its head; but it sank lower and lower, until, in | anywhere, he went in search of her, and found a moment, sun and covering disappeared in her comfortably seated behind a cloud, chatting the darkness. with a planet as if she had nothing at all to do, and the whole illuminating system did not concern her. Gerald soon followed the example of the sun and went to bed; but before he turned toward the wall to go to sleep, he looked out of the window to see whether the fountain was still splashing so merrily. Just as he gazed, the moon rose from behind the opposite mountain, and poured a silver ghostly light over the water, so that each spray assumed a different form as the moon-beam shifted hither and thither; looking one moment like a pillar of clear crystal, the next like a water-nymph covered with a long transparent veil. But then it seemed to Gerald that the jet of water was growing thinner, and the air was growing colder, for he huddled himself together, and was glad to be in his comfortable bed. He turned around ready to go to sleep, and the "amen" that finished his prayer sounded more like a snore than anything else. The fountain splashed on as gay as ever, for it thought that the moon, which stood so large and round in the sky, would shed its warm rays downward, just as the sun had done. But we know that is not so, for when the moon shines clear and bright in winter, the night constantly grows colder. A long, long time ago, the moon did its share in giving light and also heat to the earth, just like the sun; but it did not continue long, because the moon grew careless and neglected to do her duty. God had created the sun to shine by day, and the moon for the night, with the command that they should perform their own work and not get into each other's way. | The sun has always done his work well; nothing could be brought up against him, although he does sleep a few hours longer in winter; we can't blame him for that, because we all like to do the same. But the moon has been a worthless lass from the beginning. She hasn't even yet got into the habit of being punctual. She would make her appearance at any and all unseasonable hours, sometimes even in the afternoon, and give for an excuse that she wanted to help the sun; knowing all the time that it was unnecessary. But the real cause was she had overslept herself, which happened so frequently that she would be ashamed, and stay away altogether for a few nights at a time. This was going a little too far; and one night when the Nestor of Lights was looking through his sky and could not find the moon When she was pulled away by her ears and scolded for her carelessness, she even began to be saucy, and said: "The Lord has sent a comet with an endless tail to illumine the sky, and you have no need of me." Any one could see that she was envious, and that too without cause, for, although the comet had a splendid tail, it could not be compared to the beautiful silver light of the moon. Hardly had the moon finished her impertinent little speech, when she received a stunning blow. In a moment, her whole face was disfigured; for, instead of being round, it became long, hooked, and crooked. With this distorted face, she was obliged to appear in the heavens. But now she was not allowed to carry any fire, consequently her beams are cold as ice, for it would not be safe to trust her now with any small amount of heat, as in her careless way she might ignite the whole beautiful world. While she stood disconsolate, with her badly disfigured countenance, ruefully looking around, all the stars began to laugh with one accord. This made her feel very miserable and ashamed, so she begged, day after day, to have at least her round, bright face restored. At last her pleadings prevailed, and her face increased a little more each day. But as soon as she had attained her former shape again, she began to take it easy. Her light grew less and less every night, and one evening, as she was taking a walk on the "milky way," she slipped and fell, and her light was extinguished altogether. In short, the moon is not to be trusted. And if it were not for the sake of the sentimental, sighing people of the earth, she would have been thrown away as bad cheese long since. So we see that the poor fountain was mistaken about the moon. It jumped and danced in the moon-beams, hoping to get warm, and at last felt so cold that it spoke to Gerald to take it into his warm bed with him. But the boy thought, "Does it think I would be fool enough to take such a cold, wet thing into my bed?" He only shook his head and chattered his teeth at the thought. The fountain could not be shaken off so easily, for such a bed was a temptation. It begged and begged, and promised to tell a beautiful story. Gerald answered, "Tell your story out there, for you may get warm talking;" and as no excuse was left, it began: "Very, very far from here, beyond the mountains, is a beautiful little meadow, situated between large masses of gray rock. It is always covered with high grass; and forget me-nots, violets, phlox and other flowers grow there in abundance. At the end of the meadow was an opening in the rock; down this opening, far down, thousands of feet under the grass, was my cradle. O, how beautiful it was there! Not cold in winter, and not too warm in summer. Though the sun did not shine there, the walls glittered with silver and lead; my bed was made of clear crystal, and my wash-basin of amethyst. At night, the mountain ghosts and dwarfs used to visit us; they brought golden beads and flowers for me to play with; and when I was tired of them, an old toad would come and tell me stories. Events that have been talked about since the last five hundred years. "Very often I would long to see the upper world, and once I expressed this wish to the toad. She answered, 'It is very beautiful on the earth; but everybody cannot endure the sun's rays. I am afraid you will regret your visit when it is too late; you can easily get there, but you can never return again.' "But I thought I had lived long enough within the earth; and if the toad would visit me once in a while, as she promised to do, I would get along very well. Not long after this, I heard a rustling and shuffling above me; and a voice said: 'Here is a wet toad; the well cannot be far from here; bore deeper, we must find the water here.' "The noises continually became more distinct, and then a cold iron penetrated through my body. It hurts to-day when I think of it. But the iron disappeared almost immediately, and in place of it I felt warm air and light from above. Then I could not contain myself any longer, but jumped up in spite of myself. At length my wish was fulfilled. I was on the earth, and could gaze about to my heart's con tent. “But I did not travel far. The people who had intended to catch me had already dug out a large place in the ground, and I was obliged to go in there much against my will. "I saw the beautiful birds and flowers, that I had so longed to play with, only at a distance. I consoled myself with the thought that in time I would grow, and then I could easily jump over the edge of the well. Just then I saw the old toad jump past. I called to it to take me back with it again to my cool and pleasant room; but she answered, 'It is too late for that now, my child; water never flows backward, and you must flow on your way, and try to refresh the people, and make them happy.' I had to be content with my fate, for I never succeeded in jumping over the edge. As soon as I had grown a few inches, men came with long narrow tubes which were held close to my feet, so that I had to jump in, in spite of myself. There I was imprisoned in a dark and narrow cage. I was so afraid and alarmed that I ran as fast as possible, and had almost given up all hope of ever escaping, when I saw a light dawning in the distance, and in a few moments I was out of my dark prison-house and in this beautiful garden, and in my great joy I jumped up as high as possible. "Now I have lived among these leaves and flowers very many years, and children come to play with me, and birds come from far and near to visit me, for I give them pure, fresh water to drink. "But there is still that longing to visit my mountain-home again; and often when I think of it, and know how useless it is to wish for it, I weep many tears in my despair. People do not understand this, and they say the well yields more and more water every day. "And now it is so bitter cold! the frost penetrates to my inmost heart; I can hardly speak any more. The moon-beams have no warmth either, and I really believe I shall freeze to death!" Then all was still. Meanwhile the moon had reached the other side of the heavens, and was just about putting out her light. She showed her ugly disposition to the last, for she looked maliciously over to the poor dying fountain, and blew the vapor of her lantern in its face. When Gerald awoke the next morning, he immediately looked out of the window to see the fountain. It had become silent as the grave. And where he had seen the jet splashing and playing so merrily in the sun yesterday, he now saw a lump of ice; it seemed to him to have the form of a heart, with icicles hanging down on all sides like frozen tears. Gerald felt very much like crying himself. But he was too sensible a boy not to see that the whole story of the well had been a dream. Translated from the German. FLORA UNNA. EDUCATIONAL BULLETIN. N. T. M.-I would not have my name mentioned as one who does not take the "Monthly." Would not miss a number for twice its cost.Prof. Otis S. Johnson, Fairhaven, Vt. Simple Diet most Healthful.-To the Editors of the "National Teachers' Monthly": "In these days of sensational literature, the idea of anything written for instruction seems repulsive to those whose intellect has been fed on excitement. But it is not merely in the field of romance that excitement is found to be injurious to the improvement of the mind. Theology, metaphysics, and even science may so bias the intellect that simple truths are overlooked, and the proper development of the mind is obstructed. "A young lady, whose tastes had led her to study argumentative works on theology and metaphysics, whose school education had been almost overlooked and forgotten amidst studies which she fancied would elevate her above the common, practical thoughts of human life-this young lady, sitting by the parlor table covered with books, by chance took up a volume of your 'Teachers' Líbrary.' It was 'The Student or Fireside Friend,' by Mrs. Lincoln Phelps. This,' said she, is a juvenile book, only fitted for school girls and boys. Suppose,' said her mother, you read the introduction of that book.' The young lady read on through several chapters; she then turned to the table of contents, and at length remarked that this was the very book she needed, to fasten upon her mind primary truths and elementary principles, to teach her what education consists of, what are the objects, and what are the final causes of the various branches which it includes. "Since that evening the young lady has laid aside her Bushnell upon the Natural and Supernatural,' The Origin of Evil as consistent with the Goodness and Sovereignty of God,' The Doctrine of Decrees as reconcilable with Man's Free Agency,' etc., and has come down to the consideration of plain and simple truths."-A Mother. A Popular History.-By the report of the State Superintendent of Schools, just published, it appears that of the twenty-six incorporated cities in Wisconsin, just one-half, or thirteen, already use Barnes' Brief History of the United States in the public schools, and eleven use it exclusively. Science of Government.-In general, the text-books published by Messrs. A. S. Barnes & Co. deserve notice for their fine systematic arrangement. "Martin's Civil Government" illustrates this. The four parts are subdivided so as to make thirty-two chapters. At the end of each is a short summary of the truths enunciated in the foregoing chapter. At the side of the page, a full-faced mention of the topic there discussed adds to the facility, without encroaching of reference on the margin. No man is fit to take part in the government of the country, as a voter or office-holder, who does not understand the principles in the first part of this book. The language is especially true and logical, and gives evidence of the author's fine power of analysis and fitness for the teacher's position. As samples of concentrated information without ambiguity, we casually notice these expressions"Intelligence, will and power are necessary to government.' "The duties of the government are, to secure Justice, to promote the general welfare, to defend the State.' "Political duties are moral obligations." "For a few years the monarchy was abolished and the Commons ruled under the guidance of Cromwell. This was the period of the Commonwealth." One can hardly open the book without alighting upon a useful fact or a good point; yet the continuity of the whole is agreeably instructive, preparing the mind for the approaching truth without circumlocution. The clear print is pleasant, and adapted to the needs of the school-room,-Boston Beacon. Menagerie Coming! Prof. Joseph H. Ketron of Bloomingdale, Ill., writes: "I congratulate both publishers and author upon the announcement of Steele's Fourteen Weeks in Zoology.' I think the work is needed and that Dr. Steele is the man to write it. He is thoroughly scientific, and yet perfectly loyal to the Christian religion. A School worth going to.—A Detroit boy paid his first visit to one of the union schools the other day as a scholar, and as he came home at night, his mother inquired: "Well, Henry, how do you like going to school?""Bully," he replied, in an excited voice. "I saw four boys licked, one girl get her ear pulled, and a big scholar burned his elbow on the stove! I don't want to miss a day."-Utica Herald. Professor Ilsey, the eminent and successful director of music, writes as follows: NEWARK, N. J., Feb. 24, 1876. Messrs. A. S. BARNES & Co., For the last twenty years I have been engaged in teaching music in the public schools in Newark (N. J.), and can truly say that I was not satisfied with any of the text-books used, or their results, until we introduced, about two years ago, Mr. He takes up the subject in a clear, comprehensive manner, step by step, giving exercises enough in each division to enable every pupil thoroughly to understand the point under illustration before he is advanced to the next, and the progression is so gradual, the youngest child has no difficulty in making the ideas his own. Jepson's Progressive Series. I consider Mr. Jepson's method eminently adapted to our public school system, and a very valuable aid to our class teachers, who can now successfully conduct this branch of education, so easy of application are the rules and explanations throughout the whole work. Pupils who are carefully carried through the entire series cannot fail of becoming skillful and intelligent readers of vocal music. I hope Mr. Jepson's efforts will be fully appreciated and his work widely adopted by our schools throughout the country. Faithfully yours, FERDINAND I. ILSEY. Thorough German.-The perusal of Worman's Complete Grammar afforded me real pleasure. It is a decided improvement upon all other works of a similar grade-in my estimation eclipsing them entirely. expect to use it next fall with my advance class.-Prof. John I. Harvey, West Virginia University. INSTRUCTION vs. EDUCATION. HERE is a vast difference between a cistern and a fountain. THE No. 8. The one simply collects, and retains; the other receives, and dispenses. This illustration, trite though it is, fails to indicate the full distinction between the effects of instruction and of education. It is worth something, however. The water which enters into a cistern does it no good. There is no power of assimilation in the smooth, impervious coat of plaster, but it can hold fast what comes in and keep it for the man who will thrust in the pump and lift up the soft, cleansing waters. The fountain also is but a pipe and lets the force of a reservoir, hidden away on the distant hills, pass through it and toss high into air the sparkling stream. Both the reservoir and the fountain are passive, yet they serve a purpose; the one holds, and the other transmits. Notice the application. The mind is neither a cistern nor a fountain. It is not a good reservoir nor a perfect conduit. We must reach out for a broader, profounder fact to illustrate the operations of the mind. It has a power of assimilation, and so modifies even where it does not appropriate. It is a machine which works on chemical principles, forming new compounds entirely unlike the elements which it uses. Nothing can come from the mind quite as it went in. There is a color, a flavor, imparted at once; and, in time, a complete transformation. The brain is a sort of spiritualized stomach. The process of mental appropriation is very like that of digestion where bread, butter and beef are changed into bone, flesh and hair, and are no longer to be recognized or claimed by their original owners. As food lying in the system and resisting the action of the gastric juice and the bile, becomes a torment, and every organ of the body cries out against its presence, so undigested knowledge clogs the brain, checks its processes and calls for a mental purge. In fact, however, the embarrassment rarely reaches this issue. The mind generally rejects directly what it does not want or can not assimilate. At the best, by our positive order, it will only lay superfluous material aside, under the care of the memory, to be used at another time. What the mind has appropriated by the actions of its own powers is its permanent possession. No other ideas ever become one's mental property. Every teacher is familiar with illustrations of this fact. A boy will remember his own translation of a passage in Latin even though it has been shown to be incorrect. The true rendering in class, received with no effort, may be accepted but will not be retained, and on examination, the old, faulty translation, supposed to have been long forgotten, will often come to the surface, to the amazement of both pupil and instructor. Knowledge which costs nothing, which is not born of the travail of the soul, is fleeting and unprofitable. Explain a point to a class, be it never so clearly; impart information even of the most interesting and valuable character; and, if it be not fastened in the mind of the pupil, be not digested and assimilated by a subsequent mental operation, it will soon pass away. Gradgrind may fill the little pitchers ranged before him full to overflowing, but they will not hold water. Here is the great benefit of class-drill and reviews. They force the mind to appropriate knowledge, and so retain what else would be suffered to escape. Where pupils are advanced in years and have formed habits of study, they will make the necessary effort to convert into mental bone and sinew any literary banquet to which they may be invited. Hence with such scholars the lecture system avails, and facts imparted in class are carefully treasured up for use. Again, the eager inquiries of young children and of thoughtful pupils may be answered to advantage, because the very question indicates that the mind is in a receptive state, and its tentacles, so to speak, are all thrust out quivering with expectancy to grasp a morsel of food. It is also the duty of the teacher to excite the mental appetite; to display tempting viands in order to stimulate the intellectual processes; to flavor the solid dishes of a dull lesson; and so induce his pupils to love their work. The recitation should be made interesting and pleasant by anecdote and illustration, by the play of fancy and wit, and by every art and device which can be drawn from an exhaustless store-house of knowledge and ingenuity. Still, holding all this, it seems to me that the use of instruction even in these cases is subsidiary. The end is not so much to impart information as to awaken thought. Experience teaches me more and more, that the great object of all primary and intermediate teaching is not instruction but education. The acquisition of knowledge is desirable and essential, yet it is not to be compared with the training and discipline of the mental powers. The knowledge gained in school soon becomes dim and vague, and much of it is entirely forgotten. But the intellectual vigor and acumen, the ability |