168 
MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY NEWSPAPER. 
SUBORDINATION. 
To the parent and teacher, and pre-emi¬ 
nently to the scholar himself, the habit of 
subordination is one of the greatest value 
and importance. So much of the useful¬ 
ness and happiness of after life—so much 
of the present peace and pleasantness of the 
family and school—so much of the efficiency 
of all training and culture, depend upon 
due obedience and submission to authority, 
that wo can scarcely be mistaken in ranking 
this as the earliest moral lesson—as the 
foundation upon which all that is valuable, 
all that is “ lovely and of good report" in 
the whole being, power, and character ol 
the man is erected. 
By suboi’dination, we mean respectful 
obedienco to parents and those to whom 
their authority may bo delegated, and to the 
paramount laws of society and the State. 
No human being can be loft alone to the 
guidanco of his untrained and unregulated 
will with safety to himself or to community. 
And no one of matured age and experience 
regrets that, when a child, he was not left 
to act his own pleasure, but taught to obey 
the dictation of wiser minds than his own. 
No wilful man, no disobedient child, but in 
a thousand instances, sees cause to regret 
his wilfulness and disobedience,—this con¬ 
clusion forced upon him by the consequen¬ 
ces of insubordination. 
Most weighty are the responsibilities 
which rest upon those who have to do with 
the early training and control of children.— 
This duty must be enforced, this habit form¬ 
ed, or neither family, social, or civil organiza¬ 
tions can bo sustained among men. Every 
one who has seen, must pity the petted, in¬ 
dulged, and in fact, “spoiled child,”—the 
victim of misjudging affection, and of its 
own fretful and capricious waywardness.— 
We must pity, and it should grieve us to 
know that there is not only a child spoiled 
but a man blasted—for one left to follow the 
selfish and wayward whims of childhood 
can never be a sti’ong-minded and inde¬ 
pendent man, but must still be petted and in¬ 
dulged by others, and eventually become a 
morose and disapointed if not an openly 
vicious being, and worse than a blank in 
society. 
The child whose will is suboi’dinato to that 
of his parents and teachers—who forms hab¬ 
its of enlightened obedience in youth—will 
pass pleasantly among his fellows, and will 
reverence and obey the laws of his country. 
But that child is little likely to pi’ovo an 
agreeable member of society or to act the 
part of a good citizen, who, as a child, sub¬ 
mitted to no authority but that of his own 
unbridled passions—who obeyed no laws 
but those which ho could not infringe. 
—Wo would not have the “ spirit” of a 
child cowed and broken into unquestioning 
submission—but wo would have it made to 
recognize the claims of others—to know 
that others possess rights, privileges, and 
feelings as important and as sacred as its 
own. We would have it acquire the habit 
of looking upon all questions brought be- 
fore it for decision or action, not from the 
point of self alone, but in l’efei'ence to 
the duties and relations of life, by one mem¬ 
ber of society to another. Wero all chil¬ 
dren thus taught, the anarchy, confusion 
and crime, now prevailing so largely among 
our juvenile population would soon come to 
an end.— b. 
THE SPIRIT OF A SCHOLAR. 
In the life of a scholar are certain ele¬ 
ments, which, if rightly dii-eted, will not fail 
to give elevation and power to his example. 
He conti’ols in a great measure, the fluctu¬ 
ating tide of public opinion, and conti’ibutes 
largely in giving tone to the literatui-e, the 
enterprise and moi’als of the age. His spir¬ 
it is felt through all the activities of society. 
His productions are considered as among 
his country’s deai'est treasures—the light of 
his genius as her brightest ornament. 
But let us notice these elements of a 
scholar’s life more in detail. The basis of a 
vigorous independence, and of every schol¬ 
arly vritue is a meditative spirit—deep, 
original thought. This alone can create.— 
The true scholar thinks for other men and 
other times. He is not a dreamer—linger¬ 
ing merely on the surface of popular senti¬ 
ment. Nor is he content w r ith alone repeat¬ 
ing what others may have said, and doing 
what others may have done. He looks 
above time and sees a host of literary wor¬ 
thies, thus elevated and crowned, not in vir¬ 
tue of their heaven-bestowed genius, but as 
the reward of severe and earnest labor. 
Those bold, energetic minds ever unwilling 
to build in the dust, rather despising the 
metum pecus —the ignoble hord—would they 
climb to those high realms where imporial 
thought holds dominion. 
The true scholar shrinks not from a prob¬ 
lem, because it is difficult and mysterious. 
This amounts to ti'eason against the laws of 
intellectual domain. For the obscurity 
which to us is so repulsive is not formed in 
the subject, but in the feebleness of our un¬ 
derstanding. The darkness that intercepts 
the progress of research and dims the per¬ 
ception, is a defect in the mind’s aptitude, 
and not an inherent viciousness in the ques¬ 
tion proposed. 
When we are met by those dark and dif¬ 
ficult subjects, instead of yielding to the im¬ 
agined mystery that gathers about the solu¬ 
tion, let us struggle on until we surmount 
all personal perplexities ; then will the path 
of investigation becomo easy and delightful. 
If we are repulsed in our iirst attack, our 
alternative is another trial. As jou multi¬ 
ply your efforts, be sure also to augment 
the energy and perseverance adequate to 
the undertaking. Robert Bruce, restorer 
of the Scottish monarchy, being out one day 
reconnoitering the enemy, lay all night in 
a barn belonging to a loyal cottager. In 
the morning, still reclining his head on the 
pillow of straw, he beheld a spider climbing 
up a beam of the roof. The insect fell to 
the ground; but immediately essayed the 
second time to ascend. This attracted the 
notice of the hei'O, who, with regret saw the 
spider fall a second time from the same em¬ 
inence. It made a third unsuccessful at¬ 
tempt : and a fourth, and still others. Not 
without a mixture of concern and curiosity 
the monarch twelve times beheld the insect 
baffled in its aim ; but the thirteenth essay 
was crowned with success; it gained the 
summit of the barn, when the king, start¬ 
ing from his couch, exclaimed — “ This des¬ 
picable insect has taught me perseverance 
—I will follow its example. Have I not 
been twelve times defeated by the enemies’ 
superior force ?—on one fight more hangs 
the independence of my country.” In a few 
days his anticipations were fully realized by 
tho glorious result to Scotland of the battle 
of Bannockburn. It may be thus with you, 
kind reader; your next effort may date an 
achievement of untold importance. 
The mind of original research is cautious 
in the reception of any now theory or’wild 
speculation that may be started. It exam¬ 
ines with closest scrutiny the claims of every 
system upon public confidence. It studies 
its relations upon its own facts, and tho har¬ 
mony of its tendencies with the accredited 
l-esuits of experience. This bold scrutiny 
not only surveys each fundamental truth, 
and gives a proper adjustment to all its 
bearings : but it looks over tho dreary wilds 
of conjecturo, and tho vagaries of a sickly 
fancy, to determine what may bo worthy of 
approval. 
THE CHILD TO BE GOVERNED. 
JOHN ERICSSON. 
The first difficulty and greater than all 
others encountered by the teacher in the 
management of his school, springs out of 
the failure of parents to conti’ol their chil¬ 
dren at home. 
The direction of Solomon to “ train up a 
child in the way he should go,” has appa¬ 
rently not yet secured universal conversion 
to its wisdom and authority. Tho child not 
habituated to restraint at home, knows of 
no reason why he should not enjoy all the 
personal liberty and license elsewhere, which 
tho parental roof affords him. He, there¬ 
fore, regards the attempts of the teacher to 
control him as usurped authority, and be¬ 
haves himself accoi’dingly. 
In The Toacher, a new and excellent.jour¬ 
nal just started at St. Louis, there are some 
remai'ks on this point which are eminently 
just and appropriate: 
“ Tho greatest error of American parents, 
is their blindness not to see, or, through 
misplaced affection, not to heed the faults 
of their children. To such an extent is this 
error carried, that they indulge them as far 
as possible in all their wdiims and desires, 
and never check them in their wayward¬ 
ness. Indeed, so groat has this evil become 
that it thi-eatens to dissolve the bands of 
society, and set all law and authority at de¬ 
fiance. That the duty of subduing the re- 
fractory and instilling principles of subordi¬ 
nation and i*espect for law and authority, is 
now alarmingly neglected by parents, is too 
self-evident for denial. That it is essential 
to tho welfare of the community and hap¬ 
piness of tho individual, and that it should 
be dono, no one will question. But when 
or where ought it to be done ? Unques¬ 
tionably under tho paternal roof. But as it 
is not, it must bo done in school, or the in¬ 
dividual must be abandoned to the correct¬ 
ing hand of justice, as administered in our 
courts and prisons. This is a gi'eat re¬ 
sponsibility devolving upon tho teacher, and 
to discharge it faithfully, he ought to have 
parental sanction and authority. In how 
many instances is this obtained ? Scai-cely 
ever, if we except a few cases, when the 
children have becomo so rude and un¬ 
governable at homo, that parents acknowl¬ 
edge their inability to control them, and 
send them to school expressly to have them 
made tractable. The teacher has a difficult 
and delicate task to perform, leaving him 
scai’coly any alternative except being im¬ 
paled on one or the other horn of the di¬ 
lemma. If he is conscientious, ho dischar¬ 
ges his duty, even at the risk of losing his 
place; but if otherwise, ho will humor the 
caprices of both children and parents, and 
by devices and appliances hide his defi¬ 
ciencies, until his disorderly school and 
general inefficiency become so obvious that 
even the blind can see it. This is tho main 
cause of the general inefficiency of private 
schools. Private teachers have to humor 
the whims and caprices of parents, make the 
school-i’ooom pleasant to their children, ex¬ 
act no hard lessons, never insist upon the 
performance of an allotted task, and never 
dream of punishing them. At this rate 
things go on swimmingly for a while; but 
at last, parents, to their surprise, learn that 
their children are learning nothing; they 
withdraw them from school, and send them 
to another, to run the same career of folly, 
and ending as they began, by breaking up 
to-day the paragon school of yesterday.”— 
Prairie Farmer. 
The inventor of tho Caloric Engine has 
of late occupied a large sharo of public at¬ 
tention, and hence we have procured a por¬ 
trait which we givo above, with tho follow¬ 
ing brief biograpical sketch from the Fami¬ 
ly Journal: 
John Ericsson is, by birth and descent, a 
Swede, and was born in the province of 
Vermeland, on tho 31st of July, 1803. his 
father at that time being connected with a 
mining company in that part of the coun¬ 
try. When quite a child he was remarka¬ 
ble for tho mechanical ingenuity which he dis¬ 
played. and at the early age of 11 he attracted 
theattention of tho celebrated Count Platon, 
Viceroy of Norway, who became his patron 
and procured him the appointment of cadet 
in a corps of engineers. In 1816 ho was 
made nivelleur on the grand ship canal, be¬ 
tween tho Baltic and the North Sea. Two 
or threo years after, against the wishes of 
his parents, he entered tho Swedish army, 
and soon rose to the rank of Captain. He 
received his commission from Bernadotte, 
one of Napoleon’s ablest Marshals, and soon 
after his promotion was employed in the 
survey of Northern Sweden. In tho mean¬ 
while he devoted much reflection to his fa¬ 
vorite study of mechanics and invented the 
flame engine, one of his earliest achieve¬ 
ments, which was intended to bo operated 
by condensed flame instead of steam. 
In 1812 ho visited England, where he 
hoped to bring his invention into public no¬ 
tice, but soon made the discovery that when 
the engine was worked by mineral fuel, it 
proved unsuccessful. While there, in 1829, 
he competed for the prize offered by the Liv¬ 
erpool and Manchester railway for the best 
locomotive, and produced an engine that ac¬ 
complished the at that time wonderful speed 
of 50 miles an hour. This was the first en¬ 
gine of high speed that was ever produced, 
and it is needless to add, it won the well 
earned prize. In this connection we may 
state that Capt. Ericsson was the first man 
who over built a tubular boiler with artifi¬ 
cial draft. His inventive mind also con¬ 
structed a steam fire engine which has been 
long successfully used in that country. The 
screw propeller was also by him introduced 
and brought into practical use in England 
and subsequently in the United States.— 
Since his residence here he has been the au¬ 
thor of many important inventions and me¬ 
chanical improvements. His semi-cylindri¬ 
cal engino, his centrifugal blower, his in¬ 
strument for measuring distances at sea, his 
pyi’omoteral, sea lead, and other ingenious 
inventions, which we have not space to enu¬ 
merate, have already made the name of Er¬ 
icsson famous in the scientific world. 
But his last and gi'eatest achievement, and 
which bids fair to becomo an imperishable 
monument to his genius, is the Caloric En¬ 
gine, intended to supercede tho use of 
steam. This remai-kable production was 
first brought before the scientific world in 
London nearly twenty years ago, (without 
tho improvements of course which have 
since been added,) and was injected by the 
wise savans of that day as an impracticabili¬ 
ty and involving the absurdity of perpetu¬ 
al motion. But after a short i-esistance the 
principle of the Coloric theory was finally 
endorsed by the celebrated Faraday and 
others, and its practicability admitted, with 
the removal of certain objections. Thus en¬ 
couraged, Ericsson has steadily pursued tho 
subject ever since, built experimental en¬ 
gines of vai’ious powers, overcoming obsta¬ 
cles that would have appalled a mind of less 
fertility of invention and tenacity of pur¬ 
pose, until now the caloric engine has ar¬ 
rived at the consummation of success and 
stands before tho woi'ld a complete triumph, 
the cynic’s cold sneer and bigot’s unbelief 
to the contrary notwithstanding. 
Capt. Ericsson is a man of about 50 years 
of age, has a muscular, well developed and 
strongly knit frame, is of middle size, has a 
firm tread, a person who gives assurance of 
reserved strength, and a head with all the 
proper intellectual developments—the high 
foi’ehoad and prominent brow, marking a 
man of thought and the philosopher; ho 
has a dark complexien, with hair somowhat 
—Litencd by time, black eyes, introspective 
and ineffective rather than observing, a de 
cisive mouth, and tho mixed temperament, 
combining the nervous and bilious, which 
distinguishes the powerful in action and 
steady in endurance. The head rises in 
phrenological summit at benevolence, which 
is a distinguished feature in his charactei', 
and as an ovidence of this, it may be here 
said that on tho recent trial trip which 
pi-oved so ominetly successful, the only sign 
of self-gratulation that ho exhibited was the 
remai'k that he felt pi'oud in tho conviction 
that his invention would in its general ap 
plication be tho means of saving a vast 
amount of human life. 
In testimony of his many useful inven 
tions, Capt. Ericsson has received in several 
countries, prize medals, some of which are 
of gi*eat value. Ho is a knight of the Or¬ 
der of Vasa, and a member of many scienti¬ 
fic societies, and wo also add with much 
satisfaction that ho has becomo a citizen of 
the United States. 
PROVIDENCE OF GOD IN MINUTE EVENTS 
It is an oiToncous view to think of God 
as governing the grand phenomena of na¬ 
ture, and leaving those which are minute, to 
tho operation of a set of laws which he does 
not uphold at every moment in all the full¬ 
ness of their application. “ We cannot,” 
says Chalmers, “disjoin God from any part 
of the universe of God.” We may despise 
what is small, as beneath the notice of our 
pride; but nothing is too microscopic for 
Him who, while ho “measures tho waters in 
the hollow of his hand, and metes out the 
heavens with a span, and comprehends the 
dust of earth with a measure, and weighs 
tho mountains in scales, and tho hills in a 
balance,” yet numbci’S the very hairs of our 
heads, and knows of every sparrow that falls 
to the ground. 
The minutoness with which God provides 
for all wants is well brought in tho LXVth 
Psalm, where Dxivid speaks of Him as at¬ 
tending to the very sotting of tho furrows 
of tho field, and the watering of the ridges. 
“ Thou makest the outgoings of the morn¬ 
ing and evening to rejoice; Thou visitest 
the earth and waterest it; Thou greatly en- 
richest it with the river of God, which is full 
of water; Thou preparest them corn, when 
thou hast so provided them food ; Thou wa¬ 
terest tho ridges thereof abundantly; Thou 
settest the furrows thereof; Thou makest 
it soft with showers; Thou crownest tho 
year with Thy goodness, and thy paths drop 
fatness.”— Prof. Balfour. 
FEMALE DELICACY. 
Above other features which adoi'n tho fe- 
malo character, delicacy stands foremost 
within the province of good taste. Not that 
delicacy which is perpetually in quest of 
something t.o be ashamed of, which makes 
merit of a blush, and simpers at tho false 
construction its own ingenuity has put upon 
an innocent remark : this spurious kind of 
delicacy is as far removed from good taste as 
from good feeling and good sense; but the 
high-minded delicacy which maintains its 
pure and undoviating walk alike amongst 
women as in the society of men—which 
shrinks from no necessary duty, and can 
speak, when required, with seriousness and 
kindness of things at which it would be 
ashamed to smile or to blush—that delicacy 
which knows how to confer a benefit with¬ 
out wounding the feelings of another, and 
which understands also how and when to 
receive one—that delicacy which can give 
alms without assumption, and which pains 
not the most susceptible being in creation. 
Coleridge, speaking of short epigram¬ 
matic sentences, says:—Such a stylo an 
ancient critic would have deemed purposely 
inventod for persons troubled with the 
asthma to read, and for them to compre¬ 
hend who labor under the more pitiable 
asthma of a short-witted intellect. 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
THE HOUR OF PRAYER. 
BY IDA FAIRFIEI.D. 
Know ye the hour for prayer— 
The hour to lift the soul on high, 
To Him who dwelleth in the sky, 
Enthroned in air ? 
To plead for His protecting power, 
Who maketh every bird and flower, 
His own especial care. 
Perchance ye deem that time, 
Comes only with the mornings balm, 
Or in the evenings hour of calm, 
Or noon days prime. 
Perchance ye dare not lift a sigh, 
Save as the stated hour draws nigh 
For worship so sublime. 
Think not a Fathers care 
E’er wearies of the uplifted eye, 
The spirits low appealing cry— 
The heart laid Imre— 
Whene’er chat heart with sorrow fills, 
Whene’er its pulse with pleasure thrills, 
Then is the hour of prayer. 
If dreary is the day— 
If care and sorrow, hand in hand, 
With dark misfortunes ghostly bund, 
Meet o’er lifes way— 
If deaths dark form is hovering nigh, 
To sever some best cherished tie— 
Oh! lowly bend and pray. 
If joy be on the heart. 
And life’s full cup is brimming o’er, 
With earthly bliss, a plenteous store— 
No tear to start. 
If love's warm spell, is o’er ye thrown, 
» And health and wealth, and friends your own ; 
Pray, ere that joy depart. 
If e'er the soul grow strong, 
Amid this dark world din and strife, 
With yearnings for a better life, 
More freed from wrong— 
Pray, when that blessed thought is given, 
Be it at morning, noon, or even, 
The hour to God belongs. 
Pray then—oil! watch and pray! 
How glorious the thought, that He, 
Whose slightest nod is Heavens decree, 
Will kindly stay, 
For our weak cry, liis outstretched arm. 
Will spare all vengeance, and from harm 
Protect and guide our way. 
Walton, N. Y., April, ls53. 
For the Rural New-Yorker. 
“TAKE HEED HOW YOU HEAR!” 
How many, not only of those who are 
mei’e spectatoi’s, but worshippers in tho 
sanctuary, are heard to complain of their 
minister’s dullness in the pulpit. To such 
an one, who finds no good thing in tho ser- 
mon, I would put a question or two. 
Has it ever occurred to you that the fault 
may be in yourself, rather than in the ser¬ 
mon ? Have you ixot heard that James S. 
was aroused from his infidelity by means of 
that dull discourse ? Let me remind you, 
my bi’Otlier, that as tho sufferer from nau¬ 
sea loathes tho moist, dainty food, craving 
only that which would bo rejected by the 
natui-al appetite, so may not you, from your 
own lack of intei’est in the Gospel, turn from 
him who speaks of tho glorious future it 
offers to evei’y bolievei’, to isten to one who 
will pluixgo you in a deeper sleep with his 
words of peace ? 
What matters it to the blind, that you bid 
him look on the faii’est pictui-e that ever 
came from tho hand of tho Groat Artist ? 
To him it is all a blank. What charm has 
tho sweetest music, for him whose deafness 
makes the world one vast pantomime ?— 
Could you pi-each to the satisfaction of those 
whose thoughts wore away in tho world ? 
Does it not gladden your hoart to hear 
your best friend praised by another, though 
tho praise come from a heart too warm to 
study the best models of oxpi’ossion ? Would 
you know how to listen to good sermons, 
always ? Never start for the house of wor¬ 
ship till you have knelt to pray that your 
preacher may speak as may bo most to tho 
honor of your Father in Heaven, and that 
yourself may receive the truth into a good 
and honest heart. If a whole congregation 
should toil and pi’ay for tho moral regener¬ 
ation of those around them, could their 
minister’s dullness, or opposition, pi-event 
it ? Suissac. 
Whoever wishes to harvest the tears of 
pity must sow unsparingly the seods of gen¬ 
erous love. 
Cure fob toe Blues. —Luther says, 
“ When I am assailed with heavy tribula¬ 
tions, I rush out among my pigs rather than 
remain alone by myself. The human heart 
is like a millstone in a mill; when you put 
wheat under it, it turns and grinds and 
bruises the wheat to Hour: if you put no 
wheat in, it still grinds on, but then it is it¬ 
self it gx’inds and wears away.” 
Novel Reading. —It cannot but bo injuri¬ 
ous to tho human mind never fc> be called 
into effort. Tho habit of receiving pleasure 
without any exertion of thought, by tho 
mere excitement of curiosity and sensibility, 
may be justly ranked among the worst ef¬ 
fects of liabitual novel reading.— Coleridge. 
If rich, it is easy enough to conceal our 
wealth; but, if poor, it is not quite so easy 
to conceal our poverty. It is less difficult 
to hide a thousand guineas, than a hole in 
our coat. 
In matters of conscience, first thoughts 
are best; in matters of prudence, last tho'ts 
are best. 
