigns engaged in the siege of Granada. When the boom of war had ceased and victory was proclaimed, the prophet of the new world obtains an audience with the Sovereigns, whose sanction and concurrence he now obtained. He appears now on the very eve of realizing his long cherished scheme. But no, this poor Italian who had "so long to beat his wings against the cold bars of general unbelief" had now to do battle with the cupidity of his royal patrons. He felt that he was great and princely in his way, and that honour was due to him, as much perhaps, as to those who sat on thrones and wore royal crowns. Therefore he could only negotiate on terms in which the transcendent dignity of his enterprize would be recognized. So he makes a demand, that if he succeeded in his great aim, he should be titled the High Admiral and Viceroy of all the seas and lands he should explore, and that there should be given to him one-tenth part of the profits; or one-eighth of the profits if he should bear one eighth of the expense. His claims are refused, but he remains firm and unmoved-he leaves the presence of the Sovereigns with the determination of quitting Spain for France. But his cause is once more pleaded before the Queen, and being told the benefits that would accrue to the Church, she is moved in favour of the enterprize and enters into it with enthusiasm, and proffers to pledge her jewels to meet the expenses of the expedition.

Columbus is now free, free to act, free to démonstrate to the world his great idea; every outward obstruction now disappears and dissolves like clouds before the light of the morning. How deep and overwhelming must be his

feelings now! Thoughts rise and swell in his mighty soul. too bright and glorious to be put in the mould of earth's dialect.

Columbus now fits out the ships, of which he had been appointed by Isabella to take the command, at that very Palos near which the convent of La Rabida was, where some time before he stood asking bread for his hungry boy. (To be continued.)

HOW I ENVIED HENRIETTA.

BY SOPHIE MAY.

WHEN I was a little girl,-some fifty years ago, we lived in the country where stone walls were as plentiful as blackberries, and where the sun kissed the tops of high mountains every morning before he showed his face to us.

Our house was painted red "to blush for its own ugliness;" and right across the road was a great weather stained barn. So when we had company, and sat in the front parlour we could not look out of the windows without a full view of the horses and cows, sheep and poultry, sunning themselves in the barn-yard.

From the east window we saw a field black with stumps. Father was "clearing it up" for a pasture, Mother said he found it hard work to "make both ends meet; " though I did not know what that meant, or why the ends would not do just as well apart. But for some reason I had taken a great dislike to a farmer's life. Perhaps it was because Henrietta Palmer lived in a white house with green blinds, and her father was a lawyer.

O so "genteel" as Henrietta was, with her pale face and taper fingers! It was of no use for me to aspire to be like her, while my father wore a striped frock and wasn't a 66 squire." I had to wash dishes, till my hands were as red

as a prince's feather; but Mrs. Palmer kept a girl, named Matilda, in the kitchen, who did all the work, and Henrietta could spend her time curling dandelion stems if she chose.

I didn't dare say 'much about it, for mother wouldn't listen to idle complaints, and was always ready with the meek words of St. Paul: "For I have learned in whatsoever state I am, there with to be content."

But I am not content with my state or town, or anything else," thought I, as I sat knitting my stint, "why couldn't my pa have been a lawyer, and then at any rate he wouldn't have kept cows."

I had to go after those cows down to the pasture. Such unladylike business, when Henrietta Palmer was actually afraid of a cow, and her mother bought milk by the quart!

And in the winter when Miss Henrietta wore a lovely "pelisse" I had to burden my shoulders with an old check cloak, fastened at the throat by a clumsy brass clasp.

Dear! Dear! When I covered myself up in it one December morning and went to school I was wretched enough; but before noon my silly heart danced for joy, because Henrietta had invited me to go home with her and spend the night. It was not every little girl who had such an honour, and I felt as proud as if I had received a gold medal. Mother said I might go, but I must wear my homemade woollen gown and carry my knitting-work; I musn't be so foolish as to ask for my Sunday clothes and my red flannel shoes.

When I went home with Henrietta, a little ashamed of my coarse frock, we found Mrs. Palmer sitting by the parlour fire very grandly dressed, I thought. She greeted me kindly, without even looking at my clothes; but her eyes were quite red, as if she had been weeping. I glanced at the gay rings on her fingers and at the beautiful furniture of the room, and wondered what the rich Mrs. Palmer could have to trouble her!

Then I suddenly remembered that I had heard some one say: