head, which is flat and square; then, giving his head a jerk, he tosses the earth to the distance of several inches. Thus he goes round the circle; then he marks and shovels out another furrow inside the former, and so on till he reaches the centre of the circle. In order that the whole burden may not come upon one leg, when he has finished one furrow, he proceeds with the next in an opposite direction. Should he come to a bit of gravel, he lays it on his head, and flings it out; should the stone be too large, he shoulders it, and carries it on his back up the sloping side of the pit; if this cannot be done, he either leaves the pit, or works the stone into the wall. The pit, when completed, is conical, sloping down to a point, where the ant-lion takes his station, and, in order that other insects may not suspect his object, covers himself with sand. When idle and thoughtless insects see this pit, they must needs look in to see what it is, and what it is for; but as they indulge their curiosity, the sand gives way under them, and down they go. If they attempt to escape by climbing the side, it yields beneath their feet, and the ant-lion beneath pelts them with sand in such a manner, as soon to put an end to their endeavors: having fed upon his prey, the aht-lion, in order to save his reputation, throws the skin to a considerable distance. After having led this life for two years, the ant-lion is promoted to the rank of a fly,

LESSON XCIII.

Proper Method of Education. - PROFESSOR JARDINE.

THE beneficial effects of a philosophical education are numerous. In the first place, it is calculated to engraft upon the minds of the students a strong habit of reflection and inquiry. Not only are the powers of reason improved and invigorated, and thereby rendered more efficient, as

the instruments for prosecuting science and literature, but, what is of much greater consequence, the talent of using them is at the same time acquired, and the young man finds that the gifts of nature are made available to all the higher purposes of his education, as well as the noblest objects of his intellectual existence.

The daily necessity, which this mode of instruction imposes upon the pupil, of forming distinct notions; of attending to the evidence on which his judgments are founded; of arranging his thoughts; of determining, by means of analysis and induction, the links which constitute a chain of reasoning; and, above all, of expressing his ideas in correct and perspicuous language, can scarcely fail to produce mental habits of acuteness, activity and discrimination. Now, here, the practical method of teaching philosophy rests its main claim to notice on this characteristic circumstance, that it sets little value on the mere communication of knowledge, whether by books or by lecture, compared with the immense importance of exercising the minds of young persons on the knowledge which is thus conveyed to them. As far as an acquaintance with a few facts in science is considered, the attendance of young men on the lectures of a professor is viewed as carrying with it hardly any advantage whatever. A little well-directed reading would accomplish the same end, just as effectually, and at much less expense.

To render academical studies useful, therefore, the student must not be allowed to act the part of a mere recipient. On the contrary, he must be taught to ruminate on what he hears; to pass it all through the channels of his own mind; to arrange and digest it; to write on it; to reason on it; and, finally, to make it his own by combining with it his own thoughts and reflections. He is to regard the lecture not simply as the history of philosophical research, or even as the authoritative vehicle of scientific conclusions, but principally as the means of supplying him with those materials, on which he is to employ his faculties in the several processes of analysis and arrangement, of reasoning and of composition.

LESSON XCIV.

A Poet's Address to his Youngest Daughter.-HOGG.

CHILD of my age, and dearest love!

A precious gift from God above,

I take thy pure and gentle frame,
And tiny mind of mounting flame,

And hope that through life's chequered glade, —
That weary path that all must tread,-
Some credit from thy name will flow
To the old bard who loved thee so.
At least, thou shalt not want thy meed,
His blessing on thy beauteous head,
And prayers to Him whose sacred breath
Lightened the shades of life and death-
Who said, with sweet benignity,
"Let little children come to me."

Come, look not sad; though sorrow now
Broods on thy father's thoughtful brow,
And on the reverie he would dwell,
Thy prattle soon will that expel.

How darest thou frown, thou freakish fay,
And turn thy chubby face away?
And pout, as if thou took'st amiss
Thy partial parent's offered kiss ?
Full well I know thy deep design;
'Tis to turn back thy face to mine,
With triple burst of joyous glee,
And fifty strains at mimicry!

LESSON XCV.

The Blessed Spirits. - JAMES MONTGOMERY.

PALMS of glory, raiment bright,

Crowns that never fade away,
Gird and deck the saints in light,-
Priests and kings and conquerors they.

Yet the conquerors bring their palms
To the Lamb amidst the throne,
And proclaim, in joyful psalms,
Victory through his cross alone.

Kings their crowns for harps resign,
Crying, as they strike the chords,
"Take the kingdom-it is thine,
King of kings, and Lord of lords."

Round the altar priests confess,

If their robes are white as snow, 'Twas the Saviour's righteousness, And his blood, that made them so.

Who were these? On earth they dwelt,
Sinners once of Adam's race ;
Guilt, and fear, and suffering felt,
But were saved from all by grace.

They were mortal, too, like us;
Ah! when we like them shall die,
May our souls, translated thus,
Triumph, reign and shine on high.

LESSON XCVI.

Flowers. WILLIAM HOWITT.

THE return of May again brings over us a living sense of the loveliness and the delightfulness of flowers. Of all the minor creations of God, they seem to be most completely the effusions of his love of beauty, grace and joy. Of all the natural objects which surround us, they are the least connected with our absolute necessities. Vegetation might proceed; the earth might be clothed with a sober green; all the processes of fructification might be perfected without being attended by the glory with which the flower is crowned.

But beauty and fragrance are poured abroad over the earth in blossoms of endless varieties, radiant evidences of the boundless benevolence of the Deity. They are made solely to gladden the heart of man, for a light to his eyes, for a living inspiration of grace to his spirit, for a perpetual admiration. And, accordingly, they seize on our affections the first moment that we behold them. With what eagerness do very infants grasp at flowers! As they become older, they would live for ever amongst them. They bound about in the flowery meadows like young fawns; they gather all they come near; they collect heaps; they sit among them, and sort them, and sing over them, and caress them, till they perish in their grasp.

"This sweet May morning,
The children are pulling,

On every side,

In a thousand valleys far and wide,
Fresh flowers."

We see them coming wearily into the towns and villages, with posies half as large as themselves. We trace them in shady lanes, in the grass of far-off fields, by the treasures they have gathered and left behind, lured on by others