MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY NEWSPAPER. 
1. Ban-ish sad - ness, sing with glid-ness 
thou-sand rills, Light-ly trip-ping, Gai-ly skip-ping, Gush-es out a - mong the hills. 
2. Birds are sing-ing, na - ture springing, Beams with beau-ty, teems with health 
Through the din-gle, hear the 
L 
tp i ^ ^ ^ 
How the lim-pi 
d 
chor-us swells! From the hill-side to the for-est, Like a chime of matin bells. 
-1 
■ 
sSPfiHS BBS 
___ 
Ma - pie boughs and tas - sel’d wil-lows Wake to weave the earth a crown; Sun-beams o’er the 
raid clusters, Cast their golden tribute down. 
tok-en earth is weeping Tears of joy to greet the spring. 
(Khuatbnal. 
COLERIDGE AND HIS WRITINGS. 
No mind which would gain a doop, clear, 
and expanded development of itself, can 
fail to derive much benefit from the study 
of the philosophical works of Coleridge, 
the master intellect of the early part of the 
present century, and the greatest genius of 
that epoch. It is a marked characteristic 
of his writings, that they not only show his 
own profound wisdom and power, but cre¬ 
ate, mould, and direct mental power in 
others. No uninspired man ever gave ut¬ 
terance to more impressive, more suggestive, 
more thought-demanding, thought awaken¬ 
ing ideas than he, or to ideas which will 
bettor repay, by their serene, systematiz¬ 
ing, and healthful mental influences, our 
thoughtful study. A student and disciple 
con amove, of Coleridge, can never be a 
shallow and superficial thinkor. His men¬ 
tal processes must partake of the depth, 
unity, and order, which pervade the best 
thoughts of this great teacher and philoso¬ 
pher. 
Re-roading “ The Friend,” recently, wo 
ran our pencil along some passages, which, 
taken by themselves, (though not as per¬ 
fectly as in their original connection,) show 
the eminently suggestive nature of the 
writings of Coleridge. We copy from the 
introductory chapters of that work—with, 
in some instances, slight change of phrase¬ 
ology—the paragraphs below. 
Speaking of the object of study, he says : 
The game started and run down may be 
rich and curious; but still at the end of the 
•day it is the chaso itself, the quickened eye, 
.the lengthened bi’eath, the firmer nerve, that 
must ever be the huntsman’s best reward. 
True instruction is not so much to show 
the reader this or that fact, as to kindle his 
own torch for him, and leave it to himself 
to choose tho particular objects, which ho 
might wish to examine by its light. 
To amuse our visitors is wisdom as well as 
good nature, where it is prosumption to at¬ 
tempt their amendment. 
There is this distinction between thought 
and attention; we define thought to mean 
tho voluntary production in our own minds, 
of those states of consciousness, to which, 
as to his fundamental facts, the writer has 
referred us ; while attention has for its ob¬ 
ject the order and connection of thoughts 
and imagqs, each of which is in itself already 
and familiarly known. 
We insensibly imitate what we habitually 
admire. 
The three great relations in which we are 
placed in this world, are—as citizens to the 
State, as men to our neighbors, and as crea¬ 
tures to our Creator—in other words, the 
political, moral, and religious relations. 
Many a man, who has contrived to hide 
his ruling passion or predominant defect 
from himself, will betray the same to dis¬ 
passionate observers, by his prononess on all 
occasions to suspect or accuse others of it. 
— Wo shall continue this selection of 
apothegms hereafter, persuaded that wo 
shall both please and benefit our readers 
thereby.— b. 
DEGENERATED WORDS. 
How many words men have dragged 
downward with themsolves, and made par¬ 
takers more or less of their own fall!— 
Having originally an honorable significance, 
they have yet, with tho deterioration and 
degeneration of those that used them, de¬ 
teriorated and degenerated too. What a 
multitude of words, originally harmless, 
have assumed a harmful as their secondary 
meaning; how many worthy have acquired 
an unworthy ! Thus knave meant once no 
more than a lad (nor does it now in German 
mean more;) villain than peasant; a boor 
was 'only a farmer; a varlet was but a serv¬ 
ing man ; a churl but a strong fellow. Time¬ 
server was used two hundred years ago as 
ofton for one in an honorable as in a dis¬ 
honorable sense, “ serving the time.” Con¬ 
ceits had once nothing conceited in them; 
officious had reference to offices of kindness, 
and not of busy-meddling; moody was that 
which portained to a man’s mood, without ! 
any gloom or sullenness implied. 
Demure (which is “ des mccurs'’ “of good 
manners”) conveyed no hint, as it does now. 
of an over-doing of the outward demonstra¬ 
tions of modesty. In crafty and cunning 
there was nothing of crooked wisdom im¬ 
plied, but only knowledge and skill: craft. 
indeed, still retains very often its more hon¬ 
orable use, a man’s “ craft” being his skill, 
and then tho trade in which he is skilled.— 
And think you that tho Magdalen could 
have ovor given us maudlin, in its present 
contemptuous application, if the tears of 
penitential weeping had been held in due 
honor in the world ? 
Tinsel, from tho Fronch “etincelle,” meant 
once anything that sparkles or glistens; 
thus “ cloth of tinsel ” would be cloth in- 
wrought with silver and gold; but tho sad 
experience that “all is not gold that glit¬ 
ters”—that much which shows fair and spe¬ 
cious to tho eye is yet worthless in reality 
—has caused the word imperceptibly to as¬ 
sume the meaning which it now has, and 
when we speak of “ tinsel,” either literally 
or figuratively, wo always mean now that 
which has no reality of sterling worth un¬ 
derlying the glittering and specious show 
which it makes. Tawdry , which is a word 
of curious .derivation, though I will not 
pause to go into it, has undergone exactly 
the same process; it once conveyed no in¬ 
timation of mean finery, or shabby splendor, 
as now it does. 
The word prude signifies in the present 
day a woman with an over-scrupulous affec¬ 
tation of a modesty which she does not real¬ 
ly feel, and who betrays the absence of tho 
reality by this over-preciseness and niceness 
about the shadow. This use of the word 
must needs have been tho result of a groat 
corruption of manners in those among whom 
it grew up. Goodness must have gone 
strangely out of fashion, before things could 
have come to this. For “prude,” which is 
a French word, moans virtuous or prudent; 
“prudhomme” being a man of courage and 
probity. But where morals are greatly and 
almost universally relaxed, virtue is often 
treated as hypocrisy ; and thus, in a disso¬ 
lute age, and one disbelieving tho existence 
of any inward purity, the word “prude” 
c- me to designate one who affected a virtue, 
even as none were esteemed to do anything 
more ; and in this use of it, which, having 
once acquired, it continues to retain, abides 
an evidence of the corrupt world’s dislike 
to, and disbelief in, tho realities of goodness, 
its willingness to treat them as mere hypoc¬ 
risies and shows. 
Again, why should tho word simple be used 
slightingly, and “simpleton” more slight¬ 
ingly still ? According to its derivation, the 
“simple” is one “without fold,” sine plica; 
just what we may imagine Nathaniel to have 
been, and what our Lord attributed as the 
highest honor to him, the “Israelite with¬ 
out guileand indeed, what higher honor 
could there be than to have nothing double 
about us—to bo without duplicities or folds? 
Even the world, that despises “ simplicity,” 
does not profess to approve of “ duplicity ” 
or double-facedness. 
Silly, written “ seely” in our earlier Eng¬ 
lish. is beyond a doubt the German “ seeg,” 
which means “blessed.” We see the word 
in its transition state in our early poots, 
with whom “silly” is so often an affection¬ 
ate epithet applied to sheep, as expressive 
of their harmlossnoss and innocency. With 
f i still slighter departure from its original 
meaning, an early English poet applies tho 
word to the Lord of glory himself, while yet 
an infant of days, styling him, “ this harm¬ 
less silly babe.” But here tho same process 
went forward as with tho words “ simple” 
and “ innocent.” And the same moral phe¬ 
nomenon repeats itself continually. Tho 
French have their “ bonhommie,” with the 
sarno undertone of contempt; tho Greeks 
also a well-known word. It is to the honor 
of tho Latin, and is very characteristic of 
the best side of Coinan life, that “ simplex” 
and “ simplicitas” never acquired this abu¬ 
sive signification.— Study of Words. 
THE UNALTERABLE PAST. 
Wiio can estimate tho power of the 
tonguo ? The utterance of a word or senti¬ 
ment may be like seed-corn that will re¬ 
produce itself. It may fall on the ear of a 
friend, and find a lodgment in his heart. It 
may become to him a principle of action, 
and a rulo of conduct, and may so enlist his 
sympathies and zeal for its dissemination 
that he may give it an extensive currency. 
The press is an extension of this power. It 
acts as an auxiliary to tho tonguo, giving 
substance to breath and endurance to sound. 
It does not die with the individual; it is not 
confined to his locality; it cannot bo con¬ 
trolled by his will. When a man gives his 
thoughts to leaden typo they may bo scat¬ 
tered through every zone, and however ear¬ 
nestly he may strive to recall them, the effort 
is fruitless. “ What I have written, I have 
written,” said Pilate ; it can neither be al¬ 
tered, nor obliterated, nor forgotten. How 
ofton have good men grieved over the fol¬ 
lies and sins of their youth. What tears 
and pangs have been occasioned by the re¬ 
membrance of the principles they advocat¬ 
ed, tho influence they exerted, tho morals 
they corrupted, and the souls they injured, 
prior to their conversion to God. Tho do¬ 
ings of othor days are made to live before 
us, a chastening for ourselves, a warning to 
our follow-men.— Episcopal Recorder. 
Written for the Rural New-Yorker. 
THE EORGET-ME-NOT. 
While taking a solitary walk at tho close 
of day, my eye fell upon a small plot cover¬ 
ed with fresh blooming flowers, which were 
almost hidden by tho weeds around them, 
and which certainly would not have been 
noticed, unless one was looking very close¬ 
ly. And now, I thought, I have indeed found 
a treasure. Although there is always a 
delight in finding what wo havo not before 
seen, and from which wo may add to our 
fund of knowledge, it was particularly so 
now. Long did I gaze at tho spot wrapt up 
in delightful thoughts. They looked like 
such pure things I hardly dare put forth my 
hand to pluck a flower, fearing my touch 
might withor them. 
The shades of evening were hastening on 
and I could not think of loaving them there. 
So with care I gathered them up, roots and 
all, and transferred them to my flower gar¬ 
den, that I might admire them at my lei¬ 
sure, and learn moro of them. On referring 
to my class book, I was delighted to find 
them christened the “Forget-me-not.” What 
beauty, thought I, in tho namo as well as 
in tho flower ! Was it not a gift of the 
Creator that wo might hold him in remem¬ 
brance. 
And is not this fact as really impressed 
upon every flower that blooms on his foot¬ 
stool ? But man, for whom these beauties 
are provided, will forgot, although there is 
much oven in the humblest plant, and in tho 
most obscure situation to remind him of his 
Maker. 
Years have passed since, but tho gentle 
losson I trust has not been lost in its good 
effect, and I often think of tho humblo yet 
beautiful Forget-me-not. e. h. w. 
Best thing of the Season. —Senator R., 
chairman of the committee on incorpora¬ 
tions, in a hearing one day boforo his com¬ 
mittee suddenly rose from his chair and 
reached over the table to examine a plan or 
map, in which movement he accidentally 
brushed from the table a full inkstand, which 
falling into the chair, left its contents on 
the leather cushion and rolled on to the 
floor. The Senator, all unconscious of tho 
mischief, being about to resume his seat, 
was cautioned by a bystander, when turning 
and looking upon tho inky pool, ho coolly 
remarked, that though chairman of tho com¬ 
mittee on ink-operations he would decline 
sitting in that particular case .—Dover Inq. 
Ignorance takes to dirt as naturally as it 
does to ugliness. In proof of this, wo would j 
mention that a dealer in ashes informed us 
that the opening of a public school in a 
Ward increases the sale of “ yaller soap ” 
twenty-fivo per cent. From this it will bo 
seen that the moro people read, tho moro 
they think ; and tho moro thoy think, tho i 
moro frequently thoy indulge in wash basins 
and clean towels. 
Most men die beforo they have learned 
to live. 
Remorse very often barbs the arrow of 
affliction. 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
’TIS NOT ALL SADNESS. 
BY MRS. A. C. JUDSOJt. 
No! Life is not all sadness, 
’Tis not ail clouds below, 
For there are rays of gladness 
To lighten up our wo; 
Then take the sunshine proffer’d, 
And cast away thy gloom— 
Why wear, when joy is offer’d. 
The shadows of the tomb ? 
Come, cheer thee—Hope is flinging 
Its blossoms o’er thy way ; 
And fragrant flowers are springing 
Like summer’s joyous day : 
And Friendship’s wreaths have bound thee, 
All pure, and fresh, and bright— 
Wlflle Love hath thrown around thee 
Rays like the morning light. 
Away then with thy sadness. 
And let thy brow be clear; 
O turn that heart to gladness, 
And dry the falling tear,— 
Seek round thee for the brightness, 
And look not for the gloom; 
Then thoughts will come with lightness, 
Fresh as the roses’ bloom. 
Thus will thy life be longer, 
Its ills not half so keen, 
Thy mental powers be stronger, 
With Hope to gild each scene— 
And all around will bless thee. 
The aged and the young— 
Smiles on the lip caress thee, 
And praises on the tongue. 
Written For the Rural New-Yorker. 
SABBATH MUSINGS. 
It is a quiet, beautiful, sunny morning. 
The soft, delicious air of spring, comos 
breathing round mo, liko a gentle spirit. I 
have wandered forth to muse, and to enjoy 
the holy calm, and as I linger hero on this 
green hillock, and cast my glanco upon tho 
world around me—sleeping, so peacefully 
in tho holy ray of morning,—I fain would be 
as the child ; unconcious that this fair, this 
beautiful earth, is the abode of sin and sor¬ 
row ! Yonder meadow-lark, as he mounts 
upward into the celestial blue of Heaven, 
has naught but melody and gladness in his 
song,—tho murmur of winds and waters, 
sends a swoot thrill of pleasuro to the soul, 
and Nature’s thousand music voices are as 
glad and harmonious as when— 
First in Eden’s bowers they blent 
On those winds of softness sent, 
Breathing music, low and thrilling, 
O’er the flowers their sweets distilling, 
And with grateful, glad accord 
All arose to praise their Lord. 
And man, in his nobleness and integrity 
stood up, and in tho midst of that fair cre¬ 
ation held sweet communion with his Maker! 
Stood up ! and from tho paradise around 
him, gazed upward into tho sky, and fear- 
loss, talked face to'faco, with tho Almighty 
God ! 
Ah man !—fearful was thy fall; dreadful 
tho sin that called from tho God of Love— 
thine Almighty Friend — a curse upon thy 
head; fearful thy shame and degradation 
boforo an offended Deity, and sad,— ah ! 
sad tho change, that camo upon thee. I 
shudder to think of the wanderings of thy 
children since—their sorrows and sins—and 
turn from my painful reverie, to look again 
upon the bright landscape before mo. 
— Earth is not all sorrow; joy lives in 
many a heart; and love, and hope, and holy 
friendships, bloom oven hore; and many a 
heart goes forth to-day, as mino does, to 
greet this boautiful, holy Sabbath ! And 
the distant church-boll catches the sound 
and echoes it far around over the distant 
hills! “Blessed, holy Sabbath boll! Let 
thy music vibrato o’er every hill-top, and 
tho echo be prolonged through every glen, 
with its glad invitation, to weary, sin-sick 
mortals. Let it woo them to God’s holy 
sanctuary, and the sweet paths of peace 
and holiness ! ” 
— Now my hoart is filled with sweet and 
happy thoughts, and I seem to bo trans¬ 
ported from my mossy seat upon the hill¬ 
top, to the gathering of the children of God ! 
And I am sitting in the humblo church, and 
listening to tho doep, soul-thrilling accents 
of the pastor—God’s loved servant! And 
my spirit thrills with deep, unearthly joy, 
as it drinks in tho eloquence of Heaven, 
from those untainted lips ! Now the swoet 
hymn of praise ascends, with its burthen of 
joy and thanksgiving, swelling out upon the 
air, then dying away liko a pure stream of 
incense. And as I listen, my heart responds, 
“Yes, praise the Lord forever !” 
Praise on earth, the God of love, 
Praise him! Ye bright hosts abovo, 
Every soul, the tribote bring, 
Grateful praise to God, your King. 
Bnrro, N. Y., May, 1853. Via sji Meadows. 
When wo look at a field of wheat we find 
that those stalks which rise thoir hoads the 
highest are the emptiest. The same is the 
case with men—thoso who assumo the great¬ 
est consequence have generally the least 
6haro of judgment and ability. 
Will, Wit and Judgment. — At twenty 
years of ago tho will reigns; at thirty, the 
wit; and at forty the judgmont. 
