*E 



HOY. 26. 



MOORE'S RURAL TOW-YORKER. 



ACQUIREMENT OF TRUE PBrHCWLES. 



Warn 



mi'* > 



in.lit 



i considered is mors! principle. 

 All other possessions sink into insignificance when 

 taken in connection with this. Il is tbe real, 

 genuine stamp which characterizes individuals, 

 keeping their memory sacred in the hearts of 

 others. No person can be tm\j*4voaUd Without 

 it. He may have all tbe knowledge of books which 

 one mind can contain, and still, without correct 

 principles— a keen and just perception of right, 

 and a desire to do that right— there is a great 

 mental deformity marking such a person just as 

 perceptibly as outward deformity. 



When, if ever, are these principles to be obtain- 

 ed r May we, ofier years spent in vice and wicked- 



which were formed in childhood? There is an 

 old diving, and u true one, though couched in 

 simple Ipogiioge:— " At, the I trig is bent the tree's 

 inclined." These principles, tben, must be in- 

 stilled into our being from our earliest yeors; or, 

 when that little tatff shall hove become a trtt, we 

 will behold a hrwtUd and gnarhd oak. Fellow 

 teachers, upon you and me devolves a part of this 

 great work.— how are we to accomplish it best?— 

 The stamping of the foot, ond the throwing of the 

 ruler, may frighten the child into obedience, yet 

 they will not give anything real when the princi- 

 ples come to be tried and refined, and the dross 

 thrown aside. We want something ttfrlifig, then 

 —something that will withstand the teats to which 

 we are obliged to submit before we are pronounced 

 ready to take apart in the "great concerns" of 

 life. For one, I do not want that obedience which 

 only moves the hand subservient to my will, and 



reason with the child, and convince him that a 

 certain course is right, and be must pursue it be- 

 cause it is riqhty and for tho same reason ueglect 

 to do wrong because it is wrong. Here we have 

 the standard course of action, which will be con- 

 tinued without our keeping an " eye watch " over 

 every movement. I argue that children Dover do 

 wrong in early life becuuse the evil yields pleas- 

 ure. Children err many times from an inability 

 to determine what is right, and if left to continue 



or, become so accustomed to wrong practices, and 

 find it hard to change, yet if taught the right at a 



it, and by-undby will act from a natural desire to 

 do right which has taken possession of the heart. 

 Talking to children about tho necessity of hav- 

 ing good principles, will not suffice to leach them, 



let them be adorned with perfect kindness, that 

 they may seem more beautiful and inviting. Ever 

 place a proper estimate upon every childish oct in 

 which the least principle is involved, thus teach- 

 ing the just appreciation which those acts deserve, 

 —ever be truthful, as truth lies at the foundation 

 of all other principles. But I need cot enumerate 

 the little links which, when united, form the great 

 chain of true principles. Emily Ellis. 



New Lebanon, Col. Co., N. T., ISM. 



THE OLD SCHOOL-HOUSE. 



How many pleasant memories, how many en- 

 dearing recollections, come thronging to my brain 

 as I look back to boyhood's sunny hours, when, 

 with my books under my arm, I went whistling 

 with gay, light- bear ted companions towards the 

 old school-house, by the big pino tree. How joy- 

 ous and full of gladuess were those days, when, 



thought outrageously long,) we were let out upon 

 the grassy lawn to make things "hum" for awhile 

 with our noisy glee. Mow wo tumbled, wrestled, 

 and played tho thousand gnmes aud sports known 

 only to the school-boy, and then, when we heard the 

 tiokl'ing of the good old master's bell, with what 

 a happy shout would we disperse, each trying to 

 outstrip the others in the race for the school-room 

 door. How we loved that old master, and how 

 patiently would we sit, and with tbc strictest at- 

 tention, listen to him, while he recounted anec- 

 dotes without number, of terrible deeds performed 

 io buttle, — of men who crossed the sea to find new 

 worlds — all of which we, with big eyes, and wide 

 open mouths, would swallow with heart tell admi- 

 1'iAimii, Ah! those were happy days — hut they 

 have passed never to return. 



Where now are the boys that thronged that 

 grusj burn?— where now is the old master*— 

 where the old school-houso ? The boys are gone; 

 some of ibem ta take an active port in business 

 life j some to hold the reins of government ; some 



e great aud famous; others are lowly ond ob- 



THE EDUCATION MOST NEEDED. 



The question is often asked why it is thi 

 few people are successful in business, and why 

 property finds such an unequal distribution? 

 This man, tbey say, received the advantages of a 

 good English Education, and that man was educa- 

 ted at one of our best colleges. Both have been 

 industrious, honest and economical, and yet neither 

 of them has been successful in business. Why is 

 it? asks the New York Express, and that journal 

 proceeds to point out the cause, and, in the course 

 of its remarks, observes: 



"The idea too commonly prevails that a mere 

 knowledge of books is the beginning ond end 

 of education. The sons and daughters, espe- 

 cially of the rich, grow up with this notion in 

 their heads, in idleness, as it were, with little 

 idea of the responsibilities thot await them. 

 Their natures revolt at the mention of 'labor,' 

 not dreaming that tbeir porents before them 

 obtained the wealth they ore so proud of by 

 industry and economy. How many young men, 

 college-bred though they may be, are prepared 

 to manage the estates which their fathers pos- 







i iitViii 



to acquire? How moDy young women, though 

 having acquired all the knowledge and graces 

 of the best schools, know how to do what their 

 mothers hove done before them, and which the 

 daughters may be compelled to do at some period 

 of their lives? The children of the poor have 

 to labor or starve, and as fur as that goes they 

 are educated to be practical. The education 

 that scoffs at labor, and encourages idleness, 

 is the worst enemy for a girl, man, or woman. 

 Iustead ot ennobling, it degrades; it open3 up 

 the road to ruin. The education which directs 

 us to do what we are fitted to do— that respects 

 labor — that inculcates industry, honesty, and 

 fair dealing, and that strips us of selfishness, is 

 the education we do need, ond thot which must 

 become the prevailing system of tho country 

 before we can be a people cither happy or pros- 

 perous." 



RUDIMENTAL ACCURACY EN EDUCATION. 



At the distribution of certificates to the success- 

 ul candidates at the late Oxford Local Examina- 

 .ion, et Exeter, a few days ago, the Right Hon. 

 Sir J. Coleridge delivered an oddrcss, in the course 

 of which he said -.— " I would press the importance 

 of that which the Uni vers tty of Oxford adhered to, 



namely, the sticking to the elements, and saying 

 that nothing shall supercede accuracy in the lower 

 aud rudiments! parts of education. An examiner 

 had a class before him— the first class in arithme- 

 tic. Tbey were able to answer questions; they 

 had gone through all the higher branches of arith- 

 metic, and were prepared to answer anything. 

 But he said, 'I will give you a sum in simple 

 addition.' He accordingly dictated a sum, and 

 cautiously interspersed o good many cipherB.— 

 Suppose, for instance, he said, 'a thousand and 

 forty-nine,' He found there was not one in tho 

 class who was able to put down that sum in simple 

 addition ; they could not make count ol the ciphers. 

 That showed him the boys had been suffered to 

 pass for too quickly over the elementary parts of 

 arithmetic. The examiner look them in grummor, 

 ond quoted o few lines from Cowper : 



My right there is none to dispute.* 

 ■What governs right?' There was not a boy could 



could tell what governed 'see' or what 'see' 



governed after it. These are instances that I think 

 it not useless to mention, for the purpose of draw- 

 ing the otlenlion of intelligent schoolmasters to 

 the necessity of attending— not merely once in the 

 beginning, but going back from time to time— to 

 elements."— Engluh paper. 



THE TEACHINGS OF ARITHMETIC. 



When* the pupil does not understand the ques- 

 tion or proposition, be should be allowed to reason 

 upon it in his own way, and agreeably to his own 

 associations. Whether bis wuy is the best or not, 

 on the whole, it is the best way for him al first, 

 ond he ought by no means to bo interrupted in it, 

 or forced out of it. The judicious teacher will 

 leave him to manage it entirely by himself, and 





.'■lb i 



little difficulty, but is still in a way that will lead 

 to a proper result, ho will apply his aid so as to 

 keep him in his own way. When the scholar has 

 been through the process in his own way, he should 

 he made to explain how he bus done it ; ond if be 

 has not proceeded in the best wuy, he should be 

 led by degrees into the beBl way. Many 







■' Life'. 



■.ulns, 



The kind old master, who labored so hard to moke 

 us useful and prominent member* of society, WU 

 long since gathered lo the graves of hifl fathers. - 

 The old, time-worn school-house hu given woy to 

 a more cosily ediGcc, which looks too cold and 

 formal to me, as I think of the little brown build- 

 ing of years ago. But the old tree stands there 

 mure beautiful and majestic than ever,— other 

 boja play beneath its broad -sprcadiug branches, 

 making the welkin ring with their thoughtless 

 gaiety, while il looks down as smilingly upon them 

 »s it did upon us, in the years long since gone. 

 Geo. H. Wobokx. 



lo do a thing, or thiuk of a thing, ami if they titid 

 u scholar pursuing a method different from their 

 own or that of the text book, they suppose of 

 course he must be wrong, and they check him 

 at once, and endeavor to force him into their woy, 

 whether he understands it or not. If such teoch- 

 ers would have patience to listen to their scholars, 

 ond examine their operations, they wouldfrequcnt- 

 ly discover very good ways that hove never oc- 

 curred to them before. Nothing is more discour- 

 aging to scholors, than to interrupt them, when 

 they ore proceeding by a method which they know 

 to be right; and to endeavor to force them into 

 one which they do not understand, and which is 

 not agreeable to their ways of thinking. And 

 nothing gives scholars so muchconfidence in 

 own powers, and" stimulates them so much t 

 their own efforts, os to allow them to pursue 

 own methods, and to encourage them in tb 



i* uot wisdom, but ignoronce, which teaches 



presumption. Genius may be sometimes 



10 thing is so diffident as knowledge. 



mwledge i.nl.irL'e- with 



yae- T x 



The HriiAS Mind.— How vast, how morrellous 

 tho amplitude of the human understanding 

 principle so nearly allied to the Divine, that, like 

 images of the resplendent worlds above, impressed 

 on a tranquil sea, the thoughts of God glance 

 soul, and the Infir 

 lite, for the improri 



and worn out coal scot ties ; breod, which, though 

 not very palatable is still nutritious (?) and diges- 

 tible, bos been obtained from sawdust! and Huen 

 i 'vith a common ncid, have been mode 

 - to yield more than their own weight 



WETEE'S CAVE. -NO. IV. 



At the entrance of Jefferson's Room is an oval 

 stalagmite of enormous size, gradually diminish- 

 ing toward the top, and having the appearance of 

 being left in an unfinished state. It is thirty-six 

 feet io length, by about thirty m breadth, and the 

 same in height. "The peculiarity and beauty of 

 this stalagmite consist in its being composed of 

 several stories or stages, which are separated bj 

 several horizontal loyers of crystal spar, and f/om 

 layer to layer the space is filled up with perpen- 

 dicular flu tings, fur me d liy the dropping stalactites 

 descending from singe to stoge. This is most 

 happily denominated the Tower of Babel, for tho' 

 not strictly resembling the mass that yet remaius 

 of this stupendous edifice on the plains of Sbinar, 

 it is nevertheless very like the popular represen- 

 tations of the Tower of Babel accompanying the 

 old editions of the Bible." Behind this Tower we 

 find Sir Walter Scott's Hall, ond Sir Walter's 

 Library. In the center of the former is on eleva- 

 tion called the Tomb, ond funcy has not failed to 

 find, in the numerous incrustations which adorn 

 these rooms, many imitations of the armor and 

 baronial trophies which filled the classic Hull and 

 Library of Abbotsford. 



Snow Hill resembles in form ond size the Tower 

 of Babel, but its top is crowned with a mass of 

 dazzlingly white Bpar. suggesting the name it 

 beors. Near the Hill is a formation bearing tho 

 s of Oyster Shell and Fly Trap. "Both or 

 these oames," soys Miss Carev, "ore in some 

 ort descriptive, but neither in poetical keeping 

 pith the object designated. The stalactites of 

 flitch it is formed are two thin layers, nearly cir- 

 ulur in shape, upd from live to six feet in diame- 

 er. These hollow sheets are joined at their 

 smaller end precisely like the shells of an oyster, 

 and stand apart at the larger ond outer end uutil 

 tbey gap open a width of several feet. The inner 

 surface of these shells is perfectly smooth, but 

 their exterior is covered with all sorls of strange 



tion of folds resembling the bosom ruffle of a shirt, 



or the full lace trimmiogs of a lady's cap. depend- 



iui: edgewise, and so translucent os to odinitof 



candle light shining through them. Some of these 



ruffles ore of the purest snowy white, others are of 



a dull yellow, ond others again of a brown color. 



ature has done her starching so well that not- 



ithstandingthe continual moisture In winch tiny 



e exposed, they do not in the least grow limp." 



A little beyond these, a recess in the wull leads 



the termination chamber, a room situated two 



thousand five hundred feet from the entrance of 



cave. Here is a fine spring of water covered 



ir with a very thin, yet strong lid of rock. This 



be lost point to which visitors penetrate, and 



t is somewhat difficult of entrance, the name 



the traveler, Bruce, hus been given to the 



iagmite at the entrance, and the fountain bos 



n appropriately named the Source of the Nile. 



TlUT 



nude 



i tho i 



eating part of the route, since many of the rooms 

 present a very different appearance when viewed 

 from different points. But many become too much 



ger lone; in these subterranean caverns. Miracles 

 of beauty and wondrous freaks of fancy were hur- 

 riedly noticed, and nt midnight our party emerged 

 from the mouth of the cove, and with glad henrts 

 entered the grove through whose leafy arches the 

 blue sky and the silver stars looked down with a 

 gentle radiance, never before so beautiful. 



There is much to awaken poetic faucy in the 

 darkness and silence of this strange palace — in 

 the patient toil of Nature through unknown ages— 

 in the strange creations which slart up like pale 

 ghosts at almost every wave of the torch, and in 

 the solemn vigil of " the Guards " watching out 

 the long procession of centuries, but neither poet's 

 pen nor artist's pencil can convey an adequate 

 impression of the wonders which fill this cele- 

 brated cave. Bertha Mobtdjeh. 



Newark, N. T„ 1859, 



ECONOMIES OF MODERN SOCIETY. 



We seem to be approaching a time, says Dr. 

 Potter, when valuable use will be found for every- 

 thing, however vile and apparently worthless. 

 Take iags, for example; when tbey have ceased 

 to be fit covering even for a beggar, and are cost 

 out, loaded with filth, they ure carefully collected, 

 transported as precious freight from one couutry to 

 another, ond, after being washed aud bleached, and 

 subjected to the operation of cutlers and presses, 

 come forth a beautiful white fabric, ready to 

 receive and transmit to distant places or uges the 

 records of wisdom, or the messages of busiuess, 

 or the confidential breathings of friendship. So 



i offal, which hai 



tied ' 



streets, ore picked up 

 ammoniac factory, where, after being 

 distilled, Ac, they yield grease for soap; 

 which, on being burned in close aparlmei 



posits the black soot called lomp-black, and 







hartshorn j the sulphate of soda, or glauber salt, 

 and lastly, sal - ammoniac. Horns, which are 

 attached to hides when purchased by the tanner, 

 are separated, sold to the rookers of combs and 

 lanterns, who make combs of one part; knife- 

 handles, tops of whips, Ac, from another; glue 

 again from another; fat for soap from another ; 

 tho transparent part of lanterns from another ; and 

 finally, by grinding down the bony substance 

 which remains after all thesa operations, tbey 

 have a manure which Ibey sell to the farmer. Tin 

 prussiate of potash, a beautiful mineral, by whicl 

 we obtain prussian blue, is produced from tin 

 hoofs of horses and cattle ; a black dye, for tbe us- 

 f calico printers, is extracted from old tin kettles 



DAMASCUS. 



Dajiascis is the oldest city in the world. Tyre 

 and Sidon have crumbled on tbe shore; Banlbec 

 ■ so ruin; Palmyra is buried in the sands of the 

 desert; Nineveh and Babylon hare disappeared 

 from the Tigris and Euphrates; Damascus remains 

 what it was before the days of Abraham— a centre 

 of trade and travel— an island of verdure in a 

 desert — "a predestinated capital," with martial 

 and sacred associations extending through more 

 than thirty centuries. It was "near Damascus" 

 that Saul of Tarsus saw the "light from heaven 

 above the brightness of tbe sun ;" the street which 

 is called Strait, in which it was said " he prayeth," 

 still runs through the city. The caravan comes 



still the sheik, the ass, and tbe water-wheel, the 

 merchants of Euphrates and of the Mediterranean 

 still "occupy" these " with the multitude of their 

 waters." The ci'y which Mahomet surveyed from 

 a neighboring height, and was afraid to enter, 

 "because il is given to man to have but one para- 

 dise, and for his part, he resolved not to have it in 

 this world," is to this day what Julian colled " Ihe 

 eye ol tbe East," as it was in tbe time of Isaiah, 

 " the head of Syria." From Damascus came the 

 damson, our blue plum, and tbc delicious apricot 

 of Portugal, called damaso ; damask, our beautiful 

 fabric of cotlon and silk, with vines and flowers 

 raised upon a smooth, bright ground; the damask 

 rose, introduced into England in the time of Henry 

 VIII; the Damascus blade, so famous the world 

 over for its keen edge and wonderful elasticity, 

 the secret of whose manufacture was lost when 

 Tamerlane carried off tbe artists into Persia; and 

 that beautiful art of inlaying wood aud steel with 

 silver and gold, a kind of Mosaic, engraving und 

 sculpture united, called Damas-keening — with 

 which boxes, bureaus, swords and guns arc orna- 

 mented. It is still a city of flowers ond bright 

 waters; the streams from Lebanon, the "rivers 

 ot Damascus," tbe " rivers of gold," still murmur 

 and sparkle in the wilderness of " Syrian gardens." 



WANT OF AIE. 



i how 



:iiu!iil 



and tbe diminution of life, and the increase of 

 mortality in tbe United States, have advanced 

 together. Fifty or sixty years ago, stoves were 

 not much in use. In all the old bouses, which 

 have been built for that length of time, and in 



place— but now no longer io use; being either 

 permanently or temporarily closed up, and re- 

 placed by a close iron stove, or at best by a small 

 grate, or else by a furnuce. And correspondingly 

 we find, wbereverwe have the records from which 

 to determine, a deterioration of life and health 

 regularly progressing witl 



Tim: 



have seen the average age at which death lakes 

 place has, within the last half century, diminished 

 from six to nine years; that in Philadelphia and 

 New York, the age at which half the deaths occur, 

 has receded within tbe same period, from twenty- 

 four years to less than five years. And that tbe 

 rate per cent, of infant mortality in Boston nearly 

 doubled in twenty years, and in New York city 

 actually trebled in forty-seven years; the deaths 

 of children under five years of age in 100,000 

 inhabitants of all ages, having regularly increased 

 from OSS, io the year 1810, to 0,084 in an equal 

 population in the yeor 1857." 



These facts ore worthy of consideration. With- 

 out proving that stoves are unwholesome, they do 

 prove, we thinK, that our houses should be prop- 

 erly ventilated, and our rooms better supplied 

 with oxygen. The old-fashioned tire-place venti- 

 lated the room in which o fire was kindled. Tbe 

 part formerly played by the open fire-place should 

 now be performed by some other opening. 



THE RIVER JORDAN. 



r of tbe Utica Herald thus de- 

 scribes tbe River Jordan;— A line of low green 

 forest trees betrayed the course of the sacred 

 river through the plain. So deep is ils channel, 

 and bo thick is the forest that skirts its banks, that 

 I rode within twenty yards of il before I caught 

 the first gleam oT its waters. I was agreeably dis- 

 appointed. 1 had heard the Jordan described us 

 an insipid, muddy stream. Whether it was the 

 contrast with the desolation nround, or my fancy 

 had made its green bunks so beautiful, I know not, 

 but it did seem at tho moment of its revelation to 

 my lon-mg eyes, the perfection of calm and loveli- 

 ness. It is hardly os wide as the Mohawk at Utica, 

 but far more rapid and impassioned in its flow. 

 Indeed, of all the rivers I hove ever seen, the 

 Jordan has the fiercest current. Its water is by 

 no means clear, but it as little deserves tbe name 

 of muddy. At the place where I first saw it, tradi- 

 tion assigns the baptism of our Savior, and also 

 the miraculous crossing of the children of Israel 

 on tbeir entrance to the promised land. Like a 



a few pebbles from its banks as tokens of remem- 

 brance of the most familiar river in the world. 

 Three miles below tbe spot where I now stand, tbo 

 noble river— itself the very emblem oi lilc-sud- 

 denly throws itself on the putrid bosom of the 

 Dead Sea. 



Tmr 



i grei 



Krci 



-ugality to 



ihad been "accustomed in early life in the 

 His meal consisted of a few dishes dressed 

 lainest munner. The courtiers often re- 

 I him with the simplicity of his table; and 

 I reply, in the "°r ds of aD ancient :— " If 

 ts are men of sense, there is sufficient for 

 f they are not, I can very well dispense 



We devote the whole of Ihe Youra Rtiuufl 



column the present week to uus • tnng a numh 

 of inquiries from our young friends, and hat 





Artesian Wells are bored through rocks by a 

 heavy steel borer, moved by a spring, as common 

 drills ere by hand. Tbey are only 3 to 5 inches in 

 diameter, and bored so deep because water enough 

 is not found at 30, or 300, or 2,000 feet deep, 

 These wells raise the water above the surface ol 

 tbe well 60 to 150 feet deep, so that the power ol 

 the water is easily applied to desired purposes. J. 

 H. should road the account of the well nt Louis 

 ville, Kv,, 8,080 feet deep, in this paper half a 



Sr/x-Doo.— Will some one please explain the phlloa- 

 opuy of what Is called a sun-dog, anpposcd to bo an 

 Indicator of storms ?-C. H. T., Wtet A'orttytld, Jtaee., 



A sun-hoo, or mock-sun, is caused by Ihe reflec- 

 tion or refraction of light from a cloud or boiy 

 atmosphere, so as to give light like a far inferior 

 sun. It is one of the common halos or parhelia, 

 and seems to occur when the state of the atmos- 

 phere is fitted for storm or change. 





- .. ',1 .. 



Let P. S. expose two equal portions of water in 

 nilar vessels, in a cold day or evening, one 

 wing b«n boiled und thtotlur not, and see what 



the trial will show; a good experiment for him. 



Then let him report to us the result, aud oiler his 

 ion. He will receive tbe due answer. 



— If the theory, in tniiRlit 

 In chemistry uuJ plnl^-pliy, Unit el.vlrlclly Is i,ti)-o»- 

 daralite Is correct, bow Is 11 that a flash of lightning 



Elkctjucitv is said to be imponderable because 

 it cannot be weighed ; this does not prevent its 

 being being very elastic and powerful. The 

 explosion (thunder) is caused by the air.separatcd 

 by the passage of lightning, closing again with 

 great force. 



. He 



.r..,. 2 l.tl 



the depth. 



-8,0., PemtroJkt, 2T. K.1S69. 



Mineral nous have gone out of use, because 

 they are good for nothing. If S. C. wished one, 

 he eon make one out of a forked limb of the opple 

 tree, or of witch -haul, which will work admirably, 

 if he knows how to use it — all depends on this. 





nods, but do not succeed, and presume I do not use 

 be right material. By giving me the desired luforma- 



Pdtty and litharge, weU mixed together, makes 

 i good cement, but it must be well dried before 

 voter is applied. Want of patience in this respect 

 Muses failure, Let it dry three weeks. We pre- 

 sume " Constant Reader" is endeavonr 



t is good for tho 



The 





Inglieh 

 called Roman cement, but we haTO 



e to obtain it in this country. Geo. 



eb, of this city, the artist who makes 

 engravings for the Rural, prepares 

 a waterproof composition, which 



ry neat job, and never fails. Strips 

 make an aquarium about eighteen 



G exes he Model School fob Bots.— Will you, or 

 some of your numerous correspondents, please 

 inform me Lf tbe " Genesee Model School for Hoys," 



know the addresB necessary to send for a circular 

 to that institution. As I have no other means of 

 ascerlaining whether the above school ktept now 

 or no, an answer through the Rpbax will greatly 

 oblige— Josei'b, Genets, If. J'. 165*. 



The building of the Model School was burned 

 several years since, ond tbe school in consequence 

 broken up, Prof. Suoab, the Principal, we be- 

 lieve [a uu?v the Principal of a school in Dansville. 



