.. 
FEB. 23. 
MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY NEWSPAPER. 
65 
Iblje f itucaiflT. 
PUBLIC INSTRUCTION IN' CANADA. 
We have received from the Department of 
Public Instruction of Upper Canada, the annual 
report of the Superintendent, E. Ryersox, Esq., 
for the year 1854. It is a pamphlet of two 
hundred and fifty pages, divided into two parts, 
as follows : 1st, the General Report, embracing 
copious tables of finance, attendance of pupils, 
text books and apparatus. Common Schools, 
Teachers, School Houses,Grammar Schools, for¬ 
mal Schools, other Educational Institutions, and 
Public Libraries; and secondly, an extensive 
system of statistical tables. 
It appears from the report, that there are in 
Upper Canada 1 NTormal School, 2 Model Schools 
(boys and girls) in connection with the Normal 
School, 64 County Grammar Schools, and 3,244 
Common Schools, besides the Provincial Uni¬ 
versity and nine Colleges, three of which are 
endowed with University powers. 
For the maintenance and support of these 
3,311 public schools, the following sums were 
expended by Upper Canada during 1854 : 
For salaries of Common Scliool Teachers.. .£151,756.10 2 
(i « Grammar School Masters, etc. 10,743.11 1 
“ building, rent, &c., of Com. Schools.. 28,352.16 11 
“ libraries, maps, apparatus, “ “ .. 15,040. 1 10 
« Normal and Model Schools. 3,403.17 0 
a Local Superintendents’ salaries, etc.,... 4,065. 0 0 
« Superannuated Com. School Teachers.. 1,476.7 6 
“ Poor Schools. 391. 5 0 
i: Universities, Colleges, Private Schools.. 31,575.8 0 
Or a grand total of nearly one million of dol¬ 
ing_being about one dollar for each inhabitant 
of Upper Canada. 
The attendance of pupils between the ages of 
5 and 21 years, at the Common and Grammar 
Schools was as follows : 
Boys at Common Schools.112,885 
Girls at Common Schools. 91,283 
Pupils at Grammar Schools. 4,287 
Total at Public Schools.208,455 
There is one child to every four inhabitants 
in the Province attending school, and yet there 
are 60,000 children who never attend at all. It 
is a gratifying fact, however, the Superintend¬ 
ent says, that the number of delinquents is 
nearly 20,000 less than in 1853. Notwithstand¬ 
ing this improvement, he deems it a matter 
worthy of consideration whether coercive mea¬ 
sures to compel attendance, would not be ad¬ 
vantageous to the interests of the community. 
There are 3,539 teachers reported in Upper 
Canada —2,508 male, and 1,031 female. The 
qualifications of these teachers are thus reported: 
652 first class ; including Provincial certificates. 
1,661 second class; an increase of 142 over 
1853. 1,180 third class ; a decrease of 181 com- 
aared with 1853. 46 not reported. 
The average annual salaries of the teachers, 
as reported, may be thus classified : 
Male teacher, with board.$172 
ii « without board. 316 
Female teacher, with board. 120 
« « '« without board. 193 
The ordinary annual salaries of male teachers, 
without board, particularly those trained at the 
Normal School, are : 
Those holding 1st Class Certificates from.. $400 to $600 
(i 2nd “ “ 300 to 400 
« 3 d « “ 250 to- 300 
And of female teachers, without board : 
Those holding 1st Class Certificates from. $300 to $400 
(( 2nd “ “ .. 250 to SCO 
« 3d “ “ .. 200 to 250 
Some of the male teachers in the cities and 
principal towns, however, get from $800 to $1,- 
200 per annum. 
We shall hereafter make further extracts 
from this interesting document, and we are 
gratified to be thus re-assured of a fact of which 
we were cognizant before, viz., that our Provin¬ 
cial neighbors are awake to the true interests 
and highest hopes of a free people. 
CLERICAL ANECDOTE. 
abiiath fjteittp. 
A MORE CONVENIENT SEASON. 
BY MRS. SIGOURXKY. 
PLYMOUTH CHURCH, BROOKLYN. 
'“Ix the Rural of Jan. 19th, we gave a view of' 
the exterior of this church, with some particu¬ 
lars of its construction and capacity. We now 
give, as promised, the interior, showing its usual 
large congregation, and copy from the Christian 
Intelligencer, (evide ,tly from the pen of no ar¬ 
dent admirer of the man,) a sketch of the 
pastor. Rev! Henry Ward Beecher, and his 
preaching: 
“One Sabbath evening, I found myself vol¬ 
untarily borne along by the current that disem¬ 
bogued itself into the Plymouth Church, of 
Brooklyn. Arrived here a little before the ser¬ 
vices opened, I found an assemblage before me I 
which can only be fittingly described by call¬ 
ing it a throng. Pews were packed full; so 
were the galleries, so were the benches running 
all along the aisles, so was each avenue in the 
interior, wit' the space before and around the 
pulpit, and around the doors, while numbers, 
peering in and seeing how hopeless was the 
prospect of even a commodious standing place, 
turned reluctantly and went away. The occa¬ 
sion was not an extraordinary one, nor the at¬ 
tendance on that particular evening unusual.— 
But, evening after evening, and from week to 
week, the same press is present, evincing that 
the preacher, who has kept his hold for several 
years upon the public interest, with no symp¬ 
toms as yet of relaxing it, whatever else may 
be said of him, is beyond question one of the 
most popular preachers of his times. 
After the customary preliminaries, he arose 
and announced his text. His appearance is no 
way striking or remarkable. He has not the 
stature that in less progressive times would 
have been thought essential to the heroic, 
« Robust, but not herculean ; to the sight 
No giant frame sets forth his common height.” 
He has not the Edward-Irvean, bold, strong¬ 
ly-marked, “ cast-iron features,” any more than 
his attitude, nor the mildly-beaming, half- 
seraphic spirituality of expression of Summer- 
field or McCheyne ; and anything about his 
'physique that would make him a marked man in 
a crowd, leading any casual passer-by to pause, 
look up, and look back, as the London coal- 
heavers did when that “walking cathedral,” 
Daniel Webster, passed, wondering “who goes 
there.” He is what the authoress of Uncle 
Tom’s Cabin said of herself, “ not much to look 
at,” and could easily pass among men anywhere 
without attracting the smallest observation. 
He has announced his text. His manner is 
quiet, unstrained, quite self-possessed, and ap¬ 
pears altogether unstudied and natural, as he 
opens the subject of discourse. His words flow 
easilv and without apparent effort, and well 
chosen words they are; aiyl well put together ; 
hitting his idea exactly and with force, with no 
unnecessary circumlocution or tiresome redun¬ 
dancy, leaving the impression that he has said 
just what he meant to say, neither less nor more. 
He has the heads, and some of thp filling up of 
his discourse before him, to which he refers 
more or less minutely ; and from the closely 
analytical character of what he puts forth, not 
less than the structure of his sentences, the in¬ 
ference might be safely drawn that there had 
been careful, if not elaborate, conning of the 
whole. His voice is full, round, and manly, 
distinct even in its lowest-toned utterances, 
and, when the sentiment demands it, plaintive, 
tender, and sometimes touching in its expres¬ 
sion ; while, from time to time, it pours itself 
forthwith startling impetuosity and compass; 
words being piled on words, like Pelion upon 
Ossa; no word being lost to the intently listen¬ 
ing ear ; and enforced with a beaming eye, and 
working countenance, and vehement gesticula¬ 
tion, from which all appearance of stiffness, 
which marked it slightly at the opening of the 
discourse, has now vanished. His speech is at 
times colloquial, at times that of different 
voices carrying on a dialogue. His illustrations, 
seeming to flow to his tongue spontaneously, 
from sources near and remote, obvious and re¬ 
condite, some of them beautiful, some quaint, 
some homely, and some even startling to a well 
poised taste, as bordering imminently on coarse¬ 
ness, but all of them striking, glowing, vivid as 
a sunbeam,—form one of the most strongly 
marked features of his discourse. Add to this 
an occasional mi. th-proYoking sally, a gleam of 
humor or wit, causing a smile or laugh to circle 
round the house, and which his charitable ad¬ 
mirers excuse on the ground of its being an un¬ 
conscious effervescence, an uncontrollable strug¬ 
gling to the light of an image or conceit that 
must be expressed,—and you have a rapid, 
rough sketch of Mr. Beecher, of a Sabbath eve¬ 
ning, radiating in the Plymouth Church.” 
Alone he wept. That very night 
The ambassador of God, with earnest zeal 
Of eloquence, had warned him to repent; 
And like the Homan at Drusilla’s side, 
Hearing the truth he trembled. Conscience wrought, 
Yet sin allured. The struggle shook him sore. 
The dim lamp waned ; the hour of midnight tolled ; 
Prayer sought for entrance, but the heart had closed 
Its diamond valve. He threw him on his couch 
And bade the spirit of his God depart. 
But there was war within him, and he sighed, 
“ Depart not utterly, thou Blessed Spirit! 
Return when youth is passed, and make my soul 
Forever thine.” 
With kindling brow he trod 
The haunts of pleasure, while the viol’s voice, 
And beauty’s smile, his joyous pulses woke. 
To love he knelt, and on his brow she hung 
Her freshest myrtle wreath. For gold he sought, 
And winged wealth indulged him, till the world 
Pronounced him happy. Manhood’s vigorous prime 
Swelled to its climax, and his busy days 
And restless nights swept like a tide away. 
Care struck deep root around him, and each shoot 
Still striking earthward like the Indian tree, 
Shut out with woven shades the eye of Heaven, 
When lo I a messenger from the Crucified — 
“ Look unto me and live.” Pausing he spake 
Of weariness and haste, and want of time, 
And duty to his children, and besought 
A longer space to do the work of Heaven. 
God spake again when age had shed its snow 
On his wan temples, and the palsied hand 
Shrank from gold gathering. But the rigid chain 
Of habit bound him, and he still implored 
“ A more convenient season.” 
“ See, my step 
Is firm and free ; my unquenched eye delights 
To view this pleasant world ; and life with me 
May last for many years. In the calm hour 
Of lingering sickness, I can better fit 
For vast eternity.” 
Disease approached. 
And reason fled. The maniac strove with death, 
And grappled like a fiend, with shrieks and cries, 
Till darkness smote the eyeballs, and thick ice 
Closed in around his heart strings. The poor clay 
Lay vanquished and distorted. But the soul — 
The soul whose promised season never came 
To hearken to his Maker’s call, had gone 
To weigh his sufferance with his own abuse, 
And bide the audit. 
THE AHT OF SILENCE. 
ARCTIC DISCOVERIES. 
Soox after I was settled in the ministry, I 
was appointed a member of tbe School Commit¬ 
tee of the place. In my frequent visits to one 
of the schools, I took notice of a boy whose 
clothing was very coarse, and showed many 
patches, but still was clean and neat through¬ 
out. His habits were remarkably quiet and 
orderly, and his manners very correct. His dis¬ 
position was evidently generous and kind, and 
his temper mild and cheerful, as he mingled 
■with his school mates at play, or joined their 
company on the road. 
When I last saw him in New England, lie was 
on his way to school. His appearance still be¬ 
spoke the condition of his poor and widowed 
mother; and his hat was but a poor protection 
against either sun or rain. But, as I passed 
him, he lifted it with an easy but respectful ac¬ 
tion, a pleasant smile, and a cheerful “good 
morning,” which, unconsciously to himself, made 
the noble boy a perfect model of genuine good 
manners. His bow, his smile, and his words, 
all came straight from his true, kind heart. 
When I last saw him, tv irty years had passed, 
and I was on a visit to the West. The boy had 
become a distinguished lawyer and statesman. 
But his bow, and his smile, and his kind greet¬ 
ing, were just the same as those of the barefoot 
boy with the poor hat. 
Study.— Euclid, the mathematician, being 
asked by a king if he could not explain his art 
to him in a compendious manner, replied, 
“There is no royal road to geometry.” Other 
things may be seized by might, or purchased 
with money ; but knowledge is to be gained 
only by study, and study to be prosecuted only 
in retirement.— Johnson. 
TnE frozen zone might furnish a chamber of 
the dead, larger and more densely thronged 
than that which is kept so faithfully by the 
monks of St. Bernard. The Northern Ocean 
has been more fatal to bold adventurers, than 
the torrid zone to the explorers of Central Afri¬ 
ca. In both, some of the noblest of our race 
have perished, victims to a love of science or a 
thirst for adventure. The' Evening Journal 
gives a brief synopsis of some of the disastrous 
voyages in search of the northwest passage. 
“ Three centuries and a half ago, Caspar Cor- 
tereal began the war by crossing the threshold 
of the frozen sea ; the ice laid hold of him, and 
held him fast in its remorseless grasp. In the 
following year, Miguel Cortereal pursued his 
missing brother s track, in the hope that he 
might discover the place of his captivity, but 
he too never returned. In 1553, Willoughby 
reached the shores of Nova Zembla; yeais af¬ 
terward the Russians found his ships frozen to 
the desolate coast of Lapland, and freighted 
with the lifeless bodies of their crews. In 1596 
Barenz lost two vessels, and left his bones in the 
inhospitable regions about Nova Zembla. In 
1610, Hudson penetrated the bay which beam 
his name, but never returned, his crew setting 
him adrift in an open boat, “ a sacrifice,” as one 
has it, “ to the offended spirit of the place.”— 
In 1610, Monk wintered upon the northern coast 
of Hudson Bay, and two only out of a crew of 
fifty-two came back. In 1610, Knight and Bar- 
low followed in the track of Monk, and never 
returned. Long after some of the fragments of 
their vessels were found on the rocks of Marble 
Island. Many others have perished singly, 
while their companions have escaped, in bat¬ 
tling with the wild elements in the Arctic cir¬ 
cle. And now the bones of Franklin and his 
men are rivaling in whiteness the snows by 
which they are surrounded.” 
GOOD FOR EVIL. 
EARTH-OIL WELLS IN BURMAH. 
High schools should be established in every 
city under the common school organization. 
Ax old man, of the name of Guyot, lived and 
died in the town of Marseilles in France. He 
amassed a large fortune by the most laborious 
industry, and the severest habits of abstinence 
and privation. His neighbors considered him 
a miser, and thought that he was hoarding up 
money from mean and avaricious motives.— 
The populace pursued him, wherever he ap¬ 
peared, with hootings and execrations ; and the 
boys sometimes threw stones at him. In his 
will were found the following words: 
“Having observed, from my infancy, that the 
poor of Marseilles are ill-supplied with water, 
which can only be purchased at a great price, I 
have cheerfully labored, the whole of my life.to 
procure for them this great blessing ; and 1 di¬ 
rect that the whole of my property shall be laid 
out in building an aqueduct for their use.” 
There is no royal road to knowledge. 
When I expressed a wish to see the earth-oil 
wells, before leaving that locality, the governor 
apologized for his inability to furnish a pony, 
but was kind enough to supply me at once with 
a guide. ' These petroleum wells of Burmah are 
somewhat celebrated throughout the scientific 
world. The oil is regarded as the product of 
the decomposition of organic or vegetable mat¬ 
ter beneath the surface of the earth, and in sit¬ 
uations where the conditions of contact with 
water and nearly total exclusion of atmospheric 
air are fulfilled. They are situated at a dis¬ 
tance of about two miles and a half, or a full 
half-hour’s walk, eastward from the village.— 
In proceeding to them, you tread along a very 
remarkable' portion of elevated country, of a 
dry, brown, barren aspect, intersected by fis¬ 
sures, or shallow ravines, running in every direc¬ 
tion. Two or three species of cactus appear to 
be indigenous to that region, the soil is hard 
and compact, and of an orange-brown color. A 
few huts for the workmen and their families, 
having a thorny enclosure surrounding them, 
stand in the vicinity of the wells. The natives 
said in general terms, that there were a great 
many of these wells, but they could not tell ex 
actly how many. At a random guess, one might 
state there were between two and three hun 
dred. These wells are not natural, but are dug 
by people, and the expense of digging is quite 
considerable. About eight or ten of them only 
were worked while I was present, the mouth 
of the well is a square of four feet, and from top 
to bottom they are lined with thick plank. As 
the rope passed out of one of the wells oi er a 
clumsy wheel with an earthern vessel full of oil 
attached to it, I measured it with my umbrella, 
to ascertain as nearly as possible the exact 
depth. The rope, which was only ot sufficient 
length to touch the bottom, was one hundred 
and ninety-seven cubits long. Towards the 
bottom, the size of the cavity diminishes; and 
the oil as it reposes in the well, presents the 
appearance of a mirror. The produce for twen 
ty-four hours, of a single well, which is worked 
throughout the day and night, is one hundred 
and fifty chatties, each cha’tie holding ten viss 
[Reducing the Burmese viss to our standard, the 
yield of twenty-four hours labor, at a single 
well, is 4,990 lbs ] 
On first reaching the surface, the oil is of a 
yellowish green color, thin and decidedly liquid, 
but after exposure to the air, it becomes thick 
and semi-solid, and assn mesa dark olive-brown 
color. It is carted off to the village in the 
vessels with which it is drawn up out of the 
ground. Through out the whole But man Em¬ 
pire it is used by the people for burning in 
their lamps at night. To preserve bamboo mats 
with which the walls of most houses are formed 
in this country, it i3 rubbed on them like paint. 
It is now becoming an article of export in large 
quantities from Rangoon, and is found to be ex¬ 
ceedingly serviceable in the preservation of 
sleepers on the railroad lines in Bengal and Eu¬ 
rope. 
In working these earth-oil or rock-oil wells, 
the same amount of manual labor is expended 
that was^required hundreds of years ago, when 
some of them were first qpened. Two persons 
pull the rope down an inclined plane, while one 
also assists at the mouth of the well, and at¬ 
tends to the changing of the chatties. With 
two or three small wheels properly arranged, 
the whole operation could be conducted by a 
lad eight or ten years old ; but as the mechanic 
arts among the Burmese are stereotyped, there 
is no hope, notwithstanding my suggestions to 
the workmen, of any immediate change taking 
place for their own relief. To students of chem¬ 
istry, these observations and facts relating to 
the earth-oil wells of Burmah, obtained by a 
visit to the locality where they are found, may 
prove to he not wholly unacceptable .—Letter of 
Dr. Dawson in Baptist Missionary Magazine. 
NECESSITY OF VENTILATION. 
In the admirable discourse of Dr. Joseph M. 
Smith, senior physician of tbe New York Hos¬ 
pital, delivered at the opening ot the new build¬ 
ing, he makes the following astonishing state¬ 
ments : 
The average amount exhaled from the lungs 
and skin of a healty adult, of ordinary size, in 
about twenty-four hours, is about 40 oz.; and of 
this quantity about 10 dwt. consist of animal 
matter. With these data, it is easy to calculate 
the amount of effete matter eliminated from the 
pulmonary and cutaneous surfaces in specified 
periods, by the number of inmates which this 
edifice is intended to accommodate. In making 
such a calculation, it is assumed that the amount 
emitted by the sick and healthy adult persons 
do not materially vary. If the number of 
patients in this building be 200, then the total 
amount of pulmonary and cutaneous exhalations 
will be in one day 666 lbs. 8 oz.; in thirty days, 
20,000 lbs.; and in one year, 243,334 lbs. 4 oz.; 
and the amount of animal or organic matter in 
these exhalations will be in one day 8 lbs. 4 oz.; 
in cne month, 250 lbs.; and in one year, 3,041 
lbs. 8 oz. 
A similar calculation made in relation to the 
500 patients which the three buildings on these 
grounds are designed to accommodate, will 
show a total amount in one day of 1,666 lbs. 8 oz.; 
in one month of 50,000 lbs.; and in one year of 
808,333 lbs. 4 oz.; and of animal matter in the 
first of these periods, 20 lbs. 10 oz.; in the 
second, 625 lbs.; and in the third, 7,604 lbs. 2 
oz. Such estimates enable us to judge of the 
degree of liability of disease originating in ill- 
ventilated or over-crowded human habitations. 
The art of silence, if it be not one of the fine, 
is certainly one of the useful arts. It is an art 
attained by few. How seldom do we meet with 
a man who speaks only when he ought to speak, 
and says only what he ought to say I 
That the Bible enjoins its attainment is most 
manifest. It commands us to make a door and 
a bar for the mouth. It declares that if a man 
bridleth not his tongue, his religion is vain. 
The attainment of this art will enable ns to 
avoid saying foolish things. We often speak 
without ^reflection, .and of consequence foolish 
thoughts, or expressions destitute of thought are 
uttered. Possessed of the aid of silence, we 
shall not speak that which ought not to be 
spoken. 
Again, it will enable us to avoid saying hurt¬ 
ful things. Since we are placed in the world 
to do good, and since the endowment of speech 
is one of our greatest means of influence, it is 
most unseemly for us to utter that which shall 
do injury. He whose business it is to root out 
the tares, should not scatter their seed. 
It will enable us to govern our feelings and 
direct our trains of thought. He who gives ex¬ 
pression to his feelings increases their strength. 
He who gives expression to anger, for example, 
increases its power over him. He who gives 
utterance to improper thoughts, will increase 
their number. 
It will increase our influence with our fellow 
men. “A fool uttereth all his mind, but a wise- 
man keepeth it until afterwards.” Gravity and 
reserve are associated with wisdom. Even an 
affected gravity is sometimes effective,—the true 
art of silence, ever. We can be useful only as 
we are influential. 
Finally, it will enable us to follow the exam¬ 
ple of Christ. He was ever affable and ready 
to communicate instruction, but no useless ut¬ 
terances escaped his lips. Let us labor to attain 
this art, that our speech may always be with 
grace.— Selected. 
CARRYING AWAY THE LAMBS. 
W hen the Shepherds of large flocks of sheep 
cannot succeed in separating the dams from the 
rest, because their young ones are among them, 
they will carry away the lambs in their arms 
to a better pasture, and then the dams willing¬ 
ly follow. Ah! “ the good Shepherd ” has 
often to adopt the same method ! To separate 
his chosen ones from the rest of the world, he is 
compelled to carry away the lambs of the hu¬ 
man flock in his warm bosom to heaven; and 
then bereaved parents gladly follow. The poet 
has drawn a very beautiful and touching simile 
from this well-known practice of pastoral life : 
A Shepherd long had sought in vain 
To call a wandering sheep : 
He strove to make its pathway plain 
Through dangers thick and deep. 
But yet the wanderer stood aloof. 
And still refused to come ; 
Xor would she ever hear reproof, 
Or turn to seek her home. 
At last the gentle Shepherd took 
ner little lambs from view! 
The mother gazed with anguished look — 
She turned — and followed too ! 
[ Selected. 
The Idea of God. —Wherever the religious 
element exists in human nature, the idea of God 
is a living fact. If atheism exists in such a 
slate, it exists not in the understanding, hut in 
the heart; not in a conviction, but a wish. 
’im./'WG'um'w’G'vw’u’GM.M.i'wm'Wii’GM.o./'w'im.i'wim.'VwMmif 
mm...... 
