MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY JOURNAL, 
Thursday .—55 lines Hebrew; 8 lines Syriac; 11 
hours forging. 
Friday .—Unwell ; 12 hours forging. 
Saturday. —Unwell; 50 pages Natural Philoso¬ 
phy; 10 hours forging. 
Sunday .—Lesson for Bible class.” 
In the next year his advantages were 
rather better, and he acquired anaong other 
languages, the Cclto-Brcton—finding in the 
library, books in that tongue presented by 
the Royal Antiquarian Society of Paris, to 
the President of which, he addressed a let¬ 
ter in that language, eliciting a very compli¬ 
mentary reply, with the Transactions of the 
Society and other interesting documents. 
With the liope of gaining employment 
as a translator, he wrote to a gentleman 
whom he thought might assist him, giving 
him a short account of his life and present 
purpose. This letter, it will be remembered 
by many, was sent to Gov. Everett, who 
read it at a public meeting, and our subject 
all at once, found himself “ laboring under 
notoriety.” He had many proffers of assist¬ 
ance, but hq preferred to pursue his old 
course —to continue in the ranks of the 
For the Rural New-Yorker. [ 
THE VOICES OF THE PAST. 
How sweetly to the ever-attentive ear of 
Fancy come, with a varied music, the nev¬ 
er dying Voices of the Past, We listen to 
them with a solemn earnestness, as with'a 
spirit of calm appealing they call up the 
feelings of the heart and make musical the 
slumbering lyre of the soul with the deep 
inspiration of waking memories. 
We can go back and live life over again 
through the spirit's fancy, and its young 
days will bloom with precious beauty. But it 
is a dream!—yet in that dream is a heaven, 
and the heart loves it for its ideal associa¬ 
tions which time alone has robbed of their 
reality. 0! it is a heaven that broods o’er 
the timid soul as it seeks with a weary 
wing, a refuge wherein to repose and dream 
once more of the fair and beautiful. 
Long years may have fled by, yet like 
the light that hides its color in the rose, 
they linger in fond, sweet memories only 
to wing undying fancies with a hallowed 
brightness. The youth of life must fade, 
its hours of pleasant mirthfulness, and its 
little cares must turn upon the rolling | 
wheel of time—yet they are never out of 
sight, and their spirits come back to us 
whispering in our charmed ears, a ceaseless 
farewell, like the sun when it leaves us at 
but lingers with the stars, and 
comes stealing dimly through the sky to 
touch our eyes with a golden beauty, so 
they may beam with the unforgotten.— 
How'often do we go back through an in¬ 
stinctive attraction, as it were, to play amid 
our young life’s scenes—go back when our 
infant feet mated with the spring-born flow¬ 
ers or gamboled along some streamlet’s gold¬ 
en shore. We hear again our voices of 
glee thrilling the green-wood air, or ming¬ 
ling with the young bird’s songs; or, per¬ 
chance, may hear the music of some pass¬ 
ing dream we dreamt when our first fan¬ 
cies struck the lyre of love, and glittered 
with the dawning light of happiness. 
We may turn back where we first wan¬ 
dered beneath spring’s blooming boughs, 
and caught the living harmony of each ten¬ 
der blossom that w'ooed the willing bee re¬ 
turning for his dessert sweets his cheerful 
song of toil,—or we may treasure yet the 
sounds our hearts love when merry birds 
or murmuring streams, gave tuneful witch¬ 
ery to the winds that struggled with a frol¬ 
ic airiness, as if their wings had been pois¬ 
ed in heaven and then came down, shed¬ 
ding a strange chorus of silver cadences.— 
Ah! such sweet and pleasant scenes can 
never be forgotten! Fancy with golden 
THE LANDING OF THE PILGRIMS. 
A bark is on the heaving deep, 
By cold New England’s wintry land; 
And tossing with each billow’s sweep,. 
It nears at length the rocky strand. 
And grateful hearts are beating high. 
As first they tread the frozen sod. 
• A.nd hail as’Nlest the Land and sky. 
That give ” free worship of tlieir God.' 
[D. W. Chapman. 
The memory of great events is frequent- 
kept up by the annual celebration of the 
Its observance 
day of their occurrence, 
serves to recall to the memory of the pres¬ 
ent generation the acts and feelings of those 
of the past. 
Such a day (Dec. 22d) is the one which 
now dawns upon us, and which the descend¬ 
ants of those venerable pilgrims should ev¬ 
er hold in sacred remembrance. May we 
offer some reflections connected with this 
day 231 years ago. 
The history of - the colonization of New 
England is a history of unexampled hard¬ 
ships. Forced by religious persecution to 
leave their country, they first found an 
asylum in Holland, where by their exem¬ 
plary deportment they secured the esteem 
of all who knew them. Various considera¬ 
tions, at length induced them to leave that 
country. Accordingly, in 1018 they appli¬ 
ed to the London and South Virginia com¬ 
pany for a grant of land in America. 
In their application they observed in he 
quaint style of those times: that they were 
weaned from the delicate milk of the moth¬ 
er country, and inured to the difficulties of 
a strange land; that they were knit togeth¬ 
er by a sacred band, by virtue of which 
they hold themselves bound to take good 
care of each other and of the whole;—that 
it was not with them as with other men 
whom small things could discourage, or 
small discontents cause them to wish them¬ 
selves home again. 
They succeeded in obtaining a grant, and 
in September, 1620, one hundred and one 
persons set sail for Hudson’s River, but they 
were carried farther north, and the first 
land they discovered was Cape Cod. That 
this was beyond the limits of the London 
Coinpany.they were aware, but the season 
was so far advanced that it was too late 
again to put to sea. Before landing they 
formed a strictly Democratic Government^ 
and John Carver was elected the first 
Governor. 
On the 11th of Dec. (0. S.) they landed 
upon a “ stern and rock-bound coast.” They 
found the climate much more severe than 
any they had before experienced, and they 
sought to protect themselves from it by 
building huts, in which they passed the 
winter,—at least those -wLo survived it. By 
the succeding spring, exhausted by continu¬ 
al suffering and the privation of every com¬ 
fort to which they had been accustomed, 
one half of their number had perished. 
Such was die beginning wdiich has pro- 
produced so great results. The descend¬ 
ants cf the Pilgrim Fathers, and of those 
who followed their example, compose most 
of the people who fill the New England, 
Middle and Western States. To their stern 
virtues we owe those distinguishing traits 
which mark us as a nation, and as one of 
the first nations of the earth. 
Let'us then keep their names in hallow¬ 
ed remembrance, and imitate their virtues, 
that we may ever remain a good and happy 
people. Let us cherish that stern regard 
for right principles which nerved them in 
their course, and we need not fear for the 
stability of the Union. j. ii. n. 
which he pursued as arduously as ever—in ( 
writing for various periodicals, and in the ^ 
winter in lecturing, with great acceptability | 
in our principal large cities. < 
In 1844, having «aved a few hundred ^ 
dollars he commenced the publication at ) 
Worcester of his paper, Burritt’s Chnatian ; 
Citizen, devoted to Religion, Peace, and oth- > 
er reforms of the day. June, 1845, he left | 
America for England, where he coiiiirienced ; 
the agitation of the scheme of a grand i 
Peace League,—uniting all nations in the ^ 
bonds of universal brotherhood,—and hast- ^ 
ening on the reign of “peace and good } 
wHl to men.” . > 
Mr. Burritt is at present in Europe, we | 
believe, pursuing his favorita scheme, where ^ 
he is well received by the highest as well i 
as the lowest. Of his character, Mary ^ 
Howitt, finely remarks:—“His many-lan- ^ 
guaged head is wedded to a large and be- ( 
nevolent heart, every throb of which is a s 
sentiment of brotherhood to all mankind.— t 
[ Like an apostle of peace and good-will, he, ^ 
has come among us.with the clasped handi $ 
I of his cognizance, as the teacher and pro- S 
1 mulgator of Christ's own doctrine of love,” ) 
evening: 
ELIHU «URRirr, THE ‘‘LEARNED BLACKSMITH, 
We this week present the readers of the < 
Rural New-Yorser a portrait and brief ' 
sketch of one of the most “ remarkable men : 
of this remarkable age,”— Elihu Burritt, ' 
the “ Learned Blacksmith.” 
Although the history of this eminently 
self-educated man is fiimiliar to most of our 
readers, a recapitulation of the important 
events of his life will be interesting to all, 
and may prove an incentive to those young 
men of limited means, who are determined to 
achieve success, notwithstanding the obsta¬ 
cles which retard their advancement 
The perseverance of the subject of our 
sketch—the manly independence which in¬ 
duced him to labor at the forge and anvih 
and thus to earn-by honest toil his daily 
bread, while pursuing and obtaining a 
knowledge of languages rarely understood 
by the most favored, instead of accepting 
the aid of the rich and influential—is not 
only highly honorable, but presents an ex¬ 
ample worthy of imitation by every young 
and indigent American. 
Elihu Burritt was born at New Britain, 
Conn., on the 8th day of December, 181-1. 
His family are described as possessing 
the virtues of the Puritan race,—as the 
benefactors of the poor and infirm of the 
neighborhood. Elihu was the youngest of 
five sons, and was privileged to remain at 
home with his parents in their declining 
years. “At sixteen,” says his biographer, 
“he had arrived at the full stature and 
strength of a man.” At this age he uni¬ 
ted with the Congregational Church of 
which he continues a member. About this [ 
time, also, his father’s first and last illness | 
commenced, hasting nearly a year. “ This \ 
excellent son labored through the day in 1 
the field or the forest, and then w^atched ! 
through half the night at the bedside of his 
fiither that his mother might be enabled to 
take necessary rest.” 
“ After his father’s death he apprenticed himself 
to a blacksmith of the town; the only school edu¬ 
cation he had as yet received, being three months 
at a district school during the winter, before he was 
fifteen. Of far greater importance, howev^er, than 
this scanty tuition, was the keen appetite for read¬ 
ing which iept his mind awake ; and which was 
doubtless stimulated by the difficulty he had in 
procuring books.” 
He continued working at bis trade until 21. 
years of age, living with bis brother, who 
taught a school, and who advised him at 
the expiration of that time to give himself 
for :i season entirely to study. He did so 
for six months, becoming in that tinie well 
versed in mathematics, and going through 
Virgil and several French authors. To make 
up for this respite from toil, he returned to 
his anvil, engaging to do two men’s work for 
double wages. He accomplished this iu 
fourteen hours application per day, and yet 
found time for a few pages of Latin and- 
French, morning and evening. He looked 
into Spanish, and thought of attacking Greek. 
The view which he had gained of the 
vast intellectual world—though an unknown 
THE FABTIAL CAT. 
The story of “ The Religious Dog” in the 
Congregationalist of September 27th, bro’t 
to my remembrance a scarcely less remark¬ 
able cat, that recently belonged to an aTint 
of mine, from whose lips I had the following 
and many other interesting details. Now 
my aunt is one of the best of women, the 
widow of a clergyman, not a hundred miles 
from Boston, who would not for the world 
state what was not strictly true, and her cat, 
if not “ religious” was a great favorite in the 
family, and endowed with some qualities 
not usually credited to her humble species. 
Puss, at one time, had a very interesting 
family of little kittens. They were all bright 
and active, but one of them was observed 
to have a greater resemblance to its mother 
than the rest, and was indeed the prettiest 
kitten of 'the whole, and the mother showed 
a peculiar attachment to it. A neighbor 
begged one of them of my aunt, and being 
allowed her choice, selected the fayorifce and 
carried it home. All this occurred in the 
absence of the feline mother, who, on her 
return, evidently observed with concern the 
absence of her pet. She immediately com¬ 
menced searching the house and out build¬ 
ings, insisted on having the doors open for 
her admission to all the rooms in the house, 
and when satisfied that it was not on the 
premises, she instituted a similar search 
through the neighborhood. Occasionally 
she would return to her remaining little 
ones for the purpose of meeting their de¬ 
mands on her for nourishment, and then 
she would renew the search for her lost fa¬ 
vorite. Having- explored the premises of 
all the new neighbors, she at length enter¬ 
ed the last house in the village, where she 
finally found the object of her long and 
persevering pursuit. She caressed it with 
every manifestation of maternal fondness 
and delight, fed it, and then, much to the 
surprise of the lady of the house, took her 
departure, leaving the kitten behind. She 
was not, however, long absent In a few 
hours she returned, bringing one of her 
other kittens in her mouth, which she placed 
on the floor beside the newly found. Ah! 
thought the lady—so I am to have the 
mother and all her progeny quartered upon 
me. This, however was not the intention 
of the cat, for after caressing the kitten she 
had brought, for a few moments, she took 
the other in her mouth and carried it to its 
former home, and never afterwards visited 
the one she had given in exchange for it.— 
Congregationalist. 
We never saw these hermits of the ocean 
look more delicate and delicious than they 
do now. Our appetite for them is steio- 
pendous. friars of the deep—how we 
love to open the stiff-hinged doors of their 
pearly dwellings, and then bolt them—not 
the doors, but the tenants. And the odor 
of the sputtering animal as he undergoes 
the martyrdom of St. Lawrence—roasting 
on a gridiron! Ah! there’s nothing like a 
roasted oyster, after all. A fried oyster is 
very good- to be sure, walled up in a rich 
cement of egg and biscuit powder, and 
served with a cold schlaugh. What a pret¬ 
ty landscape it makes — the fine amber 
brown of the fried bivalve, the beautiful fo¬ 
liage formed by the sliced cabbage, the gol¬ 
den river of Italian oil, so pure and fragrant, 
and the orange-tinted cayenne specking the 
whole like a shower of sunbeams! What 
a prospect for an epicure! 
There are no oysters that ever lay in 
beds, equal to American oysters. The Eng¬ 
lish “ Miltons,” about which they they make 
so much fuss, are “ Inglorious Miltons!’ 
(Gray—ahem!) compared with ours. In 
fact, 
” No pearl ever lay under ocean’s green -ivaters” 
equal to the fresh corpse of a newly open¬ 
ed Blue Point, Shrewsbury, or Saddle Rock. 
The Mediterranean oyster, about which the 
Roman Epicures made such a coil, might 
do very well for such land lubbers as Api- 
coius and Lucullus, but you can’t come it 
over the marines with any such counterfeits 
of the genuine article. In the first place 
you might put one of them in your hollow 
tooth, and in the next place there is no more 
flavor in them than there is in an egg plant, 
nor so much. The fact is that Nature’s 
journeymen made all the European oystere; 
and if they had forgot the hinges it would 
not have mattered, for the enclosures are 
not worth the trouble of prying them back. 
!N^ature herself in her most epicurean mood, 
populated our bij^'s and estuaries with these 
bonne bouches of Neptune’s cellars, and 
therefore—but hold, the theme is getting 
too affecting. Waiter, a dozen roasted. 
The last Insurance Experiment. —The 
Railway Passenger Assurance Company, of 
London, has been successful. They issued 
iu the year ending July, 25,000 first class 
tickets, making a total of 60,000. The pre¬ 
miums received ddring' the last half year, 
amount to £2087, and for the previous half 
year, £1321, showing an increase of £666. 
The entire receipts ^the year were £3,- 
508. The expendil^e, including some 
sums paid for compensation to parties in¬ 
jured, amounts to £2,480. At the recent 
semi-annual meeting of tho*lKompany, it was 
stated that the profits wouM yield 8 per 
cent on the capital. Tickets to railway pas¬ 
sengers are now issued on thirty-two of the 
principal lines of the Kingdom, and the 
rates of insurance are a premium of 3 
pence to insure £1,000 to a first class pas¬ 
senger—two pence to insure £500 to a 
second class passenger, and one penny to 
insure £200 to a third class passenger. 
Merit is like the crimson blush on a 
maiden’s cheek—for the more you strive to 
conceal it, the more discernible it is, 
