Exemplary heart, the Yielding heart, and the Zealous heart in a good cause.'

"I must see that little book: do tell me the names of the bad hearts."

66

Certainly, if you wish to hear them; but there is very little good done in either reading or hearing a catalogue of names, unless you hear more of them and reflect about them."

“Please to repeat them over, there is a good uncle."

"Oh! oh! you are coaxing me, are you? Well, you shall have the names. There are the Angry heart, the Backward heart, the Cruel heart, the Disobedient heart, the Envious heart, the Foolish heart, the Godless heart, the Hard heart, the Idle heart, the Jarring heart, the Knavish heart, the Lifeless heart, the Malicious heart, the Narrow heart, the Opposing heart, the Proud heart, the Quarrelsome heart, the Repining heart, the Sinful heart, the Treacherous heart, the Unbelieving heart, the Vile heart, the Wanton heart, the Excuseless heart, the Yielding heart, and the Zealous heart, that is, a heart zealous, but not according to knowledge and the Bible. You see here, Edmund, how many good qualities there are to be attained, and how many bad qualities there are to be avoided. Do not forget these things."

"I cannot remember half of them; but,

when you give me the book, I shall soon learn them."

"The verses and the Scripture texts are of much more importance than the names of the good and bad hearts. A wise head and a virtuous heart are the tongue's best directors. You may remember, Edmund, that in Learning to Think,' it is said that Henry's mother wrote him a letter, wherein she says, Beware of high-mindedness and conceit, for they sometimes glide into the heart unawares. As pride is folly, so he, who is not humble, cannot be wise.' Now, I would warn you of the same thing. In all your conversations be humble-in learning to converse, forget not that you know but little, even though you may know more than some who have not had your advantages. In a young person, self-conceit is one of the worst of qualities, because it prevents him from seeing his own errors. Have you conversed with any one to-day, Edmund ?"

66

No, uncle, I have not spoken to any stranger to-day."

"To tell you the truth, I am glad of it; for though what you said to the poor man with the bundle was quite proper, you are too young yet to seek occasions of conversing with grown people with any prospect of good to them; while the practice might lead you to think too highly of

yourself. I am not at all anxious that you should converse much at present. As yet, you may learn more towards conversing wisely by silence, than by speech. Treasure up all that I tell you; add to your knowledge; pay attention when you hear wellinformed people speak; reflect on what they say; and look onwards hopefully and trustfully to be able in proper time to take a useful part in conversation."

"You will not forget to give me the little book, uncle-the Alphabet of Good and Bad Hearts."

66

No, I will not forget; and, perhaps, tomorrow I may tell you of a kind-hearted gentleman, with whom I lately travelled, who had not only learned to converse well, but who took every opportunity of making his attainment useful to those around him. Both his heart and his tongue were influenced by Christian charity; and to honour God, and do good to man, appeared to be his constant occupation."

BOURNE BROOK.

HERE is Mary Fisher, going through the brook, with her full panniers, mounted on the old grey mare, and the black terrier is following after. Many a time has Mary crossed the brook, not only when the shal

low water has rippled over the pebble stones as it does now, but also when the

current has reached up to the girths of the gray mare. But though Mary has crossed the brook often enough in her time, she has not crossed it half the times that I have.

This brook, wherein, when a stripling wild,
I bathed my burning brow,

Ran rapidly on when I was a child,
And it runs rapidly now.

How long it has been called Bourne Brook, or why it has that name, I cannot tell you; of these things the oldest man in

the village is as ignorant as I am. There are many reasons why I like Bourne Brook. I like it, because I used to slake my thirst at it when a boy; and because I have sailed my paper boat upon it in summer, and made slides upon it in winter. And there is another reason why I like it, which I have not yet told you.

One day in autumn, when the sun was blazing in the skies over Bonner's Barn, I came running, boy as I was then, to the brook, so thirsty that I thought I should never be satisfied. Oh, it was a delicious draught! I seem to remember it as though it was but yesterday.

Well, as I lifted up my head, who should I see, sitting in the shade of the high bank by the brook, but Andrew Morrison, with his Bible in his hand. Calling to me, he said, "It is written in the 110th Psalm, He shall drink of the brook in the way therefore shall he lift up the head.' Now, if you drink, Robert, of the brook of God's promises as eagerly as you drink of the waters of Bourne Brook, you will lift up the head indeed."

Andrew Morrison, at that time, was but little short of fourscore, and his fingers seemed to me to know the way to every verse in the Bible, so readily did he turn to different passages of Scripture. "It was from the brook, Robert," said he,