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Ogburn, Cole & Albright, EDITORS AND PBOPWETORS.. VOL. 1.1 1 Offieo oa Market Street, one door East of Al . bright' Hotel. It published every Tliursday, in Greens borough, North Carolina, OGBURN, COLE k ALBRIGHT. CORRESPONDING EDITORS Rorrht 0 Sr.irus, rorUmmith, V. ( W. R. Huntib (formerly of 8. C.) Hew fork CUy, TERMS (st.':'. -1 Copy one year...... ..... $ 2.00 6 Copies " ..... 10.00 10 ....i.........lo.OO ' Jfijr Jfo paper lent unions the1 money accom panies the order, nor will the paper be sent longer than paid for. (gil BgfSpeciuion copies gent gratia, on applica tion. , , . " - ADVERTISING. One equare (12 lines) fir9t insertion $1.00. Each additional week 25cts. The following am ple deiaetioas will be made in favor of standing Advertisement: . . JKOKTKS. 6MO!ITni. TEAR Onesnuare. $ 8.00 : $ 5.00 $ 8.00 Two scares, ." 10.00 14.00 Three " ,W 15.00 20.00 Half column, 18.M 25.00 85.00 I'rofeiMioaal and baainese Cards not exceeding six Use per annus. $5.00 roa THE T1KK. i The Salter's ChtlA, BT AKVA . BATI. Our eottage 'neath tie yew, mother. Why did we eome away, Vheo Summer broagbt her tinted wreath, To deek the green wood spray ; The bee was waadering 'mid the gold Our bright hmas flartg; Tbe weodbuM mnj a gleasy fold "Above ear lattice hang : And rea my sister's grave, other. Away beneath the tree I wonder K e'a lonely now ' STkco "va tntcuan t eee." - Oh, tell yonr ehild to-dy, mother, -- Shall we go back again. When Mar-blooms, from the orchard tree, Drop down like rosy rain I ' " I weary of this dusty room, . This stilled eity air -hall we go back to oar old home ' And and ny father there? Ah, vain, aweet ehtM, yoar longing words, cannot take yon back, .... to listen to the songs of birds Along the dear home tntefct A stranger has your mother's place Your father, where is h. . Alas! the wild waves leave no trace Of those who sink at aea.! Twaa years ago your father's ship Sailed from the pleasant shore, fihe said it with a trembling lip, I never saw him more ; Afar from home and me he died, lie sleeps 'neath ocean blue, Mary," a doar voice near her cried, -"God gives me back to you!" :1 They went to dwell in their old host, The bee was in the flowers, And every spell of joy and bloom Wreathed round the Summer hours ; Once more the child all gaily played 'Neath the accustomed tree. And thankfully its mother prayed To Ood who watched the sea ! roa TUB T1MKS. Te I ure In Heartv Man was createa pure in heart, stamped with the image of his Creator, and blessed with that great intellectual faculty, which bound htm both to earth and heaven. But, ince the curse of Eden, that primeval pu- "rity has been so-hiackencd Jj iy the i sting of vice and folly, that virtue is made to groan beneath the burden she so often bears; and if it were not for that principle, bom of God and approved of man, which-rcgene-rntos and purifies the heart aud life, happi ness would take its everlasting flight from our earth. How beautiful are the lessons we learn from the actions of tho good and pure, aud they are doubly beautiful, because they come to us so geutly and unconsciously. To all the world their influence is like the dew of heaven, slowly penetrating to the heart, then springing forth in great acts -and' loving deeds. Society owes not only its existence, but its improvement and strength, to the influ ence of pure-hearted, disinterested and no- ble-uiiddod men. It is truly said, that virtue is the cement that binds all society together. - v But tho influence of thepuro in heart is felt more in the home-circle, that sweet spot where kindred souls should be linked together, and angry words should never dare intrude. Fathor, mother, upon what does the saored happiness of your homes depend ? Is it the burnjug genius nd glowing talent of that son who has in In Devoted to News, Internal deed won a crown of applause, from the world, but scattered only its thorn in your midst ? Is it the brilliant beauty of that daughter, upon whom you gaze so fondly, as the admiring multitude gives to her its homage f smiling delight? Nay, nay; your own hearts answer, " it springs from those household treasures who have, al ways, smiles and gentle words to greet . . ..., you. Une pure loving nearcai me nome- stcad is better than gejiiu or talent, better than riches or honor, for it is a light, which sheds, its beams on all the little land, and makes for them a paradise of joys. To be pure in heart docs not require us to be perfect as angel, only perfect as mor tals. The first and list great lesson of life is to " keep the heart with all diligence :" keep it from contact with evil minds, keep it from contact with evd books, and above all, keep out of it. all those bad passions which belong to our own nature. Clear and sparkling water never flows from a polluted fountain. EULALIA. Going- to Cburcb In Old Times. It is well known to all descendants of re volutionary 'sires, that in early times in this country, the stealth and audacity of the savage aborigines rendered it necessary for our forefathers to go armed to the house of God. But it is noi-so gcnerally-knowa that to do so was actually the law of the land. In 1675, the Puritans published an edict that every one who went to meeting on Lord's-day should go armed, and pro vided with at least six charges ef powder and shot, under a penalty of two shillings for every omission. As if to mitigate the seeming scandalousness of the thing, it was further enacted that whosoever "shall shoot off any gun on any unnecessary oc casion, or at any game whatsoever, except at an Indian or a wolf, shall forfeit five shillings for every such shot, till farther liberty shall be gtven."j That they should have gone to church at 'all under such cir cutanecs ia worthy of remembrance, and calculated to rebuke the readiness with which we yield to any supposed obstacle which may lie itfthe way of our attending the worship of God upon the Sabbath. The picture of old men and matrons, young men, maidens, and. children, walking, or at best riding on horseback, through the woods and over the fields to the house of prayer, when ih ey knew that the path was full of dangers, and that any bush by the wayside might be the lurking-place of their deadly enemy, presents a suggestive con trast to the " softness and self-indulgence" which characterize American Christians now. , Yet in maintaining the public worship of God through such grave discourage- inents,our forefathers did nothing more than their duty ; and there is room for serious doubt whether, while we have lost nearly every vestige of the heroism of their piety, we have gained much in the matter of decorum. We hare reduced public wor ship to a science, arranging its routine into a rigid code of religious etiquette, discard ing the naked simplicity nd mere good sense of our ancestors. But how much more revolting ore guns than fiddles in the house of God ? and how much more inexo rable were Puritan statutes than" "modern fashions In their prescriptions of a Sunday outfit? . One thing let vis never forget : If our ancestors, without railroads, turnpikes, or pavmcntsr perse vcingly met- together to " praise and pray," no amount of niere religious sentiment will excuse us, with our superior advantages, from rendering a corresponding service to God. If, with all their heroism and industjtbey were bare ly saved, how shall we escape if we neg lect so great salvation iJJome Circle. From the N. C. Christian Advocate. . Dancing:. Tho time was, when Methodists bad too much reeurd for the teachings of the Bible, and too much respect for those who minis tered to theui in spiritual things, to "shuf fle the light fantastic toe." But times have changed." There are those in the church now who cannot see any harm in this tnnoee (!) aui1jiBieut. Verily, we are advancing backwards, ivow, i just, wish all such christians (?) to read what tho following heatlten writers say on the buVmpp t : Cicero, the creat Roman orator Lays, " No one dances, whether in private, or convival assemblies, unless ne.pe intox icated or a fool" The PaganB were so convinced of this, that to render the fol nf PhiliD of Macedon odious, it was enough for Dcmosthoncs to accuse them of having danced. Ovid, the poet, so volup tuous, and so regardless pf morality, stjiea Snippitiinif aitir Jifmiij SnitniKL Improvements, Education, Agriculture, Manufacture, Commerce and the Markets. GREENSBOROUGH. NORTH CAROLINA, dancing-houses, plaoes of h!p-ureck$ for modetty, and the dance itself the seed of vice. Boyle, the impious philosopher, who even professed to disbelieve the exis tence of a God, says, " the dance can only serve to spoil the heart, and wage a war dangerous to ehastity." This is what Pa gans say. .Shall they rise in judgment with this generation and condemn it ? Shall some member of the M. E. Church sink deeper in the pit of endless misery tnan some who cver eheld their duty under the light of Divine Revelation ? Shall those children who are aceompluh '(!) at dancing schools, be "swift wit nesses " against their parents at the bar of God? HYDE. Worth of Woman. Honored be woman 1 she beams on the sight, Graceful and fair as a being of light ; Scatters around hor, wherever she strays, Roses of bliss on our thorn-covered ways j Roses of paradise, sent from above, To be gathered and twined in a garland of love! Schilltr. WHICH WAS THE COWARD. ' " Will you bear that Edward ?" The young man to whom this was ad rcdlitolannnblherreon about' his own age, on whose flushed countenance was an expression of angry defiance.: The name of this person was Logan, A third party, also, a young man, had,1 asked the question in a tone of surprise and regret. Before there was a time' for response, Lo gan said sharply, and in a voice of sting ing contempt : . " You are a poor, mean coward, Edward Wilson 1 I repeat the words : and if there is a particle of manhood about you-- Logan paused for an instant, but quick ly added, ".You will resent the insult." -Why did ho-pause l His words -had aroused a feeling in the breast of Wilson that betrayed itself in his eyes. The word "coward,' in that instant of time, would have more fittingly applied to James Lo gan. But as quickly as the flash leaves the cloud, so quickly faded the indignant light from the eyes of Edward Wilson. What a fierce struggle agitated himibr a moment J - - " We have been fast friends. James,' said Wilson, calmly. " But, even if that were not so, I will not strike you." " You're afraid." " I will not deny it. I have always been afraid to do wrong." " Pah I Cant and hypocrisy !' said the other, contemptuously. , " You know me better than that, J. Lo gan ; aud I am sorry that, in your resent ment of an imagined wrong, you should so far forget what is just to my character as to charge upon me such -mean vices.,I reject the implied allegations as false. There was an honest indignation in the manner of Wilson that he did not attempt to repress. 'bo you call me a liar?" exclaimed Logan, in uncontrollable passion, draw ing back his hand, and making a motion as if he were about to stnkctlio other in the face. The eves of Wilson quailed not, nor was the smallest quiver of a muscle percepti ble. Froni some cause the purpose of Lo gan was not executed. Instead of giving a blow, he assailed , his antagonist with words ofdeeper" provoke an assault But Wilson was not to be driven from the citadel in which he had entrenched himself. . . " Tf T am a coward, well.' he saidrL would rather be a coward than lay a hand in violence on him I havos called my friend.' ' . At this moment light girlish laughter and the ringing of merry voices reached the ears of our excited young men, and their relations of antagonism at once chang ed. Logan walked away in the direction from which the voices came ; while the .other two remained where they had been standing. ' ." Why didn't you knock him down?' Said the companion" of Wilson. I Tho latter whose face was now very so ber and very pale, shook his head slowly) he made no otier response. ' " I believe vou are a coward !' exclaim ed the other, impatiently ; and turning off, he went in the direction taken by Logan The moment Wilson was alone he seat ed himself on the ground, concealed from the Dart whose voice had interrupted them, hv a laverock, and covering his face with his hands, continued motionless for several minutes, How much he suffered in that little space of tin we will not attempt to describe. The struggle with his indignant impulses had been very severe. He was no coward in heart. bat was right and humane he was ever ready to do, even at the risk to himslf of both physical and mental suffering. Clearly conscious was he of this. Yet the consciousness did not and could not protect his feelings from the unjust and stinging charge of cowardice so angrily brought against him. In spite of his better reason; he felt humiliated ; and there were moments when he regrett ed the forbearance that saved the insolent Logan from punishment. They were but moments of weakness ; in tho strength of a manly character he was quickly himself again. . . The occasion of, the misunderstanding is briefly told. WHson made one of a lit tle pleasure party fjxm a .neighboring vil lage, that was spending an afternoon in a shady retreat on thi banks of a mill steam. There were throe oj four'young men and a half dozen maiden ; and, as it happens on such occasions, some rivalries were excited among the fcrmer. These should only have added piquancy to the merry intercourse of all the parties ; and would have done so, had nbt tho impatient tern perament of Logan parried him a little be yond eood feeling and genorous-lo mcnt towards othe. Without due reflec tion, yet in no sarcastic spirit, Edward Wilson made remark on some act of Logan that irritated him exceedingly. An angry spot burned instantly on his check, and he replied with words of cutting insult ; so catting, that all present expected nothing less than a blow from Wilson as his an swer to the remark. And to deal a blow was hia first impulse. , But he restrained the impulse ; and it rqeuired more courage to do this than to have stricken the inso lent young man to the ground. A moment or. two Wilson struggled with himself, and then turned off and moved slowly away His flushed and then paling face, his quivering lips and unsteady eyes, left on the minds of all who witnessed the scene an impression somewnai uniavoraDie. Partaking of the indignant excitement of the moment, many, many of those present looked for the instant punishment of Lo gan for his unjustifiable insult. .When, therefore, they saw Wilson turn away without even a defiant answer, and heard the low, sneeringly uttered word "coward" from the lips of Logan, they felt that there was a craven spirit about the young man. A coward we instinctively despise ; and yet, how slow we are to elevate that higher moral courage which enables a man to brave unjust judgment rather than do what he thinks to be wrons. above the mere brute instinct which, in the moment of excitement, forgets all A physical conse quences. As Edward Wilson walked away from his companions, he felt that he was regar ded as a coward. This was for hnn a bit ter trial ; and the more so, because there ...... r .1 . jl was one in that little group or sianiea maidens for whose eencrous regard he would have sacrificed all but honor. It was, perhaps half an hour after this unpleasant' occurrence -that Logan,-whose heart sill burned with an unforgiving spir it, encountered Wilson under circuuistan ccs that left him free to repeat his iusult ing language, without disturbing the rest of the party, who were amusing themselves tfsottr distance; and - beyoiSd "thtrrangc of observation He did "not1 succeed in "ob turning a personal encounter,, as he ha.d, desired.' . ; Edward Wilson had been for some time sitting alone" with hia unhappy thoughts, when he was aroused by sudden cries of alarm, the torle of which told his heart too plainly that some imminent danger impended. Springing to his feet, he ran in the direction of the cries, and quickly saw the cause of excitement. Recent heavy rains had swollen the mountain stream, the turbid waters ot which were sweeping down with great velocity. Two young girls, who had been amusing themselves at some distance above, in a boat that was attached to the shore by a long rope, had, thro' some accident, got tho fastening loose, and were now gliding down, far out in the current, with a fearfully increasing speed, toward" the breast of a 'milldam, some hundreds of yards below, from whicfi the water was thundering down a height of over twenty feet. Pale with terror, the coor vounp: creatures were stretching out their hands towards their L companions o!f the shore, and uttering heart-rending cries for 6uccor. Tnxtjint action was nccessarvi or all THURSDAY, JUNE 5, 1856. would be lost. The position of the young girls had been discovered while they were yet some distanoe above, and there hap pening to be another boat on the muldam, and that nigh at hand, Logan and two oth er young men had loosed it from the shore. But, the danger of being earned over the dam, should any one venture out in this boat, seemed bo inevitable, that none of them dared to encounter the hazard. Now screaming and wringing their hands, and now urging these men to try and save their companions, stood the young maidens of the party, on the shore, when Wilson dashed through them, aud springing into the boat, cried ont ; " Quick Logan ! Take an oar, or all is lost" . -,v- But, instead of this, Logan stepped back a pace or two from the boat, while his face grew pale with fear. Not an instant more wae wasted. At a glance Wilson saw that if the girls were saved, it must be by the strength of his own arm. Bravely he pushed from he shore, and, with giant strength, born of the moment and for the occasion, from his high, unselfish purpose, he dashed the boat out into the current, and, bending to the oars, took a direction at an angle with the other boat, towards the point where the water ing overihedam. At. every stroke the light skiff sprung forward a dozen feet, and scarcely half a . minute elapsed ere Wilson was beside the other boat. Both were now within twenty yards of the fall ; and the water wjs bearing them down with a volocity that a strong rower, with every advantage on - his side, could scarcely have contended against suc cessfully.. To transfer the frightened girls from one boat to the other, in the few moments of time left ere the down-sweeping current would bear their frail vessel to the edge of the dam, and still to retain an advantage was, for Wilson, impossible. To let his own boat-go' and manage theirs he saw to be equally impossible. A cry of despair reached the young man's ears as the oars dropped from his grasp into the water. It-was evident to the spectators of the fearful scene that he had lost his presence of mind, and that now all was over. Not so, however. In the next moment he had sprung into the water, which, hear, the breast of the dam, was not three feet deep. As he did so he grasped the other boat, and bracing himself firmly against the rushing current, . held it poised a few yards from the point where the foam-crest ed waters leaped into the whirlpool below. At the same instant his boat shot dike an arrow over the dam. He had gained however, but a small -advantage. It re quired his utmost strength to keep the boat he had grasped from dragging him down thefall. Vjr- -- The quickly forme'd purpose of Wilson, in thus springing into the water, had been to drag the boat against the current to the shore. But this he perceived to be impos sible the moment he felt the real strength of the current. If he were to let the boat go he could easily save himself. But, not once did such a thought enter his own heart.-. " Lie down-close to the bottom,'' he said, in a quick hoarso voice. The terror-strick en girls obeyed the injunction instantly. And now, with a coolness that was won- 4derful under all the circumstances, Wil son -movedthe boat several -yards a way from the nearest shore, until he reached a point where he knew the water below the dam to be more expanded and free from rocks. Then throwing his body suddenly against the boat, and running along until ho was within a few feet of the fall, he sprang into it and passed over with it. A moment or two the light vessel, as it was shot out into the air, stood poised, and then went plunging down. The fearful leap was made in safety. The boat struck the seething waters below, and glanced out from the whirlpool, bear ing He living freight uninjured. ' Which was the coward ?'..". The words reached the ears of Logan, as he gather ed, with the rest of the company, around Wilson and tho pie, trembling girls he had so hcroioally saved. Fair lips asked the question. One maiden had spoken to another, and in a louder voice than she had intended. . . i 'Not Edward Wilson,' said Logan, as he stepped forward and grasped the hand of him he bad so wronged and insulted. 'Not Edward Wilson ! He is the noblest and the bravest!' ' Wilson made an effort to reply. But he was for some momenta too much excit- ed and exhausted to speak. At last he said t . ; I only did what was right May I ever have courage for that while I live. Afterwards be remarked, when alone with Logan f It required a far greater ex ercise of courage to forbear when you pro voked and insulted me in the presence of those wh expected retaliation, than it did to risk my lift at the mill-dam.' ' -- There-ia a nor heroism that few can appreciate. And it will usually be found that the morally brave man is quickest to lose the sense of personal danger when others are in peril. X 6ohihOJ Spools. From the American Journal of Education. MORAL EDUCATION. THE BEST METIIODS OF TEACHING MOR ALS IN COMMON SCHOOLS. BT BIV. CHAS. BROOKS, OF MEDFOBD, MASS. (Concluded.) My fourth and last method is this : to introduce voluntary ditcussion on moral topics. The head master should preside over, and direct them. Such discussions would incidentally teach children gram mar, the art of expression before numbers, the laws of fair debate, the principles of just criticism, the laws of order, &c; but, my planaaia usaJhcmiotieaching moral truth with exceeding distinctness and pow er. A book of debateablo questions, em bracing history, biography, goycrnment, domestic life, play, work, virtue, vice, &c, should be prepared with special reference to such a school exercise. If such a book does not exist, let the teacher give out such a question from his own mind as he knows to be fitted to his pupils ; such questions as the following : - y 1. Can a person be justified in tellings falsehood under any imaginable circum stances ? 2. Is every citizen morally bound to vote in the election of town, state, and national officers? f 3. Is every person, who owns property, morally bouid to have a written will and testament? 4. How far is a good brother or sister morally bound to help a bad brother or sis ter? - - All human life and human history would furnish the teacher with topics or sugges tions. Almost every newspaper might con tain records of demoniacal crime or godlike virtue, which could be made fertile in mor al jmpressions. Let the teacher give out his question, and kindly ask each pupil to express his opinion upon it. This exer cise, after a few trials, as I know from ex.. perience, geta to be very interesting to the pupils. Look at this matter closely. By this process a moral principle is brought palpably before each child's mind. A vote upon the question is to be taken at the end of the discussion ; and each vote is secret, written on a scrap of paper, with the voter's name attached. Is it not plain, that each young mind in that school will listen to the question, dwell upon it, turn it over, and turn it round, and try to see where the truth lies ? As different speakers give their opinions, the whole assembly waves with emotion, and thoughts are auggested to many minds which no common teaching could educe. Now, what is the effect of this exercise ? Is it not to bring soberly before each mind an important mora prin ciple, and then to apply that principle to actual life ? Each child knows, that he must write down his opinion in his vote ; and how certainly wjll this lead each one to give the best judgment he can form. Is not this direct and powerful moral teach iner in school?! This mode makes use of the whole school, to teach that school, Christian morality. By this exercise the ideas of right and wrong are entertained by each pupil, and then brought to decide upon moral differences. This exercise, therefore, converts each mind from the pas sive to the active state ; the only state in which a child learns. The young thoughts kindle as they dwell on the suspended ques tion. The whole soul begins to move, the curiosity is wide awake, the feelers are all out, the reason compares, the judgment weighs conscience decides, and open side is taken for the right. And I ask if this is not moral teaohini; ? How easy, how natural, how persuasive is such an agency; and how perfectly free from all sectarian prejudice ! Without suspecting the- philo sophy of the process, the child insensibly becomes imbued with spiritual ideas, mor al truths, practical rules, and Christian motives. Without knowing it, he is lifted up, in company with his classmates, into the higher regions of a divine life, and $2.00 Per Annum IN ADVANCE. '-. r NO. 23. that life becomes the futkionable fact of the school. Thus this exercise gradually brings out the divine image in the young and moulds them into a resemblance to the " holy child Jews, I am now prepared to stato a meet im portant fact. By this easy and delightful process of self-culture, the children have set up in the midst of their school a fm mon standard riyht ; common coit- . science j a school eomcince. By means of two-nek xvufc ha eaeh .week, the? have created, in their midst, an intellect ual moral umpire to whose eternal princi ples they bow. To this they refer when they make atee and moral distinctions, and when they measure moral wroagwith pre vsion. Thus the government of the school is carried on by the scholars. ' Is not this securing spiritual development ? How natural and practicable is this meth od ? But, I have One more which you may think better yet. It is this. To con vert the whole school into an amicable jury for the purpose of trying iinagjaable cases of disobedience in tho young; . Whenever a pupil commits an offense, let the master conceal hi Btuue and call him Justus, and then the whole sohool be ii ii .u-i J .1 caiiea w see iuav jubucu is uum w iuc un known offender. Let Justus have a chanoe- i j "v: e t 01 explaining ana viuuicuuug mniacu counsel.. Let him be dealt with according to the equitable rules of our com mon courts; so, that if he is Condemned he may know why. The master must be the final judge; and tba offender ia never to be punished in the presence of any one, except the- mas ter ho administers the chastisement. The -method of conducting such a moral lesson nay vary according to circumstances ; . sometimes only' a friendly consultation ; sometimes a silent vote after the master has explained all the facts. Another modo might be this in extreme cases. Let the teacher select three boys or girls who aro ... . T...'.. 3 let the school select throe who are to plead for him. Let the rest of the achool be ju- rors, who are to give their vote or verdict on paper, each one writing his name under- his verdict Let witnesses be summoned: and give in their testimonies, and let eve ry thing be done which will bring a just verdict. If difficult points come up, so 1. t. .1.- A V . ,' , mucn tne nener, jei.tue iuaii;r uyuiuut; . them. : In a trial of this kind, tkere will be ana intense interest awakened ia. every pupil's mind. Each one knows that - he has to . a .1 J write bis verdict; ana ne tnereiore is ex ceedingly desirous ' of understanding the ... ,. . . . .i ' . i caso. lie win listen w me evioence, ioi- low the pleadings on each side, weigh tho objections, balance the probabilities and feel his moral responsibleness. He wilt .1 iA Jn o t iu virrlif. mnA Mnoninlltf V UIV I- lit. Ma " . . desire not to do. wrong. "In such a" trial, how unconsciously would come up the prin ciples of equity, the rules of morality, the commands of parents, and the will of God. Opportunities would occur, during a year, of teaching every ethical principle, and scrutinizing every department of human conduct. .And be it noted also, that this teaching is in a form never to be forgotten. Hero is a great result; these trials wouiJ show what ? They would reveal the re- quirements of morality and furthermore rtveml tie direct applications) its eternat in ili mvtu i?av conduct eftifo. y, ...v ...i- s " -v;- During the whole trial, moral truth and christian law would occupy the minds and move the hearts of.the entire school. The ruleifof right and the maxims of virtue would not present themselves to the young minds there, as a theory or a guess, but as solemn, tangible, binding, Immortal and nrantinnlile rjrineiDlcs. Each child would ' -get to understand that the principles of.'. i i morality are omnipresent and almighty; that they are the rules of the divino gov ernment, and that tbey do not for a mo mcniJelax-their-benignsnt, all pervading requirements over the mind, any more than gravitution relaxes its power over the body. By such a trial each child comes to believe aud feel that morality binds every thought, will, and act, thus coouectiirg him with God and immortality, and thus briuging before him his future accountability.' Now where a school exercise thus brings togeth er moral principles and daily conduct, I ask if this is not- the exact defiuitiou . of teaching morals in common schools? If you curtail your expenses, clip at the right corners ; be sure yuu do nut bej;iii with tho newspaper. One ouiceloss of sugar a day will furnish a uewsp per in tho family. Starve yuur stomach sooner thau your braius. Yuu will not u.i the U"i. I as soiU us the pi:M-r. .
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