MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY NEWSPAPER. 
(fchtnilroital. 
LANGUAGE.-No. 1. 
"While reading in the “ Rural,” (No. 3G, 
Vol. 3,) an interesting article entitled “ Re¬ 
sults from Language,” from the pen of Prof. 
C. Dewey, of Rochester, the following in¬ 
quiries suggested themselves: 
1st. What was the original language of 
man ? 
2d. Was it his own invention, or the gift 
of the Creator ? 
3d. Into how many branches was it di¬ 
vided by the “ confusion of tongues ” at the 
building of Babel ? 
4th. Whence the great number and va¬ 
riety of languages now existing ? 
On each of these I propose to offer a few 
remarks. And 
1st. What was the original languago of 
man ? 
In the earlier investigations on this sub¬ 
ject, the credit of originality was generally 
conceded to the Hebrews. Later Philolo¬ 
gists, however, appear to have decided dif¬ 
ferently. Not being acquainted with their 
arguments, nor able to refer to them di¬ 
rectly, I am not prepared to judge of their 
merits. My present opinion is, that the 
Hebrew w r as the original language. I reason 
thus : 
Moses though “ learned in all the wisdom 
of Egypt,” was a Hebrew', and w'rote in the 
Hebrew language. This w r as the language 
of the Israelites, and camo from Abraham 
through the Patriarchs, Isaac, Jacob, and 
his posterity, who carried it with them into 
Egypt. Here, on account of the mutual 
jealousies that existed between them and 
the Egyptians, they retained it unmixed 
with that of their neighbors. 
The language of Abraham, then, w r as the 
Hebrew— whence did ho obtain it ? I an- 
swer, from Noaii. Nimrod was a descend¬ 
ant of Ham, and “ the beginning of his king¬ 
dom was Babel in the land of Shinar.” It 
was by the ambitious descendants of Ham, 
therefore, that the building of Babel was 
undertaken. Abraham was a descendant 
of Siiem, who, being a good man, w'ould by 
no means have engaged in the ambitious 
schemes of Nimrod, although he was living 
at the time, for he lived to seo above 500 
years after the flood, even beyond the time 
of Abraham, who w T as born within 300 years 
and died within 500, after that event.— 
Hence Abraiiam, during his whole life, was 
cotemporary with Siiem. 
Siiem would by no means have engaged 
in the ambitious schemes of Nimrod. I in¬ 
fer this from what wo know of his charac¬ 
ter. He was doubtless a good man, (seo 
Gen. ix, 23-7,) had seen the judgment of 
God upon the sins of the antedeluvians, 
and was probably the Melchizedek of Mo¬ 
ses. This is probable, both from the fact 
that Siiem and Abraham wero cotempora¬ 
ries, that Abraham and Melciiizedeck 
spoke the samo language, and that their 
meeting appeared to be that of persons well 
acquainted with each other. 
Again, Noaii lived till Abraham was near¬ 
ly sixty years old. Now it can hardly be 
conceived that a man of Abraham’s stand¬ 
ing in the world, could have lived till that 
ago without having frequent intercourse 
with his venerable ancestor. Or, if the si¬ 
lence of the sacred historian is to be con¬ 
strued into an evidence that the two never 
saw, or had any intercourse with each other, 
the mere proximity of the time in which 
they lived, would go far to prove the same¬ 
ness of their languago, especially under the 
existing circumstances. 
Further,— Nimrod was the great-grand¬ 
son of Noah by IIam, and, allowing the de¬ 
scendants of Ham to have succeeded each 
other at the same rate, or with the same 
rapidity with those of Siiem, the building of 
Babel must have boon commenced before 
the death of Noaii ; and it is more than 
probable that ho outlived the “ confusioi^ of 
tongues” and the subsequent “dispersion” 
of the inhabitants. Would he have coun¬ 
tenanced the unhallowed project ? Cer¬ 
tainly not. The judgment of God upon it 
proves it to have been an unrighteous 
measure, and ho had seen the fearful con¬ 
sequences of sin too recently, to allow of 
his encouraging such a scheme. Since, 
therefore, the “confusion” was inflicted 
upon the builders of Babel, since neither 
Noaii nor Siiem, (both of whom wero living 
at tho time,) would have encouraged the 
the work, and since Abraiiam, a descend¬ 
ant of Siiem, lived in tho timo of his vener¬ 
able ancestors, I conclude that the language 
of Abraiiam was the same with that of 
Noaii. Now if it can bo shown that tho 
languago of NoAn was the samo with that 
of Adam, it will follow that tho Hebrew was 
the original languago of man. 
It will not be denied that the languago of 
a people has frequently undergone great 
changes in a comparatively short time.— 
Such changes however, have always result¬ 
ed from some foreign cause; as invasion, 
intermixture by colonization, &c. There is 
no evidence of any such interruption in the 
antodeluvian languago. On the contrary, 
there is evidence of uninterrupted succes¬ 
sion. Tho line of Patriarchs given in Gen¬ 
esis (ch. v.) is unbroken. Add to this tho 
fact that Methuselah, who died in the year 
of + he flood, was in his youth, cotempora¬ 
ry with Adam, ( 243 years.) and in after lifo 
with Noah, (GOO years,) and it will appear 
that whatever changes may have taken place 
in tho original language, or whatever dia¬ 
lects may have been formed among distant 
colonies, it is hardly possible that the lan¬ 
guage of Noaii could have differed essen¬ 
tially from that of Adam. Hence I infer 
that Hebrew was the first language of man. 
Down East, 1852. H. 
GENESEE MODEL SCHOOL FOR E0YS. 
We have received the circular of “ The 
Genesee Model School for Boys,” an Insti¬ 
tution recently established at Lima, N. Y., 
for the purposo of putting into practice 
that system of general education, combin¬ 
ing Physical, Intellectual and Moral train 
ing, which has been theoretically sanctioned 
throughout this country and Europe, as the 
only means of developing all the faculties 
of the man. Whatever the condition of the 
pupil when admitted, it is proposed “so to 
treat him in all the attributes of his three¬ 
fold nature, as to make the most that can 
bo made of him, during the period of his 
residence at school, and to direct him on 
the way, towards tho utmost development 
of himself attainable in after lifo.” 
The proprietors and associate Principals 
of tho School, are Rev. Wm. II. DePuy, and 
Rev. Y\ m. B. Slaughter, gentlemen of en¬ 
terprise and ability, who have made tho 
most ample preparations in the way of elo- 
gant buildings and grounds, competent in¬ 
structors, and every requisite and conveni¬ 
ence which can be desired. They have en¬ 
gaged in this enterprise after years of expe¬ 
rience in the personal instruction of youth, 
with a thorough conviction of its utility and 
feasibility. Many prominent friends of Edu¬ 
cation give it earnest commendation, and it 
is to bo hoped that it will meet with tho suc¬ 
cess which its importance deserves. The 
pupils are limited to forty, and tho wholo 
charges for tho year, including board, tui¬ 
tion, &c., are 8250. 
THE DISTRICT SCHOOL. 
We always take a deep interest in all ef¬ 
forts to promote common school education. 
The cause is one of the noblest ever enga¬ 
ged in. Its objects reach far away into the 
| future and take hold of tho stability, char¬ 
acter and permanency of all our free insti- 
stutions. 
The improvement in the public mind in 
relation to this matter, is most gratifying.— 
Yet there is a wide spaco for still farther 
activity in the promotion of interests so vi¬ 
tally important to society. Such interests 
should receive tho earnest and unfaltering 
support of every member of the communi¬ 
ty. To many, the matter of common school 
education presents but tho dull routine of 
mechanical operations—the monotonous ex¬ 
ercises of reading, writing, ciphering and 
spelling. And yet under such slow process, 
human mind is developing and maturing, 
and impressions given which shall mould 
character for eternity. The vibrations of 
the school-room give tone to a life timo.— 
Indeed, the teacher of youth occupies one 
of the most responsible positions on earth. 
School-rooms are cheaper than court¬ 
rooms—teachers cheaper than sheriffs and 
judges—education in youth, cheaper than 
Stato prison and the scaffold in manhood.— 
Gen. Harrison once said to a man who was 
about to build a high fence to keep the boys 
from stealing his fruit on the Sabbath, “ Are 
not Sabbath Schools cheaper?” The thought 
embodied a world of truth. 
Were we to select a spot for a residence, 
we should look well first to the character of 
tho community in tho matter of schools.— 
We should first look at tho school-house and 
into it. V7e should attend a school meeting 
and seo the people together, and learn the 
extent and liberality of their views, and the 
quality of teachers employed. 
We would shun tho niggardly—the penny 
skinning community. Such communities 
esteem an old shell on tho bleak hill, thro’ 
every side of which tho wintry wind whis¬ 
tles “ Hail Columbia,” a fit place for their 
children ; the man who can set copies and 
do “ sums” in rule of threo and Hog chil¬ 
dren that ought to be flogged at home, a 
competent teacher; and the education which 
consists in mechanical parsing, dull reading 
and wretched writing, a sufficient education. 
Tho age moves on wdiile such communities 
are slumbering in a half bushel. 
But in tho wide waste of old, woathor- 
beaten and crumbling school-houses and 
Districts where the light of knowledge hard¬ 
ly makes tho general darkness visible, there 
are thousands of bright spots. Light ex¬ 
pands. The importance of a right system 
of common school education, is felt. There 
aro liberal views and generous appropria¬ 
tions. Noat and commodious school build¬ 
ings aro erected, competent teachers em¬ 
ployed, and necessary apparatus furnished. 
Let the homo seeker turn aside to such 
communities, and help to move on its en- 
lightcnod and grievous efforts. Don’t stop 
to feed tho horse where tho school-house 
looks so much like desolation.— Cayuea 
Chief 
/or flic {loirng. 
For the Rural New-Yorker. 
SOME THOUGHTS ON BIRDS. 
1 have recently been very much interest¬ 
ed in reading an English work entitled 
“ Country Rambles in England, or Journal 
of a Naturalist.” It has just been repub¬ 
lished by Messrs. Piiinney & Co., a highly 
reputable publishing liouso of Buffalo, and 
tho American edition is materially enhanced 
in value by the editorial labors of Miss 
Cooper, author of “Rural Hours.” She has 
appended nearly a hundred pages of notes, 
explaining the difference between several 
species of birds in Great Britain and this 
country, having tho same name, and com¬ 
menting upon other topics of interest, tend¬ 
ing to enlighten the reader. The work is 
very full on ornithology, and tho few tho’ts 
I have to offer w'ore suggested or disinterred 
by reading that division. 
What I have to say at this time, is on the 
habits of birds : and, first, as it regards their 
rising. I havo sometimes thought that, in 
this respect, they set us wiser (?) and feath- 
erless animals a good example. I havo a 
canary vdiose cage hangs before a window 
in my sleeping room, and which leaves its 
roost and begins to nibblo at its breakfast as 
soon as day dawns. It serves as an admi¬ 
rable substitute for an alarm clock during 
tho summer solstice. It pours its little 
snatches of song long beforo the sun is up; 
and thus, to borrow a beautiful thought from 
Mrs. Sigourney, pays in advance its rent in 
music for tho day. In addition to this, by 
filling the ears of each member of the house¬ 
hold with melody before the din of the world 
has crowded its way in, we aro all put in a 
cheerful mood to begin the toils and to en¬ 
counter the perplexities of tho day. Among 
other early rising birds, I recollect distinctly 
the pigeon, from the circumstance that, 
when a little, dozy-headed boy, I used to be 
waked up beforo day-light by my father in 
“pigeon time,” in order that we might get 
the net sot and ourselves concealed in the 
bower-house before the prating birds ap¬ 
proached the “stand.” I used to luxuriate 
in seeing the net fly over the pigeon-paved 
bed, though I hated to rise so early to par¬ 
ticipate in the sport. I thought then that 
if these birds would keep their roosts till 
the sun was an hour or two high, they would 
obligo mo very much and perfect my hap¬ 
piness in seeing them caught. I am now 
older than I was in those days, and have 
livod to commend pigeons for this habit of 
witnessing what Jeremy Taylor called “ the 
preparation which tho sun makes, when ho 
is coming forth from his chambers of tho 
east.” 
Poets havo got tho start of me in men¬ 
tioning that tho lark is an early riser; but I 
may mention, among the many birds thus vir¬ 
tuously addicted, the loquacious blackbird; 
tho restless wren, which leaves its ivy-bed 
before man can scarcely discern its w'oo form; 
and the full-eyed, chatty and pugnacious 
robin,—chatty in tho spring and summer, 
and pugnacious the year round. In coun¬ 
tries which the rook inhabits, he leads the 
feathered tribe through the gray of tho 
dawn. Breakfasting on such worms as bathe 
in the dew and flee dowmvard at tho ap¬ 
proach of day, ho has to dispatch his meal 
and apply the napkin to his bill before the 
sun shines, just as man hays it while that 
orb hangs out in sight. "Without calling- 
other sylvan minstrels by name, it is enough 
to say that all of them aro up as soon as 
they can seo comfortably to work, and that 
oven in the shortest days, it is safe to follow' 
their example. “Up with tho lark,” in 
June, is respectable rising, and nothing 
more. 
Birds arc industrious. Not only do all of 
them rise early, but they generally go to 
work at once : and nothing can exceed their 
diligence when thoy have a family to sup¬ 
port. All tribes, save, perhaps, tho pisciv¬ 
orous, aro then busy almost incessantly 
throughout the longest days. In obtaining 
nourishment for their young, some of them 
go a great ways, and return at long inter¬ 
vals ; nevertheless they aro in constant and 
most eager pursuit of food; others are 
obliged to go but a short distanco from tho 
nest, and return the quicker. Mr. Knapp, 
author of tho work to which I have referred, 
mentions birds of tho ptarus tribe (parus 
cceruleus) whoso visits to their nest of young 
ones, average one a minute for thirteen or 
fourteen consccutivo hours ! I havo sat in 
a barn, and w'atchod a pair of sw'allows for 
hours while they were feeding their brood; 
and havo observed with dolight tho fre¬ 
quency and clock-like regularity with which 
they made their returns with insect-laden 
bills, one darting out in pursuit of game as 
the other, successful in the brief chase, en¬ 
tered. While thus observing these indus¬ 
trious and innocent little creatures, I have 
thought that if all men w'ero as assiduous in 
their endeavors to support their families, 
there would bo a great reduction of the 
number of paupers. 
But while pointing out some of tho good 
habits of birds, it may be hinted, by tho 
sagacious reader, that some of these eulo¬ 
gised gentry of tho forest and field, havo 
bad habits. This I grant, and theso latter 
habits I would recommend no man to copy, 
as I W'ould have him a-' id imitating what is 
vicious in a being or his own species. 
But birds, permit me humbly to say, aro 
not so depraved as the foggy reason of finite 
man, in its hasty conclusions, sometimes in¬ 
fers. Many of theso hated visitants of tho 
garden and the grain-growing field—marau¬ 
ders denominated, and hunted often as a 
curse—are blessings in disguise. The birds 
which do slight mischief, in many instances 
destroy insects which, living, would do far 
greater. It is not until wo have sounded 
the great deep of Nature’s economy, that 
wo aro prepared, in every caso, to distin¬ 
guish between tho blessing and tho curse. 
Buffalo, Dec., 1852. j. c. 
WEARING SUSPENDERS. 
It is tho prevailing fashion, especially in 
cities, for men to dispense with suspenders, 
and support their pantaloons by having them 
made to button tightly around the person 
above the hips. 
It is our settled conviction, that this prac¬ 
tice is decidedly detrimental to health.— 
Much has boon justly said against tight la¬ 
cing, as applied to females ; and of suspend¬ 
ing heavy skirts to tho hips, by fastening 
them tightly around tho waist or loins, where 
there are no ribs or other bony frame-work 
to resist the compressive power. The 
changes have been rung upon the heat caus¬ 
ed by this closo bandaging the aboinen, tho 
evils of thus cramping that part of tho vital 
apparatus—tho system—which nature in¬ 
tends to bo free and unrestricted as to room 
and action, and would that theso tones could 
have been hoeded in time to prevent the fre¬ 
quent death-knell which such practices have 
rondored necessary ; but who ever thought 
of sounding the alarm to men against a 
similar practice in respect to their dress ? 
Wo admit that half a dozen skirts weigh¬ 
ing many pounds, are worso for the consti¬ 
tution of tho wearer than tho drawers and 
pantaloons as worn by men, but worse only 
because the quantity is greater, and tho 
pressure necessary to sustain them is more. 
The principle is the same. Females should 
support their skirts mainly by tho shoulders. 
Tho hips of boys and men are constitu¬ 
tionally narrower than those of the female; 
and therefore, the clothing thus worn re¬ 
quires to be tighter, to provent slipping 
down. 
As we walk tho streets of our city, we seo 
scores of boys, from twelve to sixteen years 
old, with their pants buckled very tight 
around their diiniuutivo hips, preventing 
growth at this rapidly growing ago, and tho 
result is, a generation of slim-shanked, nar¬ 
row-hipped, gaunt-waisted, dyspeptic, pale- 
faced, puny apologies for men. 
It is evident to every reflecting mind, 
that tho process of digestion cannot be 
properly performed, when tho region of the 
stomach and intestines is cramped by tight 
dressing. This soft compressible part of tho 
body should bo left as nature has left it— 
unrestrained—untrammeled. 
Tie up tho bowels of a horso, and how 
long could he work; to say nothing of cov¬ 
ering him with barrol staves instead of 
whalobono, and lacing him up with a cart 
rope from shoulder to hips. What respect¬ 
able horso would not baulk at the manifest 
infringement of his liberty and the laws of 
his natuie? and is man an exception to 
physical law ? 
But, say the ladies, “ our dresses do not 
feel tight.” Neither would a ring placed on 
a child’s finger, and allowed to remain there 
until tho child was full grown ; but thero 
would bo a groove in that child’s finger, and 
in tho very bone within it, so that there 
would bo no room between the ring, and the 
bone for the circulation of tho blood. 
Wo bocomo accustomed to tight dressing, 
and the soft parts of the body will not grow 
against hard pressure,—therefore the dress 
may not feel tight. A melon or pumpkin 
will grow between two rocks and not mar 
its rind. It approaches so as to touch tho 
stones, and then extends each way in growth 
to its full sixo, but it is flattened in the mid¬ 
dle, and half cut in two, like an hour-glass, 
and yet its confinement thus does not “ feel 
tight.” 
But, say men and boys, “ We suffer no in¬ 
convenience from wearing our pants tight 
around our hips.” To this I reply as above. 
They say, too, that “ they feel more free in 
action without than with susponders.” So 
thoy may around tho shoulders, but let tho 
pantaloons bo looso enough to movo as tho 
person bends, and let tho suspenders be 
made elastic, and no special want of free¬ 
dom will be experienced. 
Around tho waist and hips, the very place 
where freedom of action and expansion 
should, of all the other parts of the trunk, 
be enjoyed, thero is a tightness, compression 
and a destructive lack of freedom. If it bo 
not felt as a serious physical inconvenience, 
it is because custom, like the taste of tobacco 
to its user, has made it a second nature.— 
Its functional effects on growth, digestion, 
and health, however, are not the less real. 
We plant ourselves on this point, and 
claim that our position cannot be disturbed, 
viz;—the animal economy, from head to 
foot, should never bo dressed in such a man¬ 
ner, as in tho least degreo to cramp tho 
freedom of any action of the body or limbs. 
Let this be the rulo with all, and onc-1 alfof 
our doctors might be sparod to cultivate tho 
soil.— Phrenological Journal. 
For the New-Yorker. 
THE CHILD’S PRAYER. 
’Twas breathed at twilights holy hour 
Beneath the greenwood shade, 
"Where ’mid the tall and branching trees 
The fading sunlight played. 
’Twa^ borne on high by angel wings 
That, viewless hovered near, 
And from his throne our Father bent 
That trusting voice to hear. 
O, prayer is sweet, e’en from a heart 
That’s steeped in guilt and woe, 
A heart that’s drank the deepest cup 
Of grief that earth may know. 
And holy is the tear that dews 
The wanderer’s glistening eye, 
"When earthly visions fade away 
And Heaven is drawing nigh. 
But childhood's fervent, trusting prayer,— 
O, what on earth so pure ? 
Ne’er dreaming of the countless woes 
Earth’s children must endure,—• 
Childhood's sweet orisons arise 
Unfearing earthly harm, 
While loaning with a holy trust 
Upon a Father’s arm. Jexnt. 
"Written for the Rural New-Yorker. 
THOUGHTS ON A CITY FUNERAL. 
A few days since, while picking my way 
along the crowded walk I met the remains 
of one, who, perhaps but a short time beforo 
had been, like myself at that moment, an 
individual of tho living tide so characteristic 
of an American city. A minute after, and 
tho pall, tho bearers, and thoso following 
the corpse to its last resting place, were 
gone, hidden from sight in tho hurrying 
crowd. During tho remainder of my walk 
as if suggested by this frequent occurrence, 
serious thoughts of lifo and death "lame un¬ 
bidden to my mind, but not sad nor unwel- 
como. I thought how he had trodden the 
thronged pavement as I was now doing; 
how ho too had longed for immortality; 
how diligently ho had labored to leave his 
impress on tho world. But he was gone, 
and as one who walks along the sea-slioro 
at the obbing tide looks in vain for traces 
of those who trod tho same sands a few 
short hours before; so I looked in vain for 
something to tell of him who would pass 
that way no more. The busy crowd rushed 
on, as if those composing it were never to 
bo borr.o, likq him, for tho last time along 
tho noisy street, as.if they were never, like 
him, to go from the jostling throng to tho 
silent grave. They too, as I, were seeking 
to render ineffaceable their “ foot-marks on 
the sands of time;” yet tho next wave of 
death would leave nothing by which tho eye 
of him who should come next could learn 
who had gone before. 
W'ould I, too, bo so soon forgotton ?— 
Could I loave behind me nothing to tall tho 
world I had ever boon ? My friends would 
bear mo to my grave, beside which thoy 
would soon lio down. Tho wind and rain 
and frost would defaco tho stone by which 
loving hearts might seek to prolong my 
memory, and in a few short years tho curi¬ 
ous passor-by would step upon my grave, 
unconscious that the remains of ono onco 
as full of lifo as himself lay under the greon 
turf on which ho walked. 
Then arose tho question, “What is im* 
mortal T Can I make my name perpetual 
among my fellows ? Can I leavo “ foot¬ 
marks on tho sands of timo ?” No; those 
sands aro as an ivory tablet from which 
the pencil marks 1 made aro soon washed 
by death that it bo ready for him who fol¬ 
lows mo. Yet I am immortal, and transient 
as may appear my impress on the world, it 
lasts long enough for the Eternal to take 
from it a cast to meet mo at tho great day 
of account. Life is the form from which 
an impression is taken for tho archives of 
the Most High. Wo are soon gone from 
tho memory of the world ; but a single gen- 
tlo look, or word of love, may prove tho ori¬ 
gin of a train of events to characterize an 
age. How often has a smile nerved a droop¬ 
ing heart for noblest deeds ? Ono kind act 
may turn a brother from vice and bo one in 
a train of ovents to reform a nation. Tlius 
may I bo immortal, still working in the re¬ 
sults of my labors when my name has long 
been forgotten on earth. 
“ Thoy that bo wise shall shine as tho 
brightness of the firmament, and thoy that 
turn many to rightcousnoss as tho stars for- 
evor and ever.” Suissac. 
A Happy World. — Many think them¬ 
selves to be truly God-fearing, when they 
call tho world a valley of tears. But 1 be¬ 
lieve thoy would be more so, if they called 
it a happy valley. God is more pleased with 
those who think everything right in tho 
world, than with those who think nothing 
right. With so many thousand joys, is it 
not black ingratitude to call the world a 
place of sorrow and torment?— Richter. 
It is in tho power of every man to pre¬ 
serve his probity; but no man living has it 
in his power to say, that ho can preserve 
his reputation, while thero are so many evil 
tongues in tho world ready to blast the fair¬ 
est character; and so many open ears ready 
to receive their reports. 
