MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY NEWSPAPER, 
dRmnitional Department. 
BY L. WETHERELL. 
For the Rural New-Yorker. 
RESULTS FROM LANGUAGE. 
BY PROF. C. DEWEY. 
Curious origin of words—Meaning various and 
different—Primary and secondary—Tracing of 
nations. 
Language was coeval with man. Tho 
earliest history of man in any nation in¬ 
volves language, either written or spoken. 
It is difficult for us to conceive of a people 
without language. We naturally consider 
language as necessary to man, and man as 
necessary for speech and words. IIow man 
could form the language we cannot decide; 
how ho could live in any society without it, 
is beyond our thought. 
In our languages are many words for the 
existence of which, no reason can be given, 
except that they are in use, and were orig¬ 
inal words in the speech of men. Thus 
gold, silver, peace, war, am, he, light, dark¬ 
ness, &c., are of this kind, and if they can 
bo traced to any other language, you there 
come to their root, which often is inexpli¬ 
cable. In some cases a word is formed on 
some property, as mica, a mineral which 
shines, and is named from a Latin word, 
which means to shine or glisten. But, if 
we inquire how that word came to mean to 
shine, often no answer can bo given but 
that so it is. The samo thing has a differ¬ 
ent name often in different languages.— 
Thus, gold is aurum in Latin, chrusos in 
Greek, and another word in Hebrew; time 
is tempus in Latin, and chronos in Greek; 
and so of many others. Ilenco arises the 
labor of learning a foreign language; be¬ 
cause tho words and their constructions are 
so diverso. IIow came these words into 
language, if it was the work of man ? 
Many words in our language may be 
traced to other languages, and thus back 
wards to other and older languages. There 
are many hundred words in the Sanscrit 
language, which are found in the later lan¬ 
guages of Asia and Europe, and bf course 
among people of European origin. Thus, 
tho learned assure us, that our word father, 
wuich in Greek and Latin is pater, is in 
Sanscrit, fader; evidently, all had tho same’ 
origin; so mother, brother, son, daughter, 
and a host of others are found in the San¬ 
scrit. This proves that these languages 
must have had a common source, and that 
tho people using the words originated from 
one and the same stock. This is a vast 
conclusion, of mighty importance. It ena¬ 
bles the learned to trace the different na¬ 
tions of Europe and Asia to ono head, and 
compels them to adopt this belief. Many 
nations of Africa and of America, even of 
tho native inhabitants, have words which 
are traced to the languages of the east, and 
prove whence they originated. 
Many words come to mean something 
entirely different from the primary sense, 
on account of some relation which exists. 
Thus style, or manner of expressing our 
thoughts, came from a word in Greek and 
Latin, which means a column, upright sticky 
thence a pen, because this instrument is 
used to write with, and was originally a 
straight stick or rod for making letters.— 
Hence the Greeks and Latins, as well as tho 
English and ourselves, mean also by style in 
language, tho peculiar manner in which a 
speaker or writer enunciates his ideas by 
words. Stylo, in this sense, is an entirely 
different thing from the instrument used in 
writing; and yet, the relation is evident, on 
which the word came to have this peculiar, 
significant, and important secondary moan- 
ing. 
So tho word, spirit, is in Greek from a 
word which means to breathe, and hence 
also signifies breath, air, wind. In Latin, 
the origin and meaning of spirit is the same. 
As breath, or breathing is that by which we 
live, and is the indication of life in us, spirit 
came to mean the living thing in man, the 
soul of man, the intellect, the mind, that 
which is tho grand characteristic of man.— 
The relation on which this secondary mean¬ 
ing of tho word is founded, is obvious, and 
this meaning is entirely different and dis¬ 
tinct from that of the word in its primary 
force- Tho Greeks and the Latins used 
this meaning of the word abundantly, as 
entirely remote from breath, or air, or wind, 
as we do. But in English, the original use 
of spirit has long since nearly ceased from 
tho language, and it now intends, in our 
moral and intellectual writings, tho imma¬ 
terial part of man, tho mind, the soul of 
man. The word soul is of .Saxon origin, and 
is used like spirit, for the .name of that in 
man which thinks, reasons, understands, and 
feels moral obligation. Spirit involves the 
belief in tho existence of tho immaterial, 
immortal part of man. To use tho word 
spirit Or bouI, as meaning breath o,r air, is 
an abuse of language and a trifling with 
our reason. It is as .absurd as to mean by 
THE 
THE RHINOCEROS. 
After the elephant, tho rhinoceros is tho 
most powerful of all quadrupeds. lie is at 
least twelve feet in length, from the extrem¬ 
ity of the snout to the tail; six or seven 
feet in height; and tho circumference of 
his body is very nearly equal to bis length ; 
he is therefore like tho elephant in bulk; 
and if ho appears much smaller, it is be¬ 
cause his legs are much shorter in propor¬ 
tion to those of tho elephant; but ho dif¬ 
fers widely from that sagacious animal, in 
his natural faculties, and his intelligence; 
having received from nature merely what 
she grants in common to animals, deprived 
of all feeling in the skin, having no organ 
answering tiio purpose of hands, nor dis¬ 
tinct for the sense of feeling, he has noth¬ 
ing instead of a trunk, but a movable up¬ 
per lip, in which centres all his dexterity. 
He is superior to other animals only in 
strength, size, and tho offensive weapon 
which ho carries upon his nose, and which 
is peculiar to him. This weapon is a very 
hard horn,solid throughout, and placed more 
advantageously than the horns on ruminat¬ 
ing animals; these only protect tho superi¬ 
or parts of the head and neck, whilst the 
horn of tho rhinoceros defends all tho ex¬ 
terior parts of tho snout, and proservo the 
BLACK RHINOCEROS, GIVING THE CHASE. 
muzzle, the mouth, and the face from in¬ 
sult ; so that tho tiger attacks more readily 
the elephant in seizing his trunk, than the 
rhinoceros, which he cannot attack in front, 
without running tho danger of being killed; 
for tho body and limbs are covered with an 
impenetrable skin; and this animal fears 
neither the claws of the tiger nor tho lion, 
nor even the fire and weapons of the hunts¬ 
man ; his skin is a dark leather, of the same 
color, but thicker and harder than that of 
the elephant; ho docs not feel the sting of 
flies ; he cannot contract his skin ; it fs on¬ 
ly folded by large wrinkles on the neck, the 
shoulders, and the buttocks, to facilitate the 
motions of tho legs, which are massive, and 
terminate in largo feet, armed with three 
great claws. 
Without being useful, as tho elephant, 
the rhinoceros is very hurtful, by tho pro¬ 
digious devastation which ho makes in the 
fields. The skin is tho most valuable part 
of this animal. His flesh is excellent, ac¬ 
cording to the taste of Indians and negroes. 
Kolben says, ho has often eaten it with 
great pleasure. His skin makes the best 
and hardest leather in tho world ; and not 
only his horn, but all the other parts of his 
body, and even his blood, his urine, and his 
excrements, are esteemed as antidoes agasint 
poison, or a remedy against several diseas¬ 
es; however, all those virtues are imaginary. 
Tho •rhinoceros feeds upon herbs, thistles, 
prickles, and shrubs; and he prefers this 
wild food to the sweet pasture of tho ver¬ 
dant meadows; ho is very fond of sugar- 
canes, and eats all sorts of corn. Having 
no taste whatever for flesh, he does not mo¬ 
lest small animals, neither fears the large 
ones, living generally in poaco with them 
all, oven with the tiger, who often accompa¬ 
nies him, without daring to attack him. 
Tho rhinoceroses do not herd together, 
nor march in troops, like the elephant; they 
are wilder, and more solitary, and perhaps 
more difficult to bo hunted and subdued.— 
They never attack men unless provoked; 
but then they become furious, and are very 
formidable. The steel of Damascus, the 
cimetors of Japan, cannot make an incision 
in his skin ; the darts and lances cannot 
pierce him through. His skin even resists 
tho balls of a musket; thoso of lead be¬ 
come flat upon his leather, and the iron in¬ 
gots cannot penetrate through it. Tho only 
places absolutely ponotrablo in this body, 
armed with a cuirass, are tho belly, tho eyes, 
and round tho ears; so that the huntsman, 
instead of attacking this animal standing, 
follows him at a distance by his track, and 
waits to approach him at tho time that he 
sleeps or rests himself. 
a dry or hard style, an obscure or a flowery 
style, that the stylus or pen used in the wri¬ 
ting is dry, or hard, or obscure or flowery. 
The man who does not know those distinc¬ 
tions and differences of meanings in the 
samo word, is not qualified to hold inter¬ 
course with men, much less to attempt to 
instruct men in either civil, moral, or re 
ligious things. 
SPELLING. 
“ Where I may sit and rightly spell.” 
Very little has been said upon the sub¬ 
ject of Spelling. Teachers sometimes com¬ 
plain that our paper is not practical enough. 
They need more remarks upon the way in 
which the affairs of the school-room should 
be conducted. It is pleasant to the farmer 
to find in the journal devoted to his busi¬ 
ness, some hints that shall direct him in his 
daily work. Some plain direction as to 
the way in which his scythe may bo hung 
to better advantage wbuld bo far more ac¬ 
ceptable than a whole discourse upon vege¬ 
table nutrition. This is very obvious; wo 
see the reason of it. So it seems to us, that 
a few remarks upon so plain a subject as 
spelling will not be unacceptable to many 
of the thousand readers of the Teacher. 
Spelling is very important; lie that can 
“ rightly spell,” presents good evidence of 
being well educated. Tho time was when 
this exercise was far moro attended to than 
now. It was a part of the daily, and oven 
semi-daily, routine of the school room. In 
those times, spelling schools and “ choosing 
sides,” illustrated many a page of life’s his~ 
tory. IIow often have we known the suc¬ 
cessful pupil win his way, in the very teeth 
of opposition, to the “ head,” and then, by a 
voluntary degradation, sink immediately to 
tho “foot.” to go over tho samo ground 
again. We do not believe that Napoleon, 
who bartered in thrones and crowns, ever 
won battles and accepted tho allegiance of 
conquered kings with more pleasure than 
such a pupil passed up by the less success¬ 
ful or less ambitious members of the class, 
as one passes the mile stones on a swift 
journey. But in these days, when human 
nature is so much better appreciated, such 
unholy ambition must be ** flung away.” 
Emulation is thought to bo a dangerous 
principle. The philanthropist is “abroad” 
with the schoolmaster and reforms mul¬ 
tiply. 
But, from one cause and another, the 
days of such patient devotion to'spelling 
havo gone past. Now it is thought of 
greater importance that one say “ comme 
vous. portez vous” correctly, than that he 
“ rightly spell ” his own English. We must 
understand “ hydrostatics ” before we can 
spell it. Our attention in tho school-room 
has been too much devoted to higher 
branches at tho expense of tho lower and 
more important ones. No man is well edu¬ 
cated, however much French and algebra 
ho may know, who cannot spell without 
danger of egregioiis mistakes. If he is 
surcharged with rhetoric, and knows not 
common grammar, he is at least ignorant 
of what ho ought to know, and the mode of 
instruction that leaves him so is liable to a 
severe charge. Is there any method of 
conducting a spelling exercise better than 
the one known in our boyhood ? Possibly, 
there may be. It is difficult, however, to 
uggost any method of acquiring this arts 
without labor. Tho way of knowledge, as 
of virtue, is up hill, and if we wait till every 
task is made easy and pleasant before we 
insist upon tho performance of it, we shall 
be as unwise as those who would have no 
religion till the natural heart loves and de¬ 
sires it. 
Spelling is, as we all know, a difficult 
business. Much time and attention must 
bo devoted to it in childhood or manhood, 
or wo shall offend here. Our noble lan¬ 
guage is full of anomalies. It is composed 
of rich deposits, but, like the solid crust of 
the earth, it seems to have been somewhat 
shaken and dislocated in cooling. Knowl¬ 
edge of spelling with us, therefore, is more 
a matter of facts than association ; meipory 
has more to do with it than reason. It is 
as much a matter of habit as of reflection, 
and practice in early life is rather 4>ottor 
that theory in riper ago. The method of 
spelling wo havo alluded to was effective, 
but not faultless. It consumed much time. 
Our fathers and mothers Dad little else to 
do in the school-room. They circumnavi¬ 
gated a spelling book and a Psalter, and 
then received a diploma ! But we appre¬ 
hend that in many of our schools, as out- 
academies, and higher schools, wo cannot 
now return to this way, and march our pu¬ 
pils out on to the floor in single file for a 
drill in the spelling-book. It would be vul¬ 
gar; every generation is wiser in its day 
than its predecessors ; so many of our older 
pupils would resent a mode of treatment, 
that so plainly reminded them of their ig¬ 
norance at every point. We must flatter 
their pride a little, and, according to the 
customs of tho age, adopt a method a little 
moro philosophical, and a little less la- 
box-ious. 
IIow shall we teach spelling, then ? A 
teacher well known in this Commonwealth 
suggested to the writer the following method, 
which has* been employed in his own school 
with good success. The details may of 
coui-se be varied to suit any school of a 
similar kind. The method which the writer, 
in compliance with the above suggestion, 
has adopted is this:—We have but two pub¬ 
lic exercises during the week, generally at 
the close of tho afternoon school. As a 
preparation for these exercises, fifty words 
are written upon tho blackboard a sufficient 
time bofoi-eliand to enable each pupil to 
study them, copy them, if ho sees fit. At 
the time appointed, these words are erased 
from the board ; all lists and copies must be 
laid aside; and tho pupils havo pi-ovided 
themselves with pencils and slips of paper 
sufficiently large to contain the whole les¬ 
son. Each pupil must put his name at the 
head of his list. The teacher then an¬ 
nounces the words in any order that may 
be suggested at tho moment. Each word 
is pronounced twice, and then some brief 
sentence containing the word is suggested, 
so that tho pupil uxay have the advantage 
of knowing the meaning as well as tho 
sound. The exex-cise usually occupies but 
fifteen minutes. Tho lists are then gath- 
ered up without allowing tho privilege of 
cori-ection ; and the exercises of the school 
go on as befoi-o. In this way, one hundred 
words a week, and, in a term of foui-teen 
weeks, tnoi-e than one thousand words, pass 
under review. In a year’s exercise, near¬ 
ly all the common words in our language, 
which afford any danger of error might be 
submitted to scrutiny. 
The lists written upon tho board ai-o usu¬ 
ally composed in this way :—The words are 
taken fi-om newspapers and common books, 
as the eye is suffered to pass over tho page. 
Wo select only thoso words that are in 
danger of being misspelled. Hence, most 
words of one syllable may bo omitted, and 
many polysyllables affoi-d no temptation to 
erroi-, unless thei-e is an “ obstinate activity” 
in wrong doing. Some lists may bo com¬ 
posed of proper pcx-sonal names, and then 
again of geographical names, or scientific 
terms, or other matters, as tho head may 
suggest. After the exercise, the lists are 
examined by the teachers, 01 % by a far bet¬ 
ter method, they are distributed by tens to 
those of the pupils who have shown them¬ 
selves above tho danger of gross eri-or. 
They are expected to l-eport the next morn¬ 
ing, and the result is read to the school. If 
any of the pupils have exhibited too much 
negligence, they are expected thereafter to 
I spell in private, in preparation for tho pub- 
' lie exei-cise, till they give some symptoms of 
convalescence. 
The advantages of this method are obvi 
ous. It is a pleasant exercise; scholars 
l-arely fail to become interested, however 
listless they may havo been before. The 
“ moi-ning news ” is frequently sought as 
eagerly as despatches from Congress. And 
then, the words are written, and not mei-elv 
spelled. Nothing is moro common than 
for pupils to spell with infallible accui-acy, 
xxnd then dishonor all the rules of orthog¬ 
raphy in writing the samo words. This 
evil is in a great measure obviated. Pupils 
also learn to write with accui-acy. That 
kind of cax-elessness that considers an e le¬ 
gal tender for an a, or decides that certain 
twitches of tho pen belong to the genus of 
t's or i’ s, simply because they are surmount¬ 
ed by a cross or dot, meets with little favor 
here. This method may not be so appi-o- 
priato for young pupils ; but for advanced 
schools it cannot but be pi-ofitable. If it is 
not the best way, it is certainly a fair sub¬ 
stitute till we find the pei-fect method.— 
Our pupils must in some way be taught to 
spell.— Massachusetts Teacher. 
• Call not that man wi-etched who, what¬ 
ever else ho suffers as to pain inflicted, 
pleasure denied, has a child for whom he 
hopes, and on whom he dotes. Poverty 
may grind him to tho dust, obscurity may 
casf its darkest mantle over him, the song 
of tho gay may bo far from his own dwell¬ 
ing, his face may bo unknown to his neigh- 
bors, and his voice ixxay bo unheeded by 
those among whom ho dwells—even pain 
may rack his joints and sleep flee from his 
pillow; but ho has a gem with which lie 
would not part for wealth-defying compu¬ 
tation, for fame filling a world’s ear, for the 
luxury of the highest health, or for the 
sweetest sleep that over sat upon a mortal’s 
eye.—Coleridge. 
Truth may, perhaps, in the estimation of 
men, come up to tho price of a pearl, that 
showeth best by day; but it will not rise to 
the price of a diamond or carbuncle, which 
showeth best in varied lights. —Lord Bacon. 
“SLEEP ON MY LOVE.” 
Sleep on my love, in thy cold bed, 
• Never to be disquieted : 
My last “good night!” thou wilt not wake 
Till I thy fate shall overtake; 
Till age, or grief, or sickness, must 
Marry my body to that dust 
It so much loves; and fill the room 
My heart keeps empty in the tomb. 
Stay for me there; I will not fail 
To meet thee in that hollow vale, 
And think not much of my delay; 
I am already on the way; 
And follow thee with all the speed 
Desire can make, or sorrow breed, 
Each minute is a short degree, 
And every hour a step towards thee, 
At night, when I betake to rest, 
Next morn I rise nearer my west 
Of life, almost by eight hours’ sail 
Tiian when sleep breathed his drowsy gale. 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
A DREAM OF HEAVEN. 
Men often aro not aware of what sovere 
and untiring labor they aro capable, until 
they have made trial of their strength. 
A child lay dreaming. Tho beautiful 
sunlight of the morning stole softly through 
the lattice, and kissed her sweet, cherub 
lips. The birds of Spring sang sweetly, 
and all nature was vocal with praise to tho 
Infinite—the Eternal. Tho pulsation of 
that young, puro heart beat quick and fast, 
as in its spirit-com'munings, the vulgar world 
was shut out, and a voice—an Angel’s whis¬ 
per—came floating in softly, soothingly upon 
the soul. All was calm, sereno and beauti¬ 
ful in her “ dream of Heaven.” A lifetime 
passed, but not in reality—she was dream¬ 
ing. The joys, the pleasures of tho futui-e 
world were present—the soul had left its 
prison-house, and was reveling in the joys 
of that upper sphere. Ah! happy child ! 
High in thy “ holy habitations,” thou art, in¬ 
deed, blest—doubly blest! And fairy fingers 
lifted her golden ringlets as slio communed 
with the Father of spirits. 
It was a beautiful, bright dream. Tho 
scenes of tho retrospective past mingled in 
sweet communion, in the soul’s revery—tho 
path of life—the treacherous, untrodden 
path, stretched out befoi-o her airy vision— 
the pleasures, the trials, the triumphs, of 
tho lower world, roso up in the dim distanco, 
along the stream of time, and contrasted 
sti’angely with the scenes of that better world. 
The child awoke. But the beautiful dream 
of Heaven had left its impress upon her soul. 
She passed into maidenhood—into wo¬ 
manhood. And how holy tho iniluence of 
that oarly dream !—how pure tho aspira¬ 
tions—how elevated tho affections it called 
into existence! 
Then time and experience came—tho 
world, with its pleasures, its gaities. its fol¬ 
lies—and the bright visions of the past were 
forgotten. Sho worshipped at an unholy 
shrine. 
Then years rolled on; and ago and dis¬ 
appointment furrowed her cheek. “ Rich¬ 
es had taken to themselves wings,” and tho 
pleasures of the world had lost their power 
to charm. In vain sought slio her soul’s 
rest. In vain ? Ah ! Till a Savior’s love 
brought back her soul from its wanderings, 
and the spirit of tho Eternal called her to 
enjoy tho fruition of her early Dream of 
Heaven. S. Furman. 
Romulus Centre, N. Y. July 1852. 
THE SABBATH. 
There is no land where—all religious ob¬ 
ligations aside—the Sabbath is so necessary 
as in this country. We should become bar- 
barians without it. Already the lust of mo¬ 
ney and distinction, acting upon natures 
lashed by our peculiar institutions into tho 
most vehement emulations, wrinkles almost 
every brow, and makes anxiety a constant 
presence and power at which strangers gaze 
and wonder. Our very pleasures have this 
dash of impatience about them ; and our 
days and hours burned on the whirl of con¬ 
stant excitement, lose their distinctness, and 
mingle in a mass in which the better reason¬ 
ing faculty can distinguish little that ac¬ 
cords with tho natural purposes of life.— 
Were this eager Hunt of gold or rank unin¬ 
terrupted, it would soon sweep away before 
it all that elevates and purifies human, na¬ 
ture or gives tho grace and goodness of life. 
The Sabbath stays the severer pulses of 
society, it opens the low and dark clouds 
that gather round the heart, and lets in tho 
light of better thoughts and loftier feelings. 
To lose this l’ecurring dispensation from tho 
cure of tho impetuous life-struggle, would 
bo to l-eiider our destiny that of the dun¬ 
geon slave. While, therefore, wo regard 
the desecration of the Sabbath as primarily 
offensive as a violation of a divine law, we 
condemn it as a war against the better cliar- 
ities of life-—as a wrong done to the heavy 
ladoned—as a step taken outwards to bar- 
barism. 
We see with great regret a constant ten¬ 
dency to the loss of tho Sabbath. This is 
the gi-eatest in those communities where tho , 
pulse of society is more rapid and uninter- 
mittent. and where the worship of mammon 
or of pleasure is as perpetual as it is absorb¬ 
ing. The hostility to tho Sabbath is man¬ 
ifest in tho success of tho Sunday papers, 
devoted to business and pleasure, and in 
the devotion of tho day to idlo entertain¬ 
ments. 
They who invade tho day of rest do a 
wrong to tho race at largo, and aid in weak¬ 
ening a divine institution given in mercy, 
and inseparable from the intei-ests of civili¬ 
zation .—North American. 
