"At last she reached the high road, and began to ascend the hill. By this time she was very tired, very sleepy, and very hungry, but she remembered Christian had felt sleepy here also; and she resolved, however tired, not to sleep in the arbour, for which, however, she looked in vain, and concluded it had been pulled down; she could not help feeling very glad of it, as with her tired little limbs it certainly would have been very difficult to resist the temptation. She was very much shocked to see how many people were coming down the hill, and that no one but herself was ascending it. At length she saw two tall big men apparently running a race down, and her little heart beat more rapidly, as she thought how very awful the lions must look; for if these were not Timorous and Mistrust themselves, she did not for a moment doubt that they were terrified in the same manner. She had not seen any lions, the day they passed in the carriage, and she had sometimes almost ventured to hope that they no longer existed; but how the poor little thing trembled, when, on reaching the bend of the road, where it swept off to the lodge she had before seen, there appeared, reposing under the shade of two fine beach-trees, two enormous lions. Maria was no great naturalist, or she would have perceived at once they were made of stone; but she never for a moment doubted they were really the lions. She stood gazing and trembling for some time, continually repeating, 'The lions were chained, but he saw not the chains; and then, summoning up all her courage, she ran swiftly between them, passed through the gate, and knocked with all her little might at the door of the lodge.

"It was opened by a tall good-humoured-looking man; and Maria, awe-struck at beholding at length one of the individuals of whom she had thought so much, dropped a deep curtsey 'If you please, sir, are you Watchful?'

"Why, Miss, as to that,' said the man, smiling goodhumouredly, 'I hopes I be; what did you please to want?'

"I want Discretion, if you please, sir,' replied Maria. "I say, Missis,' said the man, looking over his shoulder at his wife, didst ever hear the like of that?-here's a little maiden as says as how she wants discretion.' 'Well, I've seed many a

one as wanted afore, but never one as owned to it.'

"A sharp-featured vinegar-looking woman now appeared, g very unlike any thing Maria expected to see so near the

house Beautiful.

'So you want discretion, Miss, do you?

Well I wonder if there's anything else you want?'

"I thought,' said Maria, trying to feel brave, 'I might perhaps be allowed to sleep either here or at the palace.'

"A private confabulation now took place between the husband and wife, in which it was agreed he should take Maria to the quality at the great house, as may be they would make something of her. Maria felt very proud when she found herself with her hand in that of Mr. Watchful, and actually on the way to the palace. Her guide left her outside while he asked to speak to Mrs. Adams, to whom he said that the little lady's intellects seemed all of a heap together, it was such a queer thing to hear a child like her talk of want of discretion, though no doubt it was all very true.

"Mrs. Adams told him to get a horse ready, that she might send him off to the friends of the little girl, as soon as she had ascertained who they were; and she came and led Maria by the hand into the drawing-room so tenderly, and looked so very kindly, that Maria began to feel quite reassured. She was delighted to see three young ladies in the room, who, of course, were Piety, Prudence, and Charity. Mrs. Adams, as soon as she had given her a large slice of bread and butter and some new milk, said 'Now, my dear, you'll tell us what your name is, and who your papa and mamma are.' 'My name, ma'am, is Maria Walker, but I never had either a papa or mamma,' replied Maria, with the utmost simplicity. And where do you live, dear?' 'At Oldtown, with my grandmama.' 'And where were you going, my love?' 'I did not want to go farther than this house tonight, I always intended to sleep here.' 'And does any one know you were coming here?' 'No, ma'am. No one knew exactly that I meant to come to-day; but our clergyman, Mr. Roberts, strongly advised me to come, and he said I could not set out too soon.' 'And what was your object in coming, Maria?' 'I wished to set an example to all the people in Oldtown,' was the answer, and both Mrs. Adams and her daughters, were quite at a loss what to think of their little visitor.

"Maria, however, had gained so much courage, that she thought she might now venture to ask a few questions, and began with, Do many children come here, ma'am?' 'Yes, sometimes we have children here. We're all very fond of them

when they are good.' 'And have you got any armour for little girls, ma'am?' This was almost too much for the gravity of Mrs. Adams, but she determined not to let her see how very much amused she was, but rather to encourage her in asking any question she pleased, hoping by that means to obtain a clue to the very extraordinary state in which her mind seemed to be. 'Oh no?' she said, 'but why do you want to know?' 'I was afraid you had not,' said Maria; and then looking very serious, 'Please, ma'am, tell me is this house very near the Valley of the Shadow of Death?' 'My poor little child,' said Mrs Adams, drawing her close to her and kissing her, 'that none of us can tell; it may be nearer than we think.' 'But you wont send me there to-night, will you?' and the child half cried as she asked the question; 'you'll let me stay and sleep here?' 'Yes that you shall, dear little wanderer, and I think you must need sleep very much, for you look tired, and your little hand is very hot.' 'I suppose nobody ever comes back here that's been through the Valley,' continued the child, almost as if thinking aloud. This touched a chord in every bosom present that thrilled through them, for their mourning was yet new for one very dear to them, who had been suddenly hurried through that valley of which Maria spoke. 'I've been thinking, ma'am, it would be a terrible thing for a little girl like me to go there alone without any armour; oh! please do let Piety go with me-oh, pray do !' said the child, wondering what she could possibly have said to make them all cry so.

"At this moment the porter arrived to say he was ready, and Mrs. Adams desired him to tell Mrs. Walker her little Maria was safe, but very tired, and she would either take her home in the morning, or would be very happy to see the ladies if they liked to come and fetch her. 'I don't want to go home,' said Maria; I only want to go back as far as the Wicket Gate, that I may begin at the beginning.'

"Oh, now I see it all!' exclaimed she, whom Maria was sure must be Charity; you dear delightful little creature, you've been reading the Pilgrim's Progress till your little head is turned, as I am sure mine would have been, at your age, if I had not had a good mamma to explain it all to me; and as you never had a mamma, how could you know anything about it?'

"A few judicious questions now drew forth from Maria the

whole story of her pilgrimage, and when her aunts arrived before breakfast next morning, they were quite surprised to find her looking so well and happy and rational, as they had been very much frightened by Mr. Watchful's account of what he called her light-mindedness and want of discretion.

"Mrs. Adams begged she might be allowed to stay a few days with them; and before the time came for her departure, the beautiful allegory which had so much perplexed her, was made so very plain, that she thought she must have been extremely stupid, not to have found out the meaning for herself.

"My young readers will, I am sure, be glad to hear that Maria, who has now little girls of her own, has long found the true Wicket Gate, and is anxious to show to others the privilege of being permitted to enter it. There are few in the present day who have not greater advantages than she had; and if any are induced to ask themselves the question, whether, with superior instruction, they are equally in earnest to obtain, in the days of health, Piety for their companion through that dark valley, which sooner or later all must tread, my story will not have been written in vain." L. N.

To such an interesting conclusion it may appear presumptuous to add anything of our own. Yet we cannot close this paper without asking how many of our readers have more than little Maria's opportunities, with much less than her earnestness in the great business of life? Let all, then, who have the means of obtaining information, and especially those who are blessed with kind and intelligent friends and relatives, do their utmost to search out and prove all things-to guard against partial views, and to look well that the various powers and affections of the mind are properly balanced. Let Reason direct and control Imagination, and the mind, ever craving, and ever learning, follow out the advice given with such triumphant success to one of the most marvellous intellects of modern day-" Ask and you will know."

Let parents, too, and teachers take a hint from this little story. Silence is oftener understood to speak consent than ill-informed and uncommunicative persons imagine. To withhold Truth is to endorse Error. To leave a child's mind in doubt is sometimes to

nourish those "ill weeds" which " grow apace" within it. And not only is such a course mischievous in itself, but positively detrimental to the really sound counsel that may overlie it. The rector's advice to little Maria was good and valuable, but the substratum of ignorance spoiled it. And then the sanction of the old ladies built on that, completed the mischief. Work well begun, if it do not end well, will only be rotten from above: but a bad foundation overlaid, nothing can ensure the safety of the superstructure.

THE NOBLEMAN AMONG THIEVES.

WHILST Mr. Jackson, one of the most efficient of our City Missionaries, was perusing the copy of a speech made by Lord Ashley in June last, several thieves, desirous to relinquish their evil practices, entered for his advice; among these were two young men who had already been induced to give up thieving, but who, having once lost their character, were obtaining a bare livelihood by picking up bones, rags, and iron, in the street. They had persevered in this course for some time, and a great change had been effected in their general habits and practices.

"How should you like to emigrate ?" said Mr. Jackson to one of these men.

"I should jump at it," was the reply.

Mr. Jackson informed them of the contents of Lord Ashley's speech: that he expected his lordship to perambulate his district with him, and he would consult him on the subject of emigration for adult criminals.

This became the subject of general conversation and consideration among the thieves; so much so, that Mr. Jackson was sent for to come to them at a court called Blue Anchor-yard, when they one and all declared that "emigration would be a capital thing for chaps like us."

Mr. Jackson then invited Lord Ashley to attend a meeting of the thieves, to hear their tale, and counsel them; and on Thursday evening, July 27th, his lordship attended an assemblage of two hundred and seven professed thieves.

Some five or six gentlemen were present with Lord Ashley at this meeting with the thieves, and among them the writer of this statement. It was such a meeting as no one who had been