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was one day showing his treasures to a friend, who suddenly turned to him and declared, Well, you have not in your collection a prettier flower than I saw this morning at Wapping." "Indeed! and pray what was this curiosity like ?" 66 Why, the plant was elegant, and the flower hung like tassels from the pendent branches; their colour, the richest crimson; in the centre, a fold of deep purple," and so on went the friend in its praise. Particular directions being demanded and given, Mr. Lee hastened to Wapping, where he at once saw that the plant was new in this part of the world. He gazed and admired. Entering the house, he said, "My good woman, this is a nice plant; I should like to buy it." "I could not sell it for any money," said she; "for it was brought me from the West Indies by my husband, who has now left me again; and I must keep it for his sake." "But I must have it." "No, sir! you cannot." "Here," emptying his pocket, "here are gold, silver, copper" (his stock was something more than eight guineas). "Wella-day! but this is a power of money, sure and sure.' "It is yours, and the plant is mine; and, my good woman, you shall have one of the first young ones I rear, to keep for your husband's sake." A coach was called, in which was safely deposited the florist and his seemingly dear purchase. His first work was to pull off and utterly destroy every blossom and blossom-bud: it was divided into cuttings, which were forced in barkbeds, and, hotbeds; were re-divided and sub-divided. Every effort was used to multiply the plant. By the commencement of the next flowering season Mr. Lee was

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the delighted possessor of 300 fuchsia plants, all giving promise of blossom.. The two which opened first were removed into his show-house. A lady came-"Why, Mr. Lee, where did you get this charming flower ?” "It is a new thing, my lady-pretty, is it not?" Pretty! 'tis lovely. Its price ?" "A guinea; thank your ladyship;" and one of the two plants soon stcod proudly in her ladyship's drawing-room. Here it was the admiration of all visitors, and inquiries were made as to where it was produced. "Oh! 'tis a new thing; I saw it at Lee's :pretty, is it not ?" Pretty! it is beautiful! Its price ?" "A guinea; there was another left." The visitor's horses were shortly standing at the gates of Lee's nursery. The second

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guinea was paid, and the second chosen fuchsia adorned the drawing-room of her second ladyship. A third and a fourth flowering plant was placed where the first and second had stood. The scene was repeated, as new comers saw and were attracted by the beauty of the plant. New chariots flew to the gates of Lee's garden. Two fuchsias-young, graceful, and bursting into healthy flower-were constantly seen on the same spot in his repository. True to his word, he did not neglect to gladden the heart of the faithful sailor's wife with the promised gift; but, ere the flower-season closed, 300 golden guineas were in his purse, the produce of the single shrub of the sailor's wife of Wapping; and the reward of the taste, decision, skill, and perseverance of Mr. Lee.

HAVE you ever been to Wales? I have, and never before did I see such a place for mountains mountains here, mountains there, mountains everywhere. I went up to the very top of two of the highest of them; the one was called Snowdon, and the other Cader Idris. It has been said that no one should climb up a high hill without coming down again wiser and better. Whether I came down any better, or wiser, it would be hard to say.

In one part of Wales that I was in, when I

spoke to the people they could not understand me, for they knew nothing but Welsh; and when they spoke to me, I could not understand them.

My uncle, who was with me in Wales, had been a great traveller, and was very fond of goats. He told me of the Angora goat, whose skin is covered with dazzling snow-white hair; of the Assyrian goat, whose colour resembles that of a fox; of the little goat of Africa, the size of a kid; of the Cape of Good Hope goat, covered with beautiful blue hair; and of the Juda goat of Guinea and Angola, that is no bigger than a hare, "Well, uncle," said I, no doubt all these goats are very beautiful; but give me a Welsh goat after all,"

Soon after uncle and I had talked this way together, we came to a cottage by the side of a hill, and just then a little girl was feeding a kid, or young goat, so we stopped to look at her. 66 "Now, uncle," said I, "you may talk of your foreign goats, but if all of them were here together, hardly would they make a prettier picture than that of a little Welsh girl feeding her little kid."

A tender-hearted child was that little Welsh girl; for she stroked and patted her favourite so gently and so kindly, that we could not help loving her. She was simply dressed, and had a sweet smile on her face. I was very much pleased with her, and so was my uncle; indeed, I told him that I could not tell whether he took the most notice of the little goat, or of the little Welsh girl.

What a difference there is between children who treat poor dumb animals kindly and those

who love to plague and torment them! It is a cowardly, as well as a cruel part to ill-use creatures who cannot defend themselves. There is a blessing for the merciful in God's holy word, but there is no blessing in store for the unkind and cruel.

If the little Welsh girl was fond of her kid, the kid seemed to be quite as fond of her. It was a fearless, loveable little creature; and after it had been fed, it kept rubbing its head against the little Welsh girl, as much as to say, "Now you have fed me, come and let us have a game at play together." To play they went, and the comical attitudes of the little goat, now butting gently with its head, and then rearing itself awkwardly on its hind legs, set me and uncle laughing outright.

We stopped a full half hour by the side of the cottage, and could willingly have remained there half an hour longer. At last we took our leave, and the end of our pleasant adventure was this, that the little Welsh girl kissed her kid, and my uncle gave her a Welsh Bible

LESSONS FROM

THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS.

No. 11.

CHRISTIAN had gone through many fearful dangers since he heard, from the Porter of the Beautiful Palace, the good tidings that his townsman and near neighbour, Faithful, was travelling the same way. But now he came to a little ascent, and looking forward, he saw