prize for Christmas; but they must ever be annoyed by the thought that such prize was not honestly obtained. Boys! be honest in your school work. If the sum is difficult, if you cannot parse the sentence given you, don't copy -that is stealing-but honestly confess your inability, and by careful thought try to master the difficulty.

Boys and girls are sometimes dishonest with little things that happen to be lying about. Perhaps it is an apple, or a book, or a shilling, or a thimble, or a brooch. "Oh!" they say, "it will never be missed, and it looks so nice I should like to have it;" then, perhaps, the hand is stretched out to take it. Sometimes the voice of conscience is so strong that it requires a struggle to overcome their better feelings; and it may be, a little thing turns the scale. A little boy called Jem, it is said, was once employed by a lady to do some weeding in her garden; his work lay very near to a wall on which were growing some splendid peaches, and peaches were things the like of such did not often feel the sharpness of Jem's teeth. For a time he did not take much notice of them, but every time his eyes fell upon them they seemed to look larger and finer. At last he stopped in his work and wondered whether he could not have

just one. There was a struggle. Jem knew it was wrong to steal peaches, but then they looked so beautiful! At last, looking round to see that no one was near, he put out his little chubby hand. Now it happened that in a tree close by, a sparrow was perched, and just as he was stretching out his hand, this sparrow called out "Jem;" at least that was what Jem's conscience made of the sharp, clear chirp, that the sparrow gave, and immediately he drew back his hand, and with a face red with shame at the thought of having nearly become a thief, he went to his work and tried to forget the peaches.

Sometimes boys and girls are led into dishonesty by the influence of bad companions. Suppose a youth leaves home and becomes an apprentice in some distant town. He soon forms companionships; perhaps he has become the associate of youths who smoke cigars, go to singing saloons and theatres. Perhaps his own

parents are poorer than theirs, and where they have half-crowns for pocket-money, he only has sixpence or a shilling. They may be very kind at first, and treat him to many places of amusement; but this does not last long, and he soon finds his pocket-money running short, and perhaps he gets into debt. The next day he may have a good deal of his master's money passing through his hands, and he appropriates a shilling to his own use and escapes detection. It may be the first, but it is ten chances to one that it will not be the last. The practice begins, but none can tell where it will lead to; in hundreds of cases it has led to other acts of theft, to forgery, to fraud on a large scale, and then either to a suicide's death, or to a life of penal servitude. So with young girls, the desire for finery, has led to thefts of ribbons, rings, brooches, and other things to the entire loss of reputation, and perhaps to an early hopeless death.

Sometimes young people are tempted to be dishonest by people who ought to be ashamed of themselves. In London and many other large cities, children are taught to steal by their parents, or others who have charge of them; you ought to be thankful that you are taught to be honest. Sometimes they are tempted to be dishonest by their employers; shopkeepers will encourage their youths to adulterate articles for sale, and to take advantage of customers when they can do it safely. Safety and not honesty is the motto of such people. A story is told of Dr. Adam Clarke, the celebrated Wesleyan preacher and commentator, that when learning the business of linen-draper, he was one day measuring pieces and found one was some inches short of the required length. His master took hold and requested him to do the same, that they might stretch it to the required length; but this Adam refused to do, and consequently left his master's service. The loss of situation is far less than the loss of character, and there are few employers indeed who would not highly value a servant who, at such a risk, would refuse to do a dishonest thing.

But the strongest reason we have to give for being honest, is that honesty is right. A thief

may hide himself from the gaze of men; other kinds of fraud may escape detection by the policeman; but there is always one witness of every dishonest action; for as the little boy said to his father who had been looking all round to see if any one was near to witness his theft, "Father, you forgot to look upwards, where God is." Remember in every hour of temptation, "Thou God seest me;" and at all hazards, and amid every temptation try to preserve a character for "Being Honest; and, in the long run, you will assuredly find that "Honesty is the best policy."

ور

Peeps at Insect Life.

NE of the most interesting little books that has recently been published for young people is entitled "Fairy Frisket; or, Peeps at Insect Life." It is published by Nelson and Sons, and is beautifully illustrated. On account of its price many of our young friends will probably never see this book; we therefore propose to make a few extracts from it for the benefit of our readers. The first two chapters are full of interesting talk about Fairies. One of them, by name Know-a-bit, undertakes to instruct two boys named Philibert and Sydney. The fourth chapter is entitled,

THE ANT-HILL.

"COME on, Sydney, will you; what are you stopping to stare at ?" cried Philibert Phili

more.

"An ant-hill. Oh! how curious it is to look at the little hillock, all alive with busy creatures! How they swarm, and how active and lively they are! There's one ant dragging a great bit of twig-I mean great for so tiny a ereature to manage-and he can't manage it, poor little fellow! He'll leave it—he'll give up the task. No, no; just see: he has gone up to another ant; he's tapping him with his feelers-I daresay that's his way of saying,

'Please, old boy, come and help me!' Oh what fun!-there they both are at the twig; a long pull, and a strong pull, and a pull all together! Well done, little ants, well done! I am sure you work with a will."

'Horrid, ugly little brutes! I can't think how you are so stupid as to care to watch them!" cried Philibert. "I am sure there's nothing worth seeing in an ant-hill.”

"That is the conclusion of ignorance," said a bird-like voice from the branch of an old oak which spread over the green woodland path. Philibert and Sydney both started and looked upwards; and whom should they see, seated upon a twig, but their learned friend Know-abit the fairy. He looked much as he had done when the boys had last met him in the study, except that his spectacles had disappeared, and that a pair of long dragon-fly wings were folded behind him. Sydney was so glad to see his fairy again, that he uttered an exclamation of joy.

"Man," continued the fairy, "is proud of his fine buildings, his grand works of art, the houses which he raises by the help of numberless tools-the hammer, saw, trowel, and axe, the crane and the pulley, the lever and the wheel. Those little insects which you have the folly to scorn, with no tools but those with which nature supplies them, scoop out long passages and deep tunnels, and raise buildings story upon story-buildings which are far more wonderful and grand, in proportion to the size of the little workers, than St. Paul's or Westminster Abbey, or the great Egyptian Pyramid itself!"

"You don't mean that wretched ant-hill!" cried Philibert.

"I more especially speak of the labours of the white ant, or termite,- -an insect related to the dragon-flies and may-flies, rather than to the rusty-brown little workers before you. In Africa these builders raise nests that are sometimes twenty feet in height, and so strong that the wild bull can stand on the top to look out if danger be near!"

"What a famous ant-hill that must be!" exclaimed Philibert; "why, this little heap of

twigs and withered grass would not support a cat!"

"Pray, Mr. Fairy, tell us more of these curious white-ants and their habits," said Sydney.

"The gigantic nests of these termites," observed Know-a-bit, "are each like a populous city, with its palace-cell for king and queen in the middle, and rooms round it for their guards and attendants, who are always in waiting. These rooms are joined to magazines formed to hold provisions, which look like raspings of wood and plants, but which principally consist of gums and sugar. Near these are the nurseries."

"Nurseries!" interrupted Philibert; "what kind of creatures are baby ants ?-do they wear bibs or pinafores ? "

"Not exactly," replied the fairy. "Ants first appear in the shape of tiny eggs, of which there will sometimes be as many as eighty thousand in an ant hill. From these eggs come little white pupa, which are carefully tended, or educated, as we may call it, by nursing ants, until they are able to take care of themselves."

girls of the ant "But what are Do they wear

"These are the boys and city, I suppose," said Sydney. the king and queen like? splendid colours to show their rank ? "

"They are rather distinguished by size than by colour," answered the fairy. "The king of the termites is about twice as large as one of his soldiers, and ten times as large as a labouring ant."

"How funny it would be if there were such differences between human beings!" cried Philibert; "if King George had been twice as big as the Duke of Wellington, and ten times as big as his gardener."

"He would have been a great king indeed," observed Sydney; and both boys burst into a merry laugh.

"Size is not the king's only distinction," continued the fairy: "in his perfect state he has four large brownish transparent wings; but they adorn his majesty for but a few hours."

"We may call them his robes of state,” ob

served Sydney, "which he has very soon to put off."

"To die," added the fairy.

"I suppose that the queen white ant is not nearly so big as the king, as she is the lady," said Philibert.

"Nay, there you are greatly mistaken," said the fairy. "In the hill of the termites, as in the hive of the bee, the queen, the great mother, is by far the most important person in the state; and the white ant queen, at one period of her life, is of size quite enormous compared to her subjects. She is thousands of times as big as one of the labouring ants, and so large that it is quite impossible for her to get through the doorway of the cell which she had entered when comparatively small, so that her palace is also her prison. The queen, like the king, has for a short period wings, or robes of state, as we call them; but this is before her great increase in size."

"You mentioned soldiers, Mr. Fairy," said Sydney; "pray, do the king and queen of these termites keep a standing army of ants? "

"A regular standing army of warriors, of about the size of earwigs, who have nothing to do but to fight. Their weapons are powerful jaws, protruding from very large heads; and with these they can inflict very severe bites. If part of the wall of their city be broken down, out rush the bold soldiers to defend the breach, ready to attack any invader; while the labourers, who have no fancy for fighting, take refuge within."

"Like the women keeping safe in a castle, while the men are defending the walls," observed Sydney.

"So staunch is the courage of the soldiers," said Know-a-bit, "that sooner than quit their hold on an enemy, they will suffer themselves to be pulled limb from limb."

"Well done, little heroes," cried Sydney. "When the fight is over," continued the fairy, "the soldiers leave to the labourers all the trouble of repairing the walls, as they had done that of building them. No soldier termite will deign to lift a burden, nor so much as look after one of the baby ants."

"Then I should say that, except in time of

war, these big soldiers are useless fellows," observed Philibert.

"Therefore in the beautiful arrangement of nature, an ant hill contains but one soldier to about a hundred workers," said Know-a-bit.

"I don't think that we have so much as one soldier to a hundred other people," remarked Sydney.

"These termites are very curious creatures, but I suppose that they are very useless ones,' said Philibert.

"They are exactly the same kind of use to to the Africans as your father's pheasants and hares are to you."

"You don't mean to say that any one eats them," cried the fat little boy, with a look of disgust. "I'd rather starve than dine upon ants!"

"White ants are not only eaten, but they are considered by the Africans a delicate dainty," said Know-a-bit. "They have been compared in taste to sugared marrow; also to sweetened cream, and paste made of almonds.”

Philibert opened his eyes very wide on hearing this, and began to think that a dish of termites might be no such bad thing after all.

五

HOLD ON, BOYS.

OLD on to your tongue when you are just ready to swear, lie, speak harshly, or say any improper word. Hold on to your hand, when you are about to strike, pinch, scratch, steal, or do any disobedient or improper act. Hold on to your foot when you are on the point of kicking, running away from duty, or pursuing the path of error, shame, or crime. Hold on to your temper when you are angry, excited, or imposed upon, or others are angry about you. Hold on to your heart when evil associates seek your company, and invite you to join in their games, mirth, and revelry. Hold on to your good name at all times, for it is more valuable to you than gold, high places, or fashionable attire. Hold on to your truth, for it will serve you well, and do you good through eternity. Hold on to your virtue-it is above all price to you in all times and places. Hold on to your good character, for it is, and ever will be, your best wealth.

9

The Death of Jacob.

HE Arabians have a capital proverb which says," Every day in thy life is a leaf in thy history." Our life may thus be likened to a book; and when death comes, the last word is added, the book is closed, and God's great seal is set to it. Nothing can then be erased or altered: what is done is done: what is written is written, and there it must remain.

In the picture on page 24 we have represented the death of Jacob. His last hours are come, his sons are gathered round him to receive his dying blessing, and the book of his life is about to be closed. As we take up the book of Jacob's life, and read it through, we see many things to admire, many to deplore, and some even to despise. But the most important thing in the book of Jacob's life is this, that it improves as we go on; the middle is better than the beginning; and the end is better than the middle. A great philosopher has said,—“If a man is not rising upwards to be an angel, depend upon it, he is sinking downwards to be a devil."

It is very sad to think how many grow worse as they grow older. Dean Swift said, "Corrup tion grows with years, and I believe the oldest rogue in England is the greatest." We have known men the morning of whose life was beautiful, the noon was dull and cloudy, while the evening was dark, dreary, dismal, tinged with no glory, and promising no heaven. Now Jacob's life was the reverse of this. It did not begin well. Naturally he was a mean, selfish man. He was greedy and covetous, and would resort to base tricks in order to compass his ends. His conduct towards his brother Esau was mean and scandalous in the extreme; there is no word too bad to be used when describing it. And for a long time after this, his prudence was always bordering on meanness.