it i I. - " TERMS PER n a war TO ;T0D IIIITCUIXSOW, Publisher . ' - - - i . , i i 2. .' '" " : i I t : : : - 1 '1 : SlL r'l Li f . , . . . " ' ' i 1 " p X - ; X ' 1 1 , ..'.''' '' ' ' I ' ' " m.iUnx irnnriiinr t xrnm n t s ttit7t ttt t t r- tt t ttt axj tt?p,sttip-vt Hrvv rnv . . . . VOLUME 5. TMKECTOR Y. ; 1 'I : i LIST OF POST OFFICES post Offices. gethel Station Cirolltown, : Chess Springs, fonemaugh, Wesson, Ebetisburg. fjUen Timber, GaUitz'm, jshnstown, -Loretto,' ITmeral Point, yunster, piattsvUle," Boseland, " :- St. Augustine, 5Clp Level, Soatnaa, Sua'merhill, Summit, Kilmore, Post Matters. Enoch Reese, Joseph Behe, Henry Nutter, A, Gr- Crooks, J. Houston, John Thompson, A sa II. Fiske J.M. Christy, . ffra Tile j, Jr., I.E. Chandler, M. Adles'oerger, E. Wissinger, A.. Durbin, Districts. .' Blacklick. Carroll. Chest. Taylor. Waahint'n. Ebensburg. White. Gallitzin. . Washt'n. Johnst'wn. Loretto. Conem'gh. Mnnster. Andrew J Ferral, Susq'han. O. W. Bowman, White. Stan. Wharton, Clearfield. George Berkey, Richland. B. M'Colg&n, Washt'n. B. F. Slick, Croyle. - William M'Connell Washt'n. Morris Keil, S'merhill. CHURCHES, MINISTERS, &C. Presbyterian-. D. TTakbisos, Pastor Preaching every Sabbath morning at 10 J "clock, and in the evening at 3 o'clock. Sab ':u C i,,ni nt 1 o'clock. A. M. Prayer meet- oaiu w t - r- Tlmrddav eveninir, at 7 irarer nieeiiui; - Y4ch Independent Ret Ll. R. Powell, Ptor. Preaching every Sabbath morning at 10 o'clock.' ad in. the evening at ,6 oclock. Sabbath School nt I o'clock, P. M. Prayer ecetinff on the first-Monday evening of each month J and uu every Tuesday, Thursday and Friday evening, excepting the first week in well month. .. CalvuiUtic .Vtho.litKzr. John Williams, rmtor. Preaching every Sabbath evening ai :and (J oclock. Sabbath School at V o clock, A M. Piaver meeting every Friday evening, t7,oV,ock.' Society every Tuesday evening t 7 o'clock. Disciples TIkx. W. Llovd, Pastor. Preach ineeverv Sabbath morning at 10 o'clock.. Particular UAptists'Ri:?. David Jbski.vs, rastor. Preaching every fabbnth evening at 3 o'clock. Sabbath School at at 1 o'clock, P. M. CatholieRzr. M. J. Mitchell. Pastor. f.rvices everr Sabbath morning at 1C o clock oI Vespers at 4 o'clock in the evening. EBEXSBCUG MAILS. MAILS ARRIVE. . Entern daily, at 11 f o'clock. A. M. Western, " t " 11 o clock, A. M. MAILS CLOSE. Eastern, daily, at 8 o'clock, P. A. Western, "at ' 8 o'clock, P. M. f"ThemailsfrotnButler,Indiana,Strongs lown, 4c, arrive on Thursday of each week, at S o'clock, P. M. , Leave Ebensburg oa Friday of each wetK, nt b A. M. W c K,The mails from Newman's Mills, Car tnlltown, tc, arrive on Monday, Wednesday and Fridav of each week, at 3 o'clock, P. M. Leave Kbensburg On Tuesdays, Thursdays tad Saturdays, at 7 o'clock, A. M. RAILROAD SCHEDULE - CRESSON STATION WtsWBalt. Express leaves at " Fast Line . . 44 n Phila. Express " Mail Train " 8.43 A 31 o.:o p M. 9.22 A. M. . 8.38 P. M. 8.38 P. M. 12.34 A. M. 6.58 A. M. 10.3'J A. M.- East Through Express I ast Line Fast Mail Throagh Accom. k WILMORE STATION. Vfst Bait. Expreb3 leaves at " Mail Train 4 tMtTlrough Express " 44 fast Mail ' - . . 9.0G A. M O.UJ P. 8.11 P. M A. M COUXTY OFFICERS. Judges cf Ike Courts President, Hon. Geo. Taylor, Huntingdon; Associates, George W Eaaley, Henry C Devine. . Prcthonotary Joseph M'Ponald. Register and Recorder James Griffin. . , SheriffJohn Buck. . , District Attorney. rhilip S. Noon. - County Commissioners Peter J. Little, Jno. Campbell, Edward Glass. Treasurer Thomas Callin. Poor. House Directors George M'OuIlough, George Delany, Irwin Rutledgc. Poor House Treasurer George C. K. Zahm. Awiitors William J. Williams, George C. Zahm, Francis Tierney. County Surveyor. Henry Scanlan. Coroner. -James Shannon. Mercantile Appraiser Patrick Donahoe. . Sup't. of Common Schools J. F. Condon. EBEXSBL'RG IIOR. OFFICERS. BOKOLGH AT LARGE. Justice of the Peace. David n. Roberts OMripcm Kinkead. ; Burgess James Myers. " School Directors Abel Llovd, Phil S. Noon. Joshua D. Parrish, Hugh Jones, E. J. Mills. Dvid J. Jones. , . EAST WARD. ' Constable Evan E. Evans. Tovn Council John J. Evans, Thomas J. "avis, John W. Roberts, John Thompson, D. J- Jones. inspectors William D. Davis, h. Rodgers. Judge of Election DaaltlJ . Davis. Assessor Lemuel Davis. - , v WKHT M'AkD. . Constable M. M. O'Neill. Town Council R. S. Uunn, Edward Glass, nn A. Blair, John D. Thomas, George W. V-'atma-u. - Inspector William Barnn. Jno. H. Evans Jvdg of Election Michael ifr,son. "r Georg Gurler. Jnff every Thursday evening y V A , thodist Episcopal Church-Kv J. S. Lkm m'x. Preacher in charge. Rev. J. Gkay, As iliUnt. Preaching every Sabbath, alternately tMOi o'clock in the morning, or 7 in tbe vj.,hhth School at 9 o'clock, A. M. Tliaclteray. The following exquisite poem, from the New York Round Table, is a noble tribute to the memory of the great departed : ' ' '' "adsum." i; ' deczmber 23-4, 18G3.' "And just as the last bell struck, a peculiar sweet smile shone over his face, and he lifted up h.is head a little and qnickly said 'Adsuin!' and fell back." The Kevccomes. : ' ; - The Angel came by night, (Such angels still come down!) " And like a winter cloud . . . Passed over London town; ' i ' Along its lonesome streets, Where want had ceased to weep. Until it reached a house Where a great man lay asleep; The man of all his time Who knew the most of men; . The soundest head and heart, f The sharpest, kindest pen. , :' It paused beside his bed, . And whispered in his ear; He never turned his head, ' ' ; But answered, "I am here." Into tlie night they went, '; . At morning, side by side, Thej' gained the sacred Tlace Vhere the greatest dead abide ;. Where grand old Homer sits; In godlike state benign ; Where broods in endless thought The awful Florentine; Where sweet Cervantes walks, A smile on his grave face; . Where g03sips quaint Montaigne, The wisest of his race ; . ' -.Where Goethe looks through all, . With that calm eye of his ; Where little seen but Light ? Tbe only Sbakspeare is ! . , When the new Spirit came,: . ...- :. They asked him, drawing near, Art thou' become like us'?'' He answered, "I am here." ' R. N. STODDARD. A Gift by Hie Vaysldc. The old farm house clock iiad just struck severij and alJ over the hills the purple vapors of twilight were coming down, awaking spicy odors among the sweet fern in the pastures and the blue wild grapes ripening in the wood;?, while the whippor Mriil sang sadly on the mossy 'rails of the broken down fence that skirted the ravine, and the katydids chirped shrilly through the morning glory leaves above the win dows. - - "Seven o'clock,", echoed Silas Miller, just as. though he had been watching tlju slowly creeping minute hand for the last half hour, "lie will soon be here now my boy will soon be here I" What a strange softening of the rugged features, what an unwonted quivering of the harsh voice there was, when he nttered the two simple words, "my boy. " les, it was his boy, who was coming back from the ?moke" of haltle fields. No wonder that the thought sent a thrill through his iron natttre.. His soldier his hero ! ' "Surely I ought to hear the stage horn," he 'said, feverishly pacing up and down the harrow path, : where the maple leaves lay like a carpet' of pale gold. 'Listen, Sybil. Dun't you hear if " "It is too early yet, father." The light figure came stealing out to his side, and both together leaned over the garden- gate, gazing into the opal loom of twilight with wistful, seai-ching jraze. She was not prettier than many another New England girl, yet there was a delicate tvpe of beauty in her face and form that belongs as much to the frozen north as its pine forests and cliffs of eternal snow. lale brown hair, with aureate lights crossing its surface at lines, eyes like the blue larkspur, and lips that had stolen the dewy crimson of the wild rose; in pearls and blue crape, Sybil Miller would have been a beauty in her dress of gray ging ham she was something, far better and nobler. Suddenly the old man started and uttered an indistinct, glad cry. "It is he, Sybil. l)on'tyou see, beyond the elder bushes ? Child, don't hold mc back, but let me go and meet my boy." 4,No, father, you are mistaken it is hot Laurence. Laurence is shorter by nearly half a head, and that is not his quick, buoyant step." - - "You are right, Sybil," said Silas Mil ler, almost petulantly. "Why do. these vagrant soldiers go wandering by, giving honest folk3 a start?" . , ; "I suppose he did not know, we were watchiDg for Laurence," said Sybil, half sailing in the dusk.' . ' "It was only this morning that a beggar, disgracing lt won't gay wearing the United States linifor'm, came by, and bad the audacity to a?k me for money'- . : i"Did you give him something "Give him something?" repeated Silas, angrily would have seen him starve first!; I have no patience- with these strolling beggars. ? Here is another speci men of the kind, I suppose. No, my man,' you need not trou"ble,Tourself- to recite your pitiful story !" - For thp tall figure, with a halting step, and coat thickly powdered with dust, had paused 'in front of the -gate, and 'Sybil could just distinguish his dark, piercing eyes, and a forehead traversed by a cress cent-shaped scar, apparently ne.wly healed. ''I have nothing for you," edid Silas,' quite sharply. "Yes, I know what you would say, but it is of no use.- If yott are deserving, the proper authorities will take care of you ; and if you are not, the county i ail is the best place for you.' Don't tell me about want. What have you done with your bounty money and your pay, if you are really what you pretend to be a soldier ?";.;, : , - Then, through the deepening "twilight, Sybil could see the scarlet flush rising in the scarred forehead. "Sir, you arc mistaken. I did not beg." "No j you would prefer to play the bully, I have no doubt. Hut-1 am net a proper subject for you; so go about your bu3ines3, my man." '. - ' J : - The soldier turned silently away with a step more halting, and a. head more de pressed, into the gathering dusk. "Father," whispered Sybil, reproachful ly, "had you forgotten that our Laurence, too, is a soldier?"- . - v - ' ' : "No," returned Silas, abruptly ; "I re-i membered it wcil, and it convinced me all the more that a-man, paid and pensioned like. our Laurence, has no need to beg on the public highways." ' . -w "Dut, father, h did not beg." 4 "Beciuse I would hot allow it, my child. I pay taxes for the'support of such as he and T declare I will do no more !" ' : a1, - lie spoke in the sharp; high-pitched accents of passion, and when he looked around again Sybil wa3 gone. ' Footsore and weary, the travel-worn pedestrian had sat himself 'down on a mossy boulder by the roadside, wfTen a quick, lighffootstep came up a little path leading from the back door of the farm houe, through the pasture field, and a slight figure bent over him. "Do not mind my father's words; he was anjrry and unreasonable," she said, hurriedly. "I have but little to give, but 1 want you to take it for the sake of my soldier brother." ' - ' '' - Before he could speak she had unfast ened from her neck a blue ribbon, with a tiny g"ld piece suspended from: it,' placed it in bis haud, and was q-lidini; awav across the field, like &omc little gray nun, in her sober-hued dress. lie rose up; as it to fjllow and overtake her,- but it waj too late, and as he bent lys head over the glittering token, something like a tear dropped upon its circlet of tiny stars. - "And now' tell us everything that has happened to you, Lnurenc-i. Oh ! Lau rence, when I awakened thi? morning it seemed like a dream that you1 had come back' to us alive and well' " !!-'! " . The'' bronzed faco ' of the handsome ycung soldier looked down sn)i!ing1y into the radiant face nestled against his shoul der, and a seriom shadow stole iufo' his eyes as he thought cf past dangers. ' "I can tell you, Sybil, that'it came very near once or twice, being nothing else but a dream.' I have had 'more hair-breadth escapes than you know of, little sister.: 'I believe I did not tell ycu; of that sharp skirmish along the Potomac, where I stood facing death, an ugly death, too, at the points of the rebel bayonets, when some brave fellow charged down on them and saved my life with : his ' own right hand." . . ' '; " v:;- " ;:' : "Who was it Laurence?" said old Silas, with trembling and dilated 1 eyes. "I would give' my best wheat field for 'a chance to grasp that right hand." ' "I don't knowI never camefcacross him' again. Probably ho 'was in somo other regiment;' All I know is that he had fiery black eyes, and an odd scar ou his forehead, shaped exactly like a Moor ish crescent." ' ' " 'I ""' ' ' ' "With a straight no3e, end : a : heavy black moustache ?" interrupted his sister. ' . "Exactly." ; " v ' ' : v ; "Father," '.paid Sybil, -turning with sparkling eyes and crimson cheek to where Silas Miller sat, -"the wandering soldier whom you turned rrom 'your dior last night was the man .'who Asaved; Lau rence's Hie" ! v ; ; I; ' " Silas iiro3e fronrhis chair and-took an nneasy walk across the room, .his iron features working strangely .T" T, "It can't be helped now," he said,T n a irebnulojis Vclce ;,"but it is the lastWdier I will ?vct Betid with empty, hands lVoui my dqot.' The man who saved our 'Lau-' fence's life ! ' Oh ! Sybil, if I had listened to' your words. ; .' ' ; ' ' 13ut she never spoke of the little' piece of gold. ' She fancied it mighteem like ostentation this shv fastidious litilo wild flower of the hills ' ;; ' ; ' " "''My Sybil going to be'' married among t to 'fine folks down in Boston. ' AVell, I. suppose I might have expected it, and yet it d.-es seem kind of hard," soliloquized Silas Miller,'dropping. the 'happy, timid letter in his lap, and looking out through dimmed spectacles upon the sunuy, bills. "I wander who it is. I should like to see (he man that 'is' going to - rnafry Sybil Miller ' ; ' . " V ."' '" " . ones iUiiicr, woum uave ueen a prouu C3n' could, he have beheld his : pretty daughter, on that same night in licr ; white evening dres5, with scarlet gerani ums' lighting up her brown hair and glowing on her bo3om;' No wonder that Captain Leslie's .lace brightened with grave, quiet pride as he looked down on his fair betrothed. . ' ' "Sit down here, dearest,, in this quiet little music room," he said, with caressing and loving authority. "I cannot share your sweet eyes and sweeter words with all the world any longer. I must have you all to myself for awhile.'! " She looked up', with , a blushing smile then down again. " Well V heasked. as if she had spoken, was wandering, Allen, about that sear on your forehead "What of it ?" ' "Why," it is such almost a half circle, a singular shape I never saw but one like it before." ! "Did youpt ? ' ; And where was that ?" 'A poor soldier passed our gate once with just such a scar on his forehead, and-- . - - . She paused, for Allen Leslie had quietly taken from soma inner receptacle in his eoat a tiny piece of gold, with a narrow xq ribbon pissrd through . it. lie held it smilingly up before her. ' '-Do you know' who gave this to me ?" "Gave it to you, Allen?" "To me, a footsore, weary wanderer, who had mised his way among your tan gled roads. You fancied me a , beggar, but it was not so. I had monev, friends and position ; yet I stood sorely in want of a . friend' just then, for my braiu was throbbing, my limbs weary, and my wounds scarcely healed. That foot-march cost me a weary . fever. Yet I do ' not regret it, for " lie took her han J tenderly into his, and added! ' . ; "For although I might have known that my Sybil was beautiful, yst, .had it not been for that blue-ribboned piece cf gold, I never should have known how very trood aud true she was." CIs a n ge i YJ'r o ugli t Isy i Ii e Wa r In "Cudio's Cave," a, war novel, by ?f. T. Trowbridge'," well known as contributor to the' Atlantic Monthly, we find the fol lowing beautiful paragraph : . :- : . ' 1 ' "How many a beloved 'godd-for-nothing' has gone from our streets and firesides, to reanpear far o2 in a vision of glorr ! TliQ school-fellows , know not tlirir comrade j the'mother knows not hex own son. The stripling, whose outgoing and inconiiri'r were eo fanmiar to us impulsive, 1 un loving, a little selfish, apt to' be cross when the supper was' not -ready,, apt' to come lite and make you cross,' when the supper was ready and waiting: who ever guessed what nobleness was in him ! His country called, auJ he rose up a patriot: The fatigue of inarches, the hardships. of camp and bivouac, the hard fare,' the injustice that must be submitted to, all the terrible trials of the body's' strength and, the soul's patient endurance thes? he bore with the superb buoy ancy of spirit wlych denotes the hero.' Who was it that 'caught up the colors, and rushed forward' with them 'into the thick of the battle, after ; the fifth man who attempted it had been shot down ? Not the village loafer, who used to go about the streets dressed so shabbily ? Yes, the same. " He fell covered with wounds and glory." . The rusty and seem ingly useless, instrument we saw hari$ so long idle on the walls 01 society, none dreamed tol)e a trumpet of sonorous note until the soul came and blew a blast. ' And; what, has become of that white-' gloved,' perfumed handsome' cousin' of your?, "devoted to his pleasures," weary even of those to whom life, with all its luxuries, ,'hnd become a' bore ? Hp fell in the trenches at Wagner. Ile tiad dis tinguished himself by his daring, his hardihood, his -fiery love of libcrtyr When' the nation's alarm belt, his man hood stood erect; he shook.' himself ; all his past frivolities were no more than dust to the manic of this young lion. The wr ha proved useful if only ip this, that it has developed. the latent heroism in pur.youug men, .and taught us what, is in humanity, in our fellows, in ourielvps.' Because it has called into action all this generosity and courage,1 if for uo other-cause, lot us forgive ! its cruelty: though the chair. of the beloved one lie vacant, the bed unslcpt in, r and tbe hand cold that penned the letters in : tht sacred ' drawer, ' which cannot even now be opened without grief." "Seeing tbe EJepljaut." Some years since, at one of "the Phila delphia theaters, a pageant wag in rehear sal in which it was necessary to- have an elephant; - No elephant was to be had. . j The "wild beasts were ail traveling, and the property man, stasrc director and ! manager almost contracted epilepsy when they' thought of it. ! Days passed In the hopeless task of trying to secure one ; but at Jast Yankee ingenuity triumphed, as indeed it always does, and an elephant was made to order, of wood, skins,. paint, and vainish. Thus far the matter was all very well ; but as yet they had -found no means to make said combination- traveh Here again the genius of the manager, the stage director and property man stuck out, and two "broths" were duly installed as legs. 'Ned C-i one-of the true and crenuine "b'hovs," held the station of fore-legs, and for several nights he played that heavy . part to the entire satisfaction of the managers and the delight of the audience. , ' ' . ' The part, however, was a very tedious one. as the elephant was obliged to be on the stage -about au hour, and Ned was rather tco fond of-the bottle to remain so long withyut "wetting his whistle,',' so he set his wits to work to find a way to carry a wee drop with him. -The eyes of the elephant being made of two porter bottles, with .the necks in, Ned . conceived the brilliant idea of. filling them with good stuff. This he, fully carried but; and elated "with success,- he- willingly '"under took to play fore-legs again. . Night came ou the theatre was dense ly . crowded with .the denizens ot the Quaker city the mu.sie was played in the. sweetest strains the curtain rose and the play" began. Ned and- the "hind-legs" marched upon the stage. . The elephant was greeted with round upon, round of applause. The decorations' and the trappings t were gorgeous. The elephant and the prince seated upon his back were londly cheered. ' - The play proceeded ; tho elephant was marched rouud and round upou thestae. The fore-legs got dry, withdrew one of tJic corks ana treatea tne nma icgs, anu then drank th health of the audience in a bumper of genuine chphant-eye whiskey, a brand, by the. way, till then unknown. On went the play, and on went Ned driuking. The conclusion march was to be made the signal was given, and fore legs staggered towards the front of the stage. The conductor pulled the ears of tho elephant to the right the fore-legs stacred to the loft. ; The foot-lights obstructed The way. and he raised his foot. and stepped plump into the orchestra! Down went the fore-legs on to the leader's fiddle ; over, of course, turned the ele phant,' sending the prince and hind-legs' into the middle of the pit. The mana gers stood horror-struck ; the prince and hind'legs lay confounded, the boxes in convulsions, the actors chokinpr with lauqhter. Poor Ned, casting one look, strange blending . of drunkenness, grief, and laughter, at the scene, fled hastily out of the theatre, closely followed by the leader with the wreck of his fiddle, per forming various .tut aud thrust motions in the air. The curtain dropped on a scene behind the scene-j. No more pageant no more fore legs but .everybody . held their sides. : Music, actors, pit, boxes, and gallery, rushed from the theatre shrieking between, every breath, "Have you seen ilte elephant?"- Hence the orgm ot this pop ular iuterrogatory.. ' . ; I ,": . ; , JKij'A young Englishman was "sworn in": to the. United States service at New Haven, a week or two tunce, who-was one of the famous 4SiIunjdj'ed" immortal ized, by Icunyson. : : r . ' . - .1 . An oid Grecian philosopher ad vised all men to-know themselves. This is advising a good' many to make very low anu disreputable acquaintances. i 3f The experience of many a life "What a fool I have been r ... iho expe rience of many a - wife "What a fool 1 have crot !" KuA iiious Jerscyiuan has willed 5500 to tho New Jersey Biblo Society for buyiDg spectaclos for '.-indigent old folks, that they may seo. to read, fitay Look your imfortun&s in the face, and reflect that it is better ta.be accused of a vice, being innocent, than acquitted of it, being guilty-'. r ' i- ' NIJJNIEERl: 2B: Educational Department. l..i commjumcaxipns luienaea jot luis column should hi addressed to 'The'AUejhahian." - .. - .. ClIARACTEU OF OUR TEXT-BOOKS. The other evening, we had occasion to pick up a little work entitled, "First Lei?-, sons in Enslish Composition. . . . by G.-1V. Quackenboss, A. M.V ; The -work; ha been lying - on " our table " for about two years," not attracting ;much' at'tehtlorr :aV'' we had out little occasion for using it. -The author claims that the book ia adap ted to the wants of childreu taking their; first ; lessons in composition.; Rules rOi "iven for "uurit v. uronrietv. - rirccis. i -1 j i r ion, clearness, strength, : harmony, t and; unity." . Justification for writing the- book, is based on the fact of its necessity;; That there is need for a good work oq thei, subject of Composition, wo, will freely; admit, but . that the one before us is. worthy of patronage, would be hard 'to acknowledge. - .. .' , , It seems to us that there ia scarcely a" rule given in this book that is . not viola-.' ted by its author. In almost, if not in, every, case where tliall or will should bos used, viau is substituted. On tiace HQ ' " 1 . I o is tho following : ."Avoid redundancy." On page 83,1 iu speaking pf the relattTe:. pronouns, the book reads : "that is used: indiscriminately, ii either case." On pager 109 is advocated the necessity of propri-. ety in the choice of words. On pagc.93, it reads "Alter the following sentences. , being careful to have them retain- the same meaning." How could .they, retain any other ?;. A gain, on page 107, "Da not use obsolete words or such as ora t alien into disuse." If this is not reduni dancy. with a vengeance, then we; greatly, mistake On page 115, near is used for. nearly.- The sentence is as follows: "P!ac. words and clauses as near, as possible tor the words to, ; which they relate." Oa page 121, in rules III and IV, the con-; junction or is used instead of, nor. Tha first of these rules reads : "Do not uaa the conjunction and too much, or. let it commence a sentence." This error is as pl-iin as the nose on a man's face, i lij looking at page 126, you may seej in Te- gard to parentheses, the . followiug lan Good writers of the present day, for tie most part, , avoid them, alto gether." A school-boy should bo ashamed of such a blundering use of language. In the preface to this work, the author speaks of "the important branch of , compo sition.". Pray, is there both an important, andan unimportant branch of composition?, Further 90, this wonderful teacher speaks, of ; - pupil's ability "to analyze com-r pound sealenccs into simple )nes..'; , We thought the age of miracles haJ past. Again, the pupil is told to prepare, him telf to answer the questions in tach lesson before "he proceeds to tho exercise." A; smart pupil who can perform such a task 1 Such a book is not fit to be put in tho hands of any child. . But it :s one of a class. Some of our school histories aro very little better. Certainly adman's self esteem must be uulimitcd to place books, before the public when blunders can b. counted on almost every page. . . . : , 4. , . ' - - ' 7 ' . : '. , ' - i n CSjrhere is ., something peculiarly beautiful aud soothing in the manner, ia which the silent processes of the' ruind are brought into action wheu . we are reading attentively,, .We must of neces sity derive some benefit. .What can:bo more beneficial than improving the vigor and sensibilities of the mind, expanding the reasoning faculties, strcngthcuinjr tho judgment, facilitating the o - ri 0 ..v, uLMiaubo ui. ideas? Are these benefits more easily . ,.,.. attained than by a careful course of srood reading? ,, , In books, as well as, with men, we may confer with genius aud learning. But books havo an advantago over men, in that they enable one to contemplate at' leisure the finished productions ol maturo reflection, whilst many of us aie not $ni dowd with a memory sufficiently capable, of retaining the exact words of the speak er. Moreover, a person is seldoW enabled' to speak at once s much to the pufpts as he would write alter consideration. V" v
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers