Having thus given the children as much information on the subject as they will be likely to be able to digest properly, you may then get it back from them by question and answer; as for instance

Q. What have we been talking about? A. Birds' feathers. Q. Do they do the birds any good? A. Yes, keep them warm. Q. What more good? A. Make them able to fly. Q. Who gives the birds feathers to make them warm? A. God. Q. Are feathers very heavy? A. No, very light. Q. What is the reason that they are very light? A. That they may fly easily. Q. What part of the body does a bird fly with? A. Its wings. Q. Is no other part useful in flying? A. Yes. Q. Do you remember what part? A. Its tail. Q. Of what use is its tail? A. To guide it. Q. What do you mean by guiding it? A. Turning it any way it wants to go. Q. What is the reason that birds' feathers do not get all full of wet when the rain falls on them? A. Because there is an oily juice that makes the rain fall off. Q. When little birds, such as sparrows and robins, come out of the eggs, have they got feathers? A. No, they are naked. Q. Are they very long naked? A. No, in a few days the feathers grow. Q. Is it not curious that the cold does not kill the little birds while they are naked? A. So it would, only the old ones sit over them and keep them warm. Q. Are ducks and turkeys and hens naked when the come out of the shell? A. No. Q. What are they covered with? A. A sort of down. Q. Do you know of any bird that has very pretty feathers? A. Yes, the peacock. Q. Is it prettier than the goose? A. Yes. Q. Is it so useful? A. No. Q. What do the goose feathers make? A. The feathers in the quill make pelts? Q. What do the small ones make? A. They make stuffing for pillows and beds. Q. Where do the prettiest birds live? A. In very warm places, far away from this. Q. Do the same feathers always remain on a bird? A. No, they drop off, and new ones come. Q. What is this called? A. Moulting.

Such lessons as this will never be forgotten by the little ones. They will learn to adore the great God at the sight of any thing he has made. It is hoped they learn to love to read Nature's book when they grow older, as every correct notion obtained by a child, through a natural object, which it is frequently accustomed to meet with, can never be entirely effaced; and what is more, it prepares the way, at some future time, for a larger amount of knowledge as to God's revealed will.

A spider, a living specimen of which may be easily procured, may be made a very instructive gallery lesson; it may prevent the fears and foolish prejudices against ugly yet harmless insects, which often remain through life. Part of a bush may be procured with a real web and spider upon it, so that its beautiful and highly curious web may be also exhibited to the children, its uses may be also pointed out, and a short history of the little animal's habits may be given, but not before their opinions have been taken on the object, which may be done in a similar manner as that which we pointed out in the former lesson, and then the teacher may proceed thus:

You have told me that this little creature is called a spider, and some of you think it very ugly, and say you are afraid of it, but sensible children will not be frightened at a spider, because they will remember that they are very harmless little things, and have not got a sting as the wasp and bee have. They are very ugly, to be sure, but every ugly insect is not to be called a nasty creature, for some are very useful, notwithstanding their not being as handsome as others; and spiders are very useful too, although very few people know how to make use of them; but they little think that the poor little insect which they brush off the wall, and trample under their feet, can tell them what weather they are going to have, as sure, and surer than a weather-glass. When the weather is going to be fine it peeps its head out of its hole, and stretches out its legs; and the farther its legs and head are out, the longer will the fine weather stay. When the weather is going to be very bad it goes farther back; and when very dreadful and stormy weather is going to come, it turns its back to the door of its hole and its head inside. In winter, when frost and snow is going to commence, they make their webs very fast, and by this you may know the frosty weather is coming; so you see, children, that spiders may be useful to know what kind of weather we shall have.

Spiders are very cunning; they live on flies; but they could never catch them, only they are able to weave a strong web, which they do in a place where the flies often come; and when a poor fly gets into the web, the spider runs out and soon kills it, and then drags it up to his den, where he eats it at his ease, and hides the wings and skin, that the other flies may not see them; but if an enemy stronger than itself comes to his web, the spider remains in his hole till the danger is all over. Some spiders that live in countries far away are a great deal larger and uglier than our spiders; but we need not be ever afraid of a spider, because they can neither bite nor sting us, and are very curious insects. Q. What have I been telling you about? A. The spider. Q. Are you afraid of it? A. No, you told us it would do us no harm. Q. Are spiders very ugly? A. They are. Q. Should we think badly of them for this? A. No. Q. Who made the spider? A. God. Q. Does he not make every animal, whether handsome or ugly? A. Yes. Q. Can spiders be of use? A. They will tell us what weather we are going to have. Q. When it is going to be fine what do they do? A. They put their legs and head out of their hole. Q. When it is going to be bad weather what do they do? A. They turn their heads round and go into their holes. Q. When the weather is going to be very cold and frosty what do they do? A. They build their webs very fast. Q. What do they live upon? A. Flies. Q. How do they catch them? A. By making webs. Q. When a fly gets into their web what do they do? A. They kill it and eat it. Q. Are the spiders in other countries larger than ours? A. Yes, in some places they are much larger and uglier. Q. Who teaches the spider to make its web? A. God. Q. Could any man in the world make a spider's web? A. No, no one could do it.

The teacher may then add thus:—Thus you see, little children, that every living thing has some merit of its own, and can do many things which we cannot do, although God has given us the means to become so much wiser than they; and be sure you are not frightened at them, nor put them to unnecessary pain. Some other day I will tell you what is the shape of the spider's web, and shew you what a number of regular figures the spider's web is composed of.

Almost every object, however simple it may be, will form an instructive gallery lesson; thus for example, you may take a piece of bog-turf, and after submitting it to the inspection of the infants, you may inquire, What is this? If it be in a country where turf is used, a general exclamation will inform you of its name; if not, you may find a better and more familiar object for your lesson. When you have got the name, you may then ask its uses, and will soon find that the children are well acquainted with them. You may then proceed to give your own information on the subject in something like the following words, taking care that you use no word that the children do not themselves understand, or that you have not explained to them.

Little children, look at what I hold. You have told me it is a piece of bog-turf, and it is used to make fires. In Ireland turf is more used to make fires than coal, because it is very plentiful there, and many of the poor people in Ireland build their houses of it, and when they keep them well mended and covered, they are very warm and comfortable, and they burn good turf fires in their turf houses; but some of them are lazy, and do not keep their turf houses mended, so the rain comes in, and they are very miserable, and so will all idle lazy people be. I hope no little child here will be lazy, Now I will tell you where they get all this turf, they dig it out of the bogs. There are bogs in England; they call them mosses or fens, and in Scotland there are bogs, but the bogs in Ireland are much more plentiful. Some of them are so very large that you cannot see across them, and a great many birds live amongst them, such as wild ducks, and geese, and cranes, and herons, and snipe, all of which I will tell you about some other time. Those great bogs are very wild, lonesome, dreary places; no person can live on them, because they are so wet and soft, and they are full of great deep holes with water in them, which are called bog holes, and if any person fell in they would be drowned. Sometimes in the middle of this great bog you will see a pretty green island, where the land is firm and strong, and the grass is nice and sweet, so that the poor people make a dry path across the wet bog to these islands, that they may drive their cows, and goats, and horses to feed there; and some of these islands are very pretty places, and look so green in the centre of the black bog. Those bogs which are now such wet, black, nasty places, were once forests of great trees, as large as any you children ever saw, and pretty bright rivers ran through those forests, and nice birds sang in the branches, and great stags eat the grass underneath; we will read about the stag at some other time. This was many hundred years ago, and there were very few people living then in Ireland, and by degrees, when the trees got very old, they began to fall down into the rivers and stopped them up, so that the water could not flow on, and the rivers overflowed all the nice forests, and the trees all fell, so that when some hundred years passed they were all down, and the branches rotted, and the grass and clay became wet, like sponge, and the whole of the nice shady forests of great trees became what we call bogs, and the remains of those pretty branches and leaves, where the birds used to sing so sweetly, has become turf, like this piece which we have for a lesson; and when men are cutting this turf out, they often find the great trunks of those trees, that many hundred years ago were so green and beautiful, quite black and ugly, but still so hard that they can scarcely be cut, and these old trees are called bog-oak, and the cabinet-maker buys them and makes them into beautiful chairs, and tables, and presses, and many other things, and they are quite black, and when polished you little children might see your faces in them. Thus you see, my little children, that there is nothing which God has made which is not very wonderful and curious, even this piece of bog-turf, which you would not have heard about if you did not come to the infant school to learn about so many useful and curious things.

This will perhaps be enough of information for one lesson; and having thus infused it in an agreeable form into their minds, you may proceed in the manner before mentioned to get it back from them, in order to impress it more firmly on their understandings; and if this be always done in the proper manner, they will become as familiar with the subject, and learn it as quickly as they would the tissue of nonsense contained in the common nursery tales of "Jack and Jill," or, "the old woman and her silver penny," whose only usefulness consists in their ability to amuse, but from which no instruction can be possibly drawn; beside which, they form in the child's mind the germ of that passion for light reading which afterwards, in many instances, prevents an application to any thing solid or instructive. Being in themselves the foundation stone on which a huge and useless mass of fiction is piled in after years, the philosophical mind will at once perceive the advantage of our system of amusement mingled with instruction, and perceive that upon its simple basis a noble structure may be afterwards raised; and minds well stored with useful lore, and capable of discerning evil in whatever shape it presents itself, and extracting honey from every object, will be farmed, which, when they become numerous, will cause a glorious change in the moral world, the first germ of which will be traced to the properly managed gallery lessons of an infant school. Having asked the children if they are tired, the teacher, if he receives an answer in the negative, may thus proceed:—