MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY JOURNAL. 
C&Mffltijcmul 
BY L. WETUERELL. 
“ Having light, we seek to impart it.” 
HABITS OF OBSERVATION. 
Audubon states that he was forty-five 
years old before he was aware of being 
more than an ordinary man. lie then fell 
in, at Philadelphia, with Charles Bonaparte, 
who said to him—“ Do you know, Mr. Au¬ 
dubon, that you are a very great man ?” 
To which he replied that he did not, and 
asked what he meant? “I consider you 
the greatest ornithologist in the world,” 
was the answer. Bonaparte then took him 
in his carriage to the Lyceum of Natural 
History, and formally introduced him in a 
most complimentary speech. 
He was subsequently proposed as a 
member of that body, and rejected. He 
asked Charles Bonaparte next day what it 
meant. He replied, “Oh you know too 
much for them—they are afraid of you, 
and want to break you down. You must 
take your drawings to Europe.” Follow¬ 
ing this advice, Audubon was received with 
the greatest kindness, and was entertained 
by the noble and learned with every atten¬ 
tion. He was also made a member of the 
Royal Societies of London and Edinburg. 
He says when he returned to America, the 
Philadelphia Society, which had formerly 
refused to admit him as a member, imme¬ 
diately fonvarded him a diploma with a 
highly complimentary letter. 
The difficulties he had to contend with 
were very great, and of various kinds; but, 
to use his own words, “ I made up my mind 
to meet them.” He told me that to pub¬ 
lish his great work cost him one hundred 
and thirty thousand dollars, which he earn¬ 
ed as he went along. In England he was 
constantly applied to to write short articles 
for the periodicals. Frequently, after paint¬ 
ing all day, he would sit down and write a 
page or two, for which next day he would 
receive eight or ten guineas. 
I once asked him how he acquired facil¬ 
ity in composition. He said he supposed it 
came from keeping a regular journal, which 
years, putting down all the occurrences of 
the day with whatever observations he 
thought proper. It was thus he thought a 
man should educate himself. Look at facts 
and truths for yourself, he would say, med¬ 
itate and reason thence.— Arthur's Home 
Gazette. 
Here the reader has the secret of Au¬ 
dubon’s greatness. He observed facts— 
meditated upon them — reasoned —noted 
down his reflections daily —and thus be¬ 
came distinguished as a Naturalist. He 
was also distinguished as a painter. His 
History of Birds is the most valuable, as it 
is one of the most elaborate works that has 
yet been written on the subject of ornithology 
The rural population have a portion of 
the same facts which so deeply interested 
the observing mind of Audubon, spread 
out before them every season. The ad¬ 
vent of spring is always accompanied by 
the singing-birds. And yet how very few of 
our farmers know the names of these com¬ 
mon visitors. Their notes are familiar, per¬ 
chance—but let a thoughtful boy ask his 
father for the name of a bird which is sing¬ 
ing in the orchard, or in the woods, and the 
answer will generally be, “ I don’t know.” 
A little observation, inquiry, and study 
would make every young person among the 
rural population, acquainted with the hab¬ 
its, and familiar with the names of all the 
birds that sgend the season near his resi¬ 
dence. Is it* not desirable to know as much 
as this about birds ? Observe them and 
inquire of your school-teacher if you need 
aid. Begin at once—now, before the sum¬ 
mer is gone, and you will soon learn what 
will afford you much pleasure. 
How to Read. — Think as well as read, 
and when you read. Yield not your minds 
to the passive impressions which others 
may please to make upon them. Hear 
what they have to say; but examine it, 
weigh it, and judge for yourselves. This 
will enable you to make a right use of 
books—to use them as helpers , not as 
guides to your understanding; as counsel¬ 
lors, not dictators of what you are to think 
and believe. 
All censure of a man’s life is oblique 
praise. It is done in order to show how 
much one can spare. It has all the invid¬ 
iousness of self praise, and all the reproach 
of falsehood. 
The “Poor Boy’s College.” —At the re¬ 
cent meeting of Vermonters in Boston, the 
Hon. Myron Lawrence stated some inter¬ 
esting facts about Middlebury College. He 
said the little town of Cornwall, containing 
only about seven hundred inhabitants, had 
educated some 70 young men. Among 
them, he mentions Gov. Slade, Senator 
Foote, President Lindsley, Prof. Post, two 
Professor Thompson, Judge Sampson, Drs. 
Post and Matthews. He stated also that 
the father of Silas Wright paid for the tui¬ 
tion of his son at this college, by drawing 
wood into Middlebury, driving the oxen 
himself, and that Silas used to walk two or 
three miles every day to his father’s house, 
in order that he might thus be enabled to 
obtain a liberal education. 
Such facts as these are common in New 
England. A large proportion of the dis¬ 
tinguished professional men were the sons 
of “ poor parents”—that is “ poor,” in the 
common acceptation of the phrase. Many 
a New England father, like the father of 
the late Hon. Silas Wright, has paid and 
is paying the expenses of his son or sons 
education by labor coupled with the most 
rigid economy. 
We have known more than one boy, who 
as soon as he was old enough to begin to 
help his father on the farm, required to la¬ 
bor eight months of the year —while during 
the other four, he might go to school if he 
would take care of fifteen or twenty head 
of cattle, prepare the wood for the fire, and 
sometimes, draw it from the woods with a 
team;—we say that we have known a boy 
under such disadvantages to fit himself for 
college and graduate*with honor, and take 
a high stand in his chosen profession. 
If a desire for knowledge be early aroused 
in the mind of the boy, he will pursue it, 
and acquire it, no matter what difficulties 
may interpose between him and the object 
upon which his mind is fixed. Poverty 
may cast her hedge about him, but cannot 
confine him, as innumerable examples show. 
NEW PUBLICATIONS. 
Schmitz & Zumpt’s Classical Series for the use 
of Schools. 
A valuable series of School Books, un¬ 
der the above title, is publishing by Lea & 
Blanchard, in Philadelphia. These books 
are well adapted to educational purposes— 
typography and paper good—size uniform 
—volumes neatly bound, and accompanied 
with historical and critical introductions, 
foot-notes, maps and other illustrations. 
The editors of this series, are Dr. Schmitz, 
Rector of the High School, Edinburg, and 
Dr. Zumpt, Professor in the University of 
Berlin, both eminent scholars and practical 
teachers. 
The series consists of the following vol¬ 
umes, either published, or shortly to ap¬ 
pear: 
Caesaris de Bello Gallico Libri IV., 232 pages. 
Price 50 cents. 
P. Virgilii Marouis Carmina, 438 pages, price 
75 cents. 
C. C. Sallustii Catilina et Jagurtha, 1G8 pages, 
price 50 cents. 
Schmitz’s Latin Grammar, 318 pages, price 
60 cents. 
Q. Curtii Rufi de Alexandri Magni quae super- 
sunt, 326 pages, price 70 cents. 
M. T. Ciceronis Orationes Selectae XII., 300 
pages, price 60 cents. 
T. Livii Patavini Historiarum Libri I, II, XXL 
XXII, 350 pages, price 70 cents. 
Kaltschmidt’s School Latin Dictionary, in two 
parts, Latin-English and English-Latin, over 900 
pages. 
Part I., Latin-English, about 500 pages, just 
published. 
Schmitz’s Introducton to the Latin Grammar 
(preparing.) 
P. Ovidii Nasonis CarminaSelecta(preparing.) 
Q. Horatii Flacci Carmina (preparing.) 
First Latin Reading and Exercise Book (pre- 
paring.) 
Second Latin Reading and Exercise Book (pre¬ 
paring. 
A School Classical Dictionary (preparing.) 
We invite the attention of such as are 
interested in Classical learning to this new 
and cheap series of text-books. For sale at 
D. M. Dewey’s, Arcade, Rochester. 
Thoughts Cloaked by Words. —How 
many, alas! must say “I am not what I 
have been.” How many a heart, that once 
at the slightest thought of guile would send 
the vital current flushing fo(th to the very 
finger’s ends, has gained a cooler flow; and 
how many a soul once so frank and free, 
now hides its thoughts and emotions “ be¬ 
neath the cloak of words,” having lost the 
child-like spirit which prompted it to speak 
its projects and wishes as freely as it told its 
simple dreams. h. 
A schoolmaster being called on for a 
toast gave—“ The fair pupils of America— 
may they add virtue to beauty, substract 
envy from friendship, multiply amiable ac 
complishments by sweetness of temper, di¬ 
vide them by sociability and economy, and 
reduce scandal to its lowest denomination.” 
VULTURE OF CALIFORNIA. 
VULTURE OF CALIFORNIA. 
This is one of the largest birds found in 
the State. The drawing is made from one 
lately taken in the Sierras among the Red- 
Woods. He measured about nine feet 
across his spread wing, and is near half that 
length from the tip of his bill to the end of 
his tail. The bird is quite black, except 
one tier of white feathers across his wings. 
Upon the lower side of the wings are more 
white feathers than outside. The head is 
nearly bald, something like the native wild 
turkey of the Western States, and the neck 
bare, as represented in the picture. The 
bird seems not to be very rapacious, but of 
great power. Stories are told of some of 
them being seen with animals in their tal¬ 
ons, weighing 20 or 30 lbs. They appear 
to have great strength, and doubtless sub¬ 
sist upon small game, reptiles and dead an¬ 
imals. They are not often seen far from 
the large timber in the mountains, and are 
mostly confined to the Red-Woods. 
California, January, 1851. II. G. W. 
VEGETABLE OILS. 
For the use and convenience of man the 
vegetable kingdom furnishes various kinds 
of oilo > are ranged in two chlsses—the 
Fixed, and Essential ur voiasiie. ti,„ n.^a 
oils are chiefly expressed from the seeds and 
fruits of plants, are unctious to the touch, 
and to convert them into vapor, requires a, 
heat of about 600 degrees. 
The best known and most generally es¬ 
teemed, is that of the olive, which is ex 
pressed from the pulp of the fruit. The 
kernel yields a less valued kind that soon 
turns rancid. All civilized nations at least 
make use of it and the quantity manufac¬ 
tured is immense. As far back as 1816, a 
writer in the Library of Entertaining 
Knowledge mentions the fact of seeing 20 
vessels, besides smaller craft lying at one 
time in the single harbor of Galipoli, wait¬ 
ing for full cargoes of it. Dr. Duncan 
states that in 1831, above 4,000,000 of 
gallons were imported into Great Britain 
alone. The tree which produces it, is in¬ 
digenous to the East. Following the Star 
of Peace westward it became its hallowed 
emblem. The young plant has been known 
to commence bearing at its second year.— 
At six it begins to remunerate its cultiva¬ 
tion. Thence onward to an indefinite pe¬ 
riod, it well rewards its cultivator. It grows 
to a great age, exceeding even the oak in 
its longevity. Hence the truth of that 
maxim of the olive regions.—“ If you would 
leave a lasting inheritance for your child¬ 
ren’s children, plant an olive.” Mention is 
made of a tree in Italy, that in one year 
produced 240 quarts of oil, and yet it was 
so decayed in the trunk with age as to be 
but a mere shell that seemed hardly capa¬ 
ble of sustaining its own weight. 
Essential oils, resident in the leaves, flow¬ 
ers and other parts of the plant, are usually 
obtained by distillation. It is their presence 
that give to plants their distinguishing 
odors. At a heat not exceeding that of 
boiling water, they are resolved into vapor, 
leaving no greasy stain or residuum. These 
oils are obtained from the seed of the um¬ 
belliferous plants, from the roots of the 
Geum or A veil* family and from the leaves 
and branches of the Labite plants or mint 
tribe. Those obtained from flowers, are 
usually very delicate, some of which can be 
obtained only by impregnating other sub¬ 
stances. These oils possess various medi¬ 
cal qualities, and are therefore variously 
valued by the physician and nurse. 
THE WILD TURKEY. 
Wild turkeys are the most useful of the 
birds of Florida. They are found in large 
flocks near the margins of hummocks not 
often visited, and do not wander far into the 
pine barren, for, unable to sustain any great 
length of flight, their retreat would be cut 
off; but their feebleness on the wing is well 
atoned for by the speed with which they 
run. In the barrens, where a horse sinks 
some distance into the sand at every plunge, 
the turkey will outstrip him at his utmost 
speed in a fair race; but he has not much 
bottom, and in the course of a mile will be¬ 
come so wearied as to be compelled to fly 
up and alight on a tree. This, however, 
seldom happens; for if, in an unknown part 
of the woods, you meet with a flock of tur¬ 
keys, you can always learn the course of a 
hummock from you, for in that direction 
they will certainly turn,—and ur. ess) cu are 
on horseback, and have a dog, it is useless 
offering chase, for they will persevere in the 
foot race, a hundred yards ahead of you, 
until they reach their retreat. 
It requires a very expert hunter to sur¬ 
prise one of these birds. If you are a r o.L e 
the first intimation you will have of their 
presence will be the sight of a flock as far 
off as the eye can reach through the ranges 
of the pines, running with full speed to their 
retreat. One of the best ways of taking 
the turkey is by answering the call of the 
hens. In the stillness of the Florida woods, 
this call may be heard a mile off. A mo¬ 
ment or two after it is heard, the hunter 
answers it by the lips, or by inhaling the 
breath strongly, through the hollow wing 
LgiU/ c* tui Kgj xji cl u:io« J_ hlC l^UTcl find 
the hunter both advance, answering each 
other alternately. When the distance be¬ 
tween the two is such that the bird ought 
to be in sight, the hunter halts behind a 
tree or stump. Foremost of the number 
comes the cock, with a strut even more 
consequential than his domestic namesake. 
The call must be exact, or the bird will 
detect the slightest harshness of sound. I 
remember on one occasion, when with a 
good hunter, this fault cost us a fine bird 
or two. The flock had been called up within 
a long .rifle shot, when the call, from haste 
or some fault, uttered a false note, and 
instantly the whole flock took to flight, as 
they do when suddenly alarmed.— Literary 
World. 
THE HERON. 
It is amusing to see the heron catching 
fish. He wades in water about a foot deep, 
on shoals, or by the marshy bank of rivers; 
his long and little neck, and th^ indefinite 
length of his legs, in the medium he is in, 
singularly contrasting with the smallness i f 
his body. He scarcely ever rests on both 
feet: one is being slowly and silently drawn 
out of the water, ia walking stealthily for¬ 
wards in quest of fish, or he is resting on 
the other, with its fellow dragging behind, 
and giving his undivided attention to some 
prey that he discovers ahead. In this po¬ 
sition he will remain for some minutes as 
still as if life had left him; suddenly, how¬ 
ever, a lucky frisk of a fish’s tail has brought 
him within reach—the long neck of the 
heron is darted into the water with great 
quickness, and on emerging a fish is seen 
flapping with his head and tail in the bill 
of the bird. He is grasped beyond relief, 
however: a few turnings bring him length¬ 
wise into the throat of the heron, down 
which (invariably head foremost) he disap¬ 
pears. The heron takes another cautious 
step or two forward, and the same process 
is repeated from the beginning.— -lb. 
Those islands which so beautifully adorn 
the Pacific, were reared up from the bed 
of the ocean by the little coral insect, which 
deposites a grain of sand at a time. So 
with human exertions. The greatest re¬ 
sults of the mind are produced by small 
but continued exertions. 
As a proof of the versatility of his powers, 
it may be mentioned that each sermon was 
usually concluded with an appropriate hymn. 
When he had finished the preparation of a 
discourse, and while his heart was still 
warm with the subject, it was his custom to 
throw the leading thoughts into a few sim¬ 
ple stanzas. These were sung at the close 
of the service, and supplied his hearers with 
a compend of the sermon at once mnemonic 
and devotional. Thus, a sermon on “ The 
rest which remains for the people of God,” 
was followed by this hymn: — 
Lord of the Sabbath, hear our vows, 
On this Thy day, in this Thy House, 
And own, as grateful sacrifice, 
The songs which from the desert rise. 
Thine earthly Sabhaths, Lord, we love 
But there’s a nobler rest above; 
To that our laborina souls aspire, 
With ardent pangs of strong desire. 
No more fatigue, no more distress; 
Nor sin nor hell shall reach the place; 
No groans shall mingle with the songs, 
Which warble from immortal tongues. 
No rude alarms of raging foes, 
No cares to break the long repose, 
No midnight shade, no clouded sun, 
But sacred, high, eternal noon. 
Oh, long expected day, begin, 
Dawn on these realms of woe and sin! 
Fain would we leave this weary road, 
And sleep in death to rest with God. 
In like manner, a sermon on 1 Peter ii. 
7, was condensed into the following metri¬ 
cal epitome:— 
Jesus, I love Thy charming name; 
’Tis music to mine ear; 
Fain would I sound it out so loud 
That earth and heaven should hear. 
Yes, Thou art precious to my soul, 
My transport and my trust; 
. Jewels to Thee are gaudy toys, 
And gold is sordid dust. 
All my capacious power can wish 
In Thee doth richly meet; 
Nor to mine eyes is light more dear, 
Nor friendship half so sweet. 
Thy grace still dwells upon my heart, 
And sheds its fragrance there; 
The noblest balm of all its wounds, 
The cordial of its care. 
I’ll speak the honors of Thy name 
With my last laboring breath; 
Then, speechless, clasp Thee in mine arms, 
The antidote of death. 
If amber is the gum of fossil trees, fetch¬ 
ed up and floated off by the ocean, hymns 
like these are a spiritual amber. Most of 
the sermons to which they originally per- 
tuinp.fi Imvr*. diortp^'ocirCCl fui ever ; but, at 
once beautiful and buoyant, these sacred 
strains are destined to carry the devout 
emotionsof Doddridge to every shore where 
his Master is loved and where his mother- 
tongue is spoken. — North British Review. 
THE LORD’S PRAYER. 
Blessed be Him, who gave it as a per¬ 
petual fountain of life to the world; and 
blessed be the mother who teaches her 
children to lisp it with their first accents.— 
How many millions have sat beside its “still 
waters” in their childhood, and, from the 
inspiration of its pure wave, been enabled 
to overcome the temptations which have 
beset their path in after years. How much 
sin, how much crime, how much moral 
desolation has it saved to the world; and 
hojv much piety, how much purity, how 
much verdure has it begotten! As the 
kind mother gathered her little ones about 
her knees, on that evening, to hear them 
say their prayers, before retiring to rest, our 
•eyes filled with tears from our childish re¬ 
collections of one, who has been with the 
angels of God for nearly 20 years, and 
whose holy precepts will be forever en¬ 
graven upon the tablet of our heart. 
We hope the reader will not think us 
egotistical, for we speak the experience of 
millions, as well as our own—the prayer 
which she taught us has beamed in our 
horizon, a cloud by day and a pillar of fire 
by night; and we should have been saved 
many a bitter sigh if we had followed it 
more faithfully. Blessed be the mother, 
we repeat, who teaches it to her child.— J. 
S. Chadbov,rne. 
Knowing and Doing. —To know, how 
easy—yet how difficult to do. One may be 
perfectly convinced that a certain course is 
the only proper one, yet have very little pow¬ 
er or inclination to walk therein—may un¬ 
derstand well what should he, yet be con¬ 
tent to let what is, however far from it, re¬ 
main unchanged. 0, how evil passions and 
habits will cling to the soul, making one 
despise himself, that he is so powerless and 
changeable. Happy is he whom it leads 
to the Strong, for strength to break the 
galling chain. Self-reliance can never do it. 
We are never stronger than when we feel 
most deeply our weakness and insufficiency. 
On the vast prairies of Texas, a little He who dies in the path of duty, de¬ 
plant grows, whose leaves point unerring- serves a nobler name than he who leads a 
ly to the North—a guide for travelers victorious army over the ruins of a con- 
across those trackless wilds. quered kingdom. 
The sun-flower not unfrequently meas- There is but a breath of air and a beat 
ures 50 inches in circumference. of the heart betwixt this world and the next. 
