wooded with trees, and on the other bare precipitous cliffs of what appeared to be limestone. Hundreds of men were at work on the sides of these cliffs, which presented a remarkable aspect as we gazed at them from the steamer on the river below. I have just read in the papers that a young lady looking over one of those cliffs, fell over, and was dashed to death!

As we proceed onward, we observe on either side of the river stupendous pillars erected for a suspension bridge. And now beautiful buildings are seen crowning the heights above, one above another, higher and higher-first rate houses inhabited by persons of property from Bristol and other places.

Soon we arrive at the pier, and on landing are driven away into the old city in a cab or omnibus. I chose the Temperance Hotel, for there I expected to meet with the apostle of peace-Elihu Burritt-and I was not disappointed. On entering the commercial

room, I found two gentlemen, one taking tea, the other reading a newspaper. The former, I was certain, could not be he there was too much of the florid red and white English looking countenance for an American-he was a commercial traveller. The other, on turning, removed all doubt. There was the high intelligent forehead, and the small piercing eye-the long visage and sunburnt sallow countenance which pointed him out to be the man. Presently the waiter entered, and addressing him, "Mr. Burritt-a lady and gentleman," in walked a Quaker lady and gentleman, who presented their cards to him. He seemed familiar with the name, and they must have been persons of some consideration in that respectable body their appearance, language, and manners, being superior.

Mr. B. placed chairs for them, and seated himself between them. "I hope," said the lady, "Elihu Burritt, we are not intruding upon thee, but thou seest we were visiting Bristol, and having read thy 'olive leaves,' we felt a little anxious to see thee, and should be pleased if thou couldst visit our parts." After further conversation they departed; and I, having taken tea, walked out to explore the old city, which I found no easy task; for it is one of the most awkward places I ever visited-land and water, ships and houses, dirt and splendour, are to be found in all directions.

I retired to rest early, for I had had a long and weary day; and I rose early next morning, but when I entered the parlour below, I found the "learned blacksmith" at his work already, and I knew better than to disturb him. So he wrote away till the waiter announced breakfast, when we sat down together; and now I had an opportunity for conversation with this extraordinary man. And yet upon the whole he was rather reserved, and no wonderit was quite natural to a stranger in a strange land.

He was soon at his pen and papers again. Now and then leaving off and putting himself into strange postures as if pumping for thoughts, and then suddenly snatching up his pen, he at it again; and so I found him doing during the greater part of the morning whenever I entered the room.

I may sometime tell my young friends something of the history of Elihu Burritt, and then they will not wonder that I took so much notice of him.

After breakfast I walked round the streets and docks, and then went up to the Baptist College, where a young friend—a student, and the son of a respected neighbour of mine, took me through the library and museum, in which are many things worthy of being seen and remembered ancient copies of the Holy Scriptures missionary curiosities-natural productions and the autographs of many eminent men, Washington, and Cromwell, and others. But the gem of the museum is a miniature portrait of the great Oliver. And no one can look at that, without being convinced that true greatness is stamped there. I was told that a Russian Empress offered a large sum for this valuable picture of England's greatest hero-but it is not to be sold.

Accompanied by another student, who led me to the heights above the town, I had a view of the city, its buildings, and docks, and shipping, but it was not so good as it might have been, for the day was unfavourable.

We returned, and after dining with the young gentlemen at the college, I took another circuit round the city, and then started by omnibus for the station, where I took my place for Cheltenham.

It was a dark and cloudy day, and I regretted that I had not a favourable opportunity of seeing this interesting part of Gloucestershire to advantage.

At Cheltenham I again put up at the Temperance Hotel-but I found it one of inferior pretensions.

However, I accommodated myself to my circumstances took coffee, and then sat and heard some curious tales which the old landlord told of his voyages and wanderings when a younger man.

Next morning I rose early, and having heard much of this splendid town, I proceeded to visit all its public streets and promenades; and really Cheltenham is a delightful place, occupying a vast extent of ground, it is at once healthy and beautiful.

But I now set my face homeward in good earnest. I had been away a full week, and visited many places, and seen many new sights, but after all they were not my home. Among them I was only as a passing stranger. I knew there was a spot were warm hearts would greet my return, and towards it my heart and face turned, as it always does when I leave it for a season to visit other places.

Arrived at the railway station, we were soon in motion, winding our way along the beautiful valley, with the Malvern Hills to our left, spotted over with the white mansions of those who are seeking health in that bracing region. We were soon at the foot of the "Lickey," (that is the way to spell it I am told) when another engine was attached, and we were pulled up this high hill. Had we by any accident made a slip, we must have gone at a tremendous rate to the bottom; and where, or how, we could have stopped I know not. However we got safe up.

Parting with one of our engines we went at a very great rate down to Birmingham, and why our engineer drove us at such a reckless rate I know not, for when we got there, we were kept on the top of the embankment half a mile from the station, sitting in the carriages, for three quarters of an hour, before we were moved up to the landing place. But such was their railroad regulation and we had no redress.

I had only just time to secure a place in the first train for Rugby, but once started we were soon there, and in another hour safe at home-at Leicester, of which I say, as one said of his country

"Leicester, with all thy faults I love thee still."

HOP-GROUND SCENES.

PERHAPS a description of such scenes as may often be witnessed in every Kentish hop-ground may be interesting. I am young, and this is my first attempt at writing for the press, and so I hope I shall have a little indulgence.

Hops do not require planting more than once in about twenty years, but they require trimming, poleing, and tying, and then, after the sound of "harvest home" has been echoed and re-echoed in almost every British village-then, when the hops begin to overrun the poles, and the flower is full-grown, hop picking begins.

As we walk along the road by the side of the grounds, we see the hop-flowers waving in the wind, having overtopped their eighteen feet poles, and the strains of many merry youthful voices are wafted to us on the breeze, while our sense of smell is delighted with the fragrant and invigorating perfume.

We enter the grounds, and soon we see what is called a company of bins. There stands a mother picking in good earnest, thinking, no doubt, of the money she will be enabled to earn, and how it will assist her in bringing her little family through the winter. On the other side of the bin stands a boy about ten, but very much inclined now and then to leave off picking that he may search among the broad green leaves after hopdogs, a very beautiful kind of caterpillar, and as often as he does the parental voice is heard, "Billy, you dont pick nicely this morning," when he begins again for about ten minutes, and then is after hopdogs again. At his feet, sitting on a lump