MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY JOURNAL. 
dfalngi} for /urnirrs. 
GEOLOGY.-DEFINITION OF TEEMS.* 
Rocks are divided into two gi’eat classes 
viz : stratified and unstratified. 
Stratification consists of tlie division of a 
rock into regular parallel planes or leaves, 
varying in thickness from that of thin paper, 
to several yards. Strata are often tortuous 
and variable in thickness in different parts of 
the same lamina or layer; “nevertheless, the 
fundamental idea of stratification, is that of 
parallelism in the layers.” “ The term stra¬ 
tum is sometimes employed to designate the 
whole mass of a rock, while its parallel sub¬ 
divisions are called beds, or layers.” So 
also of sand, clay, gravel, &c. 
The term bed is n^ed to designate a layer 
or mass of rock mo; - or 1 ss irregular, len¬ 
ticular or wedge shaped, lying between the 
layers of another rock -such as beds of coal, 
gypsum or iron. 
Fig. 1. 
Without lamina. 
With waved lami¬ 
na. 
Finely laminated. 
Obliquely laminal- 
r — ' — Parallel lamina. 
“A seam is a thin layer of rock that sep¬ 
arates the beds or strata of another rock, as 
a seam of coal, limestone, &c.” 
A joint is a separation of rocks, both 
stratified and unstratified, into masses of 
some determinate shape: joints are more or 
less parallel, and usually cross the beds ob¬ 
liquely. 
Cleavage planes are divisions in rocks, 
which do not coincide with those of strati¬ 
fication, lamination or joints. They are sup¬ 
posed to result from a crystaline arrange¬ 
ment of the particles of the rock. 
Fig. 2. Cleavafre Planes. 
lFig .2 exhibits the planes of stratification, B, B,—the 
joints A, A, A, A, and the slaty cleavage, d, d.] 
Horizontal strata are those which have 
little or jio inclination, but lie parallel with 
the horizon: this position, however, is rare, 
almost all strata being more or less inclined. 
Fig. 3. Horizontal Strata. 
The dip of strata signifies the angle which 
they form wfith the horizon. 
Outcrop. —When strata are uncovered 
above the surface, or protrude from the side 
of a hill so as to be visible, they are said to 
crop out. 
Fig. 4. Dij) and Outcrop. 
An escarpment is formed when strata ter¬ 
minate abruptly, so as to form a precipice. 
A fault in a rock is the dislocation of 
strata, so that their continuity is destroyed, 
and a series of strata on one or both sides 
of the fracture are forced from their origi¬ 
nal position and raised one above another, 
or moved laterally. Faults are generally 
filled with clay, sand and fragments of oth¬ 
er rocks. 
A gorge is a wide and open fissure or 
fault: when still wider, with sloping sides 
and rounded at the bottom, it is called a 
valley. 
A dyke is Fig. 5. A Dyke. 
a mass or 
wall of rockpji 
interposed be ^ 
tween the 
ends of a dis¬ 
location, so 
as to break their continuity: dykes rarely 
send off branches. 
Veins are portions of rock smaller than 
dykes, proceeding from some large mass, 
and ramifying through a rock of a different 
kind. Metallic veins were originally melted 
metals, which were injected into the fissures 
and crevices of rocks by some subterranean 
force. 
Fossil. —This term includes those petrified re¬ 
mains of plants and animals which are found in 
alluvium, or imbedded in solid rock, and constitu¬ 
ting part of its structure. 
Formations. —The term formation is used to 
designate a group of rocks having some character 
in common—either in relation to age, origin or 
composition. Every formation consists of several 
varieties of rock, all agreeing in certain qualities, 
and occupying such relative situations as to indicate 
that they were formed during the same period and 
under similar circumstances. Thus we speak 
of graywacke formation, gneiss formation, coal 
formation, &c. 
* An extract from Uie second edition of “ Secientific Ag- 
ri''nltiire, or ttie Elements of Chemistry, Geology, Botany 
; 'iToteorology, applied to Practical Agriculture: by M. 
i • isriERS, M. I).” —just published by Erastus Uar- 
i.inv, corner of Main and St. Paul sts., Rochester. 
From the Knickerbocker Magazine. 
SONNET. 
A RAIXY UAY IN THE COUNTRY. 
I LOVE in summer a rainy day, 
When steadily and slowly patters down 
Upon the sun parched fields, and fallows brown 
The welcome burden of tlie cloudlets gray. 
With IxKik in hand 1 take my silent way 
Unto my chamber, where the pleasant sound 
Of rain upon the roof can sooth and drown 
My soul in dreamy thoughts — nor sad, nor gay. 
I wake to read, and read to sleep again; 
My dreams are filled with fancies from my Iiook, 
Till tired of too much ease I wake in pain, 
And sighing it away, on Nature look; 
’Tis sunshine after storm, who can complain 
W'hen greener arc lhegroves,and faster flows tlie brook? 
Royalton, N. Y. j. u. b. 
For the Rural New-Yorker. 
THE BEAUTY AND VAEIETY OF NATUEE.— 
ITS UNNOTICED WONDEES. 
To those unvitiated minds which can 
truly appreciate the pleasant pictures of 
wisdom spread out for universal contempla¬ 
tion, the observation and comparison of the 
exhaustless variety exhibited in the works 
of Nature opens a boundless field of enjoy¬ 
ment. All solids which meet the eye, and 
compose the crust and drapery of the globe, 
belong either to the Animal, Vegetable, or 
Mineral Kingdoms, and each kingdom — 
especially those possessing vitality—is divid¬ 
ed into numerous* orders, more numerous 
classes, and a great variety of species or 
genera, while the,myriad individuals each 
have specific differences, more or less obser¬ 
vable. 
Almost all natural objects possess in 
themselves an innate beauty which strikes 
the mind of every beholder, but this attri¬ 
bute is heightened and intensified by a com¬ 
parison of their resemblances and differ¬ 
ences— by the possession and use of the 
power of giving each its proper pdsition in 
the species, class, order and kingdom of 
which it is a member with a full under¬ 
standing of the reasons therefor. But most 
of all do Ave see their beauty and utility as 
we study their uses, and become acquaint¬ 
ed Avith the super-human skill—the Divine 
wisdom displayed in their organizations, and 
the adaptation to every part as a means to 
some valuable end — some wonderful pro¬ 
duct or result. 
The study of Mineralogy and Animal 
and Vegetable Physiology, gives us an in¬ 
sight into the wonders and beauties around 
us, and the meanest capacity, can it distin¬ 
guish one metal, animal, or plant from oth¬ 
ers, has made a commencement in the sci¬ 
ence; and he who can classify at sight 
every thing yet known and catalouged, has 
not attained a height where the inexhausti¬ 
ble variety of Nature gives not an exten¬ 
sive and ever extending field for new dis¬ 
coveries. 
When we hear of the strange and beau¬ 
tiful objects seen in foreign climes, Ave envy 
perhaps the large opportunities for observa¬ 
tion Avhich the traveler possesses, forgetful 
that “unnoticed wonders” croAvd and beck¬ 
on on every hand. 
“ We gaze 
With awe or admiration on Uie new 
And unfamiliar, but pass coldly by 
The lovelier and the weigliticr”— 
and, Avhile the love of the wonderful and 
sublime is an almost universal passion, Ave 
lose much that would minister to its grati¬ 
fication by our dullness of perception. We 
are like Wordsworth’s “Peter Bell”— 
“ A primrose by the river’s brim, 
A yellow primrose was to him. 
And nothing more.” 
Its form and fragrance raised no new ideas 
—excited no thoughts of the Avonders 
thronging around it, yet to the eye of Dr. 
Good, a little floAver proves the existence 
and shows the attributes of the Deity. No 
power and Avisdom but His could have form¬ 
ed an object so apparently simple and yet 
so intricate as a common daisy. 
We hear Avith astonishment of the vault¬ 
ed dome of St. Peter’s at Rome, and Avon- 
der still more at the sublime magnificence 
of the Mammoth Cave of Kentucky—yet 
think not “ how subliraer God’s bltip cano¬ 
py,” and look unmoved upon the'glorious 
sun, the mild majestic moon, and on the 
stars — 
“ Floating on high like Islands of the Blest”— 
infinitely more astonishing than any thing 
Avithin our human conception. 
With wondering awe we look upon the 
vast 'column of water pouring over the 
mountain precipice of Niagara—yet think 
not of the mysterious deAV, which comes si¬ 
lently at eventide, a blessing to all Nature, 
wasting not its treasures on the hard or 
dusty path, yet refreshing the verdure at 
its side. It is strange too, that the magnetic 
needle always points toward the polar stiu- 
— but is it not equally curious that many 
ffowers make the sun their cynosure?— ; 
keeping, like the Parsec, their admiring i 
eyes ever fixed upon it. 
Ah! AA'onders reveal themselves to a 
mind “ on the lookout,” in a blade of grass, 
a grain of sand, a rough pebble, or a little 
insect; and a mind active and ready to in- : 
vestigate can find lessons of pleasure and 
sources of wisdom in every thing God has 
created. ' 
Sources of pleasure to the soul that thrills ^ 
In unison with Nature, may lie found 
On every side. The song of merry bird. 
The chirp of cricket or the hum of bee 
Can please the car that loves a friendly voice;— 
And the sweet sunshine, and the clouds that glow ' 
With varied colors, and the pale mild moon 
And the bright beauty of the living stars. 
Speak to the eye and bid the heart rejoice. 
To such a kindly glance is full of bliss, 
A friendly smile makes glad, and joy is found 
In much that meets us on the path of life— 
In small familiar things which founts become. 
Welling sweet waters to the thirsty soul. 
Royalton, July, 1850. j.h.b. 
THE CHUECH AND THE TAVEEN. 
BY LAURIE TODD. 
In the year 1793, when Louis XVI 
was beheaded, and the French Revolution 
was in full blast, I Avas a thorough-going 
radical. With scA-'enteen more of our club, 
I was marched, under a guard of the King’s 
officers, and lodged in Edinburgh jail. Af¬ 
ter a summary hearing, I got liberty to ban¬ 
ish myself, and accordingly I took passage 
in the good ship Providence, and landed at 
New York in June, 1794. I was then in 
my twenty-second year. When the ship 
cast off from the wharf, in Scotland, and 
swung round Avith the breeze, my father 
stood upon the shore. He Avaved a last 
adieu, and exclaimed, “ Remember the Sab¬ 
bath day.” I arrived at NeAv York on a 
Saturday, and, the next day being the Sab¬ 
bath, at 9 o’clock, A. M., three young men 
of our company called at my lodgings. 
“ Where are you going to-day ?” they in¬ 
quired. 
“ To the church,” I replied. 
“We have been ten AV'eeks at sea; our 
health requires exercise. Let us walk out 
to-day, and go to church next Sabbath,” 
they replied. 
Said I, “you can go where you please, 
but I’ll go to church; the last words I heard 
from my father Avere, ‘ Remember the Sab¬ 
bath day;’ and, had I no respect for the 
Fourth Commandment, I have not yet for¬ 
gotten his last advice.” 
They Avent to the fields; I went to the 
church; they spent 40 or 50 cents in the 
tavern; T put a one penny bill in the plate, 
at the morning, afternoon and night service: 
total, three pence. They continued going 
into the country, and in process of time the 
landlady’s daughter, and the landlady’s 
niece, would join their company. Then 
each couple hired a gig, at $2 a day; Avinc, 
cake and ice cream on the road, fifty cents 
each; dine at Jamaica, ^1 each. They got 
home at 8 o’clock, P. M., half drunk, and, 
having been caught in a thunder show-er, 
their coats, hats and mantles, were damaged 
fifty per cent. They rose the next morning 
at 9 o’clock, A. M., Avith sore heads, sore 
hearts, muddy boots and an angry con¬ 
science, besides $12 lighter than Avhen they 
started. I Avent to church, rose at 5 o’clock, 
A. M.; head sound, heart light, bones re¬ 
freshed, conscience quiet, and commenced 
the labors of the Aveek in peace and plenty. 
They Avere all mechanics; some of them 
could earn $12 a Aveek. My business, that 
of a wrought nail-maker, was poor; the cut 
nail machines had just got into operation, 
whfch cut down my Avages to a shaving.— 
With close application, I could only earn 
$5,50 per Aveek. NcA’er mind, at the end 
of the year, my Sabbath-riding ship-mates, 
had fine coats, fine hats, powdered heads, 
and ruffled shirts; but I had one hundred 
hard dollars piled in the corner of my chest. 
Having lived fast, they died early. Nearly 
forty Avinters are past, and forty summers 
ended, since the last Avas laid in the Potters 
or other field; while I, having received from 
my maker a good constitution, (and com¬ 
mon sense to take care of it,) I’m as sound 
in mind, body and spint, as I was on this 
day 56 years ago, Avhen first I set my foot 
on shore at Governeur’s wharf, NeAV York. 
Besides, it’s a fact, (for which my family 
can vouch,) I have been only one day con¬ 
fined to the house by sickness, during all 
that period. 
Now, Mr. Printer, I dare say you think, 
Avith me, that the church on the Sabbath is 
better than the tavern and fields for the la¬ 
boring man. 
Stability. —Mr. Emerson, in one of his 
lectures, tells a story to exemplify the sta¬ 
bility of things in England. He says that 
William of Wykeham, about the year 1150, 
endowed a house in the neighborhood of 
Winchester to proA’ide a measure of beer 
and a sufficiency of bread to every one Avho 
asks it, forever; and Avhen Mr. Emerson 
AA'as in England, he Avas curious to test this 
good man’s credit and he knocked at the 
door, preferred his request, and received 
his measure of beer and quantum of bread, 
though its donor had been dead 700 years. 
SELECTIONS FOE NEWSPAPEES. 
BATHING. 
from the galleys at Toulouse. He was that the latter from their greater curvature 
strong and vigorous, and soon made his Avay of shape, require rather Ie.ss Avater to fill 
across the country and escaped pursuit.— 
He arrived the next morning before a cot- 
Let us repeat our advice to every individ- 
tage in an open field, and stopped to beg ual to bathe frequently, and in giving such 
something to eat and concealment Avhile he counsel Ave are contributing more to the 
reposed a little. But he found the inmates health and happiness of mankind, than we 
of the cottage in the greatest distress. Four could in forty lectures on phrenology, ani- 
little children sat trembling in a corner, mal magnetism, or many similar topics of 
theis mother Avas Aveeping and tearing her hair fashionable discussion. 
and the father walking the floor in agony. --- 
The galley slave asked what Avas the mat- ONLY ONE BEICK ON ANOTHEE. 
ter, and the father replied that they Avere , T. , , u -i r 
that morning to bo turned out of doirs be- 
cause they could not pay their rent. “You ‘'“7 7"“ P'““g '■P. J'f opposite 
see me driven to desmirsaid the father, " .'““T' a ° 
“my wife and little children without food “ Y ‘‘L, ’’ m 
or ielter, and I without the means to pro- *■= b™!:* “"d 
vide any for them.” The convict listened ‘h«7™P" 
^ _ . _ .. , , . l-iic tJiT.nr^r eain ta niin—‘‘ M\r enn trAii 
to this tale with tears of .sympathy, and then 
said:— 
“I will give you means. I have but just Y™ bo thinking 
- - ° - - •’ about ? Have you any notion oi learning 
escaped from the galleys; Avhoever secures , t adc?”*^ 
and takes back an escaped prisoner is en- , 
titled to areAvard of fifty francs. Hoav much . 
does your rent amount to ?" 7’“’ J f ‘ 
“ Forty francs,” amswered the father. is, an 
Most persons think the selection of suit- There is scarcely any thing more con- 
able matter for a newspaper the easiest part ducive to health than frequent bathing.— 
of the business. How great an error I It By removing all obstructions to free perspi- 
is by all means the most difficult. To look ration, they open the pores of the skin and 
over and over hundreds of exchange papers permit all extraneous matter, not congenial 
ever}' Aveek from which to select enough for to health, to escape. One great cause of 
one, especially Avhen the question is, not spring sickness; of the shalloAv complexion, 
what shall, but what shall not be selected, the jaundiced and bilious hue Ave so fre- ^ 
is indeed “ no easy ^k.” If every person quently meet, is the practice of keeping the ( 
Avho reads a ncAvspaper, could have edited body thickly Avrapped during the close Avin- ^ 
it, Ave should hear less complaints. Notun- ter months, and neglecting those daily ab- ( 
frequently is it the case that an editor looks lutions Avhich are requisite to preserve the < 
over all his exchanges for something inter- system in a healthy state. Bathing frequent- ) 
esting, and can absolutely find nothing.— ly in Avinter is requisite to comfort, and in ; 
Every paper is dryer than a contribution summer it is absolutely indispensable. No ( 
box; and yet something must be had—his family ought to be Avithout its bathing tub. ? 
paper must have something in it, and he And, by the bye, Ave ha\'e a Avord to archi- > 
does the best he can. To an editor who tects on this subject Every house design- s 
has the least care about Avhat he selects, ed as a human dAvelling should have a bath- ( 
the writing that he does is the easiest part ing room. This need not be a large and ) 
of his labor. A paper Avhen completed expensii'e apartment, such as Avould in any I 
should be one that the editor would be Avill- considerable degree increase the expense of \ 
ing to read to his Avife, his mother, his sis- the building — it may merely be a closet— ? 
ter, or his daughter; and if he do that» if he five by seven feet, Avould be ample, and > 
gets such a paper, he Avill find his labor a if by opening froin a convenient bed- S 
most difficult one. room, a still less size Avill ansAver the ( 
Every subscriber thinks the paper is purpose. But at any rate let it be a bath, > 
printed for his especial benefit, and if there if it be set in one corner of a room or a i 
is nothing in it that suits him it must be shed. No dwelling house can be regarded ( 
stopped, it is good for nothing. Some peo- as properly finished without one. The ex- I 
pie look over the deaths and marriages, and pense to poor families by Avhom bathing is > 
actually complain of the editor, if but few quite as indispensable as to rich ones, is, we S 
people in the vicinity have been so unfor- know, in their estimation very considerable. } 
tunate as to die, or so fortunate as to get But even in these cases we believe it j 
married the previous week. An editor would be- more than saved, in a single sea- ) 
should have such things in his paper Avheth- son, by their greater exemption from sick- ( 
er they occur or not Just as many sub- ness, and the consequent lessening of the I 
scribers as an editor may have, just so many doctor’s bill, Avhich in many a poor man’s > 
different tastes he has to consult One family is often very great A dozen calls S 
wants stories and poetry; another abhors of the doctor, Avith a few bottles of medi- j 
all this. The politician wants nothing but cine, w'ould engross the price of a good bath, ) 
politics. One must have something sound, and then how much better the members of S 
One likes anecdotes, fun and frolic, and a the family Avould be in the increase of their < 
next door neighbor Avonders that a man of health and vigor, and consequently in their j 
sense Avill put such stuff in his paper.— strength for the performance of labor. The j 
Something spicy comes out and the editor best bathing tubs cost fourteen dollars, but s 
is a blackguard. Next comes something we have no doubt that if the demand Avere j 
argumentative, and the editor is a dull fool, greater they could be afforded at a much ) 
And so betAveen them all, you see the poor less price. They are usually made of double 
felloAV gets roughly handled. And yet, to tin and painted, but perhaps some cheaper 
ninety-nine out of a hundred, these things material, or some means of construction j 
never occur. They never reflect that what might be invented, Avhich Avould render j 
does not please them, may please the next them more accessible to the poor. We have ( 
man, but they insist that if the paper does seen some very neat and convenient ones j 
not suit thetn, it is good for nothing. made of wood by an ingenious carpenter > 
___Avhich might be purchased for about three i 
TEUTH STEANGEE THAN FICHON. f ^ dolkrs. These if Avell painted, and 
- kept carefully cleaned, Avould ansAver the } 
A YOUNG man recently made his escape purpose, perhaps as Avell as the tin ones, only ) 
His father said to him —“My son, you 
seem to be very much taken Avith the brick- 
“No, sir,” said EdAvin, smiling; “but I 
was just thinking Avhat a little thing a brick 
is, and yet that great house is built by only 
“ Well,” said the other, “putacord around ^"^^her. 
, , ’ -r Ml r 11 ^ 1 . ii „ -I . “Very true, my son. Never forgetiL— 
my body. I Avill follow you to the city , 1. • • d , i ah 
i . ‘ri Just so it IS in all great Avorks. All your 
they Avill recognize me, and you Avill get 50 .... ° im*i i mi i + 
r r i, ■ ^ ° learning is only one little lesson added to 
francs for bringing me back.” 11 n n m 
,, T.T 1 • 1 n L„M another. If a man could Avalk all round 
“No, never!” exclaimed the astonished i,, i r . 
.. . ’ 11 1 iM A M the globe, it Avould be only putting one toot 
listener; “ my children should starve a doz- , ^ ° v i i re mil 
1 r*' T 111 I ^1 • » before the other. Your whole life aviU be 
en imes before I would do so base a thing. 
Ihe pnerous young man insisted and „ Jjed to drop makes the oeean. 
declared a last he would p and give liim- f,,„„ ,4 „ot to bo discouraged 
self up if the father Avould not consent to , , , , i r i i i ° 
^ , 1 1 rr by gTcat lubor; tlio greatest labor becomes 
fake him. A ter a long struggle tl,fatter b 
yielded, and taking Ills preserver by be arm ; J’ ^ but stop after step 
ed him to the city and to Ibe imyor s offlee. , J 
Everybody was surprised that a little man , / _ . .__ 
tike the father bad been able to capture such , ““^be\Mbat'Uie wliole of yondt lo^ 
rreE.““Te«J^ onc^a^r.” 
the prisoner sent back to tbe galleys. But a WOED TO IICTLE GIKIS. 
after he Avas gone, the lather asked a pn- - 
vate interjjcw with ,tbc mayor, to Avhom ho Wiio is lovely ? It is the little girl Avho 
told tlnJifeole story. The mayor Avas so drops sweet words, kind remarks, and pleas- 
much aff^ted that he not only added fifty ant smiles, as she passes along—Avho has a 
francs more to the father’s purse, but Avrote kind word of sympathy for every girl or 
immediately to the Minister of Justice, beg- boy she meets in trouble, and a kind hand 
ing the noble young prisoner’s release.— to help her companions out of difficulty— 
The Minister examined into the affair, and Avho never scolds, never contends, and Avho 
finding that it Avas comparatively a small never teazes her mates, nor seeks in any 
offence which had condemned the young otherAvay to diminish, but always to increase 
man to the galleys, and that he had already their happiness. Would it not please you 
served out half his time, he ordered his re- to pick a string of pearls, drops of gold, 
lease. Is not the Avhole incident beautiful ? diamonds, precious stones, as you pass along 
---- the street? But those are the true pearls 
Children are Imitative. — Therefore and precious stones, Avhich can never be 
they should have the best models. And lost. Take the hand of the friendless.-— 
as the best models we can produce are im- Smile on the sad and dejected. Sympatnize 
perfect at best, they will be prone to copy Avith those in trouble. Strive every where 
the imperfections. Hence the uaspeakable to diffuse around you sunshine and joy. If 
importance of striving to set before them a you do this, you will be sure to be loved.— 
good example. Odd Fellow. 
