buildings, its numerous public exhibitions, excite the wonder and amazement of all visitors, and a trip to the metropolis is by strangers regarded as an event of no ordinary interest.

But notwithstanding the great facilities for travelling which are now afforded by railways, there are still multitudes of young people who have not seen this mighty city, and who have very imperfect information about it. Probably very few are now so simple as to suppose that its streets are paved with gold, but on the other hand, many are accustomed to think of it as a dull, gloomy place, where the sun seldom shines, where we breathe smoke all the summer, and swallow fog in the winter, and where, beyond a few routine sights, there is nothing to see or to make life enjoyable.

That this is a great mistake those best know who, like myself, were born "within sight of St. Paul's," and have spent a long life within sound of its bells.

London is crowded with objects of note, a mere catalogue of its curiosities would fill a bulky volume, and if it be true that "he is the true possessor of a thing who enjoys it," then nowhere may an observant man be so enriched as amidst the countless sights of London.

In this belief, and assuming that you, my reader, are a stranger to this great metropolis, anxious not only to visit its more notable exhibitions, but also to see something of its general characteristics, I ask you to accept me as your guide and companion in a few excursions and rambles within sight of its noble cathedral.

And in order to remove a popular fallacy that we have nothing pleasant and beautiful in London scenery, accompany me first in a walk through its green pastures.

There is hardly another capital in Europe where, in its very midst, any one may take a continuous walk of nearly three miles in beautiful parks and gardens, adorned with extensive lakes and sparkling fountains, where, far away from the traffic of the streets, or even the sight of houses, they can stroll beneath shady avenues of trees, or along pathways fringed with beds of blooming flowers.

We can do this in London, only once in our route crossing a leading thoroughfare.

Passing from Charing Cross through Spring Gardens, a paved passage conducts us at once into "The Mall," St. James's Park, a beautiful vista of trees, half a mile in length, so called from the game of "Pale Maille," which was formerly played here.

Immediately on entering you will be struck with the novel spectacle of "Milk Fair," some seven or eight stands where cake and fruit are sold, and at each of which a cow is kept, so that customers may regale themselves with milk warm from the cow," popularly supposed to be a very rare and unattainable luxury in London.

This is a favourite resort of the children, scores of whom may generally be found here, seated on the benches or playing in the Mall.

On our right a broad flight of steps leads to the lofty column erected in memory of the late Duke of York, though very few can now

remember what were the special services which justified this memorial. Passing Carlton Terrace, a range of noble mansions built on the site of Carlton Palace, an unassuming red brick building, standing back in a private garden, claims our attention Marlborough House, the town residence of the Prince and Princess of Wales.

Leaving the Mall, let us pass through one of the iron gates on our left into the enclosure. Formerly this part of the park was kept select, none but persons respectably attired being admitted, but now it is perfectly free, and during the summer months the grass in some of the retired nooks is the chosen sleeping quarters of many who are not respectable, either in appearance or in character.

A beautiful sheet of water occupies the centre part, spanned by a suspension bridge, which may be useful, but has no claim whatever to be regarded as ornamental. Several species of British and Foreign aquatic fowl are to be found here, breeding and rearing their young upon an island at one end of the lake, called "Duck Island."

A tour round the lake will reveal many charming examples of landscape gardening, and on a bright summer day, the water beaming in the sunlight, the fowls disporting on its surface, and pleasure boats filled with holiday folk rowing to and fro, make up a picture pleasant to look upon.

Leaving the enclosure at its western end, we pass the front of Buckingham Palace, the residence of the Queen when in London, separated from the park by a lofty

range of ornamental railings, provided with massive entrance gates.

The art treasures contained in this palace, the splendid decorations of the rooms, and the complete and interesting arrangements connected with the kitchen and servants' apartments, I have not space to describe-they are such as befit the palace of a monarch; and then, behind, are private pleasure grounds of forty acres in extent, including a lake of five acres.

A private drive, called Constitution Hill, skirts the wall of these grounds on one side, and on the other is the Green Park, presenting a wide expanse of undulating grassy land, lying so high as to command an extensive view of the distant Surrey hills.

At the upper extremity of this Park, spanning the entrance to Constitution Hill, is a noble lofty arch, surmounted by a colossal statue of the Duke of Wellington on horseback.

Here we cross the great thoroughfare, "Hyde Park Corner," and passing through a handsome stone screen, containing three pairs of massive iron gates, enter Hyde Park, the largest of our metropolitan parks.

In the season, the open space just inside the gates is the fashionable rendezvous, and from 5 to 7 p.m. is, with the adjacent drives, thronged with carriages and equipages of every kind and description, many of them handsomely appointed, and attended by servants in splendid liveries; "Rotton Row," about a mile and a half in length, being equally crowded with equestrians; whilst the side walks and grassy slopes which command a view of

Crossing the park in a westerly direction, we find near the pathway numerous beds of beautiful flowers, most artistically arranged, so that in summer their hues of colour blend with the variegated foliage of the shrubs and plants around.

And a similar show of flowers extends along the eastern side of the park, rivalling in profusion and loveliness any display that can be offered to the inhabitants of less crowded cities, and flatly contradicting the popular fallacy that flowers cannot be cultivated in London.

Turning aside, along a less frequented path, we come to the cascade, an artificial waterfall, in a shady dell overhung with trees, and near it a crystal spring of water, at one time supposed to possess certain medicinal virtues, and even now largely patronized in the summer months.

Ascending a slight hill, the Serpentine lies before us, an extensive lake of fifty acres.

Here, during the season, several hundreds bathe in the early morning, and some few zealous devotees continue the practice all the year round. I have myself seen them, in the dull grey dawn of midwinter, undress in the keen, bleak wind, and break a large hole in the ice, in order that they might enjoy (?) their matutinal dip.

In severe winters, this forms the grand metropolitan skating and sliding field, the ice being covered with thousands engaged in these

carry on into the night, illuminating the scene with torches, and making a display of fireworks and other pyrotechnics.

Many sad accidents occur, and as the water is very deep, a season seldom passes without the loss of life.

In order to render efficient aid in such cases, the Royal Humane Society have on its northern bank a handsome receiving house, where warm baths are constantly in readiness, with every appliance which skill and kindness can suggest.

Skirting the shore, we pass on our left the site of the great Exhibition of 1851, on which the Crystal Palace, now at Sydenham, was erected. Here is being built the national memorial of the late Prince Consort, which when completed will eclipse in grandeur, size, and magnificence, any monument of modern times.

The Serpentine is spanned by a bridge, on the other side of which lies Kensington Gardens, as pretty a place as any one need wish to see, and as rural in many of its aspects as if it were "in the shires."

Near the western end"High o'er the neighbouring lands, 'Midst greens and sweets, a regal fabric stands;-"

the Palace built by William III., who with his queen died here, as also Queen Anne and George II.

This was the birthplace of her present Majesty, and she was residing here, when very early in the morning, June 20th, 1837, she was awaked out of her sleep, to be informed that she was Queen of these realms.

What is your mission, my brother,
What is your mission below?
What is your mission, my sister,

As journeying onward you go?
Our mission is practising mercy,
Sweet charity, patience, and love,
And following the footsteps of Jesus,
That lead to the mansions above.
O say, shall we meet, &c.

O yes! you will meet us, my brother; God helping our weakness and sin, Bearing the cross, we, my sister,

The crown will endeavour to win. We'll walk through the vale and the shadow,

Through sufferings and trials and care, And when you get safely to glory, You'll meet, yes, you'll meet us all there! O sav. shall we meet, &c.