MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY JOURNAL, 
1 the teacher 
VUVUUV ! WHO UNDERSTOOD HUMAN NATURE. 
BY L. WKTHERELL. BY U ' B ' K08s - 
, x All who are familiar with the edueation- 
al history of this country, must have heard 
something of the lamented Prof. I). P. Page, 
who, during a brief but brilliant career, so 
fixed the impress of his great genius upon 
f/ j . all institutions for the promotion of popular 
education, as to make them an enduring 
' 1 \ monument to his memory. His lectures on 
' " * ' the “Theory and Practice of Teaching,”an 
•• Having light, we seek to impart it.” octavo volume of nearly four hundred pages, 
■. ■— -- : embrace a masterly exposition of the prin- 
SPELLING. ciples involved in that important profession, 
’. ~ , . . , and should be found in the library of eve- 
Tebrb are few subjects in a child s ele- ery practioal teacbeI , 
mentary course of education of greater lm- a hint to the secret of his wonderful in- 
poriance than spelling; and there is none, fiuence over the mind of others, particular- 
probably, in this day of ologies, ics and )y of his pupils, is furnished in the follow- 
isms, more neglected. It is no unusual b *S an ccdote, which, although I heard him 
,,. , . , r . , relate it nearly five years ago, made too m- 
thing now to hear young Misses ten years deliWe an J pressi ’ n not “ to be casi) re . 
old, speak of having forgotten things that produced from memory, 
they should not have been required to “ Having consented,” says Prof. P., “ du- 
study until sixteen years of age, while there ring the early part of my experience as a 
are others that they have not learned, such, teacher, to take charge of a school in, one 
r „ ,, , of the flourishing villages of Massachusetts, 
fof instance, as orthography, —which if they j bad alrcad ^ * ]™ ed for sevcraI 
had, would be of vastly higher importance, wee l; s ; a eradicating a spirit of subordina- 
than the things they have forgotten would tion, which I found had long prevailed, to 
be, though remembered. the great detriment of the school, when I 
It matters little, though one mav speak received an application from an honest look- 
j i j. c i - c ■, , , ing mechanic, to allow his son the privilege 
with the tongue of an angel, if he have not P ,, ’ * - , , ,, ° 
° ° . ot attending my school. The man told me 
a knowledge of the words used, he is as f ra nkly, that his son was, by all comparison 
sounding brass. How many there are who the worst boy in the village—that he had 
talk flippantly, that cannot write a friendly been expelled successively from every school 
epistle, without mis-spelling the most com- ^he vicinity, as totally incorrigible, and 
mi- , , i _ . . i that being unable to control him at home, 
mom words. 1 ms ought not so to be—and , , , & , , , . . e „ 
,, .. ,he had come to seek admission for the 
womd not, if cluldicn weie well drill- re ckless boy into the last school within his 
ed in reading and spelling in all the prima- reach. 
ry schools. Since it has become popular to “ Here was indeed a sad portraiture of 
call these the “ people’s colleges,” in order candidate for admission, and I hesitated 
that they should conform to the name, many sora ™' bat bcfOTe a re P^ Ibowev - 
of the college- studies have been introduced. mencemcIlt of the fon 0w i„ g wee k lie might 
^ he time of teachers has consequently been send his son to me, and I would then de- 
so much occupied by the “ higher studies,” termine what to do. Accordingly, upon 
as they are called, that little has been left the next Monday morning, a healthy, ath- 
for teaching orthography and reading. ^' c looking boy, about fifteen or sixteen 
j ir • • ... , • , vears of age, came wending his way to the 
— Hood spelling is an acquisition which ^ ° ’. . , . J „ r) ... 
. , - , , - r school-room, introducing himself as “ Bill 
must be made in childhood, if ever. Who H use,” the identical youth in question. Af- 
would not have his son or his daughter a ter a brief conversation, during which I had 
good speller? If any let him write. If addressed him in a kind and familiar man- 
none, then it remains to see how this good ncr > be received permission to become a 
is to be attained. If attained at all it must m ®£ ber of the scbo , 01 5 and having assi g a - 
. ed him a seat, and the studies of a class al- 
be by the dint of labor on the part of tlic ready organized> until j shouM bc bctter 
learner, and faithful drilling on the part of acquainted with his attainments, I proceed- 
the teacher. ed with the ordinary duties of the day. 
The pupil as soon as he can write legibly, It was my intention to treat him in such 
should be required to perform bis exercises amanneras t° assure him ot my confidence, 
, • n- , ... ,, , and, if possible avoid a collision, until I 
at recitation m spelling by writing the words . , 1 , ,. , • 7 ’ ,... 
r J ° might be able to discover his good qualities, 
on slate or paper. After the lesson has been —j n any event, to make myself personally 
pronounced by the teacher, and written by acquainted with his real character, 
the class, the instructor may request, that, “Very unfortunately,however,but a few 
the exercises as written, be left for his ex- da y s had elapsed, when in consequence of 
animation, or, he may take the slate from “ SCT f e a ‘ teck ° f , disea f- 1 " as ? bli S ed 10 
, . . x , „ , abandon the school to the care of another, 
the one sitting at either extreme of the temporarily employed to the charge of it. 
class and then require that each shall pass Weeks find even months passed while rack- 
the slate to the right or left, as the order ing pains and scorching fevers had well 
may be. Then some one may be nomina- n igh brought me to the door of death.— 
ted to read aloud the words as written-all during this time I heard frequently from 
, . . , , , , . the school, and “ Bui Huse was fully sus- 
being required to mark such as are mis- (ai • th „ reputation his father had ’ g i ven 
spelled. When this is done each is called } 1 i m> The teacher visited me several times, 
to give an account of the number of words and upon each occasion was resolved that 
whose orthography is incorrect This we “ Bill ” should be driven from the school. — 
have found to be the most successful mode bad do gg ed untd ^ ie plainly saw 
/> . , • . i .. that could be of no benefit; and expulsion 
of teaching spelling, to such as can write. , , r , , .Y . 
° 1 & he believed was the only remedy that re- 
We reserve what we have to say on spelling- mained for the teac her’s relief. 
BY L. WETHERELL. 
“ Having light, we seek to impart it.” 
SFELLING. 
There are few subjects in a child’s ele¬ 
mentary course of education of greater im- 
of teaching spelling, to such as can write, 
We reserve what we have to say on spelling- 
books for another occasion. 
NEW PUBLICATIONS. 
Massachusetts Teacher. • 
“ I begged the man,” continued Prof. P., 
“to allow the boy, if possible, to remain 
until I might be able to resume the charge 
-yy e of the school, which I was fortunately 
, \ » , , , , * , well enough to do not long after our last 
nave received the first number of the fourth i n t erv iew 
volume of this excellent Monthly, edited by 
a committee of the Massachusetts Teachers’ 
“ The pupils welcomed my return, and, 
of course had many little anecdotes to re- 
Association. We commend it to the notice late in reference to what had transpired 
of educators. Published by Samuel Cool- duri “g m y iU ” e ,f’ and particularly of the 
• -i -rj . m ««., ~' conduct of “ Bill Huse,” who had now be- 
ldge, Boston. Terms $1,00. .., , , r ll , , 
_’ come ‘ the observed of all observers. My 
The New-York OBSEi.vER.-Tbc pro- presence was s check upon his movements 
,, ,, . „ , . .. r for several days, during which 1 observed 
pnetors of this excellent family newspaper with great ca / e the different traits 0 f char- 
have greatly enlarged it, so that each num- acter and qualities of mind he seemed, to 
bei now contains nearly one-third more possess, and with which I expected soon to 
reading matter, than last year. It is issued be brought into a more direct contact The 
on a double sheet, printed on new type, time at len S th arri T, ed when something 
.. , ,, , ,, must be done. “ Bill ” had violated the 
with the matter so arranged that the “ Sec- , r • * , f ,, , • , 
® rules of propriety, and a further restraint 
ulaj Department may be divided from the U p 0 n his conduct was unavoidable. The 
“ f^eligious Department,” thus constituting, attention of the whole school was turned 
as it were, two distinct papers, weekly, upon upon me as I said in a firm but respectable 
one divisible sheet. The senior editor of tone * “ William, you may come to me.”— 
the Observer, founded the “ Boston Record- ' bhe h °l’ of . course ’ ex P e , cted nothil, 8' “ ore 
„ - T , ... than a flogging, and, as he approached my 
er in anuary, ’the first religious des ^ cas t a peculiar glance around the 
newspaper ever published. There are now room, accompanied by a significant wink to 
one hundred and twenty religious newspa- his schoolmates, as much as to say, ‘ I’m 
pers published in this country alone. The read y for anything of that sort.’ ” 
New-York Observer was established in “ Having called him close to me,” contin- 
-iooo i v • • ., , ues the Professor, “ I began to address him 
1823, the fast religious paper m the State. in an undertonc . winiam , j bcliove none 
Tfiif, is the sixth time that it has been en- 0 f us have-understood you yet. You have 
larged and it is now the largest religious the name of being the worst boy in the vil- 
newspaper in the United States, as it is one lage, but I believe you possess some good 
of the best. Terms, $2,50. qualities. It was but the other day I saw 
a large boy fighting a small one, when you 
stepped up and requested him to take one 
of his size, if he wished to fight any one, 
and not because he was the strongest, abuse 
that little boy, who was unable to take his 
own part I saw that with a good deal of 
interest, and I thought it argued in you a 
sense of justice. Again I saw you with a 
pocket-full of apples surrounded by a num- 
of boys, to each of whom, at their request, 
you had given an apple; and in reply to 
the same request from another boy, you re¬ 
marked that you would gladly give him one, 
but that you had given away the last one 
you possessed. I saw this, and thought it 
argued in you something of generosity; 
and that is why I said, I thought none of 
us had understood you—for these are good 
qualities.” 
“ After stating the first transaction, I ob¬ 
served the violent agitation of his feelings, 
while a tear was starting in his eye. And 
as I closed my remarks, he could no longer 
restrain the deep emotions which had been 
awakened in his mind, and began to weep 
like a child. He seemed to share the sym¬ 
pathies of the whole school. I had fortu¬ 
nately touched the right cord, and an im¬ 
pression had evidently been made. I gave 
him permission to return to his seat, which, 
during his continuance in the school, he oc¬ 
cupied with the highest credit. I had won 
his attachment, and the change in his char¬ 
acter was so striking as to become a matter 
of remark through the whole village, and 
of inexpressible joy to his grateful father. 
“ At the end of a year he left the school 
to learn the trade of his father in an iron 
foundry. A second year passed, and in the 
busy whirl of life, I had almost lost sight of 
“Bill Huse,” when, rather late one evening, 
as I was walking to the post-office, with a 
raised umbrella to protect me from the de¬ 
scending sleet, an individual came up at a 
somewhat rapid pace, and followed me into 
the post-office. He remained there until I 
was ready to depart, and again followed, as 
I commenced my return, coming up soon, 
so as to be under my umbrella. “ I believe 
Mr. Page, you don’t know me,” said a voice 
which I immediately recognized as that of 
“ Bill Husewhen an exchange of saluta¬ 
tions, and a hearty shake of the hand soon 
renewed our former acquaintance. “ Mr. 
Page said he,—without allowing me any 
time for inquiries,—“ I have long been anx¬ 
ious to see you, that I might express the 
gratitude which I feel is your due. You 
are the first man that ever gave me credit 
for one good quality. 1 know I was a bad 
boy, yet I always believed that 1 possessed 
some good traits of character. I feel as 
though you had been the means of saving 
me and I have something here,—all the 
work of my own hands,—which I wish you 
to accept as a token of my gratitude, (at 
the same time producing a neatly made 
representation, in cast iron, of a cow drink¬ 
ing from a fountain, beautifully shaded by 
a weeping willow.) I know,” said he, “ its 
a rough thing, yet I thought you would be 
willing to receive it because I had made it 
myself.” 
The writer of this article has often seen 
it in the midst of costly ornaments of taste 
and elegance, on the parlor mantle-piece of 
Prof. Page, who always regarded it as a 
trophy of the highest conquest he ever 
achieved. 
“Bill Huse,” who will still revere the 
memory of his Teacher, to his latest breath, 
is still living in New England, a pious, en¬ 
terprising mechanic. And Prof. Page from 
the midst of his useful labor, in preparing 
others to “ go and do likewise,” was called 
to his reward on New Year’s morning, 1848, 
at the early age of 2*7 years .—Journal of 
Education. 
GETTING MARRIED UNDERSTANDINGLY. 
When a Chinese gentleman feels desi¬ 
rous of taking unto himself a wife, he sends 
to a paternal head of some family contain¬ 
ing daughters, for specimens of the size of 
their feet, with the prices attached. The 
foot of one is valued at perhaps two thous¬ 
and dollars, the next smallest at five hun¬ 
dred, &c., according to the market After 
the foot, or the lady to whom it belongs, is 
chosen, she is sent in a sedan chair to the in¬ 
tended husband’s house; he meets her at 
the door, looks into the vehicle to take a 
view of the fair; and if she suits his taste, 
he admits her. As soon as she passes his 
threshold she becomes his lawful wife—but 
if he likes not the lady, he shuts the door 
and she is carried whither she came. 
Resolve not to be poor. Whatever you 
have, spend less. Poverty is a great enemy 
to human happiness. It certainly destroys 
liberty, and makes some virtues impracti- 
ble, and others extremely difficult— I)r. 
Johnson. 
Dowerv. —The best dowery to advance 
the marriage of a young lady is, when she 
has in her countenance mildness, in her 
speech wisdom, and in her life virtue.— Fen¬ 
ton's Epistle. 
Reading. —It is manifest that all govern¬ 
ment of action is to be gotten by knowl¬ 
edge; and knowledge best by gathering 
many knowledges, which is reading.— Sid¬ 
ney. 
LONGEVITY OP ANIMALS. 
A necrological table of statistics, ex- 
hibitory of the relative length of life enjoy¬ 
ed by different animals, presents the follow¬ 
ing interesting facts:— 
“ The average length of the life of the 
Lion, the Tiger and the Panther, in the 
Menagerie at Paris, is six or seven years.— 
The male lion, however, has lived to the age 
of twenty-nine, and the female to the age 
of seventeen years. Those lions which are 
carried about for exhibition, from place to 
place, generally live much longer—often 
from seventeen to twenty and upwards.— 
The Siberian Bear lives only to three or 
four years of age; the Black Bear being of 
a more robust constitution, from seven to 
eight. The family of bears known by the 
apellation of Maitin-monte a-Varbre , live 
from seventeen to twenty, and behold a long 
series of generations. The Hyena lives only 
four or five years; Dromedaries and Camels, 
thirty or forty; the Elephant, which, when 
free, reaches the age of a century, only at¬ 
tains a quarter of that space of time ; the 
Giraffe, which is now in the Jarden de 
Plantes, has been there seventeen years, 
and still enjoys excellent health. Mon¬ 
keys only survive four or five years, and it 
is mentioned as a great phenomenon that 
one lived in Gibraltar for seventeen years.” 
EYE’S APPLE TREE 
In an interesting volume, entitled “ Re¬ 
collections of Ceylon,” it is asserted that 
Eve’s apple-tree—( kaduragha ,) is there a 
common tree. It is of medium size, its 
leaves nine inches in length by three in 
width, with twenty or more strong fibres 
branching off from each side of the central 
one. Its fruits are attached to a stalk of 
considerable length and are produced in 
pairs. The appearance presented by this 
fruit is said to be very peculiar, having the 
form of an apple of the common kind, with 
about one-third bitten out. It is not edible, 
and is regarded as a most deadly poison.— 
When punctured, it exudes a juice or milk 
so acid, that a single drop falling on the 
skin, immediately raises a blister. “The 
outside,” says the author, “ is of a bright 
yellow color, and the inside a deep crimson. 
It contains a large quantity of black seeds, 
like the pips of an apple, embedded in a 
quantity of scarlet colored pulp. I have 
counted fifty-eight of these seeds in a single 
fruit When ripe, the fruit bursts and the 
seeds fall out; the outside shrivels up, but 
still adheres to the stalk for a considerable 
time.”— Olive Branch. 
THE DUCK PLANT. 
Tms plant which is known botamcally by 
the appellation of AJcistolochia Fatida, is 
perhaps one of the most remarkable pro¬ 
ductions of nature. It is described as “a 
tall bold vine, with heart-shaped leaves,” 
and bearing a flower “ having a most stri¬ 
king resemblance, in body, throat and bill, 
to a duck floating tranquilly on some mir¬ 
rored lake. This duck-shaped flower is 
eighteen inches in length, and sixteen and 
a half inches in circumference of body, sev¬ 
en inches in length of head, and with a 
slender or svvitchy length of tail behind, 
measuring twenty-four inchea The inside 
of the calyx is superbly mottled and varie¬ 
gated with rich colors, somewhat like the 
interior of a preserved ocean shell, but 
neither so brilliant nor so red, but some¬ 
what of a purple cast” One of these plants 
was sometime since exhibited in Charleston, 
and was contemplated with astonishment 
by many.— Olive Branch. 
Assafietida. —This article is obtained 
from a large umbelliferous plant growing in 
Persia. The root resembles a large par¬ 
snip externally, of a black color; on cutting 
it transversely, the assafoetida exudes in form 
of a white, thick juice, like cream, which, 
from exposure to the air, becomes yellower 
and at last of dark brown color. It is very 
apt to run into putrefaction; and hence 
those who collect it carefully defend it from 
the sun. The fresh juice has an excessively 
strong smell, and grows weaker and weaker 
upon keeping; a single drachm of the fresh 
fluid smells more than a hundred pounds 
of the dry assafoetida brought to us. The 
Persians are commonly obliged to hire ships 
on purpose for its carriage, as scarcely any 
one will reeceive it along with other com¬ 
modities, its stench infecting every thing 
that comes near it.— Soil American. 
A squirrel sitting on a hickory tree, was 
once observed to weigh the nuts he got in 
each paw, to find out which were good and 
which were bad. The light ones he invari¬ 
ably threw away, retaining only those which 
were heavier. It was found, on examining 
those he had thrown away that he had not 
made a mistake in a single instance. They 
were all bad nuts.— Woodsworth's Stories. 
The Sable. —This animal resembles the 
marten, and is found in great numbers in 
Siberia and Kamtschatka. Its fur is very 
valuable, and the Russian government de¬ 
rives considerable revenue from its sale, 
MIS-SPENT TIME. 
BY SIR AUBREY DE VERB. 
There is no remedy for time mis-spent •, 
No healing for the waste of idleness, 
Whose very languor is a punishment 
Heavier than active souls can feel or guess. 
Oh, hours of indolence and discontent 
Not now to be redeemed ! ye sting not less 
Because I know this span of life was lent 
For lofty duties, not for selfishness. 
Not to be wiled away in aimless dreams. 
But to improve ourselves, and serve mankind. 
Life and its choicest faculties were given, 
Man should be ever tetter than he seems : 
And shape his acts and discipline his mind, 
To walk, adorning earth, with hope of heaven. 
THE PARMER’S LIFE. 
The Parmer, in an especial manner, has 
the great volume of Nature always open 
before him, and always giving off sublime 
lessons oi life and of all its harmonious re¬ 
ality. Why is it he is so often blind to its 
glorious characters of living truth, abiding 
faith, and joyous hope ? Why should he 
be deaf to all the soul inspiring melody 
that trembles on every leaflet, whispers in 
every breeze, and pervades all the universe 
of God in one grand eternal song of praise ? 
ITow can he constantly move among the 
handiwork of the Creator and not discover 
the evidences of his Almighty Power, in¬ 
finite Wisdom, and unbounded Goodness? 
How can he walk God’s earth, breathe His 
air, and rest his whole life upon the hollow 
of His hand, and not know it ? How can 
he daily offer formal prayers to an unknown 
Deity who dwells afar, beyond all suns and 
stars, enveloped in a thick cloud of impen¬ 
etrable mystery, when the Almighty stands 
before him, nay, dwells within and all around 
him, and upholds and gives life to every 
particle of matter, whether it be of man or 
world? Why should he look in the dis¬ 
tance for the Creator, when that Creator's 
arm is underneath and around him? Why 
ask for the ocean, when that ocean bears 
him up? 
A Spiritual life is a True life, whether 
in this world or the world to come. All 
happiness, here and hereafter, results from 
knowing and obeying the physical, mental, 
and moral laws of the Creator; and many 
of these can only be spiritually obeyed, 
and all are spiritually recognized. Hence, 
a spiritual life is a true life. Such a life, 
the scenes which sufround the Farmer 
seem adapted to draw forth. He may, and 
many do, from infancy, become so accus¬ 
tomed to these scenes that the glory which 
dwells therein is overlooked. He mey be¬ 
come so steeped and hardened in the inor¬ 
dinate love of worldly affairs, that the ten 
thousand objects of beauty about him, fail 
to penetrate his heart Thus it should not 
fie. Thus the parent should not mould the 
plastic mind of his child; and especially the 
Farmer, as he leads his children forth among 
his lowing herds and waving grain, and 
leafy forests, should teach them that “ the 
cattle on a thousand hills” are the Lord’s, 
and that the great Creator may be spiritual¬ 
ly discerned in every blade that bends be¬ 
neath the morning dew, and in every flow¬ 
er that blushes with the morning light 
Then shall his children come to place a 
just estimate upon the scenes of life and the 
beauties of the world about them. Then 
shall they labor diligently and trustingly 
for the things necessary for the sustenance 
of their physical systems, inasmuch as they 
know they are thereby obeying physical 
laws which are necessary to health; and 
then shall they cultivate iu Heaven’s own 
light, their mental and moral powers, inas¬ 
much as they know that thereon all happi¬ 
ness and goodness depend. Then, as they 
advance in years, and go forth to till the 
earth, the falling rain, the silent dew, and 
glorious sunlight, will not speak to them 
only of bounteous crops and heaps of gold, 
but of the blessings of all-pervading Good¬ 
ness, whereby they are enabled to live and 
hold communion with the Father of Spirits. 
Then shall their spirits become in harmony 
with the Spirit of universal Deity; and in 
the smiling fields, the waving woods, the 
lowing herds, the golden grain, the rippling 
brooks, the wide-spread earth and starry 
heavens, shall they read in characters of 
living light, “ Here dwell Almighty Pow¬ 
er, Infinite Wisdom, and Boundless 
Love ;” and hear from them a voice, sweet 
as from angels’ lips, whispering to the wea¬ 
ry spirit, of Faith and Hops and Heaven. 
— Wyoming Co. Mirror. 
Character. —We may judge of a man’s 
character by what he loves—what pleases 
him. If a person manifest delight in low and 
sordid objects the vulgar song and debasing 
language; in the misfortunes of his fellows, 
or oruelty to animals, we may at once de¬ 
termine the complexion of his character.— 
On the contrary if he loves purity, modesty, 
truth—if virtuous pursuits engage his heart 
and draw out his affections—we are satis¬ 
fied that he is an upright man. A mind 
debased shrinks from association with the 
good and wise. 
A contented mind and a good con¬ 
science will make a man happy in all con¬ 
ditions. 
