376 
MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND EMILY NEWSPAPER. 
(iBbiiatbnaL 
THE FEMALE TEACHER,-No. H. 
One of the greatest causes of failure in 
young female teachers, arises from timidity 
and a want of confidence in themselves. It 
is an amiable weakness, (if weakness it may 
bo called.) resulting from that gentleness of 
spirit and purity of heart, which challenges 
) the admiration of all men, and rondors the 
female character in its highest order of ex¬ 
cellence, akin to that of the angels. But it 
requires somo experience and ability, to en¬ 
force obedienco if necessary, in order to 
render a female teacher perfect mistress of 
the school-room. Pupils, at a much young¬ 
er ago than most people imagino, read the 
character of their teacher, and very soon 
understand whether or not they can tres¬ 
pass upon her authority with impunity. 
Once let a new teacher waver in the con¬ 
fidence of her own ability to rule, once let 
the school observe a doubt upon her own 
part as to who is to dictate and who to obey, 
and her government is from that moment 
ended. Sho should go into the school at 
the outset perfectly self-possessed, requir¬ 
ing obedienco, in all gentleness it is true, 
but in a manner which admits of no doubt 
as to the course to bo pursued. A boister¬ 
ous tone, a threatening aspect, and a flour¬ 
ish of authority, are not the evidences of 
perfect government either in church or 
state, in the home-circlo or in the school¬ 
room ; and tho female teacher is the last of 
all who have tho government of humanity, 
and especially of juvenile humanity, in their 
hands, that should indulge in them. A 
thunder cloud in a summer sky, from which 
come lightning and hail, is a more attrac¬ 
tive object of contemplation than the traces 
of angry passions in a woman’s face. A 
gentle but firm tone, a winning but an ear¬ 
nest way, a loving but a fearless heart, a 
meek but a commanding spirit aro traits of 
a superior teacher. 
Scholars aro ever ready to credit tho 
teacher with all she deserves, and univer¬ 
sally allow her a higher degree of intellec¬ 
tual pre-eminence than sho really possesses. 
It is difiicult to determine tho precise 
bounds of human knowledge, and when we 
see an individual, our own superior in intel¬ 
lectual endowments, or acquainted with 
matters to which wo are strangers, wo aro 
quite disposed to look up to him reverential¬ 
ly. All this is in tho teacher’s favor, and 
she must be lamentably deficient indeed, if 
she allows this sentiment to decline in the 
breast of her pupils. Scarcely any single 
thing inspires a pupil with a greater sense 
of his own importance, or sinks tho teacher 
in tho estimation of tho scholars generally, 
more than a knowledge of the fact that tho 
former is in any branch of study the latter’s 
superior. 
“ Susan parsed a sentence on which the 
teacher failed;” or, “John solved a prob¬ 
lem that tho mistress could not do,” goes 
through the school like the subtlo fluid on 
an electric wire. If the teacher is in doubt, 
or gets confused, or is at a loss on any of 
these matters, it is perfectly easy to postpone 
the consideration of tho subject to another 
day, either to post herself upon the point, 
or to get posted upon it by a friend, who 
has had the advantage of a more extended 
experience. 
A very distinguished female teacher, now 
deceased, who was for many years precep¬ 
tress of tho female department in one of the 
most flourishing literary institutions in the 
Western part of this Stato, and whoso hal- 
lowod memory will be over cherished by the 
largo numbor of those who had the oppor¬ 
tunity of profiting by her instruction, re¬ 
lated the following personal reminiscence to 
the writer : 
“ It was,” sho said, “ her first experience 
as teacher in a winter school.” Her literary 
qualifications, so far as sho had any, were 
self-acquired, having been, like many others 
of our young female teachers, limited in the 
opportunity as well as the means of educa¬ 
tion. Sho had never been over half way 
through the arithmetic, and as it chanced 
there came into the school several young 
men whoso mathematical knowledge was 
superior to her own. Under this combina¬ 
tion of circumstances sho set to work with 
an earnestness characteristic of herself, and 
actually kept out of the way, in advance of 
the class. “Many a night,” sho remarked, 
“ I sat up until two o’clock in the morning, 
to prepare myself for the next day’s lesson.” 
And the scholars nover suspected but that 
she was really at that time, the excellent 
mathematician which in fact she afterwards 
became. One of tho young men was sub¬ 
sequently heard to say,—“I studied arith¬ 
metic several winters before, but never un¬ 
derstood it until the winter Miss-taught 
in our district.” The name need not bo in¬ 
serted hero, the illustration only being 
wanted; but it will suggest itself to many a 
reader, and a tear of regretful memory for 
her decease will bo shed over her ashes.— 
Tho young female teacher, however, in tho 
light of her example and success, can truly 
say, 
“ But though oft oppressed and lonely, 
AH our fears are laid aside, 
If we but remember only, 
Such as these have lived and died.” 
In conclusion, then, wo would say to tho 
female teacher, enter upon your duties with 
humble but full confidence in your own 
powers; do whatsoever your good judg¬ 
ment dictates under tho various combina¬ 
tions of circumstances, so multiplied as to 
admit of no set of positive rules. Bo firm 
in your government but never tyrannical; 
and let tho scholars see by your works that 
you are earnest only for their good. Movo 
them forward by tho cords of love, rather 
than by tho spur of authority, and you 
will bo sure both of meriting and receiving 
the approval of your own conscience, the 
support of all good men, and tho smile of 
Heaven. 
For the Rural New-Yorker. 
THINK. 
Think ! think, for by so doing you will 
discipline and expand your mind. Think, 
too, upon something worthy of your con¬ 
sideration—upon thoso things which aro 
Calculated to elevate your whole moral and 
mental nature. 
Becomo master of your thoughts, so that 
you can command them at pleasure. When¬ 
ever you read, havo your thoughts about 
you. Make careful observations as you 
pass along, and select subjects upon which 
your mind shall dwell when your book shall 
have been laid aside. He who reads only 
for present gratification and neglects to di¬ 
gest what lie reads, nor calls it up for future 
contemplation, will not be likely to ever 
know tho oxtont of his own powers, for the 
test best calculated to make them known 
will remain unemployed. 
Consider tho great field which is open 
before you. The manifold works of nature 
—earth, sea, air with their inhabitants, and 
the heavenly bodies, all invito your atten¬ 
tion. Into whichever department you take 
your way, you will be amazed at the magni¬ 
tude and grandeur of the objocts by which 
you are surrounded, and your mind will bo 
filled with tho most exalted conceptions of 
the goodness, wisdom and power of tho 
Creator. s. g. \v. 
SELF-EDUCATION. 
Benjamin Franklin was a self-educated 
man. So was Benjamin West. The one 
among tho most distinguished philosophers, 
and the other among the best painters the 
world over saw. Each had a good teacher 
daily, because both were advancing daily in 
knowledge and in the art of acquiring it. 
Baron Cuvier was also a self-made man. 
He was at all times under a good teacher, 
because he was always ; taught by Baron 
Cuvier. He, more than any other man, 
perhaps than all other men before him, 
brought to light the hidden treasures of the 
earth. He not only examined and arranged 
the mineral productions of our globe, but 
ascertained that hundreds, and even thous¬ 
ands of different species of animals, once 
living, moving in the waters and upon the 
land, now form rocks and ledges, and even 
mountains. Cuvier thought, however, that 
he owed a constant debt of gratitude to his 
mother for his knowledge, because, when a 
child, she encouraged him in linear drawing, 
which was of tho utmost service in his pur¬ 
suits. To tho same encouragement tho 
world is, of course, indebted for the knowl¬ 
edge diffused by Cuvier among all nations. 
Sir Humphrey Davy, by “ self-instruc¬ 
tion,” mado more brilliant and more impor¬ 
tant discoveries in chemical science than 
any one who preceded or followod him.— 
Farmers, mechanics, housekeepers, and 
many others, aro now enjoying tho benefits 
of his labors. 
Elibu Burritt, by self-instruction, had ac¬ 
quired at tho age of thirty years fifty lan¬ 
guages ; and that, too, while ho was labor¬ 
ing vigorously over tho forge and anvil 
from six to twelve hours daily. 
Tho late Dr. Bowditch taught himself 
until he exceeded all who had gone before 
him in mathematical science. 
Roger Sherman, whose name will descend 
to posterity as one of the ablest statesmen 
and brightest ornaments of tho Amorican 
Congress, taught himself while working up¬ 
on his shoe bench. 
George Washington was a self-made 
man. His namo will fill all future ages with 
reverence. 
There were hosts of others, who in for¬ 
mer ages moved tho intellectual and moral 
world: also among thoso who now move 
and elevate themselves. Such must be the 
fact in all future ages. 
Everd child is his own teacher. lie toach- 
himsolf things, and every thing coming un¬ 
der his observation—animals, vegetables, 
minerals, tools and operations of farmers, 
mechanics, and housekeepers—science and 
ait. Ho teaches himselt by seeing, hearing, 
tasting, smelling, feeling, talking,"handling, 
usirig and comparing things, and their ope¬ 
rations with each other; also cause with 
effect. Every child of common talents 
learns a language boforo ho is three or four 
years of ago. Many thousand children now 
in our country, not over five years, speak 
fluently two languages—the English and 
tho German. 
THE LYRE BIRD. 
Tuts beautiful bird, of which the above is , 
a representation, is a native of New South 
ales. It resembles the common pheasant ' 
m size, but its limbs are longer in propor- 
there are other considerable points j 
of dilferonce. The wings are short, con- ' 
cave and rounded, and the quill feathers j 
are lax and feeble; the general plumage is i 
full, deep, soft and downy. The tail, how- | 
ever, is very remarkable;* it is modified into ! 
a beautiful, long, plume-like ornament, rop- I 
resenting, when erect and expanded, the ' 
figure of a lyre ; hence its name—tho lyre 
md while, as the type of a new genus, it 
lias received tho appellation of menura su - j 
perba. 
1 his ornamented tail is restricted to tho . 
nialo bird. It consists of sixteen feathers ; 
of those tho outer one on each side is broad- i 
lj .but loosely webbed within, its outer web ; 
being narrow ; as it proceeds it curves out- j 
wards, bends in, and again turns boldly out- 
wards and downwards, both together resem¬ 
bling the framework of an ancient lyre, of 
which tho intermediate feathers aro tho 
strings; these feathers, except tho two con- 
tial, which are truly but narrowly webbed 
on the outer side, consist each of a slender 
shaft, with long filaments, at a distance 
from each other, and springing out alter¬ 
nately. The appearance of these feathers, 
the length of which is about two feet, is pe¬ 
culiarly graceful ; their color is amber brown, 
but tho two outer tail feathers are gray 
tipped with black, edged with rufous, and 
transversely marked on the inner web with 
transparent triangular bars. In tho female 
the tail is long and graduated, and the 
feathers are perfectly webbed on both sides 
of the shaft, although their texture is soft 
and flowing. The general plumage of tho 
menura is amber brown above, tinged with 
olive, and merging into rufous on the wings 
and also on the throat. Tho under parts 
are ashy gray. Mr. Gould says that, were 
he requested to suggest an emblem for 
Australia among its birds, ho would select 
the menura or lyre bird as being tho most 
appropriate, being not only strictly peculiar 
to Australia, but, as far as is yet known, to 
the colony of New .South Wales. 
Tho bird is exceedingly shy, and honco 
the same eminent naturalist says : While 
among tho brushes I havo been surrounded 
by these birds pouring forth their loud and 
liquid calls for days together, without being 
able to get a sight of thorn; and it was only 
by tho most determined perseverance and 
extreme caution that I was enabled to effect 
this desirable object, which was rendered 
tho more difficult by their often frequenting 
the most inaccessablo and precipitous sides 
of gullies and ravines, covered with tangled 
massos of creepers and umbrageous trees; 
tho crackling of a stick, the roiling down of 
a small stone, or any other noiso however 
slight, is sufficient to alarm it; and nono but 
thoso who have traversed tho rugged, hot 
and sufiocating brushes can fully under¬ 
stand the labor attendant on the pursuit of 
tho menura.. Independently of climbing over 
rocks and fallen trunks of trees, tho sports¬ 
man has to creep and crawl boneath and 
among the branches with the utmost cau¬ 
tion, taking care only to advance when tho 
scratching up the leaves in search of food. 
To watch its actions it is nccessarv to re¬ 
main perfectly motionless, not venturing to 
move oven in the slightest degree, or it van¬ 
ishes from sight as if by magic. 
I hese birds build in old hollow trunks of 
trees which are lying on the ground, or in 
the holes of rocks. Tho nest is merely 
formed of dried grass or dried loaves sci’ap- 
ed together. The female lays from twelve 
to sixteen eggs, of a white color, with a few 
scattered light blue spots. One nest was 
observed placed on a prominent point of 
a rock, in a situation quite secure from ob¬ 
servation from behind, but affording the bird 
a commanding view and easy retreat in 
front. It was of largo size, formed out¬ 
wardly of sticks; it was deep and basin- 
shaped, and lined inwardly with the inner 
bark of trees and fibrous roots, and it had 
tho appoarance of having been roofed. 
The lyre bird is of a wandering disposi¬ 
tion, and though keeping probably to the 
same brush, it constantly traverses from one 
end to the other, from the mountain top to 
the bottom of the gullies. It is said to bo 
able at one leap to pass over as much as ten 
feet in a perpendicular direction from tho 
ground. It seldom takos wing, but is fond 
of traversing trunks of fallen trees, and fre¬ 
quently reaches a considerable height by 
leaping from branch to branch. 
.Solitary in its habits, it sometimes shows 
a different disposition. On one occasion 
Mr. Gould saw two males at play; they 
were chasing each other round and round 
with extraordiny rapidity, pausing every 
now and then to utter their loud, shrill calls. 
While thus occupied they carried their tails 
horizontally, as they always do when mov¬ 
ing quickly through tho brush, that being 
tho only position in which this largo organ 
could bo conveniently borne at such times. 
INTERESTING STATISTICS. 
The wholo number of languages spoken 
in tho world amounts to 3,064; viz : 587 in 
Europe, 937 in Asia. 27G in Africa, and 1,- 
264 in America. The inhabitants of our 
globe, profess more than 1,000 different re¬ 
ligions. Tho numbor of men is about equal 
to the number of women. Tho average of 
human life is about 33 years. One-fourth 
die previous to the age of 7 years, one half 
before reaching 17 years of ago, and thoso 
who pass that age enjoy a felicity refused to 
one-half tho human species. To every 1,- 
000 persons, only one reaches 100 years of 
age; to every 10*0, only six reach tho age of 
66, and not more than one in 600 live to 80 
years of ago. 
There are on the earth 1,000,000,000 of 
inhabitants, and of those 333,333,333 die 
every year, 90,324 overy day, 3,730 overy 
hour, 60 overy minute, or 1 every second. 
Thoso losses are about balanced by an equal 
number of births. The married are longer 
lived than tho single, and above all, those 
who observe a sober and industrious con¬ 
duct. Tall men live longer than short ones! 
Women have more chances of life in their 
favor previous to boing 50 years of ago than 
inon, but fewer afterwards. 
Tho number of marriages is in propor¬ 
tion of 175 to every 1,000 individuals. Mar¬ 
riages are moro frequent after the equi¬ 
noxes—that is, during tho months of June 
and December. Those born in tho spring 
aro generally more robust than others.— 
Births and deaths aro moro frequent by 
night than by day. The number of mon 
capablo of working or bearing arms, is cal¬ 
culated at one-fourth of the population. 
Opium. —Many part3 of India aro well 
adapted to the production of opium, both 
in climate and rate of wages, and hence it 
produces by far the greatest quantity in tho 
world—not less for exportation than 50,000 
chests of 140 pounds each, or 7,000,000 of 
pounds. This great quantity is used by the 
Malays, Javanese, and others; but above 
all, by the Chinese, always much diluted 
and always in tho form of fume; and it 
stands to them exactly in tho same rela¬ 
tion that foreign wines and ardent spirits 
do to the nations of Europe .—Edinburgh 
Review. 
<\ 
m 
I SEE TEES STILL. 
BY CHARLES SITfAOUE. 
I see thee still; 
Remembrance, faithful to her trust, 
fells* thee in beauty from the dust; 
Thou comest in the morning light, 
Ihourt with me through the gloomy night; 
In dreams I meet thee as of old; 
Then thy soft arms my neck enfold, 
And thy sweet voice is in my ear; 
In every scene of memory dear 
I see thee still. 
I see thee still; 
In* every hallowed token round; 
This little ring thy finger bound; 
This lock of hair thy forehead shaded; 
This silken chain by thee was braided’; 
These flowers, all withered now, like thee, 
Sweet sister, tliou dic’st cull for me; 
This book was thinc-hero did’st thou read; 
This picture—all, yes, here, indeed, 
I see thee still. 
I see thee still; 
Here was thy summer noon's retreat; 
Here was thy favorite fireside seat; 
This was thy chamber—here each day, 
I sat and watched thy sad decay; 
Here on this bed, thou last did'st lie: 
Hero on this pillow, thou did’st die — 
Dark hour! once more its woe unfold— 
As then I saw thee, pale and cold, 
I see thee still. 
I see tlice still, 
Thou art not in the grave confined— 
Death cannot chain tho immortal mind; 
Let earth close o’er its sacred trust, 
But goodness dies not in the dust. 
Thee, O my sister ! ’tis not thee 
Beneath the coffin’s lid I see; 
Thou to a fairer land art gone, 
There, let me hope, my journey done, 
I see thee still. 
Written for the Rural New-Yorker. 
THE FALLEN OAK.—TIME’S DOINGS. 
Rambling in tho forost in the musing au- 
tuinn-timo. I chanced to seat myself on 
the mossy trunk of an ancient oak, and 
thus my fancies shaped themselves, half- 
dreamingly : 
Long, long ago, tho gorm of this fallen 
and docaying trunk, lay bidden and slumber¬ 
ing in tho tiny cup of an acorn. Then, thro’ 
many dangers— 
“But warmed in heaven’s sunshine, and fanned by its 
breath,” 
it sprang up, a slight shoot almost too small 
for notice. The fostering atmosphere of 
many a summer added to its growth and 
beauty—tho snows of many a winter were 
piled around its base, and lodged in its arch¬ 
ing top, ero it grow to look over tho heads 
of its humbler neighbors. It stood, tho 
prido—the monarch of tho forost for years, 
—but when they wore counted by eontu- 
ries, tho life-sap ceased to circulate ; and its 
honors of leaf, and twig, and branch, were 
wasted one by ono, and, after a long and 
desperate struggle with tho elements, a 
barkless and jagged trunk, it fell to tho 
earth, lime and Decay havo dono their 
best to crumble it back to dust, but an air 
of grandeur yot clings to it as to somo hoary 
and mysterious ruin of the elder world. 
Since that oak has been in being, how 
many generations of men havo lived and 
died—have played their brief parts in the 
drama of life, and left tho stage of mortal 
existenco forever ! Since that littlo shoot 
first lifted tho dry leaves which hid its 
tender head from tho sunshine, how much 
ol change lias tho earth witnessed ! How 
much our own country ! What an oak tho 
acorn has become—to flourish, wo trust,for 
ages yet — which the littlo May Flower 
brought to our shores .'-—what a nation was 
hidden within its narrow confines l 
And, what gave all this change and pro¬ 
gross to tho oak—to tho world, to our na¬ 
tion ? It was Time ! Time brought forth tho 
shoot and gave it vigor and strength, as 
woll as ago and decay. Time has brought 
tho world to its present stato in the great 
cycle of its duration. So unto us, Timo 
gives the spring of life, tho happy period of 
childhood, tho elastic hour of youth, tho 
vigorous noon of manhood, as well as tho 
chill evoning of ago. Then call him no 
harsh names: 
Forget not this, ye aged and gray— 
Though Time lias marked your brow, 
The earlier joys lie gave do stay, 
To bless and gladden now. 
Kind to your souls the deeds of Time, 
Children of Toil and Trust; 
From his realm ye rise to Heaven's clime—• 
He claimeth but your dust 1>. 
Forty Acres of Bibles.— The last num- 
'ber of tho Biblo Record, the useful and sug¬ 
gestive little paper of tho Bible Society, 
states tho issues of tho Society for tho past 
vear to bo 800,000 Bibles and Testaments. 
Thoso books, ho estimates, if they were 
spread out on a plain surface, and computed 
by squaro measuro, would cover moro than 
lour acres. If the same issues were compu¬ 
ted by long measure they would extend 
moro than eight miles. If by solid or cubic 
moasuro moro than ono hundred and fifty 
solid cords. And thoso cords, piled ono up¬ 
on anothor, would roach higher than tho 
spiro of Trinity Church, New York, or tho 
Falls of Niagara. Tho entire issue for tho 
thirty-soven years of tho Society’s existence, 
would cover moro than forty acres with 
Bibios and Testaments: or extend in long 
moasuro nearly a thousand miles ; or make 
eighteen hundred and fifty solid cords. 
