operation in this county nearly four years, and a session of one month has been held during each fall and spring. I had the pleasure of spending a short time at the Institute held at Keene, under the supervision of Mr. Phelps, of the Normal School at Albany, and was highly pleased with its appearance. The instruction was elementary and thorough, admirably adapted to qualify teachers for our district schools. More than one hundred instructors went forth from that month's drill to their winter's work, with increased ability, clearer views of the nature of education, and a stronger determination to render themselves eminently useful in the responsible duties of their profession. The Institute in a short time has wrought a very gratifying change in the schools of the county, and their present elevated character is more intimately connected with the Institute than any other instrumentality.

"Hillsborough County next introduced the Institute, which example has been followed by Strafford and Sullivan.

"Cheering results have crowned these sessions, and bright anticipations are entertained in respect to the future. Rockingham and Merrimac Counties have raised the funds, and propose to hold an Institute during the approaching autumn; and I entertain strong hopes that one will be held during the year in every county in the State."

A GENTLEMAN.

The following is from Bishop Doane's address at Burlington College:

"When you have found a man, you have not far to go to find a gentleman. You cannot make a gold ring out of brass. You cannot change a Cape May chrystal to a diamond. diamond. You cannot make a gentleman, till you have first a man. To be a gentleman, it will not be sufficient to have had a grandfather. To be a gentleman, does not depend upon the tailor or the toilet. Blood will degenerate. Good clothes are not good habits. The Prince LeBoo concluded that the hog, in England, was the only gentleman, as being the only thing that did not labor. A gentleman is just a gentle-man; no more, no less; a diamond polished, that was first a diamond in the rough. A gentleman is gentle. A gentleman is modest. A gentleman is courteous. A gentleman is generous. A gentleman is slow to take offence, as being one that never gives it. A gentleman is slow to sur

mise evil, as being one that never thinks it. A gentleman goes armed, only in consciousness of right.

A gentleman subjects his appetites. A gentleman refines his taste. A gentleman subdues his feelings. A gentleman controls his speech. A gentleman deems every other better than himself. Sir Philip Sidney was never so much a gentleman-mirror though he was of England's knighthood,— as when, upon the field of Zutphen, as he lay in his own blood, he waived the draught of cold spring water that was brought to quench his mortal thirst, in favor of a dying soldier. St. Paul described a gentleman when he exhorted the Philippian Christians, Whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report, if there be any virtue, if there be any praise, think on these things.' And Dr. Isaac Barrow, in his admirable sermon on The Calling of a Gentleman,' pointedly says, 'He should labor and study to be a leader unto virtue, and a notable promoter thereof; directing and exciting men thereto, by his exemplary conversation; encouraging them by his countenance and authority; rewarding the goodness of meaner people by his bounty and favor; he should be such a gentleman as Noah, who preached righteousness by his words and works, before a profane world.'"

LAMARTINE'S REMEMBRANCE OF HIS YOUTH.-My mother received from her mother on her death-bed, a handsome bible of Royaumont, in which she taught me to read when I was a little child. The bible had engravings of sacred subjects on its leaves. When I had read half a page of the holy history through tolerably well, my mother would uncover the picture, and holding the volume upon her knees, would allow me to contemplate it, as my reward. The silvery, affectionate, solemn, and impassionate tones of her voice, added to all she said an accent of force, of charm, and of love, which till this moment rings in my ears, alas! after six years of silence.

REMOVAL.

The MASSACHUSETTS TEACHER will hereafter be issued and published at 16 Devonshire Street, adjoining Exchange Coffee House. All letters and communications should be addressed to Damrell & Moore, Boston, and post paid.

TERMS-One Dollar per annum in advance, or One Dollar and Fifty Cents at the end of the year. Twenty-five per cent. allowed to agents who procure five subscribers, and all payments by them to be made in advance,

HOW SHALL A TEACHER KEEP HIMSELF YOUNG?

William Cobbett tells us of a peach-tree at Montreuil, in France, which, at the age of fifty years, was in full bearing, and capable of producing annually ten or twelve bushels of fruit. This great degree of vigor and longevity was effected by pruning away the barren and cumbrous parts, and growing new and fertile shoots in their stead. In fact, the whole secret consisted in keeping the tree constantly young. May not the teacher do something of an analogous kind, and keep himself constantly young and in a fruit-bearing condition?

True, there is much in the occupation of the teacher, which tends to make him of the Dominie Sampson order. After he becomes established in a school, his vocation seems to confine him to imparting the whole or a portion of what he knows, rather than to stimulate him to new acquisitions. He is apt to think that he already possesses a greater amount of knowledge than he can transplant into the minds of his pupils, and, therefore, that, if he endeavored to increase his stock, this accession would not materially augment his usefulness. He feels, perhaps, that fresh acquisitions might afford him personal gratification, but, at the same time, he despairs of the ability of his pupils to share in his own increase of knowledge.

The labor necessary to conduct a school faithfully and efficiently is arduous and wearing. The constant and unremitting exertion, the perplexity in which he is frequently placed, and his anxiety for the intellectual and moral improvement of his charge, so exhaust the energies of a teacher, that he seeks refreshment in apathy and seclusion, and thus endeavors to regain sufficient physical and mental vigor to enable him to

perform another routine of daily duties. The conviction that the labors of the schoolroom are quite as great as man can endure, forces itself upon the mind, without bringing with it any suggestion that the exhausting effects of these labors may be diminished, and that this diminution may be attended with even an increase of useful effect.

Confinement to the same class-books for a long series of years, has a tendency to diminish one's freshness, and weaken his interest in teaching. It is unfavorable to originality of thought, is likely to produce a listlessness, an aversion to any change, and an unwillingness to investigate the merits of anything new. This limitation is more a matter of necessity in some studies, than in others. Thus, in teaching the Latin and Greek languages, Virgil and Homer must be text-books for every pupil who makes any considerable progress in those languages; so that a man may be employed twenty, or even fifty years, in teaching the same books. If even "Homer sometimes nods," he who teaches him such a length of time, will be in great danger of occasional drowsiness. This will be less liable to occur in teaching subjects which are progressive, in which new discoveries and valuable improvements are constantly made, and on which many authors of eminent abilities have written, or those which change with the changing spirit of the age. Here is a greater choice of authors, a freer selection of topics, and a wider range for intellectual exertion.

Another circumstance which tends to stereotype a teacher, is his comparative seclusion from the rest of the adult world. During his school labors, he is confined to the society of children, his inferiors in power and knowledge; and out of school, he either seeks retirement, or associates too exclusively with those of his own calling. He is, indeed, in a great measure, removed from the temptations and bustle of other professions; but he is also debarred from the arena, in which the keen encounter of wits, the measuring of man with his fellow-man, the friction with his superiors, and the jostling with those a grade beneath him, give an impetus to dormant powers, elicit observation, and impel to vigorous exertion of one's energies. He feels less need of keeping his faculties burnished and ready for use, he knows less of passing events, and shares less in the spirit and great movements of his times,-than he would, if he mingled more with the great mass of his fellows.

Such are a few of the influences that diminish the freshness and youthful vigor, which are essential characteristics of the highest order of teachers. The remedy is, in the language of pomonology, to lop off the barren and cumbrous parts, and grow the greatest amount of new and fruit-bearing shoots.

It is a great mistake to suppose, because we know more than time, opportunity, and the capacity of our scholars will enable us to impart to them, that therefore our usefulness is not augmented by increasing our attainments. A former pupil of the writer, and now a merchant, lately remarked, that he learned nothing in school which he had not found useful and instrumental to success in his business. So it is with the teacher; every accession of knowledge will give him increased skill and facility in imparting to others. Not that a mass of knowledge hoarded in a man's mind, like the miser's treasure locked up in his strong-box, can be of any great use; but he who knows only one mode of communicating a truth,-who has but a single, invariable way of calling forth and exciting to action the energies of others, who has but one class of motives to present to the minds of youth, however diverse they may be in temperament, in native power, in attainments, and in their domestic circumstances, cannot ordinarily attain to the best and highest results. A teacher who has drawn his knowledge from a single source, or who has consulted only a very limited range of authors, must,-unless he possess much originality, a great variety of expedients, and a versatile power of invention,-fail of presenting knowledge in such a light, as to produce a vivid impression upon each of the great diversities of mind with which he has to deal. He needs the resources of many educators, and a comprehensive store of knowledge; these resources and this knowledge he must remould in his own mind, adapt them to his own wants and opportunities, and endeavor to make them productive of the greatest good in his own particular sphere of usefulness.

The labors of a faithful teacher must be arduous. This is one essential characteristic of his office. No one, who is not willing to labor perseveringly, and with his whole might, should ever desecrate the business of teaching. But the study of the human mind in all its phases, a willingness and a care to make due allowances for the imperfections of youth, order and system in conducting the school duties, equanimity and cheerfulness in one's own mind, and proper attention to health, will do much to lighten the burden, and lessen the debilitating effects of the teacher's toil. He must love children, and love his work. He must take pleasure in his earnest endeavors to do good, although the fruits may not immediately and fully answer his expectations. He must be delighted by the new acquisitions which his pupils make, rather than become disheartened by their actual or comparative ignorance. He must rejoice at the development of the true and the good in their characters, rather than be disgusted and discouraged by the manifestation.