ting temples of education to the service of the young. curtain across the other half of the continent. When, Since I have been here, the Governor of the Common- sir, in the halls of legislation, men advocate measures wealth, Mr. Briggs, went to Newburyport, a distance like this, it is no figure of speech to say, that theis of forty miles, to attend the dedication of a school house words are the clanking of multitudinous letters; each which cost $25,000. On a late occasion, when the gesture cf their arms tears human flesh with ten thousame excellent Chief Magistrate travelled forty miles sand whips; each exhalation of their breath spreads to attend the dedication of a school house in the coun- clouds of moral darkness from horizon to horizon. try, some speaker congratulated the audience because the Governor of the Commonwealth had come down from the executive Chair to honor the occasion. "No," said he, "I have come up to the occasion to be honored by it." Within the last year $200,000 have been given by individuals to Harvard College. Within a little longer time than this, the other two colleges in the State have received, together, a still larger endowment, from individuals or the State. Twenty years ago a sharp sensation ran through the nerves of the civilized world, at the story of a young man, named Casper Hauser, found in the city of Nuremberg, in Bavaria. Though sixteen or seventeen years of age, he could not walk or talk. He heard without understanding, he saw without perceiving; he moved without definite purpose. It was the soul of an infant in the body of an adult. After he had learned to speak, he related that, from his earliest recollection, he had always been kept in a hole so small that he could not stretch out his limbs, where he saw no light, heard no sound, nor even witnessed the face of the attendant who brought him his scanty food. For many years, conjecture was rife concerning his history, and all Germany was searched to discover his origin. After a long period of fruitless inquiry and speculation, public opinion settled down into the belief that he was the victim of some great, unnatural crime; that he was heir to some throne, and had been se questered by ambition; or the inheritor of vast wealth, and had been hidden away by cupidity; or the offspring of criminal indulgence, and had been buried alive to avoid exposure and shame. A German, Von Feuerbach, published an account of Casper, entitled "The Example of a Crime on the Life of a Soul.” These measures are a part of a great system which we are carrying on for the elevation of the race. Last year the voters of Massachusetts, in their respective towns, voluntarily taxed themselves about a million of dollars for the support of common schools. We have an old law on the statute book, requiring towns to tax themselves for the support of public schools, but the people have long since lost sight of this law in the munificence of their contributions. Massachusetts is now erecting a reform school for vagrant and exposed children so many of whom come to us from abroad --which will cost the State more than a hundred thousand dollars. An unknown individual has given $2,000 dollars towards it. We educate all our deaf and dumb and blind. An appropriation was made by the last legislature to establish a school for idiots, in imitation of those beautiful institutions in Paris, in But why go to Europe to be thrilled with the pathos of Switzerland, and in Berlin, where the most revolting a human being shrouded from the light of nature, and and malicious of this deplorable class are tamed into cut off from the knowledge of duty and of God? Todocility, made lovers of order and neatness, and capa- day, in this boasted land of light and liberty, there are ble of performing many valuable services. The fu- three million Casper Hausers, and as if this were not ture teacher of this school is now abroad, preparing enough, it is proposed to multiply their number tenhimself for his work. A few years ago, Mr. Everett, fold, and to fill up all the Western world with these the present President of Harvard College, then Gover-proofs of human avarice and guilt. It is proposed nor of the State, spoke the deep convictions of Massa that we ourselves should create, and should publish chusetts people, when in a public address on educa-to the world, not one, but untold millions of "Example tion, he exhorted the fathers and mothers of Massachu- of a Crime on the Life of the Soul." It is proposed that setts in the following words:"Save," said he, "save, the self-styled freeman, the self-styled christians, spare, scrape, stint, starve, do anything but steal," to of fifteen great States in this American Union, shall educate your children. And Dr. Howe, the noble engage in the work of procreating, rearing, and selling hearted dictator of the Institution for the Blind, lately Casper Hausers, often from their own loins; and if uttered the deepest sentiments of our citizens when in any further development of soul or body is allowed to speaking of our duties to the blind, the deaf and dumb, the American victims than was permitted to the Baand the idiot, he said: "The sight of any human be-varian child, it is only because such development will ing left to brutish ignorance, is always demoralizing increase their market value at the barracoone. It is to the beholder. There floats not upon the stream of life a wreck of humanity, so utterly shattered and crippled, but that its signals of distress should chalenge attention and command assistance" not from any difference of motive, but only the better to insure that motive's indulgence. The slave child must be allowed to use his limbs, or how could he drudge out his life in the service of his master? The slave infant must be taught to walk, or how, under the shadow of this thrice glorious Capitol, could he join a coffe for New Orleans. I know, sir, that it has been said, within a short time past, that Casper Hauser was an impostor, and his story a fiction. Would to God that this could ever be said of his fellow victims in America. Sir, it was all glowing and fervid with sentiments like these, that a few weeks ago I entered this House -sentiments transfused into my soul from without, even if I had no vital spark of nobleness to kindle them within. Imagine, then, my strong revulsion of feeling, when the first set, elaborate speech which I heard, was that of the gentleman from Virginia, proposing to extend ignorance to the uttermost bounds of this Republic; to legalize it, to enforce it, to necessitate it, and CHILDREN -Children may teach us an enviable art make it eternal. Since him, many others have advo--the art of being happy. Nature has given to them cated the same abhorrent doctrine. Not satisfied with that useful power of accommodation to circumstances dooming a whole race of our fellow-beings to mental which compensates for so many external disadvantadarkness, impervious and everlasting- not satisfied ges. Give him but a moderate portion of food and with drawing this black curtain of ignorance between man and nature, between the human sou and its God, from the Atlantic to the Rio Grande, across half the continent they desire to increase this space ten, twenty, millions more, and to unfold and spread out its black kindness, and the pleasant child is happier than the prince. Free from artificial wants, unsated by indulgence, all nature ministers to his pleasures. He can carve out felicity from a bit of hard twig, or fish successfully for it in a puddle. THE DAILY GOVERNESS. BY CHARLES DICKENS. The lark went up to heaven, seeming to beat his breast against the adjacent sky; yet tiny speck as he was scarcely discernable to the keenest vision-his song was audible to Lucy Hinchliff in her mother's little garden. Lucy was a daily governess, and was in the act of plucking a rose to adorn her bosom, before she set out to enter upon the day's routine. She cast her eyes around the modest garden-it was a very modest, very little garden-looked up at the lark once more, received the last note of its song into her soul, smiled at the grey-headed mother in the pinched widdow's cap, who was standing at the window, waved her adieus, and closed the small gate after her. Wringlinen on one occasion. "Hard, indeed. I think The lady at whose house Lucy commenced the in- own ፡፡ Ah, Hinchliff. There was not in all the suburb in which we lived, a better girl, a prettier girl, a more loving, more dutiful daughter, than Lucy Hinchliff. She first attracted our attention when we went, with sachel on our back, willingly enough, to school. She was younger by two years than ourselves a little, timid thing, as we re-future, you would remember not to give a double member her She had a father at that time, but we knock, you would oblige me. I really thought it was could see that the old gentleman was poor; and once visitors, and, as I was in my dishabille, it set me all in we were prompted to offer her some of our victuals a flutter--you should consider my nerves, Miss Hinchwhich we bore in our bag (for we dined at school), liff.” fearing that she had not enough to eat at home. It was only a boy's thought, and now we are more happy that we did not commit ourselves by the insult, than if we had realized our early dreams,-those bubbles bred in a child's active brain. Poor Lucy! If she could have afforded to be so much in fashion as to own to the possession of nerves, the lady's nervousness would have infected her. "Now, Miss Hinchliff," said Mrs. Robert Smith, when the governess had taken off her bonnet and shawl on the morning we made her acquaintance, "are you up in those new quadrilles yet." "I am very sorry, ma'am, but I have been so much engaged-I only took them home the day before yesterday, and so little of my time is my own." Her father died and they became poorer. A rich relation took Lucy away, to bestow upon her a superior education. It was all he could do for her, he said; though he kept his carriage, and his servants, and cast bread to dogs. She returned to her mother after three years, to aid their mutual support by teaching. "Well, Miss Hinchliff, of course, if you have too Who knows, besides themselves, the lives that daily many engagements, and my dear children are to be governesses lead? Who has tasted, besides them-neglected on that account, it will be Mr. Robert Smith's selves, the bitterness of the bread they eat? The fine duty to seek another responsible person, whose enmistress may not frown too severely upon her cook orgagements are not so numerous: you cannot object to footman. They would resent it, and would seek anthat, I am sure other place. But the poor governess! That she will resign her engagement is not to be apprehended. And are there not dozens scores, who would be glad to succeed her, if she gave herself airs? There are tragedies in real life more sad to witness than any of the histrionic art, and the life of the daily governess, meager circumstances, is one whole tragedy. in "I am "Ch, ma'am," was Lucy's faltering reply; too happy to be employed by you. I will be sure to get the quadrilles ready by to-morrow." God pity her. She spoke the truth. She was too happy to be employed by Mrs Robert Smith "I will excuse you this time, Miss Hinchliff," said the lady, conciliated by Lucy's answer, "but I shall certainly expect the quadrilles to-morrow. I think you said when we first engaged you, that you taught Ítalian? Priscilla is to learn it." "I shall be most happy, ma'am," replied Lucy, brightening up. "You Lucy Hinchliff closed the garden gate, and passed from her mother's sight. I was a fine morning, and she was early. She had, therefore, no occasion to hurry, as she was sometimes obliged to do. She felt very glad that the morning was fine, for, to tell the homely truth, her shoes-well nigh worn cut--were Mr. Robert Smith says that he has read-he is a far from being water-proof. She had sat all day with great reader as you know that there are some very wet feet once before, from the same cause, and much pretty poems in Italian, though he called one by a need she had to be careful of her health for her mothery sho king name kind of play-house thing" er's sake. She had few acquaintances on the road she Which was that, ma'am?" inquired Lucy, mentaltraversed though she was as familiar as their ownly reverting to Goldoni and Metastatio. children's faces to all the small tradesmen-they saw her pass so regularly morning and evening. The green-grocer would frequently tell his wife that it was me to get the breakfast, for the young lady with the Do you meta Tante's Divine Comed· ma'am? music-paper was abroad. The toll-gate keeper was "Yes, that is it--a vory predly poem-is it not?" Lucy's only speaking acquaintance of the male sex. "It is considered a very fine poem. ma'am." He had always a kind word for her. Nor did Lucy "Yes, pretty or fi bar's what Mr. Robert Smith fail to ask him after the child that was scalded- a right-called it; though I h, if is a comedy, it shouldn't ful accident that-or whether his eldest girl was at home yet, and other little queries. "There she goes," the man would say, when she had turned from him "Her's is a hard life, poor thing!" "Not hard at all, Mister Martin," retorted Dame "You ought to tell me," replied the lady. know, of course the pretty Italian poem with the play-licuse name be called Divine." Lucy assured the July that the Div'nna Commedia was not a play in five acts, with stage directions, but ra her a religious poem. "I understand your meaning," said her employer, something like Milton, I suppose. I have h ard Mr. Robert Smith remark - his remarks are so to the purpose--that Milton was a tragedy, quite You will understand that you are to teach Priscilla Italian And about the terms, Mr. Robert Smith says that you are not to increase them, as he really can't afford it" "Ma'am, said Lucy, astonished.” Miss Hinchcliff," exclaimed Mrs. Robert Smith; "really, at your age, a young woman should know the value of her promise." "I could not disturb my mother," said Lucy appealingly. Of course, I take all that into consideration,” replied her employer. "But you, as a responsible perre-son, should know the value of a promise. However, I will excuse you since your mother is dying-only don't let it happen again. You will commence Priscilla's Italian this morning, of course?" ፡፡ If you object, of course, we must find another sponsible person, who will include Italian for the amount of your present salary." Lucy's mother was in failing health. Need we say she was 66 too happy" to teach Italian without remune- "I have been so unfortunate as to forget my own ration, under the circumstances On this same morn-grammar, but if Priscilla is provided with one--" ing Mrs. Robert Smith dismissed her cook, who blun- "Her father says that he cannot afford any Italian dered at a pate de foie gras, and hired another at great-books-her French ones came so expensive. He ly enlarged wages. thought you could have no objection to lend her yours." What could Lucy say, but that her books were at Priscilla's service? Her mother was worse that evening, and had been, as the neighbor said, delirious during her absence. Lucy asked herself whether she should practice the qi adrilles She was not long in deciding. Though they should go without bread, she would not forget her duty as a daughter. Her place was at her moth The widow Hinchcliff was not only failing in health, but she was nearer death than Lucy had any idea of When the poor girl returned home that evening-she went to six houses first, and walked a distance of seventeen miles she found that her parent had been obliged to retire to bed The servant, alarmed by her mistress's condition, had called in a neighbor, who only waited for Lucy's return to urge the propriety of sending for a doctor. Lucy not only assented, but ran herself to fetch one "I can give you no hope,' heer's bedside. said; and she felt that a blight had indeed passed over her young life. When one that we dearly love is stricken down to die, we look out upon the world as if we had no longer hope, or part, or any lot. therein. She had to practice the quadrilles that night on her hired piano, in fulfilment to her promise made to Mrs Robert Smith. Her mother had fallen into one of those dozing restless slumbers, peculiar to a state of sickness, and the thought of waking the notes of gay quadrille music in the house on whose threshold, even at that moment, Death, the destroyer, stood, shocked Lucy's feelings. No, she could not do that, let Mrs. Robert Smith say what she pleased That day Mr. Robert Smith paid a visit to a friend, whose governess not only taught Italian for the same salary that was paid to Lucy Hinchliff, but also professed to include Spanish. When Lucy was admitted the next morning, the lady placed a small sum of money in her hand, and informed her that domestic arrangements" would render her attendance in future unnecessary. The poor girl was not at all cast down by this circumstance. Was not her mother ill-dying at home? She would not be obliged to leave her so early in the morning. Her mother died three days afterward. A letter sent by Lucy to the rich relation, brought a cool answer back, in which the writer recommended her to be industrious, and to "keep her character." And now Lucy was alone in the world, in which are so many faces, and so many hearts beating with warm life. Even the tollgate keeper had disappeared His place was supplied by a stranger, a man of coarse, repulsive aspect, Lucy felt the loss, even of that ac quaintance. She sat through the longest night she had ever known-for the heart measures the hours-not the clock-a watcher by her mother's bed. When the glad sunlight came gushing in at the casement, and lark after lark poured forth his jubilant thanksgiving for his sleep in the dewy grass, she undressed herself and went to her own chamber, leaving the servant to supply her place There was no visible alteration in her parent when, with many fears and with one of the saddest hearts that ever beat in human bosom, she left the cottage upon her constant, diurnal mission. She was late, and had to walk hurriedly. It rained 100, and the water soaked through the leaky shoes, She had no smile for the tollgate keeper. He saw she was sad, and contented himself with a touch of One night--it was a cold, rainy, November nighthis hat, by way of recognition. He was sad too, for Lucy Hinchliff sat in her little room by her fire, pondering the scalded child had died during the night. "Best much over many things, but chiefest what it was fitnot tell her now," he thought; she has her own ting for a young girl like her to do, who, being so untrouble this morning." God help her. She has in-protected, was exposed to so many insults She gazed deed. "You are full ten minutes behind your time, Miss Hinchliff. I never find you staying ten minutes over your time," was Mrs. Robert Smith's salutation. "I am very sorry ma'am-but I left my mother at home very ill-dying ma'am, the doctor says," replied Lucy, bursting into tears. Within a month after her mother's death, she was compelled to resign another of her engagements; her employer, a widower, having made dishonorable proposals to her. She advertised in the papers, but could not meet with an appointment. She had removed into lodgings now. But at her mother's portrait which hung over the mantel- "Dying-dear me. Of course you feel very much put out; but punctuality, Mr. Robert Smith says, is the soul of an engagement-and you have a character" to keep up-but, as you are come, you can set Priscilla's mind at ease; she is dying to lay the quadrilles, and to begin her Italian." It was her old acquaintance, the toll-keeper. But not dressed as he was formerly. No. He wore a brau new suit of superfine Saxony cloth, and a gold "I-I was unable to run them through last night, watchguard communicated with his vest pocket. As malam, stammered Lucy, "my mother was so ill." far as equipment went, he was in all respects the gen "Then you are not ready with those quadrilles again,tleman. And in the heart besides in the heart besides "I beg your pardon, Miss, for intruding upon you," | comparatively removed from temptations to which he said, bashfully. I am come to speak to you about other classes of men are exposed. The legitimate obeducating my children." Lucy bowed. She thought she had misunderstood him. "I am come into a large fortune lately, Miss-a very large fortune--a matter of a thousand a year. I knew no more of it, three months ago, bless you, than the man in the moon; and I think, and my wife thinks, that our girls ought to be educated." Certainly," ," said Lucy, vacantly. She thought she was dreaming "And so we agreed that if you would come and live with us--we live in a fine house now-and be one of ourselves, and teach the children, we thought that we would take it very kind of you." ject of his exertions, the end of his proper aspirations, is to impart and develop the good and the true, to repress and correct the evil and the false, to make mankind wiser, purer, trucr, holier. What a glorious goal for ambition, purified from its gross and poisonous elements! The materials, too, placed in the teacher's andswhat are they? Immortal minds, in their nascent and most pliant state, ready to be moulded into forms of undying beauty and perfection, or distorted into shapes of hideous and ever during ugliness. The sculptor fashions out the inanimate marble into the "counterfeit presentment" of a man, while he who converts an ignorant and vicious child into a well-informed and virtuous citizen, creates, it may be said, the real man himself. The instructions, admonition and exhorta"And if you would think two hundred pounds a tions of the clergyman, too often fall ineffectively upon and a room of your own, enough, it is yours to the indurated heart of the adult, and not unfrequently, morrow and that's all about it." are too general and comprehensive to reach the feeThe speaker, in the excitement of having accom-ble understanding of the young. But the intelligent, plished his errand, clapped his hat on his head, and kind-hearted teacher, can adapt his instructions to the breathed freely. But he recollected himself, and took comprehension and affections of his tender and flexible his hat off again. charge Here, then, is a field worthy of the highest efforts of the wisest and most skillful husbandman. Yes," assented Lucy, mechanically, for she was not the whit nearer waking. year, "You wish me to be governess of your children Do I understand you aright?" said Lucy only half conscious that the scene was real. "Yes, miss, if you please; and if two hundred a year would satisfy you, why-why it's done, that's just where it is " "I thank God," cried Lucy, bursting into tears. was wide awake, and understood all now. and She Besides, how cheering to the teacher are the subse quent success and respectability of his pupils. To possess sensible evidence that we have been instru mental in sending out into the world, men and women who are an ornament to their country and a blessing to their race, is surely no slight compensation for the anxieties we may have suffered, the toils we may have endured, and the patien ce and perseverance we may have exercised To feel that we have rescued evenone individual from an ignominous or premature death, is more true and lasting glory than to have won a crown. And then the gratitude cherished by his pupils throughout life, towards a faithful instructor, comes to his heart like refreshing dew-drops It was all true-that was the best of it. The man had really inherited a large fortune, left him by some relative hitherto unheard of. And was not his early thought about the poor governess, who gave him a good word every morning, and inquired after Billy, who was scalded? Yes; for he had heard of her mother's death, and the proud consciousness of being able to confer a benefit on an orphan girl, elated his Finally, the teacher's vocation is becoming more heart as much as the possession of a thousand pounds and more appreciated; and he himself, as he improves per annum. Lucy, of course would not consent to re-in character and knowledge, fulfils more faithfully and ceive the salary he had named. How it was finally efficiently the sacred charge entrusted to him, attains settled, this chronicler knows not; but Lucy dwells to increased respect and a higher remuneration for his with the quondam toll-keeper, and looks happy--very services. happy With such motives to cheerfulness and energetic A small white stone has been erected at her moth-action, let no teacher despair; let none despise or er's grave. You may see it, if you will walk for the purpose, to Abney Park Cemetery, Stoke-Newington. CONSOLATION IN TEACHING. Amidst all the difficulties with which the instructor has to contend, there is much to alleviate his burdens, nuch to cheer him in his troubles and perplexities, uch to encourage him in his exertions. True, he is ubject to the contempt of the ignorant aristocrat, the contumely of the purse-proud millionaire, and the neglect of the ambitious politician. He can rarely aspire to the honors of office, or to the ease and luxuries of wealth. But, at such apparantly disheartening cireumstances, sound philosophy and genuine philanthropy only smile. There is a luxury in doing good, which abundantly compensates for many deprivations. slight his calling; for even the humble and obscure guide of the lowest grade of children, may be accomplishing the true purposes of life, far more perfectly than he who rides victorious over conquered nations, richest and broadest domains.-Massachusetts Teacher. or he who sits in jeweled majesty, sovereign over the GOOD MANNERS. We know a young man, slow, sullen, heavy-browed and ungracious, who, whenever you speak to him, answers as if it were an effort to be even decently civil; and who, moreover, seems to be quite content, and even proud, of his incivility. And we lean to the charitable side so far as to think this is nothing more than a bad habit of his, which has insensibly fastened upon him; and that he goes through the world-a The principle enemies against which the instructor world of mutual dependence-little aware of the fact, has to combat, are vice and ignorance. He is, there- that so small a thing as his manners is constantly profore, never called upon to battle in any unjust cause.ducing impressions, and fast forming a reputation, such He never has to defend the wrong in opposition to the as ten years hence he may regret as the greatest blun right, and his most efficient weapons are bloodless der of his life. arrows. Aloof from the turmoils of political strife, beyond the influence of that most bewitching and most deceitful of syrens, ambition for political distinction, and rarely jaundiced by inordinate thirst for gold, he is Would it not be well for every young man to remember the truthful anecdote of the rich Quaker banker, when asked the secret of his success in life, answered "Civility, friend-civility!" How much does it cost a man, either old or young, to be truly Arguments drawn from the distant future have far less civil in the intercourse of society? Rather, how much weight than those far more tangible ones in the living does it cost a young man to form his habits, which, if present. Still the teacher has a basis, and when he formed, will sit upon him casily, gracefully, and pro-has found where it lies, no matter how far down, he fitably, so long as he lives? Tar more often depends may begin to build upon it, only let him be careful to on this little, than any other single adventitious cir- lay well the foundation before he attempte too splendid cumstance by which men rise and fall. We may or imposing a superstructure. look around us, at any time, and see men high in This basis is that activity and that craving for knowlplace and power, who have not attained that ele-edge implanted in every mind. This natural activity vation by force of individual character or great may be perverted, almost destroyed, and this craving knowledge, but simply from the fact that the tri- turned to disgust; but they cannot be wholly obliterafling graces of life have not been despised It is ted, and while a spark remains, with careful fanning not a dancing master's grace that is now referred and proper fuel, they may again be kindled into an to, but that benevolence of manner that recognizes active flame. No child can be so stupid as not to be in little things the rights of others, and fully acknowl interested in something, and the skillful teacher will edges such rights. The thousand ways in which this find the means to increase an interest once excited, little courtesy does good, need hardly be mentioned. and turn it gradually into the desired channel. Let It may be said, however, that a courteous manner this be a fundamental rule, never to attempt to make has a reflective influence on the benevolent feelings a pupil study that in which he cannot be expected to It is a source of gratification to the man who practices feel an interest, and let it be remembered that with it. If it sits naturally upon a man, it is a passport young children this interest must lie in the study itself, to any place and any circle. It has smoothed many since arguments drawn from a more distant source a rough path for men first starting in business, and will not affect them. has been one of the things that has often crowned efforts with success. The man of experience, looking on an ungracious manner in a young person just starting into the world with nothing he can depend on but himself, is not angered, but rather pained, by what he sees knowing, as he does, that the want of that little something to please as we go along, will cause many a rough jog in the road, which, otherwise, might be as smooth as a summer stream. Wear a hinge in your neck young man, and keep it well oiled. In order to awaken an interest in his pupils, the teacher must himself both feel and manifest an interest in what he communicates. The Latin poet was right when he said: "If you wish me to weep, you must first weep yourself," and so if the teacher wishes his scholars to be interested he must be so himself. This interest, if it be genuine, can scarcely fail to communicate itself, for there is a cord in every breast which vibrates to the same note, and is peculiarly sensitive in children. A skillful hand will learn to touch it effectually. When once this interest is awa kened the same means will keep it in existence and increase it. Suppose the teacher to have succeeded thus far. The minds of his scholars are beginning to act, though feebly and irregularly-the spark is but just giving birth to the flame. Shall we now pile on the fuel in masses? Rather should he still apportion the labor to the slowly increasing strength of his subject, and still feed the fire with fuel that will be in no danger of smothering it. Gradually he will increase the task. taking care each time to reach as near the capacity of the scholar as possible. HOW TO INTEREST SCHOLARS. Earnestness in any pursuit is essential to success, and almost sure to secure it. "Where there is a will there is a way," is an old adage, and it is no less true that where there is no will there may as well be no way. It is very common for most who are about to make their first attempt at teaching if they enter upon it with any degree of interest, to feel certain there can be but little difficulty in awakening an interest in all their pupils. The knowledge acquired is in itself so full of interest, and there is so high a delight springing from success, while the very exercise This will require care and a nice judgment, but it of our powers is fitted to afford pleasure, and their is of vital importance-not so much that he may learn growth consequent on their exercise, a still higher the greatest amount possible, as because the mind pleasure; that he feels that no one can remain unin-will gain strength fastest by being exercised always to the extent of its powers Ohio Observer. terested. Now all this is true. The mind like the body craves food and exercise; knowledge is this food and study the exercise. The common and fatal error is to overload the stomach with indigestible food so as to produce loathing, and to impose upon the yet feeble shoulders a load which crushes to the earth. Is it wonderful that there is no mental activity produced, and no generous enthusiasm excited? "VALUE OF EDUCATION." There is no trade, no kind of manual labor, indeed, no employment in life, for which other things being equal, a man is not better fitted, and in which he may not do a better service to society, if he be educated, than if he is not; and this too, independently of the What then will the practical teacher do? He will great increase of happiness to himself, arising from study closely the characters of his pupils; he will form the manly exercise of all that is manly in him. The his opinion of their different temperaments and abili- laboring man cannot too soon learn, that if he secures ties, and so far as possible what has been their previ- for his children a good education, it will be far better ous instruction. If he finds a disrelish for study-a for them than well cultivated acres a good underdisposition to avoid it as far as possible, and an un-standing will be better than great riches The truth willingness even to listen to patient explanations, he does not attempt to remedy the evil simply by telling them what they ought and what they ought not to do, or by doling out to them a lecture on the importance and value of knowledge. These arguments are valid enough, but the evil to be remedied is not to be reached in this way; Arguments addressed to children must be nearer intuition than this. Duty must be made pleasant, or they will engage in it with little interest ought early to be impressed on the minds of the young, that all real excellence and manliness have their beginning in moral and intellectual education. It is this which makes the man; it is the natural unfolding and growth of man made in God's image; it fits him for usefulness, and lays an immovable foundation for the most enduring and refined pleasure. With such an education, he may become an ornament and a blessing to society; and then, whatever place he may occupy |