Down in this hollow, holding on to the stem of one of these ash-trees, and close to the water into which he was intently looking, stood a little man in black, talking loudly and somewhat testily to a taller personage similarly habited. The voice I soon recognized as that of my old friend Dr. Shoveller, but as he did not see me, I walked on very leisurely beside the stream, looking down into its depths at the weeds and pebbles iridiscent by the refraction of its glassy waters, which I now and then probed with my walking-stick at the imminent risk of falling headlong into them, for owing to their perfect transparency, I was again and again deceived as to the distance of the bottom.

A sudden exclamation from the doctor caused me to look round. His friend had knelt down, and dipping his hand into the water, was taking a morning draught, probably with the intention of ascertaining whether it possessed any mineral properties. Had the spring held poison in solution, he could scarcely have cried out more vigorously. But it was perfectly harmless; and the doctor's interjection, as I found afterwards, turned upon a joke-if joke it might be called-with the friend who knelt beside him. From the distance at which I stood, I could not hear distinctly what passed farther, but the brief and playful pantomime was wound up by a hearty laugh from the doctor, faintly echoed by the other. Creeping cautiously along by the help of the trees that overhung the spring-head, both of them soon reached a firm footing on the pathway along which I was walking, and stood for some seconds in the mottled shade and sun-light, at a few yards distance from me but apparently without any knowledge that they were observed. In another moment, the stranger bade my friend good morning and darting through a little opening in the thicket, made the best of his way across a ploughed field by an old ruined pile of grey wethers towards a bye-lane that led into the hot dusty weary high-way, crossing the hill at about a mile distance.

I stood still till my friend Shoveller, who seemed very deep in thought, came up to the spot where I was. He started from his reverie, and greeted me with more cordiality than I should have expected. Enderby!" said he, "I wish I had fallen in with you a little sooner. You didn't see that fellow who was with mee-there! there!-there he goes!" he added, taking me

by the elbows and forcing me round rather abruptly, as he pointed out the retreating form of his quondam friend. "That's Katcawl-you've heard of Katcawl? I should like you to have made his acquaintance."

I was sorrow to inform the doctor that I knew nothing of his illustrious friend. The name certainly did not prepossess me, but I suppossed there must be something about him which made him worth knowing.

"No?" said he, doubtfully, "he's a great man in his way: intelligent, smart, good sort of fellow; but one of your bigots. A great man, but a very little man-Eh?

"I'm sorry to hear it," I answered, "I don't like bigots."

"You don't say so? Enderby," replied the doctor, with so good humoured a smile, that I was scarcely prepared for what followed. "You don't like bigots, Enderby ?-why I thought you were one yourself?"

It is not so much what we say, as how we say it, that makes enemies in the world. I was not, therefore, in the least disconcerted by the remark, but said, laughing,

"You think so, do you, doctor? Will you tell me why?"

"All parsons are bigots: they must be so. Religion, as they hold it, is bigotry. They want to make a monopoly of that which is free as the air of heaven itself. They shut themselves up in little systems of their own, instead of searching for the good and loving the right, whenever and wherever they find it. We have Eclectics in philosophy, but none in religion.

This was a home-thrust. But I received it in the spirit which dictated the precept" Rebuke a wise man, and he will love thee." It came too very opportunely, for I had just been engaged in tracing the process by which a hundred prattling little rills became associated into one majestic river, and how by their combined agency the usefulness of each was multiplied manifold. Even when distinct from one another they were separated by circumstances only, and how joyfully they rippled on to meet and mingle in one common stream!

"I have long thought so," said the doctor, resuming his remarks; "but have never had the thing brought so forcibly before me as of late. I have spoken hastily, perhaps," he added in a tone of conciliation which was not lost upon me

"but I was thinking rather of that fellow yonder, than of yourself, Enderby. He's a great religionist in his way, but one of your class-christians; a man who will see no good in any thing-in any system-in any church-but his own. Show him the best creature that ever breathed, the most useful being in existence, and he asks directly to what clique the man belongs. 'Ah!' says he, if he does not jump with him—' he may be good for something: but he's under a bad system. He can be worth little at the best; he's identified with a bad system.""

I was gratified on the whole with the doctor's remarks. He spoke like one who knew something of his subject, and referred with considerable deference to scripture, of which I thought he had little or no knowledge. But we shall soon see that in this I was mistaken. It was a littleness in many cases to judge of men by the systems with which they were associated; and to think uncharitably of systems, and sometimes repudiate them altogether because they contained some things that were objectionable. Yet how many were there who stumbled at small offences in the church, while they committed the ten-fold greater one of causing a weak brother to offend by disputations which were at best doubtful. Christianity is a curative and not an irritating agency-a healer of the breach, a binder up of distractions-a tender and solicitous and watchful sustainer of the bruised and bowed.

The doctor was right. "It is part of a system!" invidiously uttered, had become the watchword of a party. Why, thought I, the present constitution of the earth itself is part of a system of chaotic disorder, destruction, death, flood, and fire. The rebuke and thunder of Omnipotence brought it into being, and the earthquake and volcano, the hurricane and the deluge, are but a few of the awful ministries still working out the purposes included in the great idea of God in Providence.

I was unwilling to utter all I thought, but I told the doctor that to some extent I agreed with him. Then following out the thoughts that had just passed through my mind, and pointing to the hills before us, I appealed to his geological knowledge in illustration of my speculations. "Why," said I, "those hills are 'part of a system,' the tremendous apparatus connected with

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which would strike horror into the stoutest heart, if we could for one moment look behind the scenes, and pry into the terrific and mysterious laboratory from which they were brought forth."

"True-true-" replied he, "you overheard my argument, did you? It was that very idea that frightened Katcawl. You saw something of his flight over the ploughed fleld. But you shall hear the story:"

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'Ready!” said I; "and as we are not to part company just yet, you shall tell it me as we walk under the lee of these undulating downs."

"I will," he answered,

"and something more, and more

important too.'

(To be continued.)

H. R. E.

LOOK TO THE END.

No period of life is more important than that which immediately succeeds emancipation from school discipline and a prescribed routine of study. This is acknowledged by all who take an interest in the young; and the subject has occupied the attention of many writers of sound piety, and intimate acquaintance with the human heart. Excellent advice has been offered, and valuable regulations laid down, for the guidance of young people who are just entering the world; but, notwithstanding all this, reflecting parents justly regard this time as the crisis in the moral and intellectual progress of their children-the turning point in the formation of their characters, when selfdiscipline should take the place of restraint, and habits of steady industry succeed to the stimulus of scholastic pursuits.

That such were the views of my own parents, I can have no doubt, both from the letters I received during the few weeks previous to my leaving school, and also, from the books with which I was at that time furnished. I read and re-read my letters-studied my books, and believed myself quite ready, nay, anxious, to pursue the line of conduct pointed out to me. I was a capital theorist; methodical, industrious, and selfdenying in intention; but in reality indolent, and too volatile steadily to pursue a system however excellent. I had formed

a regular plan of study-decided to go through a course of instructive reading, and to exercise my memory by making abstracts of what I read. These I arranged to send to my friend, Anna Selwyn, who was in her turn to give me an account of her pursuits. In short, I fully purposed to improve my mind, and endeavor to become fit for the important situation I was intended to fill. My delight in forming plans was only equalled by my eagerness to put them in execution.

It was late in the evening when I arrived at home, and I regretted this circumstance chiefly because it precluded the possibility of commencing operations till the following day. Both my brothers were at this time absent, Philip being at the university, and Edward having recently entered upon a situation in Mr. Selwyn's counting-house. So much the better, I argued, their presence would only have diverted my mind from my duties. I should go on more steadily without them, and by the time Philip's long vacation commenced, I hoped to be thoroughly settled.

To rise early, being one part of my projected system, I begged that my boxes might be carried up stairs directly, intending to unpack and arrange my things before breakfast the following day. I had hitherto slept in a light closet adjoining the chamber of my parents, but now a very pleasant room, the one over my father's study, had been neatly fitted up for my use. With many advantages this room had one drawback-it overlooked the church-yard, and I discovered, somewhat to my surprise, that the vain and superstitious fears, which during my childhood had fastened on my imagination, were not totally removed. Certain it is, that I was unable during several hours to compose myself to rest. At length day dawned-my terrors subsided, and I slept soundly. awaking, I perceived my mother softly retiring from my room, evidently unwilling to disturb my repose. I knew it must be late, and rose instantly. It was a bright sunny morning, and as I drew up the blind, and looked out on the pretty burialground, and the blue hills beyond, I wondered at my foolish fears, and resolving not to betray them, hastened to join my parents.

On

Breakfast ended, I returned to my room, and commenced