reader must not overlook what is meant by the word mind when used in reference to education. That some dumb animals are possessed of a sort of understanding is admitted; but it has never been asserted that they enjoy the use of reason. Man, however, has the faculty called reason in addition to his understanding; he has a power of classifying or arranging, abstracting and generalizing, and so arriving at principles. In other words, his mind is capable of method. Accordingly, what we mean by saying that the object of education is the cultivation of our minds, amounts simply to this, that we better perform our functions as rational creatures in proportion as we carry further the distinction between ourselves and the brute creation.— The New Cratylus.

THE ORIGIN OF LANGUAGE.

We think we may fairly assume as the basis of our view with regard to the origin of language the account given in the Book of Genesis, so far as that account is confirmed by the researches of modern authors. We find that the structure of human speech is the perfect reflection or image of what we know of the organization of the mind: the same description, the same arrangement of particulars, the same nomenclature, would apply to both; and we might turn a treatise on the philosophy of mind into one on the philosophy of language by merely supposing that everything said in the former of the thoughts as subjective is said in the latter of the words as objective. And from this we should infer that if the mind of man is essentially and ultimately the same, then language is essentially the same, and only accidentally different; and there must have been some common point from which all the different languages diverged some handle to the fan which is spread out over all the world-some first and primeval speech; and that this speech was not gradually invented, but necessarily sprung, all armed, like Minerva, from the head of the first thinking man, as a necessary result of his intellectual conformation. Now this agrees with the account in Genesis ii. 19, 20.-The New Cratylus.

DONNE, JOHN, an eminent English clergyman and poet, born in London in 1573; died there in 1631. He studied at Oxford and Cambridge, being designed for the legal profession, but in his nineteenth year he abandoned law for theology. He had been educated in the Catholic religion, but he renounced it for the Church of England. While secretary to Lord Edgerton he privately married a niece of that nobleman and was discharged. In 1610 he wrote the Pseudo-Martyr, which procured him the favor of James I., who persuaded him to take holy orders, and about 1614 made him one of his chaplains. He distinguished himself as a preacher, and was later made Dean of St. Paul's. Donne wrote sermons, devotional and controversial treatises, poetical satires, elegies and epigrams. A complete edition of his works, was issued in 1839, under the editorial care of Dean Alford. Donne was the first and Cowper the second of the school which Johnson denominated" metaphysical" poets, who labored after conceits and novel turns of thought. Dryden styles him "the greatest wit, though not the greatest poet of our nation." Hallam says: "Donne was the most inharmonious of our versifiers. Of his earlier poems many are very licentious; the later are chiefly devout. Few are good for much, the conceits have not even the merit of being intelligible."

THE SOUL'S FLIGHT TO HEAVEN.

Think in how poor a prison thou didst lie;
But think that death hath now enfranchised thee!
And think this slow-paced Soul, which late did cleave
To a body, and but by that body's leave,

Twenty, perchance, or thirty miles a day,
Dispatches in a minute all the way

"Twixt heaven and earth! She stays not in the air,
To look what meteors there themselves prepare;
She carries no desire to know, nor sense,
Whether the air's middle region is intense
For the element of fire, she doth not know
Whether she passed by such a place or no;
She baits not at the moon, nor cares to try
Whether in that new world men live and die;
Venus retards her not to inquire how she
Can-being one star-Hesper and Vesper be.
He that charmed Argus's eyes, sweet Mercury,
Works not on her who now is grown all eye;
Who, if she meet the body of the Sun,

Goes through, not staying till her course be run;
Who finds in Mars's camp no corps of guard;
Nor is by Jove, nor by his Father barred;
But, ere she can consider how she went,

At once is at, and through, the firmament:

And, as these stars were but so many beads

Strung on one string, speed undistinguished leads

Her through those spheres, as through those beads a string,

Whose quick succession makes it still one thing;
As doth the pith which, lest our bodies slack,

Strings fast the little bones of neck and back,
So by the Soul doth Death string Heaven and Earth.

SONNET TO DEATH.

Death, be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful; for thou art not so:

For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow Die not-poor Death; nor yet canst thou kill me.

From Rest and Sleep, which but thy picture be, Much pleasure; then from thee much more must flow.

And soonest our best men with thee do go Rest of their bones, and soul's delivery!

Thou'rt slave to Fate, Chance, Kings, and desperate
Men

And dost with Poison, War, and Sickness dwell;
And poppy or charms can make us sleep as well.

Or better, than thy stroke: Why swell'st thou then? One short sleep past, we wake eternally,

And Death shall be no more: Death, thou shalt die !

ELEGY ON MISTRESS ELIZABETH DRURY.

She who had here so much essential joy,
As no chance could distract, much less destroy;
Who with God's presence was acquainted so
(Hearing and speaking to him) as to know
His face in any natural stone or tree

Better than when in images they be ;
Who kept, by diligent devotion,

God's image in such reparation

Within her heart, that what decay was grown

Was her first Parents' fault, and not her own;
Who being solicited to any act,

Still heard God pleading his pre-contract;
Who by a faithful confidence was here

Betrothed to God, and now is married there;
Whose twilights were more clear than our midday ;
Who dreamed devoutlier than most use to pray;
Who, being here filled with grace, yet strove to be,
Both where more grace and more capacity
At once is given. She to heaven is gone,
Who made this world in some proportion
A heaven, and here became unto us all
Joy (as our joys admit) essential.

A VALEDICTION FORBIDDING MOURNING.

As virtuous men pass mildly away,
And whisper to their souls to go;
Whilst some of their sad friends do say

The breath goes now-and some say, No;

So let us melt, and make no noise,
No tear-floods nor sigh-tempests move;
'Twere profanation of our joys

To tell the laity our love..

Our two souls, therefore-which are one-
Though I must go, endure not yet
A breach, but an expansion,

Like gold to airy thinness beat.

If they be two, they are two so
As stiff twin compasses are two:
Thy soul, the fixèd foot, makes no show
To move, but doth, if the other do.

Such wilt thou be to me, who must,

Like the other foot, obliquely run;
Thy firmness makes my circles just,
And makes me end where I begun.

THE LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT.

Before I sigh my last gasp, let me breathe,
Great Love, some legacies :-I here bequeath
Mine eyes to Argus, if mine eyes can see;
If they be blind, then, Love, I give them thee;
My tongue to Fame; to Ambassadors mine ears;
To Women, or the Sea, my tears;

Thou, Love, hast taught me heretofore

By making me serve her who had twenty more, That I should give to none but such as had too much before.

My constancy I to the Planets give :
My truth to them who at Court do live;
Mine ingenuity and openness

To Jesuits: to Buffoons my pensiveness;
My silence to any who abroad have been ;
My money to a Capuchin ;

Thou, Love, taught'st me, by appointing me
To love there where no love received can be,
Only to give to such as have no good capacity.