3 it DOLLAR PER INVARIABLY IN ADVANCE.
* ■■ ■ ■■■■ -
Thursday Morning, July 11, 1860.
Stltcftl) |Mrn.
WE HAVE BEEN.
BY J. WELLINGTON WELCH.
We Dave been friends together
tint we are parted, HOW ;
1 know thou scoru'st me. for I mark
That scorn upon thy brow.
TUou'.-t thrust me rudely from thcc,
And oft in pain I sigh
We hare beta friends together,
We are not now—and why!
We have been friends together,
In happier moments past,
When all seemed bright and beautiful -
Alas too bright to last.
Those davg of joy and bliss have fled,
And thi< thought comes to die -
We hare ban friends together,
Perhaps no more to be.
We have been friends together
Through many a weary year ;
Together we have laughed in glee,
Together shed the tear.
Thv griefs and sorrows were mine own,
Mine were the same to thee,
\ were friends together,
BO more to be.
V, !• have been friends together ;
But ah, one little word.
Which, all unmeaningly. 1 spoke,
< iaiu.-t lue thim; ire has stirred ;
lit q all Contumely on my name ;
Aye ! scorn me if you will,
: Tis sweet to know we h-.re been Irieuds,
1 am thy true friend still.
■ We have been friends together,
I But we are doomed to part ;
No eve but God' can read the grief
Which rem! ' • .-t; i -ken heart.
Farewell! and, if in future years,
Thy heart bceomes tv-s cold,
Who ho. d thee so of old.
ill isttlhiuous.
ii THE WIFE'S EXPERIMENT.
"M:i, vliv tloti'l you ever dress up?" u-ked
■ little .V Hie Thornton, as her mother finished
■ brad.i:ig the child's hair, and tying her clean
I. , . There was a momentary surprise on
|M.. I'll i's face ; but she answered, care
-1
I P n't i'.i i 've to see you lord; pretty ?"
v-'v.",'. e'.Jd. The mother did not reply,
Hi;: jMuiii.Marily she glanced at her slovenly
the faded and worn calico dress and
H ,gv apr< i, both bearing witness to an inti-
Hkiak' acq i iintancc with the di.-hpau and stove
s.'ip-shod shoes, and soiled stockings—
H . -lie could not help rem e tube ring how she
lid appeared that morning with uncombed
I and prepared her husband's breakfast
[i. ire he left home for the neighboring tnar
[.. i"W. " Sure enough !" mused she, " how
i Jo look !" and then Memory pointed back a
I ,v wars to a neatly and tastefully-dressed
h.iiikn, sometimes busy in her father's house,
.win mingling with her young companions",
at never untidy in her appearance, always
!i and blooming ; and this she knew, full
i, was a picture of herself, when Charles
i.ion. ton first won her young heart. Such
II ••-us the bride lie had taken to his pleasant
! me,—how ha 1 mature life fulfilled the
; - of yutli '{
I;- w,; .-till comely in features, graceful in
few would call her a handsome or an
1.. 1 woman ; for, alas ! all other
haraoteristics were overshadowed by this re
; ve trait. Yet she loved to sec others
tf.at, ai.d her house and children did not seem
W' to her, so well kept and tidy did
'tii y w'.ways look. As a housekeeper she cx
° • Ati .ilier husband was long in acknowl
-1 11 :,;:n-clf the unwelcome fact that he
■ ! an incorrigible sloven.
I D ike too many young wives, she be-
Ik'R'. t > crow negligent in regard to her dress,
r- < :,'v excused her in his own mind, and
I' fdit " she is not well," or, "she has so
r' i'!i to do," an l perceiving no abatement in
~ kin'! attentions, she naturally concluded lie
: ; rl-etly satisfied. As her family cares ;
"Oa-' J, and she went less into company, she
' ■Tamo -till more careless of her personal ap
inee, and contented herself with seeing
it nothing was lacking which could contrib-'
husband and chil-
I I m ver - lppo-dng that so trivial a matter
JWII apparel E-mld possibly affect their
Ail this chain of circumstances
I unt - 'ts-ght of passed before her, as
Alle pratt]• r at lmr side repcateel the
Don't I'a love to see you look
,ett y v>
I , ' "'> my child," she answered, and her rc
■ Wls token, — she would try an experi
provc whether Mr. Thornton was
V '■ f i! 8 ere lit on the subject or not. Giv-
II " ,) ;c a picture-book with which to amuse
V she went to her own room, mentally
| O'UifJ, "at any rate, I'll never put ou this
I - -not even washing day." s>hc pro-
I her clothes press and removed one
i'.V-V ;er anot hcr, some were ragged, others
I I • , ar.d out of style, and some unfit to
J , r . al s'" 3 found one which had
' JOCa Did aside, as "too light to
r •• - out the house."' It was a nice Drench
I | 'se colored and white, aud she retneni
| , ' on '- e been a favorite with her bus-
I lie 0 ' adage " fashions come round
r ' years," seemed true in this case ; for
( ._y rcss was made in the then prevailing
lb Jt is Just thc thi "S" sllc t'looght, and
-v. ened to perform her toilette, saying
t " 3l - '■ " I must alter my dark giughatn to
" nu UJ s . a, 'd get it all ready before
!'- '. JU j cs . e -' Then she released her
t. " a a .' r ' rom its imprisonment in a
tw'stj and carefully brushing
THE BRADFORD REPORTER.
PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY AT TOWANDA, BRADFORD COUNTY, PA., BY E. O'MEARA GOODRICH.
its still glossy waves, she plaited it in the
broad braids which Ch'arles used so much to
admire in the days of her girlhood.
The unwonted task brought back many re
miniscences of those long vanished years, and
tears glistened in her eyes as she thought of.
the many changes time had wrought in those
she loved, but she murmured, " What hath
sadness like the change in ourselves we find ?"
Ia that hour she realized how an apparently
trivial fault had gained the mastery over her,
and imperceptibly had placed a barrier be
tween her and the one she loved on earth.—
True, he.never chidcd her, —never apparently
noticed her altered appearance,—but she well
knew he no longer urged her going into socie
ty, nor did lie seem to care about receiving his
friends at bis own bouse, although he was a
social man, and bad once felt proud to intro
duce his young wife to his large circle ot ac
quaintances.
Now, they seldom went out together, ex
cepting to church, and even dressing for that
was generally too much of an effort for Mrs.
Thornton, —she would stay at home " to keep
house," after preparing her little ones to ac
company their father, and the neighbors soon
ceased expecting her at public worship or in
their social gatherings—and so, one by one,
they neglected to call on her until but very
few of the number continued to exchange
triciidlv civilities with her. She had wonder
ed at this, and felt mortified and pained here
tofore ; now she clearly saw it was her own
i fault, the vail was removed from her eyes, aud
the mistake of her life was revealed iu its true
enormity. Sincerely did she repent of her
past error, calmly aud seriously resolved ou
| future and immediate amendment.
Meanwhile her huuds were not idle, and
at length the metamorphosis was complete.—
The bright pink drapery hung gracefully about
her form, imparting an unusual brilliancy to
her complexion,— her best wrought collar was
fastened with a costly brooch, her husband's
wedding gift, which had not seen the light for
many a day. Glancing once more at her inir
j ror, to be certain her toilette needed no more
finishing touches, she took her sewing, and re
j turning to the sitting room.
Little Nellie had wearied of her picture
book and was now playing with the kitten.—
As Mrs. Thornton entered she clapped her
hands in childish delight, exclaimed, "Oh,
M;i, how pretty—pretty !" and running to her
kissed her again and again, then drew her lit
tle chair close to her side, and eagerly watch*
' ed her as she plied the needle, repairing the
gingham dress.
Just before it was complete Nellie's broth
ers came from school, and pausing at the half
opened door, Willie whispered to Charlie,
" I guess we've got company, for mother'? all
dressed up." It was with mingled emotions of
plea-ure and pain that Mrs. Thornton observ
ed her children were unusually docile and obe
c'ient, hastening to perform their accustomed
duties without being even reminded of them.
Children are natural and unaffected lovers of
the beautiful, and their intuitive perceptions
will not often suffer from comparison with the
, opinions of mature worldly wisdom. It was
with a feeling of admiration that these chil
dren now looked upon their mother, aud seem
ed to consider it a privilege to do something
for her. It was " let me get the kindlings,"
—" I will make the fire," —aud " may I fill
the tea kettle ?" —instead of, as was sometimes
the case, " need 1 do it ?''—" I don't want
to," —" why can't Willie ?"
Nellie was too small to render much assist
ance, but she often turned from her frolic with
her kitten, to look at her mother, and utter
some childish remark expressive of jty aud
love.
At last the clock struck the hour when Mr.
Thornton was expected, and his wife proceed
ed to lay the tublc with unusual care, and to
place thereon several choice viunds of which
she knew he was particularly fond.
Meanwhile let us form the acquaintance of
the absent husband and father, whom we find
in the neighboring town, just completing his
duv's traffic. He is a line looking, middle
aired man, with an unmistakable twinkle of
kindly feeling in his eye, and the lines of good
humor plainly traced about bis mouth—we
know at a glance that lie is cheerful and indul
gent in his family, and are at once prepossess
ed in his favor.
As he is leaving the store, where he has
made his last purchase for the day, he is ac
costed in a familiar manner l>v a tall gentle
man just enteringthe door. He recognizes an
old friend, and exclaims, "George Morton is
it vou ?" The greeting is mutually cordial ;
they were friends in boyhood and early youth,
but since, Mr. Morton has been practising law
in a distant city, they have seldom met, and
this is no place to exchange their many cpies
tions and answers. Mr. Thornton's fine span
of horses and light 'democrat' arc standing
sear by, and it needs but little persuasion to
induce Mr. Morton to accompany his friend to
his home which he lias never yet visited. The
conversation is lively and spirited—they reeuii
the feats of their school days, and the exper
iences of after life, and compare their present
position in the world, with the golden future
of which they used to dream. Mr. Morton
is a bachelor, and very fastidious in his tastes
as that class of individuals are prone to be.
The recollection of this flashes on Mr. Thorn
ton's mind as they drive along towards their
destination. At once his zeal in the dialogue
abates, and he becomes thoughtful and silent,
and docs not urge his team onward, but seems
willing to afford Mr. Morton au opportunity
to admire the beautiful scenery on either haud
—the .hills and valleys clad in the fresh ver
dure of June, whiii the lofty mountain ranges
look blue and dim in the distance. He cannot
help wondering if they will liud his wife in
the same sorry predicament in which he left
her that muming, and involuntarily shrinks
from introducing so slatternly a persouage to
his refilled and cultivated friend. But it is
now too late to retract his polite invitation —
they are entering the old " homestead" —one
field more and his fertile farm, with its well
kept fences, appears in view. Yonder is his
seat white jjoose, surrounded with e.'ffs asd
" RFISARDLESS OF DENUNCIATION FROM ANY QUARTER."
maples. They drive through the large gate
way, the man John comes from the barn to pat
up the horses, and Mr. Thornton hurries up
the walk to the piazza, leaviug his friend to
lollow at his leisure—he must see his wife first,
and if possible hurry her out of sight before
their visitor enters. He rushes iuto the sit
ting room—words cannot express his amaze
ment—there sits the very image of his lovely
bride, and a self-conseious blush mantles her
cheek as he stoops to kiss her with words of
joyful surprise—" Why Kllen !" He has time
for no more, George Morton has followed him,
and he exclaims—" Ha ! Charley, as lover
like a ever—hasn't the honey-moon set yet ?"
and then he is duly presented to Mrs. Thorn
ton, who, under the pleasing excitement of the
occasion, appears to fur better advantage than
usual. Tea is soon upon the table, and the
gentlemen do ample justice to the tempting re
past spread before them. A happy meal it is
to Charles Thornton, who gazes with admir
ing fondness upon his still beautiful wife. —
Supper over, Mr. Morton coaxes little Nellie
to sit on bis lap, but she sooa slides down, and
climbing her father's knee, whispers confiden
tially, " Don't mamma look pretty " lie kiss
es her and answers, " Yes, my darling."
The evening passes pleasantly und swiftly
away, and many a half-forgotten smile of their
life-pilgrimage is re-called by some way-mark
which still gleams bright in the distance.—
They both feel younger and better for their
interview, and determine never to become so
like strangers again. Mr. Morton's soliloquy,
as lie retires to the cosy apartment appropri
ated to his use is, " Well, this is a happy fam
ily ! What a lucky fellow Charley is—such a
handsome wife und children—and she so good
a housekeeper, too ! Maybe I'll settle down
some day myself"—which pleasing idea that
night mingled with his visions.
The next morning Mr. Thornton watched
his wife's movemeuts with some anxiety—lie
could not bear to have her destroy the favora
ble impression which lie was certain she had
made on his friend's mind, and yet some irre
sistible impulse forbade bis offering any sug
gestion or alluding in any way to the delicate
subject so long uumentioned between thein
But Mrs. Thornton needed no friendly advice
with true womanly tact she perceived the
advantage she had gained, aud was not at all
inclined to relinquish it. The dark gingham
dress, linen collar and snowy apron formed
an appropriate and becoming morning attire
for a housekeeper ; and the table afforded the
guest no occasion for altering his opinion iu
regard to the skill or affability of bis amiable
hostess. Karly in the forenoon, Mr. Morton
took leave of his hospitable friends, being call
ed away by pressing affairs of business.
Mr. and Mrs. Thornton returned to their ac
customed avocations, but it was with renewed
energy, and new sense of quiet happiness, no
less deeply felt because unexpressed. A day
or two afterwards Mr. Thornton invited his
wife to accompany him to town, saying he
thought she might like to do some shopping ;
and she with no apparent surprise, but heart
felt [Measure, acceded to the proposal. The
; following Sabbath the village gossips had am
| pic food for their hungry eyes (to be digested
iat the next sewing society) in the appearance
of Mrs. Thornton at church clad in plain but
rich costume, an entire new outfit, which they
could not deny "made her look ten years
younger."
This was the beginning of the reform, and
it was the dawning of a brighter day for the
husband and wife of our story. True, habits
of such long standing are not conquered in a
week or a month ; and very often was Mrs.
Thornton tempted to yield to their long-toler
ated sway ; lint she fought valiantly against
their influence, aud in time she vanquished
them. An air of taste and elegance, before
unknown, now pervaded their dwelling, and
year after year the links of affection which
united them as a family grew brighter and
purer, even radiating thc holy light of a Chris
tian home.
But it was not until many years had passed
away, and our little Nellie, now a lovely
maiden, was about to resign her place as a pet
in her father's household, and assume a new
dignity in another's home, that her mother
imparted to her thc story of her own early
errors, aud earnestly warned her to beware of
that insiduous foe to domestic happiness—dis
regard of little things —and kissing her daugh
ter with maternal pride aud fondness she
thanked her for those simple, child like words,
which hail changed thc whole current of her
destiny—" Don't Da like to see yon, look pret
ty !" '
There is a sort of people who, through
some notion of their own superiority of wis
dom or authority, arc so in the habit of iden
tifying their opiuions and prejudices with tbe
decrees of Heaven, that they cannot but look
upon all who call them in question as wicked
- enemies of God and incendiaries in society.
They do not doubt that the Almighty thinks
precisely as they do ; and expect that their
views will bo received with the deference due
to an infallible relation. These people do not
combat opinions, they cry out against them ;
they do not respond to arguments, they ar
raign their authors ; they do not seek to con
vict ; aud look upon error not us a thiug to
be overcome, but to be puuisbed iu the person
of its believer.
EFFECTS OF CLEANLINESS. —Somebody has
said, " with what care and attention do thc
feathered race wash themselves, aud put their
plumago in order! And how perfectly neat,
clean aud elegant do they appear ! Amoug
the beasts of the field, we find that those
which are the most cleanly, and generally the
most gay and cheerful, are distinguished by a
certain air of contentment ; and singing birds
are always remarkable for the neatness of
their plumage. So great is tbe effect of clean
liness upon man, that it extends even to his
moral character. Virtue never dwelt long
with filth ; Dor do we believe there ever was
a person scrupulously attentive to cleanliness
wfco was a coosuKSPate villa:? "
Tlie Withered Heart.
I mingle with the gay crowd ; join the fasli
iouable circles of society ; engage in the merry
dance ; and they, (the world) think I ain
happy. When my laugh rings gaily through
the throng, some one will say, aside, " she is
happy sbo "knows not a care." Mistaken
world, you are but a poor judge of the human
heart, if you think that a smiling face, and a
merry laugh, constitute a happy one. There
was a day when I was happy ; but tbat day's
sun has long since set. There was a time when
my face might have been a fair index to my
heart; but that time has passed never to re
turn. There was a time when my heart beat
in warm response to another ; but that is over.
Hope has fled, but thc torch-light of memory
still burns brightly. I will not speak of the
blighted loves ; I will not tell of past joys—
enough to know they are gotie ; —enough to
know that my heart is slowly but surely with
ering away. Oh ! could you but open the
window of my heart, and see the parched up
fountain within ; could you draw aside the
curtain of my brain, and behold the scorching
fires which are slowly consuming my reason :
could you but know bow earnestly I long to
die methinks you could then see better through
the veil-like covering, which is but the shadow
of myself; and which is spread over my inner
being.
I wish even now that the grass was growing
over my grave, that the winds were sighing
my death requiem, and that my soul was happy
iu the laud where there are no blighted affec
tions.
But 1 must wait it ; will not be long a tmost
before I will be called away ;and theu oh,how
thankfully I will lay this weary head upon my
pillow, and crossing my bands over my heart
go to my rest.
Do not weep for me when you see me stretch
ed in the cold embrace of death. Do not
grieve that my days are numbered, only think
that lam at rest. And when you have kissed
my lips for the last time, and have taken your
last farewell ; close the little coffin-lid upon my
breast, bear me to some little shady nook, aud
lay me beneath the sod ; and when you have
smoothed the clods over me, leave the spot.
Do not [int anything to mark the place
where I lie ; but if any one should find mv
grave and ask who sleeps beneath, do not tell
them whose grave it is ; do not tell them the
sad tale of my young life ; tell them nothing,
save that it is ihe grave of one who died of a
withered heart.
TKH Kir. ST PRAYER IN COXCRFSS. —In
Thatcher's Military Journal, under the date of
December, 1777 is found a note contaiuing the
identical " first prayer in Congress," made by
the Ilev. Jacob Duehe, a gentleman of great
eloquence. Here it is—an historical curiosity:
"0, Lord, onr heavenly Father, high and
mislity King of kings, aud Lords of Lords,
who dost from thy tliroue behold all the dwel
lers of the earth, and reignest \yiih power sup
reme aud uncontrolled over all the kingdoms,
empires and governments ; look down in mercy
we beseech thee, these American States, who
have fled to thee from the rod of the oppressor
and thrown themselves on thy gracious pro
tection. desiring to be henceforth dependent
only on thee ; to thee tliey have appealed for
the righteousness of their cause ; to thee do
they now look up for that countenance and
support which thou alone canst give ; take
them, therefore, heavenly Father, under they
nurturing care ; give them wisdom iu council,
aud valor in the field ; defeat the malicious de
signs of our adversaries ; convince them of
ihe unrighteousness of their cause ; and if they
still persist in their sanguinary purposes, O !
let the voice of thine unerriug justice.soimding
in their hearts, constrain them to drop the
weapons of war from their unnerved hands in
the day of battle. le thou present, O, God
of wisdom, and direct the Councils of this hou
orable assembly ; enable them to settle things
on the best and surest foundation that the
scene of blood may be speedily closed, that
order, harmony and peace may be effectually
restored : and truth and justice, religion and
piety, prevail and flourish among thy people.
Preserve the health of their bodies and the
vigor of their minds ; —shower down on them
and the millions they here represent, such tem
poral blessings as thou seest expedient for
them in this world, and crown them with ever
lasting glory in the world to come. All this
we ask in the name and through the merits
of Jesus Christ, the Son our Savior. Amen !"
ALMOST HOME.—This is one of the most joy
ous expressions in the English language. The
heart of the long absent husbaud, father or
son, not only homeward bound, but almost
arrived, thrills with rapturpus joy as he is on
the point of receiving the embraces and greet
ing of the dear ones at home. So it is with
the aged Christian, as, in the far advance of
his pilgrimage, he feels that he approaches the
boundary line, and will soon cross over the
land of promise. Many of his best friends
have crossed over before him, and they have
long been beckoning liirn upward and onward.
They await his arrival with the joyful welcome
of holy ones. And as tokens multiply on either
hand the land of Beulah is near, he feels that
he is almost home. The ripe fruit of a long
Christian life is about to be gathered into a
heavenly garner. Few sights on earth are
more pleasing than aged, faithful Christians
strong in the Lord, almost home. We have
some such among us revered and beloved, whose
faces we love to see in the sanctuary, and
whose prayers bring down blessings npou our
heads. They speak of many friends, most of
whom have preceded them,but the re union will
soon come.. Blessings be upon the fathers aud
mothers in Zion ; and may their mantles fall
on us.
flgr Mr. Jones writes to a friend, and closes
by saying, " I am glad to be able to say that
my wife is recovering slowly."
agy In these degenerate days character is
weighed with a " cash balance."
durational department.
IteS-Tlie Pennsylvania State Teacher's As
sociation, will meet at Greensburg, Westmore
land county, on Tuesday the 7th of August.
We hope that several teachers from this part
of the State will make their arraugemeuts to
attend.
Greensburg Is in a pleasant section of the
State, and a trip over the mountains will well
pay the expeuse. We have assurances that
all the Railroads, in this section of the State,
will sell tickets for half price,—that is, those
who go, are to pay for tickets wheu they go
and the same tickets will be good for the re
turn. So those who wish to see that part of
the State will be enabled to go cheaper now
than at any subsequent time. There are to be
several lecturers of eminence present, among
the rest, Mr. YROMANS is to give bis celebrat
ed lecture on the " Philosophy of a Sunbeam."
This has been received with more favor per
haps than any other scientific lecture that has
ever been delivered iu this country.
Will the papers in the northern and eastern
portions of the State please to give notice of
this meeting.
As the Educational column was start
ed, and is to be sustained, for the benefit of
teachers, it shall be our object to make it both
interesting and useful to them, or rather, we
hope they will furnish us matter so that we
can present to theui, from week to week, a
readable column. We shall occasionally pub
lish problems iu intellectual and written arith
metic, and perhaps in Algebra, for solution, j
We will, too, now and then, give difficult
English sentences, for analysis and parsing.—
Perhaps we may also publish each week a
| short list of common words, which are fre
quently mispronounced, with the correct or
thoepy, according to Webster and Worcester.
Not that we pretend to be correct or critical
; orthoepists.but in order that we, as well as onr
i readers, may be improved in this respect. We
hope teachers aud others may keep us well
supplied with material for this department.—
If they have not Webster's or Worcester's
unabridged Dictionaries at hand, never mind,
we will look out the words. We sliali not
publish mathematical questions that are pre
sented just for the purpose of puzzling either
our readers or ourselves, when there is no
valuable principle involved. We do not pre
tend to be able to solve every problem that
can be found or made, and we have no time
to do it, if we conid, but our object is to pte
scnt useful instructive matter to the teachers,
rather than to ptizzic them with questions of
no real importance.
ey-
Graded Schools.
We copy the following from the 111. State
School Superintendent's Report for 1859 :
In all the departments of human industry,
whether physical, intellectual or moral, a sys
tematic division of labor, invariably yields
the most beneficial results.
It has come to be conceded by all experi
enced educationists throughout the country,
who have had an opportunity of forming a
correct judgment ou the subject, that in a
mixed or unclassified school, like thc common
schools of the country, the pupils do not, on an
average, perform over one-half the study, or
acquire half the learning which they are ca
pable of accomplishing and acquiring in prop
erly graded schools. In corroboration of this
fact, 1 need but appeal to the experience
of any one who has spent his school days in
a district school, aud who has since had au
opportunity of witnessing the advancement
now made by pupils in the graded schools of
the country. More is accomplished in one
year by the pupil of a properly classified and
graded school than is done as a general rule
by the attendant at the district or mixed
school in three ; aud with less labor on the
part of both teacher and pupil.
Once classified in a graded school, the pupil
has a double incentive to keep up with, or out
strip his classmates—the hope of being pro
moted to a higher class in case he excels, aud
the fear of being degraded by being assigned
to a lower one, provided he does not maintain
his standing. The most backward pupil is
thus urged on by a double stimulus to equal
the foremost, while the performance of the
latter is made the standard of excellence for
thc whole class. The teachers, too, are arous
ed to greater zeal and fidelity in the discharge
of their duties, since their skill and faithful
ness will be made apparent in the qualifications
of thc candidates whom they send to the high
er departments of the school ; aud the length
of time occupied iu preparing them for pro
motion.
A comparison of the merits of the graded
schools now in successful operation in most of
the leading cities of the State, with those
which formerly existed in those cities, under
the mixed or private school system, will fur
nish an overflowing argument in favor of the
former.
The graded school is not only an immense
ecouomizer in the time required to educate the
child to any given extent, but it is also a great
saver of money. Three teachers, in a school
properly graded, can furnish more instruction
to three hundred pupils in any given time,
than six teachers can to the same number in
mixed schools. The former would require one
house, and the latter six. The saving in ex
pense of teachers and school houses, by adopt
ing the graded system then, may be safely sta
ted at one hundred per cent.
The advantages of the graded system over
the independent district system, may be briefly
stated as follows, viz :
1. Decrease in the number and expense of
both school houses and teachers.
2. The introduction of a more systematic,
extended and thorough course of study ; as
well as a more uniform series of text books.
3 Increased facilities.for procuring a leading
teacher of experience and ability, to take the
genera! charge of the school, arrange classes,
cocdcct the general exercises, TO exercise a $a-
VOL. XXI. —IS O. G.
1 pervisory toutrol over the less experienced
teachers of the school, and to mauage cases
| of discipline.
i 4. Great facilities for dividing the school
. into suitable departments, and forming larger
classes, enabling the teacher to devote more
time to each class, to amplify and illustrate
more fully any subject under discussion than
| he could do if the classes were smaller and
; there were more to be heard.
6. Greater facility for classifying the school
iu respect to the age and attainments of the
scholars, and for adapting the discipline of
the school to the wants and capacities of all.
5. The greater opportunity afforded to
; teachers for that special preparation before
each lesson, resulting from the less number of
| subjects which he is required to teach, which
is indispensable to the highest success in the
school-room.
7. The enthusiasm created iu the minds of
the schools, not only during the recitation,but
also during the hours of study, by the thought
that they must soon appear in the presence of
so large a class, and measure themselves, in
tellectually, with them.
8. The incentives to greater diligence on
the part of the pupils from the influence ex
erted upon them by the prospect of promo
tion.
9. The economy of both time and labor on
the part of both teachers and' pupils. No one
who has witnessed the practical workings of
both systems wii! deny, that iu a well graded
school, a teacher can instruct sixty or seveuty
five pupils more easily and more efficiently
than twenty five or thirty in a mixed school.
II A P.D WORK. —AII classes of men complain
of " hard work. - ' The carpenter thinks that,
it is '' too bad '' that he is obliged to work so
hard for a living, while his neighbor the phy
sician can ride in his carriage to attend patient 3
or leisurely deal out medicines in h's office.
The physician thinks it hard work to he in
readiness to obey calls at all hours of the day
and night ; to travel in cold and heat, through
mud and stories, and not even be allowed one
hour in the twenty four which l.e can positive*
]y cali his own. He envies'his friend the car
penter, who, when the day's work is done, fan
return to his family and rest in-peace.
The blacksmith feels that a hard lot in life
has fallen to him, as he strikes the anvil
through the long day, while en the opposite
side of the street, his neighbor, the lawyer,
seems to be culled to the performance of no
harder work than writing at his table or the
reading of his law books. But the lawyer as
his glance falls uj.ou the blacksmith, thinks of
the years spent in study to Gt him for the pro
fession, of other years of strenuous mental ex
ertion and constant application to gain a rep
utation, of the still incessant toil necessary to
attain it—of his frequent unavoidable contacts
with most hardened villains, of the revolting
relations of crime he is compelled to hear, of
the hundreds of suffering, innocent victims,
who plead with him to succor them from power
ful oppressors, but whom he cannot aid. With
a sigh he turns away from the whistling, sing
ing, jolly-faced and brawny-armed blacksmith,
and feels it harder to work to hammer and
weld the iron and blow the bellows of the law
in such a manner as shall always keep the fires
of his reputation burning before the world.
So it is in the various branches of trade and
iu all professions. Each is apt to think his
neighbor's business light work compared to the
duties incumbent upon him to perform. But
it is not so. The merchant and* the mechanic
the clergyman and the farmer, have all work
to do, either meutal or physical, of equal im
portance to the general body politic, and re
quiring equal exertions. This grumbling about
hard work is of no benefit to us, but decided
ly foolish aud wicked.
We are made to work. God constituted us
with hones, sinews, strength, and in every way,
by mental and physical endowment, adapted
us for the performance of labor. Labor is
called worship ; and whether in the mental or
physical sphere of action, he who labors the
most perseveringly, the most unmurrauringly,
the most efficiently for the good of himself aud
welfare of his fellow-men, must he accounted
the most faithful and acceptable worshipper.
War PERSONS ARE BORN* DCMB. —" Doc
tor,-' said an old lady, the other day, to her
family physician, " kiu you tell me how it is
that some folks are born dumb
" Why, hem ; why certainly, uiadame ; it
is owing to the fact that they come into the
world without the power of speech"
" La, no," said the old lady, " now jist see
what it is to have a physical education. I've
asked tny old man raor'n a hundred times that
arc same thing, and all I could ever get out
of him was, " kase they is." Well, I'm glad
I asked you, for I never could a' died satisGed
without knowin' it."
WILI. PATENT FH ID LAMPS EXPLODE ?—A
peddler of patent fluid lamps called at the
house of Mrs. Peer, in Brooklyn, recently, fo
sell his lamp. His lamp, he said, couldn't ex
plode ; and to convince the family, he gave it
a violent shaking, when the lamp exploded,
injuring, one person, a child, fatally, and five
others more or less severely.
KaP" A boy was asked, one day, what made
him so dirty, and his reply was ; " I am made,
so they tell me, of the dust of the earth, aud
I reckon it's working out.
BOP* At a printers' festival, rcceutly, the
following toast wa3 offered :
" Women —Second only to the Press in the
dissemination of news."
8&* The rhyming of silly boys and girls,and
the whistling of the wind through a hollow
tree, are equally signal instances of " music
caused by emptiness."
B®* A Lawyer engaged in a case, torment
ed a witness so much with questions, that tbo
poor fellow at last ciied for water. " There,"
said tee -"fudge, " I thought you would pump
fcict! dry."