MICHIGAN DEPARTMENT. CONDUCTED BY J. M. GREGORY, J. M. B. SILL, AND A. S. WELCH. THE UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN. IN 1824, forty years ago, two men-one from Massachusetts and the other from New Jersey,-traveling westward to the borders of civilization, chanced to meet about thirty-seven miles west of Detroit. The meeting-place was all a wilderness then an unbroken forest of oaks and hickory, with Indians and wolves around them. Both men were married, and each wife was named Ann. The forest, the hillsides, the river, gurgling over rocks and winding through the valley, were all pleasant. It was as beautiful as a garden, a place for repose and rest. They made it a home, and called it Ann Arbor. The tide of civilization has rolled on for forty years, working marvelous changes. The Michigan Central Railroad winds through the valley; the river is harnessed to water-wheels; the forest has been broken up; there are wide fields, busy thoroughfares, farm-houses, churches, schools, a city of seven thousand, and a State University. After a nine-hundred-mile-railroad jolting, I gladly left the crowded car for a night's rest in this quiet inland town. I received a cordial welcome from the President of the University, Rev. Dr. E. O. Haven, who has but recently entered upon his duties. Dr. Haven is well known in the East as the late able editor of Zion's Herald, member of the Massachusetts Board of Education, and state senator from the first Middlesex district. He was for four years a professor in this University, and was called to the Presidential chair by a unanimous vote of the Regents. I had heard that there was a University at Ann Arbor; I knew that it had an excellent observatory, and one of the finest transit instruments in the world, but supposed the University might be, like many other institutions, a one-horse affair. (That may not be elegant diction, but I have Sidney Smith for authority. He speaks of a forty-parson power.) I was surprised in stead to find a real University—not a skeleton, not a sham, not a University in prospective, but an institution with its Literary, Law and Medical departments well established, with a faculty of twenty-six professors and instructors, giving instruction to eight hundred and sixty students! A larger catalogue, I think, than this can not be shown by any other institution. The students are from nearly every loyal state, New England being well represented. The course of study is thorough, the grade is as high as at Harvard or Yale. No Theological Department has been established. The subject is under consideration, however. The University Library has about twelve thousand volumes, and is rapidly increasing. There is a fine cabinet, a picture and statuary gallery. Rogers's statue of the Blind Girl of Pompeii, the character from Bulwer's Last Days of Pompeii, is an exquisite piece of sculpture, and is highly prized as the work of a native of Michigan. The University buildings are large, well arranged, and beautifully situated. The grounds are spacious and well laid out. The endowment of the institution is five-hundred thousand dollars, with an investment which yields forty thousand per annum. A large number of graduates are in the army, and many of the students have been in the ranks. Some bear honorable scars, and, having been discharged from military service, are fitting themselves for a life of usefulness. Pending the election in Ohio, a dozen of the students made Vallandigham a visit, and presented him with an address, which was trumpeted as being the voice of the University of Michigan; but the seven hundred and more who went not astray held an indignation-meeting, and repudiated Vallandigham and all his works, and his followers. The Observatory, erected and furnished by the citizens of Detroit, has already written its name on the roll of honor. The telescope, by Fitz, is of American workmanship, and although not so large as the Cambridge instrument, compares favorably with foreign instruments of the same focal length. The transit, as has already been stated, is one of the finest in the world. It is larger than any other in America, and is mounted in the most thorough manner. Prof. Watson, recently appointed astronomer, is a graduate of the University, and a son of Michigan. He has been but a few weeks in his chair, but has already brought himself into notice as a patient, constant, laborious observer, by discovering a new planet and a new comet. The comet may now be seen in Cassiopeia, just emerging from the Milky Way. It is rapidly nearing the earth, and will come within about fifteen million miles. Pity that it would not come a little nearer, that we might see whether it is substance or shadow. People who have never visited an observatory think it must be very nice to be an astronomer, to have a great telescope by which they can survey the mountains of the moon, almost to see the man in the moon, and explore the depths of space, where myriads of suns shine in eternal glory, moving through their unmeasured cycles. It is very pleasant to sit with your eye at the little end of the great tube, and gaze at Saturn with his swiftly whirling rings, at Jupiter's belts of darkness, at Mars, glowing with its red rays, at Venus, waxing and waning like the moon; but to be an astronomer you must look by the hour, steadily, almost without winking, lying on your back through the long, still winter night, muffled in your overcoat, with your toes aching with cold, your blood growing sluggish through inaction, with no fire in the observatory, for smoke and heat disturb the air. You must be alone, with no one to talk to. Enthusiasm must keep you warm. The far-distant worlds are your companions. You talk with them alone. Then, when the night work is done, there are the interminable columns of figures to be worked up: calculations which rack the brain and bring on headache. There is a prosaic as well as a poetic side. Visit the observatory at any hour of a clear winter night, and you will find Professor Watson in his cold, cheerless round house, seated in his chair, or lying on his back, looking through the telescope or transit. The same might be said, undoubtedly, of most astrono mers. Such is a glance at the University of Michigan-a young institution, but already a powerful influence for good in the country. How wonderful is the progress of this people! This institution is in a country which twenty years ago was all a wilderness. It is but twenty years old, yet it is established on a firm basis, is well endowed, is fitting six or seven hundred young men every year to do their part in the work of life. And its future prospect is as fair as that of any of the institutions of the country and the world. CARLETON. OFFICIAL DEPARTMENT. DEPARTMENT OF PUBLIC INSTRUCTION, VOCAL MUSIC IN DISTRICT SCHOOLS. QUESTIONS.-1. Is it lawful for directors to order that singing shall be taught in a common school? 2. May directors employ a man to give instruction in singing to the pupils of a school, requiring the pupils to devote one hour to singing each Wednesday afternoon, and an equal portion of time each Friday afternoon? 3. Is it lawful to pay such teacher out of the school-moneys of the district? 4. If the treasurer refuse to pay the order of directors drawn for the payment of said teacher, what is the remedy? 1. It is lawful for directors to introduce into the schools under their control any study which forms a legitimate branch of education. By Section 48 of the School Law, authority is conferred upon directors to direct what branches may be taught'. Vocal music may be regarded, in an æsthetic sense, as a legitimate branch of education, and has also strong utilitarian claims to a place in the course of study prescribed for our common schools. The elocutional benefits which it confers, by the exercise and discipline of the vocal organs, entitle it to high consideration at the hands of educators. The voice is as educable as the mind, and there are strong reasons for attending to the culture of the voice, if not as strong reasons as for attending to the culture of the mind. The voice is the vehicle of ideas, and the ideas which people our minds can only go out to influence and bless others as they find conveyance in words. The art of expression is the great, influential power of the world, and the orator bears in his hands both the palm of honor and the sceptre of power among men. But the witching power of the orator over others is more due to his mastery over the voice than to any thing else. It is because his voice has been educated that it has become an instrument of such marvelous influence. The final object of all vocal education, as followed in our schools, is to produce good readers and speakers. If in applying the means to secure this end vocal music is introduced, and our children, as an incident of their vocal education, become good singers also, the accomplishment is a valuable one, and will add so much the more to their usefulness and happiness. Having authority to direct what branches of education may be taught, and believing, as it is right they should, that vocal music is a legitimate branch of education, directors have the right to introduce singing into the school as a part of the course of study to be pursued. 2. If, acting under this authority, directors appoint that singing shall be taught in the school, it becomes their duty to make provision for imparting such instruction. If the teacher having charge of the school is not qualified to impart the needed instruction, the board may employ one who is so qualified. Here I will say that I think the ability to sing is a very desirable qualification in a teacher. Not that the power to discourse sweet music from that many-toned instruthe human voice- is an essential to success in the profession (for some excellent teachers have but little musical talent), but that in ment possession of this gift, the teacher has always at command a most effectual means of enlivening his school when his work drags heavily. A song, with many voices in concert in the school-room, as an occasional relief from that weariness of the flesh which much study induces, has a most soothing and inspiring effect, besides being promotive of cheerfulness and an appetite to study, and conducive to health and good feeling. 3. The right to employ a teacher to give instruction to the school in singing involves the obligation on the part of those employing him to allow and pay him for services performed under their direction. The power of the directors to order payment to be made for the services so rendered from the school-moneys of the district seems as clear as their right to appropriate such moneys for services rendered in teaching reading, geography, or grammar. mus. 4. When an officer refuses to discharge a duty which the law imposes, he may be compelled to its performance by a writ of mandaThat is the proper remedy in the case mentioned. The treasurer is also liable for misfeasance, under Section 76 of the School Law. JOHN P. BROOKS, Sup't Public Instruction. MATHEMATICAL DEPARTMENT. CONDUCTED BY S H. WHITE, OF CHICAGO. (P.0. BOX 3930.) INTRODUCTION TO NUMBERS.-COUNTING, EMBRACING ADDITION AND SUBTRACTION.-The simplest counting is naming in order the results of the successive additions of one to itself. To count intelligently it is necessary that the learner should comprehend the meaning of one, the starting-point, and also the number of units meant by each of the other terms used; else the process is, like naming the letters of the alphabet without the ability to detect them with the eye or give the sounds they represent, a purely mechanical one. Pebbles, blocks of wood, the numeral frame, any common objects, may be used to develop the idea of number in the child's mind. Let us look into the process. The teacher lays a pebble upon the desk and tells the class that there is one pebble. After they have become completely familiar with the idea of one by applying it to a number of objects, another pebble is laid out. Do not let them indulge the thought that the second one is two: it is only one. Take |