[Paper read before the State Teachers' Association, July 11, 1872.]

My subject to some may savor of verdancy. A picture comes before us of an uncultivated person presiding in a little fifteen by twenty building, over a community of barefooted urchins. Upon this person the city teacher looks down with a feeling akin to contempt; his patrons think he can work for less wages than their employes on the farm or in the factory; and, as they pay him but little, as a natural consequence, they esteem him but little; thinking, meanwhile, if he were half a man he would go to work where he would receive a man's wages. And perhaps one reason why the people do not visit the teacher in his workroom and see what he is doing is, because they think there is no danger that he will not earn all the money he will receive.

Now let us look at some of the facts in the case. In some country places the teachers have been able to procure certificates if they could do little more than read intelligently, write legibly, tell where Europe is and multiply one fraction by another. Next, we allow persons to teach whom we would not wish our children to imitate in scarcely any respect. Again, the school board often engages for the summer term the one who will stay in the schoolroom the required number of hours for the least money.

Here is a very good teacher who enters the schoolroom full of enthusiasm concerning the work of love before her, and she labors devotedly until obstacle after obstacle-such as lack of interest on the part of parents and children, lack of requisites in the school-room, and, whenever extra help is wanted in the field or garden, lack of scholarstakes all her courage away, and in truth she has but little to work with, had she ever so much courage. Now we come to an instructor who teaches arithmetic, geography, grammar and so on, very well, but

she thinks that is all that is necessary. They must not come to her with their troubles in play-time or in going to and from school, or to tell that things are not going on properly and decently while she is away. No, if they "tattle" to her they will feel the ferule. Next, we have a district that wants a good school, summer and winter, all the time; takes much pains to secure good teachers, and pays them liberally; but it sometimes happens that term after term the school is, or seems to be, a failure. The school board at last becomes discouraged, and thinks it makes but little difference whom they engage. But at last, we come to one who in deciding to teach has found her right place in the world. She realizes the importance of her mission, and is not only willing to work, but knows just how to go to work to economize time, labor and strength; and the parents and children soon feel her magnetic power, and labor heart and hand with her.

I have stated some of the facts, now what can we do to improve the country teachers and schools? I mention both teachers and schools, but the elevation of the former is inseparable from that of the latter. Our supply of liberally educated teachers will come very soon after the demand for them. If our state makes this demand in advance of her sister states (and why not? she already ranks high in the quality of her teachers and schools,) we shall call in the best talent from other states. And I do not think it will be an injury to the other states either, for they will rapidly bestir themselves, as some of the New England States are now doing, for fear of being left behind. And when this demand comes, these teachers will receive good wages, for the people will not want those who cannot command good salaries. And then our poor teachers who cannot or will not raise themselves to the required standard, will soon be left behind, never to trouble us more.

Did you ever know the people of any parish to be proud of or to appreciate a minister to whom they paid a mere pittance? And if that minister should think his people had hard work to raise even that pittance, and should offer to preach without remuneration, they would soon send him away and engage another at a good salary. We usually value things by what they cost us.

Now we come to the moral qualifications of the teacher which I consider of far more importance than the literary qualifications. We want the man and citizen first, then the scholar and the polish; we do not want the scholar and the polish without the man, for it only gives us an accomplished villain who is much more to be feared than an ignorant one. Recently, a lady was fined for giving a dishonest servant a certificate of good moral character; and ought we to be less careful in recommending teachers?

If all our homes were what they should be, perhaps it would not matter so much if the teacher was not an honorable man; but as it is, many of our children will stand but little chance of becoming upright citizens, if our teachers cannot help them by example as well as precept. I leave the details of the schoolroom, for with better teachers, teachers' associations, institutes, good superintendents, and the influential men of the state to sustain us, all the schools in the state can soon be made to work together.

In those districts where the labor of the children is needed in the field or garden at regularly recurring periods, the terms and vacations should be so arranged that the children can attend when the school is in session, and thus do away with the disheartening effect of frequent absence upon both teacher and pupil.

And now I would say to the country teachers, remember that it is not enough that your pupils are well instructed in the text books, and that your management and influence in the school-room are good, you must have a care over the children in play hours. And it is sometimes well to exert a little wholesome influence over them on their way to and from school. I do not mean that you are to follow them or flog them for misconduct when beyond your jurisdiction, but as a man and a citizen you can do great good when you put off the teacher. You need also to be acquainted with the children in their homes to understand their wants.

Give especial attention to those who, from any cause, are slighted by the other pupils. We usually care enough for the favored ones, but the boys who formed themselves into a bridge to convey their teacher across the great gulf which lay between him and Heaven were not his rich pupils, but the little friendless ones whom he had instructed without remuneration. But there were not quite boys enough to complete the bridge, for after he became prosperous, he had refused admittance to the poor boys. The boys extended themselves to their utmost, but still just a few were lacking. Terrorstricken, he awoke, for it was a dream. When this dream became a reality, the bridge was complete.

But another great trouble is, that we get discouraged. Sometimes we work months without an encouraging word or apparent good results; and we begin to wonder if we have not mistaken our calling. Probably some of us have, but I believe the most of us are troubled about this matter at times. Occasionally a ray of dazzling light falls on our pathway, illuminating the whole scene and we are vouchsafed a glimpse of glorious results.

With creak and slam, the door closed on the last pupil. The day's work was done. The teacher seemed to hear it sing

"Thus back and forth-thus to and fro,
Aimless and useless see me go!'

Once she had deemed that meed of fame
Might yet perchance surround her name,
As one who'd sought by light of truth
To guide the simple mind of youth.
But now she thought with aching heart,
How vain her toil, her skill and art;
And from her lips came murmuring low—
'Thus, useless, back and forth I go.'
Her proud head drooped with first despair,
While pitying sunbeams hovered near.

"Their brightness roused her soul at last,
Expelling thoughts of gloomy past,
And then a voice, sweet, clear and low
Sang-" Onward, upward, teacher, go."
The weary strife of tcil and pain
Shall yet be blessed-'tis not in vain.
The veil of darkness seemed to rise,

And future things to greet her eyes.

She saw a man with pen of fire,

Who seemed all nations to inspire,

And cried, while pen flew swift and light,
'Her love and pains taught me to write.'
She knew that rude and barefoot boy,
Who once had found his chiefest joy
In breaking every law and rule;
Who scouted books and hated school.
Then, while the vision faded slow,
Rang, 'Onward, upward, teacher, go.'

'Next rose a lofty hall of state,

Filled with the wise, the good and great,
Who gathered round an old man's chair,
A sage, with frosted beard and hair,
And asked him how his life had been
So pure and just-so free from sin.
'Through God 'tis due to teacher kind
Who told me first I had a mind;
Whose words and life with gentle sway
Taught me at length the better way.'
And then rang forth- Now do you see
Thy toil shall not all fruitless be.""

TAXES raised for purposes of education are like vapors, which rise only to descend again in fertilizing showers to bless and beautify the land.-Burke.

POOR JOE.-A TEMPERANCE STORY.

BY PEN.

CHAPTER IV.-CONCLUSION.

"We'll not return to that chapter just now, I have lost sight of my story and fear that friend Pen is getting impatient. I was speaking of Grogg's saloon-had I not had a special purpose, I would have turned round on the spot, so overpowering was the nauseous air of the room; but I meant to see more of 'Joe,' as everybody called him, so I sat down at one of the tables and called for cider. I soon discovered the teacher seated at another table engaged in playing a game of euchre with a few of the men. His usually sallow face was red with excitement, his bony hands shook nervously, and his thin features showed the curious contortions peculiar to all with whom gambling is a passion, not a pastime or business. Such men are always the best game for those who make fleecing a profession. The passionate gambler is by turns hopeful, angry, triumphant and desperate; he lacks the keenness of observation, the cool, deliberate ways of the experienced gamester who always succeeds in securing and mastering his prey. Poor Joe had no luck that evening-he never had, I was told, and he made blunder after blunder in his almost childish eagerness to force good luck to smile on him. But even in the midst of his troubles he never forgot that he was in the company of his noble patrons, and that he was playing a role for their amusement. His very exclamations were calculated to raise a laugh, and when he scratched his stubbly head in perplexity, rolled his eyes in anguish at an unexpected stroke of bad luck, or smote his breast in remorse at a card unwisely dealt, he did it with such inimitable drollery of mein and gestures that all were convulsed with laughter. The effect was heightened by his appearance, which was that of a vagabond. The blue coat looked threadbare, and like his pants and boots, was sadly in need of repair and a brush. His elbows protruded from the sleeves and his toes threatened to follow their example. His whole appearance was that of a strolling fiddler of the lowest order, one of those men who often figure in the papers as having died in an alley or on the sidewalk, or perhaps at a police station, on whose corpse the jury renders a verdict of 'died of privation,' or of liquor.' As I sat there watching the men and now and then exchanging a word with my neighbors, I could not help thinking how strange it was that these men, the majority of whom were fathers, could enjoy the sight of moral degradation in the teacher of their children; how they could laugh at the poor deluded fellow, and how they