MOOKE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAIj AND FAMILY JOURNAL 
made by man. The more splendor, the 
more worthless the article, as the fruit of 
the Manchaneel resembling a golden pippin, 
but to eat of it is instant death. 
Man’s handiwork will soon crumble and 
its beauty fade away, it would require, per¬ 
haps, years of toil and care to make anoth¬ 
er so splendid sis this, but the tender little 
plant that perfumes the air around, if the 
cold blasts of winter come and trample it 
down, the next spring will raise its buried 
form, from out the earth again, and it will 
be just as beautiful as ever. 
Nature talks, she sings, she laughs, she 
weeps and through all of this teaches us 
wiser lessons than can the most eminent 
scholar of earth. Come away, ye soul-sick 
prisoner; liberate yourself from ivithin those 
dreary, walls blackened with an atmosphere 
that is corroding your finer feelings, and 
gnawing at your heart’s core. If life has 
not lost its active principles there is a balm 
for you in contemplating the beauties of Na¬ 
ture. Your heart, that now can scarcely 
pulsate, will throb with joy upon commu¬ 
ning with the great and grand. 
Why, you would become enthusiastic! 
become ecstatic! —then w'ould you realize 
that life is not so worthless, as to rack your 
brain in conning over plans by which you 
might get hold of- this piece of property, or 
loan money to tliat individual with usury 
upon it. Selfishness carried to excess will 
stab its own heart The poet sings of the 
country:— 
“ Most tranquil, innocent and happy life, 
Full of the joy chaste Nature yields, 
Redeemed from care and sin, and the hot strife 
That rings around the smok’d unwholesome dome 
Where Mighty mammon his black sceptre 
wields,— 
Here lot me rest in an humble cottage home. 
Here let me labor in the ennmell’d fields: 
How pleasant in these ancient woods to roam, 
With kind-eyed fViend, or friendly-teaching book; 
Or the fresh gallop on the dew-dropl hoalli, 
Or at fair eventide with feathered hook 
To strike the swift trout in the shallow brook. 
Or in the bower to twine the jasmine wreath. 
Or at the earliest blush of summer mom 
To trim tho bed, or turn the new-mown hay. 
Or pick the perfum’d hop, or reap the golden 
cornl 
So should my peaceful life glide smoothly all away.” 
THE FREE SCHOOL LAW. 
Mk. Editor: —Under the title of Free 
Schools, I see several beautiful descriptions 
of the [[^value of Education, portrayed in 
most vivid colors—together with the bene¬ 
ficial effects of Free Schools in various parts 
of the world. But I am not aware that 
the writei-s pretend that those valuable re¬ 
sults will be produced by the Free School 
Law of this State, of 1849; and when that 
is the subject of discussion, T cannot con¬ 
ceive why those things are so frequently re¬ 
iterated, nor the necessity of multiplying so 
many words in proving what no one denies, 
viz., the benefit of Education. Nor do I 
know what good can nisult from endeavor¬ 
ing to phistcr over the defects of said Law', 
by any such beautiful pictures. 
An article from the American, under 
the caption of “ Free School—Reaction,” is 
so cogent and powerful that it must convince 
the most peaceable that it is neccssjiry to 
continue “such bickerings in our peaceable 
Districts and Schools,” in the hopes to in¬ 
troduce the use of lettei-s, instead of hiero¬ 
glyphics, in Avriting signatures. The wri¬ 
ter says:—“After looking over the list of 
good old neighbors’ signatures, in their owm 
hand-writing, and obserring so many miser¬ 
ably poor and almost unintelligible marks” 
—(but he does not inform us whether he 
was able to decipher the educated from the 
uneducated men by their miserable auto¬ 
graphs,)—“I said to myself, read the print¬ 
ed petition. 
For the Rural New-Yorker 
RTJR.\L RHAPSODIES. 
^ lEASN THE MEANING OF WORDS. 
') Words are the oral expressions of thought 
I —the representatives of things and ideas. 
> They are the instruments of the mind.— 
^ Without them there w'ould be no thought 
i —no language—other than the mere Avork- 
I ings of instinct All the revelations from 
( Gr^ to his creature, Man, are preserved 
^ and banded down from age tp age, by the 
I written Word and Tradition. 
It is said by Lexicographers that we have 
t in our language about seventy thousand 
’ words, averaging at least two definitions to 
[ each. It is a work, then, of no small mag- 
; nitude to learn the meaning and true sense 
^ of so many w'ords—or enough even to read 
r undersUindingly the books and periodicals 
^ that treat of the most common subjects. 
( Every thing that Ave see has a name 
( whose utterance or sight reminds us of the 
<, thing Avhose representative the word is.— 
{ If tlien, Avords are the pictures of things, it 
becomes of the highest importance that Ave 
( acquire an accurate and critical knowledge 
\ of their meaning. No one, so long as he 
\ is in doubt about the meaning of a single 
\ word in a written or spoken sentence, can 
( determine with certainty its meaning; for 
I so long as there is ignorance or doubt about 
the meaning of one Avord the sentence re¬ 
mains a mystery. 
A child of common capacity, five yeai-s 
of age, if the member of an intelligent fam¬ 
ily, has learned the meaning of a large num- 
\ ber of words. Even before he can speak, 
\ he begins to understand the meaning of 
I sounds. Ask him for a fork, and he will go 
I to the place where they are kept, and make 
^ such signs as he thinks will procure for him 
^ the article asked for. Every name of tilings 
s about the house and garden soon become 
) familiar to the child. This is the true Avay 
j to leam the meaning of words. A thing is 
I presented to the child that he has not be- 
) fore seen—he sees it, and, if he can fidk, 
i you immediately hear the question, “ What 
is that? ” “What is it good for?” “ What 
is it made of? ” “ Where did you get it? ” 
BY WILL. WICKLIFFK. 
COUNTRY VERSUS CITY. 
Mankind are unappreciating and ungen¬ 
erous creatures. In all of her sublimity 
and grandeur Nature will compensate her 
subjects in her OAvn way — which, by her 
true lovers, is acknowledged the highest wa¬ 
ges that earth can afford. 
Subjects! some may be so absurd as to 
ridicule the idea of their being subjects of 
Nature, but from whence cometh the very 
materials of existence, food, water, fire and 
air— where do these originate ? Ah! man 
do you deny that you are Nature’s subject ? 
vSO do Avc deny that you are a loyal one— 
while you are only the child, those that ap¬ 
preciate are the real grown-up men of Na¬ 
ture. “Men build cities, but God made 
the country,” to which must be added that 
men lii'e in the cities, but God exists in the 
country. Where does the base, ignoble 
man practice his Avily arts to deceive and in¬ 
jure his fellow man ? The question is no 
sooner asked than the city can answer.— 
But some may aver that wicked men live 
in the country— admitted; but do they not 
properly belong to tlie city ? Upon the oth¬ 
er hand we shall claim that country people 
reside in cities—make the exchange and we 
will shoAv you the noblest beings of heaven 
in the countrj', and the basest beings of earth 
in the city. Bring the poor outcast from 
within the city walls, place him upon some 
delectable spot traced out by the hand of 
the Great Delineator, where his detestable 
acts could but be exposed, educate him 
with the real beauties of Nature, and, if he 
be not irrecoverably lost, we Avill show you 
a man that will venerate true nobleness and 
despise the Avays of the unjust Take the 
honest stout-hearted countryman, confine 
him within city walls, let him have free ac¬ 
cess with selfish 
THE AMERICAN BLUE JAY, 
Corvtis crUtcUua , Lin. 
This elegant bird is peculiar to North 
America, and is distinguished fis a kind of 
beau among the feathered tenants of our 
AA'oods by the brilliancy of his dress; and, 
like most other coxcombs, makes himself 
still more conspicuous by his loquacity and 
the oddness of his tones and gestures. He 
is almost a universal inhabitant of the Avoods, 
frequenting the thickest settlements as well 
as the deepest recesses of the forest, where 
his squalling voice often alarms the deer, to 
the disappointment of the hunter. In the 
charming season of spring, when every 
thicket poure forth hai-mony, the part per¬ 
formed by the jay ahvays catches the ear. 
He appears to be among his felloAV musi¬ 
cians, what the trumpeter is in a band, some 
of his notes bearing no distant resemblance 
to the tones of that instrument. These he 
has the faculty of changing through a great 
variety of modulations. When disposed 
for ridicule, there is scarcely a bird Avhosc 
peculiarities of song he cannot tune his notes 
to. When engaged in the blandishments 
of love, they resemble the soft chatterings 
of a duck, and are scarce heard at some pa¬ 
ces distant; but no sooner does he discover 
your approach, than he sets up a sudden 
and vehement outcry, flying oflf and scream¬ 
ing with all his might. His notes, a stran¬ 
ger might readily mistake for the repeated 
creakings of an ungreased wheelbarrow.— 
All these he accompanies with various nods, 
jerks, and other gesticulations, for which 
the whole tribe of jays aro so remarkable. 
The blue jay builds a large nest on a ce¬ 
dar or apple tree. His favorite food is 
chestnuts, aconia. and corn. Ho 
sometimes feeds on bugs amo caterpillars, 
and often plunders orchards, cherr}’’ roAVS, 
and potato patches. He spreads alarm and 
sorrow around him, by robbing the nests 
I did so, and discovered that 
it proposed to place the District Schools 
back on the old stingy ground which they 
occupied for years.” Yes, sir, back on those 
days of old log school houses, Avhen little 
scholars could Avrite their names. Again, 
he says:—“Only Avitness the hand-Avriting 
and signatures of those wealthy petitioners 
and compare them with those of our little 
scholars in our old log school houses.”— 
Now if the writer means anything by the 
aboA'c, he proves that., legislation, and the 
State appropriation to Common Schools, has 
been an injury to them, for those days of 
old log school houses, when boys could 
write their names, were previous to those 
enactments. av. 
Remarks. —Friend W. and we are agreed 
that education is a good thing, and that it 
should be possessed by all, whether high 
or loAV, rich or poor, and that future place 
and condition in society, as Avell as useful¬ 
ness and enjoyment, depend very much up¬ 
on tlie kind and degree of early training.— 
Thus far we arc agreed; but no sooner do 
we enter upon the discussion of the means 
requisite to put all into the possession of 
this “ good thing,” than there arises a dif¬ 
ference of opinion—one claiming that the j 
Free School system is the best ever devi¬ 
sed to accomplish the result—the other that 
it is, if not the Avorst, one of the Avorstiever 
sought out and planned by man. 
We do not believe that the “powers that 
be,” in this Free Republic have a right to 
punish such as become oftenders through 
its neglect to provide the means for such 
intellectual and moral culture as is calcula- 
I ted to deter from the committal of crime. 
We deem no system of Schools yet dcA'ised 
so Avell calculated to do this Avork of govern¬ 
ment as Free Schools. For this reason Ave 
have iterated, and our correspondents have 
“re-iterated the beneficial effects of Free 
Schools in various parts of the Avorld.”— 
This has been done also to shoAv that Ave 
arc not advocating an untried theory, but 
one “ the beneficial effects” of Avhich stand 
out prominently to vicAV Avherever it has 
been tested. Facts show' conclusively in 
the history of the Avorld, that no nation can 
long exist Avithout virtue, intelligence and 
morality. We regard the system of Free 
Schools, as the only plan Avhich government 
can employ to protect, preserve and per¬ 
petuate itself. 
men and tlieir doings, and 
ere long we can point to a consummate 
Avretch tliat Avould drain your life-blood to 
enhance his own interests. 
»^Such are associations. How enrapturing 
are the associations of a rural life. To be i 
great is to be good; and to be good is to 
possess a nice sense of responsibility to the 
Great Author of good, and lo trace out and 
follow the many patliways of Nature, dis- 
cemable only to the penetrating eye, that 
concentrate in heaven. 
There is more music in the tiny notes of 
the song-bird than in all the hum-drum in¬ 
struments created Avitli the ingenious minds 
and hands of men. The chirp of the crick¬ 
et is a pleasing song: what emotions of 
pleasure tlirill through the soul, Avhen she 
tunes her lays of days gone by, of the great 
old-fashioned fireside with its happy mem¬ 
bers sitting around—how mournfully she 
sings her dirge over tlie form of him or her 
that noAv sleeps the sleep of deatli! 
is not music — 
Ah! Avho says that this 
his own soul will deny it Even the slimy 
toad, “ the hideous thing,” sends forth its 
melody from the dismal swamp, the putrid 
.spot Avhere Nature corrupts and Avastes 
away, teaching us the wise lesson, that from 
bad can arise good. The pearly streamlet 
goes singing joyously along, here, breathing 
out its softest lays as it embraces each little 
blade of grass that drops its modest head 
to receive tlie nectar kiss, and tliere, goes 
bounding, babbling over its pebbly bed, 
playing its antics in this little nook, w'hirl- 
ing round and round, then rushing headlong 
over that little ledge, tAvirling in the eddy 
beloAA', crazy Avith its own delight, until lost 
m the SAvelled deep stream that hastens 
madly on tOAvard tho great lake that shall 
drink it up. 
There is more pleasure in rearing the 
tender plant than there is in constructing a 
palace. Day by day glides along and sees 
each little tendril stretch forth its tiny arms 
to grasp around the firm pillar placed to 
bear it up, illustrating our dependency up¬ 
on each other. Week by week drags heav¬ 
ily by, cement placed upon stone, stone up¬ 
on cement, an object of harassing care, that 
requires toil, time and money—a tornado 
may demolish it, a fire may raze it Avith the 
ground. The one is computed Avitli dollars 
and cents, the other yields a pleasure that 
money cannot buy. 
Thc’-e is more beauty in the simplest 
thing of earth than in the most magnificent 
fabric, that would dazzle the eyes to behold. 
same scene of innocence and hope, in whose 
veins runs the same blood, do we not find 
that years only make more sacred and more 
important the tie that binds us ? Coldness 
may spring up, distance may separate, dif¬ 
ferent spheres may divide; but those who 
can love anything, who continue to love at 
all, must find that the friends whom God 
himself gave, are wholly unlike any we can 
choose for ourselves, and that the yearning 
for these is the strongest spark in our expi¬ 
ring affection.” 
Sew'ard Female Seminary. —We call 
the attention of our rural friends, Avho have 
daughters that they Avish to send abroad to 
school, to tlie advertisement of this Institu¬ 
tion. Its location is one of the finest in this 
region—happily combining the retirement 
and salubrity of the country Avith the prom¬ 
inent advantages of the city. The expen¬ 
ses are moderate—the course of instruction 
thorough, systematic and practical—and, in 
tine, Ave knoAv not a more desirable Board¬ 
ing School in Western Ncav York. 
Once there was one who pahited for eter¬ 
nity. Would there were those now who 
Avould sing for eternity. There cannot be 
conceived a more ecstatic pleasure than to 
be present in .some immense congregation 
actuated by this spirit, singing together the 
praises of their Redeemer. The little arts 
of display Avould be absorbed in the majes¬ 
ty of devotion, and the music itself would 
partake of a celestial sweetness, not to be 
produced by any other cause. 
Most sinners seem to serve the devil for 
pay, but profane SAvearers are a sort of vol¬ 
unteers Avho get nothing for their labor. 
