The great end of natural-history reading should be the development of a love for the objects dwelt upon, and a desire to know more about them. This can only be brought about by such practical acquaintance as collecting and preserving them induces. At the same time we should be sorry to see our young readers degenerate into mere collectors! It is a great mistake to suppose, that because you have a full cabinet of butterflies, moths, or beetles, therefore you are a good entomologist; or that you may lay claim to a distinguished position as a geologist, on account of drawers full of fossils and minerals. But this is a mistake into which young naturalists frequently fall. We have seen people with decided tastes for these studies never get beyond the mere collecting. In that case they stand on a par with collectors of postage-stamps. Nor is there much gained, even if you become acquainted with English, or even Latin, names of natural-history objects. Many people can catalogue them glibly, and never make a slip, and yet they are practically ignorant of the _real_ knowledge which clusters round each object, and its relation to others. Both Latin and English names are useful and even necessary; but when you have simply learnt them, and nothing more, how much wiser are you than before? No, let the learning of names be the alphabet of science--the means by which you can acquire a further knowledge of its mysteries. It would be just as reasonable to set up for a literary man on the strength of accurately knowing the alphabet, as to imagine you are a scientific man the moment you have learned by heart a few scores of Latin names of plants, fossils, or insects! Let each object represent so much knowledge, to which the very mention of its name will immediately conjure up a crowd of associations, relationships, and intimate acquaintances, and you will then see what a store of real knowledge may be represented in a carefully-arranged cabinet.