A novel mode of making children always copy the head line, instead of their own last line, has been suggested, which we think worth trying. It is to write up the page instead of down; writing the last line first, and so on upwards. The benefit seems to be worth securing: for many children confirm themselves in bad writing by copying and repeating their faults. Instead of this, if they write upwards, they cover over the lines they have written (with blotting paper), and can only copy the copy-head. It is, however, always essential that the eye of the teacher should be on the scholars whilst writing. Awkward modes of holding the pen or placing the arm, should be checked at once, and not allowed to grow into habits which they otherwise assuredly will. NEEDLEWORK.-In fact, the proper system in a girls' school, is a half-time system, as to reading and work. I am sorry to observe that Mr. Norris in his report says "That in mixed schools under a master, the needlework is apt to be neglected-nothing can compensate for this;" and "that he finds more attention is paid to boys' schools than to girls', and that where you find three or four good boys' schools, you will scarcely find one efficient girls' school." This ought not to be, and from my own experience as a parish clergyman, I can say that the thrifty wife who can sew well, and who understands her household duties so as to make her husband's home comfortable, keeps him from the beer-house, and, in fact, may double his week's wages by good management. Of all lessons the schoolmistress can teach, and which she ought thoroughly to understand herself, this is among the most important.-From Dean Dawes' admirable Lecture on Effective Primary Instruction. A MOTHER'S POWER.-The mother of the great and good Haldane was a woman of strong faith. It is recorded by R. Haldane that, when he was only six, he distinctly remembers his mother kneeling by the side of her infant boys at night, and pleading with God that he would guide them through the world, which she felt she was going to leave, that their lives might be devoted to His service on earth, and that they might be brought to His heavenly kingdom. These prayers were like a silver cord running through their lives with a holy and heavenly influence-often invisible, but never destroyed, and after their paths had long diverged, and each had followed his own way, bringing them at last into the oneness of a higher brotherhood than that of nature. Deep and lasting was the impression of maternal tenderness made upon the mind of one whose lines, on seeing the portrait of his mother, will never be forgotten: "Oh, that those lips had language! Life has passed R. Cecil says:-"Where powerful influence does not correct, it hampers, it hangs on the wheels of evil. I had a pious mother, who dropped things in my way I could never rid myself of. I was a professed infidel; but then I liked to be an infidel in company, for alone I was wretched; I could not divest myself of my better principles. Depend upn it, maternal influence is not to be thrown off; if it does not correct, it will make a man unhappy with himself."-British Mothers' Journal. K GEOGRAPHY. HE Ocean is formed by a multitude of tiny drops of water, the river and the mountain brook alike contributing their respective quotas. So is it with the science of Geography. Though, but one vast subject, it has been made up of a multitude of little facts and discoveries, drawn now singly, now many together, from a hundred different sources. Its history is in itself of a most instructive character, particularly in its earlier branches, as it enables us to estimate more justly the amount of civilisation and knowledge possessed by our predecessors in the bygone ages of the world; and induces us to endeavour to add our mite to its ever increasing store. Why then should this science become so frequently irksome to the young? Simply because it is often not well taught. A little child commits to memory with vast labour the names of a great number of places, of whose real character he is utterly ignorant. Perhaps he can repeat by rote every market town in his native country, and is looked upon as the pattern geographer of his class; perhaps also he can tell us for what productions each of these places are famous; but it is all learned as a parrot learns his lesson, and must not be estimated above its intrinsic value. A real knowledge of Geography embraces a far wider field than this. It teaches us not only the names of certain localities, but their character also-not only for what productions they are famous, but why they are so famous-not only of what historical events they have been the theatre, but why they were chosen to be the fields of such deeds. It teaches us not only how man may alter the face of the earth on which he dwells, may build cities, and change the wilderness into a garden; but how the earth itself may act upon man -how the love of freedom and of country is engendered by dwelling in a mountain region-that of thrift by a residence in the open plain-how the nature of the soil acts upon the vegetation with which it is clothed, and that again tells upon its human occupants-how the differences of its climate brace or enervate the mental and physical energies of man. All these, and a hundred similar topics, are included in a proper study of Geography, that world-wide science. Our object in this paper has been simply to point out the importance of this subject and to shew in what way it may be studied to the greatest advantage. Let us now turn our attention to Ancient Geography a little more in detail, and we shall find that when rightly examined it conveys to us a vast amount of information. To understand its real value, however, we must look at it under several points of view, such as the amount of knowledge possessed by the ancients, their means of increasing their knowledge, their allegorical and traditional accounts of what was not yet clearly understood by them, and their manner of delineating or representing what they did know. A primitive people in a state of barbarism would know little or nothing of the nations or countries that surrounded them; but as intercourse with these nations increased, their knowledge would increase also-they would begin to compare their neighbour's country with their own-to mark its differences and to notice its productions, and then they would insensibly take the first step in the knowledge of Geography beyond their own little centre. Hence it is evident that the amount of geographical information possessed by any ancient people marks the degree of intercourse it had established with others, but the character of that information will vary as the intercourse has been of a warlike or a commercial character, or the result of individual labours. If of a belligerent nature, the character of the country, its warlike defences, its mountain passes, its fordable rivers, the courage or pusilanimity of its inhabitants, will be prominently noted down. If commercial, the productions of the country, its means of transport, the wants and the skill of its inhabitants will be the principal objects of notice. If the information is derived from the accounts of individual travellers it will refer principally to the remarkable features of the country, to its animal, vegetable, and mineral curiosities, and to the habits and manners of its people. Thus in the name given to our own land by the Phoenicians, "The Isles of Tin," we at once perceive that the intercourse was of a commercial character, while that given by the Spaniards to the southern extremity of South America, "Terra del Fuego," (the land of fire) equally marks a name given neither by an invading army nor a commercial company, but by individual adventurers. We have dwelt somewhat longer on this subject because we were anxious to point out how much information might be gained by its judicious study which could not so easily be obtained from other sources; and thus prepared, we shall be enabled to watch with redoubled interest the gradual unfolding of geographical knowledge amongst the nations of antiquity. The first people who paid any attention to this science were the Chaldeans and Egyptians, and it is said that the first map was made by Sesostris the First, who conquered Egypt. This king, says Eustathius, having traversed great part of the earth recorded his march in maps, and gave copies of these maps not only to the Egyptians, but to the Scythians also, to their great astonishment. The greatest geographical effort, however, made under Egyptian auspices was that commanded by Pharaoh Necho, who despatched some Phoenicians, says Herodotus, from the Arabian Gulf with orders to return by the Pillars of Hercules and the Mediterranean Sea. This they accomplished, returning to Egypt in the third year, having wintered on the coast of Libya, where they sowed and gathered in their harvest, before advancing further, a somewhat tedious method of proceeding certainly, in the eyes of our present adventurers, but an actual necessity under their circumstances. Modern geographers appear inclined to treat the whole of this narrative as fabulous, and Herodotus himself seems to east a shade of doubt upon their assertions, for after telling us that while sailing round Libya they declared they had the sun on their right hand, he adds, this "does not appear credible, however it may seem to others." To us, however, this incredible fact appears to give veracity to the whole statement, as they would scarcely have thought of inventing such a circumstance had the expedition been a fable. But though these nations led the van in geographical discoveries, they were followed by many others, Phoenicians, Greeks, and Romans, of whose successive researches, and the motives by which they were produced, we find abundant evidence in ancient historians. We will not here attempt to follow them, our desire being merely to indicate to the student the route he ought to follow. In judging, however, of the slow pace at which our predecessors advanced, as we trace them step by step, we must recollect that they laboured under far greater difficulties than we do, The early geographers being destitute of mathematical instruments and of astronomical observations, endeavoured at first to ascertain the situation of places according to climate, that climate being determined by them according to the form and colour of the animals inhabiting the different countries whose position they wished to point out. Thus the northern and southern limits of the Torrid Zone were marked by the appearance of negroes and of animals of a large size, such as the elephant and rhinoceros. Now it is evident that such a mode of proceeding must be slow, and liable to many mistakes for which we should be prepared to make great allowances. Thus, Herodotus having learned from Homer that the lambs of Libya have horns at their birth, and seeing that sheep in Scythia remained hornless all their lives, he concluded that a warm climate is especially favourable te the growth of horns. Had he seen the four and six horned sheep inhabiting the shores of the Baltic, he would have been strangely perplexed as to the climate of their country. Similar difficulties must have been of constant occurrence in the then limited state of general knowledge. Another great source of confusion must have arisen from so much of their information being obtained from hearsay, rather than actual observation. Thus, Herodotus, in describing India from the reports of others, related that there were ants there as large as foxes, who burrowed in golden sand, and were so extremely formidable that it was not without great danger that the soil was collected and carried off! The geographical confusion of the old world would have been still greater had not the Egyptians and Babylonians subsequently adopted a second and surer method of determining the situation of places, or their distance from the equator, by observing the length of their longest and shortest days. This they performed by means of a gnomon erected upon a horizontal plane, by which they were enabled to measure the length and shortness of the shadow in proportion to the height of the gnomon. Thus did our ancestors proceed, feeling their way as it were in the dark, till the fourth century B.C., when the famous school of Alexandria gave a new impetus to geographical science. Timocharis and Aristillus, 295 B.C., established the position of stars according to their longitude and latitude, taken with respect to the equator; these were subsequently transferred to the ecliptic, and then by an easy transition Hipparchus was led to dispose the different points of the earth also, according to their latitudes and longitudes, and is consequently allowed universally to have first fixed the solid foundation of geography by uniting it to astronomy, and thus rendering its principles self-evident and invariable. If, however, the ancients were wanting in correct and extensive information, they amply made up for their deficiency by their superabundant store of tradition and allegory; and this is a phase well worthy of our careful consideration, as the myths of a nation are strikingly illustrative of its character. Thus, with the Greeks in Homer's time, their actual knowledge extended only to Greece, Egypt, Asia Minor, and the adjoining islands. Beyond these limits all objects appeared to them in the prismatic hues of wonder and enchantment, and in their records we find nothing but monsters, nations of dreams and the abodes of bliss. These delusive forms were chiefly gathered in the north-western quarter of the hemisphere. All the early writers in Greece believed in the existence of certain regions situated in the west, beyond the bounds of their knowledge, and as it appears, of too fugitive a nature to be ever fixed within the circle of authentic geography. Homer describes at the extremity of the ocean the Elysian plains, "where, under a serene sky, the favourites of Jove, exempt from the common lot of mortals, enjoy eternal felicity." Hesiod, in like manner, sets the Happy Isles, the abodes of departed heroes beyond the deep ocean. The Hesperic of the Greeks continually fled before them as their knowledge advanced, and they saw the terrestrial paradise still disappearing in the west. Now with the light these vague dreams throw upon the subject, let us compare the intellectual character of the Greeks with that of surrounding nations, the Egyptians for example. The Grecian myth of a terrestrial paradise the everlasting abode of departed heroes, shews us their belief in immortality after death, that this present life was not their all; it marks also that they could not conceive the soul enjoying a happy existence independent of the body; their paradise was on earth not in heaven, and those most fitted for its enjoyment were the heroes rather than the benefactors of mankind. Now let us turn to the Egyptians, we do not find with them the same glowing accounts of terrestrial paradise and the eternal felicity of the heroes upon earth, and yet they had the same knowledge of immortality and the soul, but their views were purer and of a less material nature. Their hieroglyphic paintings represent this very clearly. In these they give us a picture of what happens to the soul after death. First it is represented in the form of a bird with a human head, and bearing a sail, emblematical of flight, hovering over the body it has just quitted, and which lies stretched on a bier surrounded by weeping relatives. We then find it standing before Osiris the judge of all the world, the incarnate Deity himself. Here it is judged not according as it has been a hero or a warrior on earth, but is literally weighed in the balances, the good deeds being represented as placed in one scale, the emblem of truth in the other. Should the balance be in its favour then it enters at once not to a terrestrial paradise like the Greeks, but into the closest connection with the Deity; should it be otherwise, it is returned to earth in the form of a pig, there to expiate its sins in animal degradation. This is but one example of the information the scholar may draw from the wildest geographical regions of antiquity by comparing them with the allegories (even those of a mythological character) belonging to surrounding nations. It is sufficient, however for our present purpose. There is another branch of this subject which we ought not to pass over quite unnoticed; those allegories in which the ancients so freely indulged, and which though at first sight they appear like puerile mythological fables, really refer frequently to geographical facts. We will give an example of this also. Diodorus Siculus and other ancient writers give us strange and, at first sight, incomprehensible accounts of the Amazons and Gorgons, and of the strife carried on between them; but if we lift the veil of allegory that envelopes them we shall perceive that they typified the oceanic and volcanic action. The Amazons were a vast host, for the waves of the ocean are countless. The Gorgons were only three in number, because the foci of volcanic action must necessarily be few in any one place. They are represented with wings of gold, a body covered with impenetrable scales, hands of brass, their hair intwined with serpents, and to have had but one eye and one tooth between them which they use by turns. Their golden wings seem to indicate flames, the serpents in their hair, the streams of lava rushing in circuitous courses down their sides; the hands of brass and the body covered with impenetrable scales may readily be applied to their |