JULY -3. 
MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY NEWSPAPER. 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
LETTERS FROM THE BAVARIAN CAPITAL. 
NUMBER ONE. 
Munich.—The Ludwigs-Strasse- Schwanthaler. 
Munich, the capital of Bavaria, is one of the 
most magnificent and interesting cities, on account 
of the splendor of its public buildings and the 
richness and extent of its collections of Art, of 
any in Europe. Old King Ludwig still lives, and 
nearly half a century ago, when his father sat on 
the throne, and he was Crown Prince, their capital 
was but a third-rate city, so insignificant that it 
drew neither the attention of artists nor travelers. 
Now there are commodious hotels, which, in travel, 
time, are well filled with tourists, a royal theater 
that rules among the first in the world, princely 
palaces, raised by some of the best architects of 
the present age, monuments in bronze, and galler¬ 
ies of painting and sculpture which are managed 
with great liberality by the government, and offer 
such inducements and advantages as draw eight or 
nine hundred artists from all parts of the world, 
who reside there constantly for purposes of study 
and profit. This great stride in improvement, as¬ 
tonishing indeed for Europe, was made in the life¬ 
time, and by the energies and abilities of King 
Ludwig. 
The site of the city is bleak and uninteresting, 
for it is situated on a vast plain, sixteen hundred 
feet above the sea. The river Isar flows through 
it, and its water there has almost the color of milk. 
According to theory it ought to be a healthy city, 
but the reverse is true. The subsoil is gravel, dry 
and absorbing, and the winds which often blow in 
summer and winter from the snowy Alps, that are in 
sight from the church towers, keep the air cold 
and dry. But the weather is very changeable, and 
in winter, fevers as well as inflammations are preva¬ 
lent Several of the Americans who resided there 
had been attacked by fevers, and during my stay a 
case occurred in the American Consul’s family. I 
also met a young American artist who had spent 
more time than he intended to devote to Munich, 
on a sick bed in his hoteL But Munich is probably 
the cheapest city of any in Germany to live in, 
and a winter there can be spent pleasantly and 
profitably. 
We will now wander awhile in the old city, 
among its low, irregular houses, with their quaint 
windows and gables, through its narrow, crooked, 
and roughly paved streets, by many a mouldering 
wall and crumbling arch, that read us stern lessons 
of an earlier age, and then enter the Ludwigs- 
Strasse, (Louis street,) which is the pride of 
Munich, and of its constructor and namesake, King 
Ludwig. It is as magnificent an extension of the 
capital beyond its former limits, as is its art and 
splendor beyond that which exists in the part we 
have just traversed. We have entered at the south 
end. The kingly street, sixty paces wide, and 
eighteen hundred long, is before us. The narrow¬ 
ing vista extends between the regular and massive 
piles of brick and stone, and terminates in an arch, 
bearing some figures which we can hardly now dis¬ 
tinguish. Through this we see the broad highway, 
stretching on beyond, between rows of trees, away 
into the country. We turn our attention to the 
commencement of this grandeur which is the Ilall 
of Marshals, a structure fifty-eight feet high, one 
hundred and seventeen long, and thirty-nine wide, 
open on three sides, and standing in the middle of 
the street, facing the north end. It contains now 
the bronze statues of Tilly and Marshal Wrede, 
both of which were modeled by Schwanthaler. 
On the left hand side of the street is the Theatiner 
Church, and on the right the old and new palaces. 
Just beyond the palaces on the same side, is the 
Court Garden, fronted on the street by the Bazaar, 
a long low building which contains stores, cafes, 
and restaurants. Around two sides of the garden, 
on the interior, are open halls in which are fresco 
paintings, that were made on the first revival of 
the art. Some of them are inscribed with lines of 
poetry which were composed by King Ludwig.— 
Directly across the street from the Bazaar is the 
Odeon, a building devoted to musical entertain¬ 
ments. Before it is an open square in which stand 
the bronze statues of Gluck the composer, and 
Orlando de Lasso. Further down the street, on the 
same side, is the palace of Prince Max, and a few 
steps more, on the opposite side, brings us to the 
War Office. Adjoining the last named building 
stands the grandest structure in the street, the 
Royal Library, which has a front five hundred and 
twenty feet long, and eighty feet high. It is very 
plain, being built in the Florentine style. The 
lower part is stone and the upper part brick. The 
statues of Aristotle, Hippocrates, Homer, and 
Thucydides, in grey stone, are seated on a platform 
before it. The library is the largest in the world 
except that at Paris, and contains now about five 
hundred thousand volumes, but the building is ca¬ 
pable of holding two millions. Among the inter¬ 
esting manuscripts and rarities are the Orations of 
Demosthenes, written on cotton paper from Chios, 
—the law book of Alaric, Albert Durer’s prayer 
book, containing sketches by him—the first book 
printed by Guttenberg, the print of which is about 
as well executed as that made at the present day. 
There is also Luther’s bible containing his por¬ 
trait and that of Melancuthon, and an autograph 
exhortation, written by him to the peasants of Sua- 
bia,—autograph writing of Schiller and Goethe 
—and an order to admit the bearer into the Gallery 
of the House of Commons, from Daniel O’Con¬ 
nell. Not the least interesting perhaps, are some 
specimens of the earliest attempts in the art of 
lithography, which was invented in Munich. 
We pass from the Royal Library a few steps 
down the street, on the same side, and come to the 
Ludwigs Kirche (Church of St Louis.) Beyond 
this the street suddenly widens into a square, and 
on one side stands the University, and on the other 
a Ladies’ School. In the square before each of 
these buildings, is an enormous fountain with its 
“ foamy sheaf of waters” rising from the top, and 
falling like a heavy shower into the wide stone ba¬ 
sin below. The noise of these fountains is heard 
at a considerable distance, and the air in their 
vicinity is rendered perceptibly cooler. We have 
now reached the end of the street and its appro¬ 
priate termination, the Siegesthor, a structure 
seventy-five feet high and eighty-one long, which 
is a copy of the triumphal arch of Constantine, 
in Rome. On the summit stands the statue of the 
Protectress of Bavaria, mounted on a car to which 
four lions are attached. The figures are bronze, 
the statue being seventeen feet high, and the lions 
of proportionate size. 
Such is the street which one prince has begun 
and completed in the course of a long and pros¬ 
perous reign. What nobler monument could he 
have left, to keep his memory alive in the hearts of 
men. Structures reared and collections made that 
will be the pride and delight of many coming 
generations—the pyramids shrink into insignifi¬ 
cance before the worthiness of purpose and lofti¬ 
ness of thought of a work like this. But let us be 
just and careful in description, lest the picture our 
readers form be extravagant and too highly colored. 
The effect of this street when viewed from either 
end is not so imposing as one might imagine from 
the formidable appearance of the names of its 
palaces, churches, theaters, schools' and libraries on 
paper. When viewing it from the south end, the 
yellow-colored buildings, commonly four stories 
high, extend to the Siegesthor in an almost unbro¬ 
ken perspective line, and the stranger could scarce 
ly recognize the library or the palace of Prince 
Max, though both are seen. There is too much regu¬ 
larity and uniformity to produce the best archi¬ 
tectural effect, and the stranger, from the point of 
view which I have mentioned, could not tell 
whether he were looking on palaces and libraries, 
or on stores and warehouses. Only the pointed 
taper spires of the Ludwigs Kirche, and the 
Siegesthor, at the end of the street, break this 
regularity. 
After passing through the street one has become 
familiar with the name of Schwanthaler, whose 
statues in bronze and stone, adorn the squares and 
the fronts of the public buildings. The artist died 
at the age of forty-six, an untimely death for the 
world, and the models of his works have been since 
formed into a museum. Among these are the 
models of Goethe's statue in Frankfort and Mo¬ 
zart’s in Salzburg, works that have a world-wide 
celebrity. In his work-shop, which his nephew 
now occupies, the whole process of making a 
statue may be seen—first, the modeling in clay, 
next, the rough chiseling on a block of marble, 
where we can detect no form, then, the half made 
figure, rude and coarse, and finally, the finished 
statue. 
But the most interesting sight is the private 
studio of Schwanthaler, which opens from his 
bedroom. There is a low and narrow door in the 
wall, and a flight of four or five steps going down 
from it to a small, irregularly-shaped apartment 
which is half under ground and dimly lighted by 
one small window. The air is damp and cool, and 
a rough wooden table, around which a couple of 
board benches extend half way, stands in the 
corner. Over the table is a simple, unartistic carv¬ 
ing of the Savior on the Cross. A long drinking 
cup of wood stands on the table, and on a shelf 
against the wall are several beautiful ones of glass. 
The walls of the room are hung with a promis¬ 
cuous assemblage of things which might have been 
suggestive to him in forming his models. All of 
these, however, are very ordinary. There are pieces 
of armor, swords, rudely carved figures, and curi¬ 
ous things which apparently have no meaning but 
which look very grotesque. There the artist used 
to sit and study, and there, probably, first came to 
him some of his most glorious conceptions. It is 
said that King Ludwig used to join him there, and 
discuss designs for the execution of works in his 
capital, while drinking wine and beer. 
The artist’s most famous works in bronze have 
been cast at the foundry of Stylmayer, which I 
visited. They were thus engaged on statues to 
adorn the Washington Monument, and I recogniz¬ 
ed, with delight, the plaster models of Patrick 
Henry, Jefferson and Washington. This estab¬ 
lishment is scarcely worth a visit, except on occa¬ 
sions when casts are made. g. f. w. 
dtenfie f®® Ik ffiittij, 
m 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
For Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
GEOGRAPHICAL ENIGMA. 
I am composed of 18 letters. 
My 5, 2, 15, 15, 6, 8, 4, 6, 2 is one of the U. S. 
My 11, 13, 15, 11, 10, 15, 15, 16, 12, 13 is a city in 
Ohio. 
My 15 ; 14, 17, 1, 16,18 is the north-western part of 
Europe. 
My 15, 6, 1, 18, 7, 16, 15, 16, 9, 16 is a country in 
South America. 
My 11,16, 7, 10, 3, 3, 6, 16, 15 is a sea north of 
South America. 
5 y 10, 14, 1, 16 is one of the United States. 
My 10, 15, 9,13,16, 15, 16 is one of the Western 
States. 
My 16, 7, 16, 3,10, 16 is a country in Asia. 
My 8, 1, 6, 9, 2, 16 is a country in Europe. 
My whole is a book that all should have. 
Harris Hill, Erie Co., N. Y., 1868. Esther S. Longs. 
ffisST Answer in two weeks. 
For Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
ALGEBRAIC PROBLEM. 
A and B started in business with certain capi¬ 
tals. After a certain length of time, A having 
gained ten per cent, his capital then bore to B’s, 
who had lost six per cent., the same relation which 
275 bears to 188. Then, starting with what they 
then had at a certain time, A having lost 25 per 
cent, his capital bore such a relation to B’s, who 
had gained 11 per cent, that, if B should give him 
§24 30, their portions would be equal. 
Belleville, Jeff. Co., N. Y., 1858. Hiram \V. Barney. 
ffigr Answer in two weeks. 
ANSWERS TO ENIGMAS, &c., IN NO. 441. 
Answei to Geographical Enigma: 
Oh, what a tangled web we weave 
When first we practice to deceive. 
Answer to Algebraical Problem:—60 780-1427 
seconds; 61 683-697 seconds; 59 13-73 seconds. 
He that is choice of his time will also be choice 
of his company and choice of his actions. Idle¬ 
ness is the burial of a living man.— Jeremy Taylor. 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 1 
Every American ought to reverence the memory ( 
of Benjamin Franklin. Every true American does. 
Not Franklin, the philosopher, only, but Frank¬ 
lin, the advocate of the people, the firm champion ( 
of freedom, the politician who could not be bought’ 
We are more apt to think of him as the man of 1 
science, the great expounder of the theory of elec¬ 
tricity, than as the able statesman at home, and the ( 
skillful diplomatist abroad, as he really was. Most 
intimately connected with the events which led to 
and carried on the Revolution, we find him an in¬ 
defatigable worker at home, a wise and faithful 
representative of the Colonies at the Courts of 1 
Great Britain and France. Striving for an amica¬ 
ble adjustment of the affairs between the former ( 
and the North American States, he never once set 
his hand to anything which would in the least 1 
compromise their cherished liberty. Spurning the 
offer of wealth and a high Btation in a foreign 1 
country, coupled with a sacrifice of principle, as an 1 
insult to the honor of an American freeman, he 
lived a noble example of fearless integrity and un- 1 
bought patriotism. And when, at last, he was 
obliged to put aside all hope of peace without war, 1 
he came home to aid in the defence of his coun¬ 
trymens’ “inalienable rights.” And as Washing¬ 
ton was the master-spirit of the Revolution, so was 
Franklin the master-spirit of the few years pre¬ 
ceding it Through the press he was constantly 
addressing the people, teaching them industry and 
frugality, and their consequent independence of 
foreign manufactures, without which it would have 
been impossible to obtain liberty. His philosophi¬ 
cal discoveries gave him free admission to the 
society of the learned, among whom he was a very 
influential person. He was, emphatically, the peo¬ 
ple’s man; and his life, though not perfect, was full 
of good intention and great achievement. 
Not a professing Christian, still he was no scoffer 
of religion, but an intimate friend of Whitfield 
and other eminent Christians of the time. And 
among the virtues by which he endeavored to 
shape his daily life, was Humility, to which he gave 
the wide meaning — “Imitate Jesus and Soc¬ 
rates.” 
The name of Franklin and the story of his life, 
as well as that of Washington, should be in every 
mother’s mouth. The Roman father filled his 
house with statues and busts of those who were 
eminent for their wisdom, virtue, and bravery, that 
his son, by the daily contemplation of them, might 
be led to emulate their virtues. So should Ameri¬ 
can parents surround their children with such 
things as they would have them like. Certainly 
the life of Benjamin Franklin, being so eminently 
industrious, frugal and temperate, is a good lesson 
for American boys. It is the practical we want, 
and he was a practical man. Teacher, have you 
any future Franklin among your little band?— 
Father, is your son practising the virtues which 
made a great man of the printer boy? e. e. 
Otego, N. Y., June, 1858. 
POOR RICHARD’S MAXIMS. 
He that by the plow would thrive, 
Himself must either hold or drive. 
The following, from the pen of the great Ameri¬ 
can philosopher, Dr. Franklin, should be printed 
in letters of gold, and hung up in every school¬ 
room, side by side with the usual a b ab, dog-latin, 
and other nonsense with which our children’s 
minds are crammed, and which seems to be the 
rule in our modern system of tuition. 
There will come a time when a Professorship of 
Political Economy will be considered an absolute 
necessity to every school. But that time is not 
yet. At present we having nothing but profusion 
and shameful waste, on the one hand, while abject 
poverty, meanness of spirit, and total carelessness, 
is too much observable on the other. These are 
the two extremes which characterize our present 
false state of things in a physical point of view—all 
laid to the score of false training, from the highest 
to the lowest. But hear what Poor Richard, says:— 
1. Plow deep, while sluggards sleep, and you 
shall have corn to sell and to keep. 
2. Pride is as loud a beggar as Want, and a great 
deal more saucy. 
3. Silks and satins, scarlets and velvets, put out 
the kitchen fire. 
4. Diligence is the mother of Good Luck. 
5. Pride breakfasted with Plenty, dined with 
Poverty, and supped with Infamy. 
6. Extravagance and Improvidence end at the 
prison door. 
7. It is easier to build two chimneys than to keep 
one in fuel. 
8. If you would know the value of money, go and 
try to borrow some. 
FIELD NOTES OF GEOLOGY. 
Those who till the ground have advantages from 
observation, to contemplate the frame-work and 
constituents of the Earth far better than any class 
of manual laborers. For them a field of knowledge 
is opened beyond that of multiplying flocks and 
herds, and of toiling upon the surface soil as pro¬ 
ducers. At the school-room the lad takes leave of 
maps and artificial globes designed to represent 
the earth in miniature, and goes upon the farm, 
where the position, form and motions of the solar 
spheres are seldom contemplated, and where the 
earth itself becomes to him formless and fixed.— 
Although the varied and constant cares of hus¬ 
bandry may claim a large portion of his time, yet 
there are hours in which, 
“ His soul proud science may teacli to stray, 
Far as the solar walks or milky-way.” 
Let him in the mind’s eye reduce the size of our 
globe to a ball of a foot in diameter; he would per¬ 
haps entertain some new ideas of physical things 
of which he forms a constituent part To him this 
ball would appear as smooth as though formed of 
ivory. The highest mountains would be only the 
133d part of an inch in elevation. This calculation 
is made as follows: 
The semi-diameter of the earth 4,000, the sphere 
6 inches, or 666 + miles to the inch—and 5 miles the 
height of the mountain. The result as above. 
Again: The average depthof the ocean is 4 miles, 
9. The eye of a master will do more work than ya t this vast body, when compared to the rocky 
both his hands. structure that it oovers, is about equal to the quan- 
10. What maintains one vice would bring up two t ity that would adhere to this ball in raising it out 
iiildren. of the water. This view in the relative magnitude 
11. He that goes a borrowing, returns sorrowing, of land and water wonderfully modifies our ideas 
12. Rather go to bed supperless, than rise in 0 f the profound abysses and great chasms in the 
ebt. depths of the sea. On such a ball it would be ex- 
13. Sloth, like rust, consumes faster than labor tremely difficult to discern the largest river or 
ears. locate the most magnificent city, and it is quite 
14. A life of leisure and a life of laziness, are two doubtful whether with the most powerful micro- 
different things. scope we could descry our fellow man—“ that form 
15. Three removes are as bad as a fire. divine.” Land and water could be arranged as to 
16. Creditors have better memories than debtors. pi ace on i y the shades of color. There would 
17. The rolling stone gathers no moss. 
perhaps be a perceptible difference between forests 
18. If you would have your business done, go; an d cultivated fields in the shades of green. 
if not, send. 
The motions of the earth. Suppose this ball to 
19. It is foolish to lay out money in the purchase move over a plain in its orbit at two miles distant 
of repentance. 
from the sun, and to be attended by an observer, 
20. Buy what thou needest not, and it will oblige the progress would be 8 feet in an hour- 
thee to sell thy necessaries. 
“ These maxims by Dr. Franklin,” says a con- 
tedious. Two miles distant from the sun makes 
the diameter 4—orbit 12, or one mile per month, 
temporary, “ though often printed, lose nothing of 11 rods a day, and 8 feet the hour. This is made 
their value by repetition.” 
to represent 60,000 miles an hour for the motion of 
We think so, too. Nay more, we think they are the earth in its orbit, 
a great gain, and cannot be too often repeated un- The diurnal motion of the supposed ball when 
til they are engraven upon the very hearts of our brought to the standard of our day, could not be 
children. Still more, as we hold on to accounts- seen, as it would be only half the movement of the 
bility—unhappily befogged by the dogmas of the hour hand of the clock. 
day—we contend, that, however remiss in our own Let the student of nature follow, in the imagina- 
observances, we have a right to teach these things tion, this ball until it completes its revolution 
to the young, and thus, at least, endeavor to leave around the sun. The various colors it would pre- 
the world better than we found it. sent, and the periodic changes, could not fail to 
In doing so, we but barely do our duty in the interest him. The poles would glare before him. 
world—not from a mean hope of any fee or reward in climes more temperate, the land would present 
for so doing, as has been too often inculcated,—but in the seasons, the white of a snow envelope, fol- 
because it is a right; and he that fails to do so, lowed imperceptibly in the progress, by the verdure 
neglects one of the most important duties intrusted of vegetation. There is no distortion of facts in 
to his keeping. 
claiming for the earth the brilliant colors of the 
The Press, too, has it no share in this great duty flower, were it reduced to a sphere of the above 
we speak of? Has it no duties to perform? It has magnitude. Portions of the frozen zones would 
been styled by a learned man of the day, “ the best glitter in the rays of the sun—the velvety forests 
possible instructor.” And so it is, or rather should would wear the softest shades of green, or a twi- 
be. But what do we find? In too many instances, light gray—the sea with its glassy green, and belts 
instead of leading in the path of duty,They meanly and fields of clouds at times, clothe the whole in 
crawl after and pander to the vitiated taste of the all the varied shades and tints of light We fail to 
multitude, for the sake of a few votes for some behold all this beauty of the earth, because we can 
favorite demagogue who cares not one straw for see only a mere point at a glance. It may not be 
either press or people! And this is the condition inaptly compared to a painting upon which we 
of nine-tenths of the political press of the day.— gaze with admiration, as we stand at a suitable 
What a public instructor!—fit only to set people distance — we assent to the truthfulness of the 
together by the ears, as they have done and are figure, we are charmed with the life-like expres- 
still doing. This i3 all too true, and those whom sion, but what would our ideas be of it, were our 
(to use a common expression) that cap don’t fit, eyes always to be brought in a near position to the 
have no occasion to wear it. 
So much for the “ best possible instructor,”—the 
canvas. 
The construction of an orrery in the imagina- 
political press,—which we consider as only a waste tion, may be of service to us when we turn to con- 
of time and labor. Neither need we look to it for template the force connected with the phenomena 
instruction in anything that Franklin could write of motion. We have instruments greatly to mag- 
—they can find no space for such. And yet they are nify the granular structures of rocks, so to enlarge 
ever howling and whining about pauperism, houses the forms of minute objects in the vegetable and 
of refuge, work-houses, jails, and other miseries animal kingdom, that we can discern their struc- 
which they draught out for poor humanity as if it tures and modes of life. There are telescopes to 
were a fatality, while a course of solid instruction descry far remote spheres in space, giving us some 
—teaching the people to think, not thinking for just views of their relative position, of their form 
them,—might obviate four-fifths of the difficulties and construction. But the form and the motion 
which they so affect to deplore. 
of the earth can never be viewed at a glance by 
The best way to multiply those miseries, is to mortal eyes, except in representation. 
follow the example of pauperized Europe in care¬ 
fully concealing the truth from the people, and 
keeping them ignorant of a knowledge of them- 
Albany, N. Y., 1858. 
Remarks. —The advantage of contemplating our 
earth as only one foot in diameter, is not very 
selves,—a fatal course, which too many in our own obvious in respect to our relation to physical 
favored land seem inclined to folio vr.—Materials things. The great object must be to form correct 
for Thinking. 
The Great End of Society.—P roperty eontin- 
conceptions of the earth in its actual dimensions, 
and neither to diminish or magnify. Suppose the 
earth to be so small that a man, in his due pro¬ 
present miseries.— Charming. 
Daniel Webster penned the following senti¬ 
ment:_“If we work upon marble, it will perish; 
16. Answering questions when put to others. 17. 
Commencing to eat as soon as you get to the table. 
And—18. In not listening to what one is saying, in 
company—unless you desire to show open contempt 
if we work upon brass, time will efface it; if we for the speaker. A well-bred person will not make 
rear temples, they will crumble into dust; but if an observation whilst another of the company is 
we work upon our immortal minds—if we imbue addressing himself to it 
them with principles, with the just fear of God and 
of our fellow men, we engrave on those tablets Wisdom. —The order of a wise man is the highest 
something which will brighten to all eternity.” of orders.— AIL 
ally tends to become a more vivid idea than right, portions could not be seen by any miscroscope; 
In the struggle for private accumulation, the worth the only useful discovery would be that he is in- 
of every human being is overlooked. The impor. visible. 
tance of every man’s progress is forgotten. We - 
must contend for this great idea. They who hold Eighteen Things in which young people render 
it, must spread it around them. The truth must be themselves very impolite: 1. Loud laughter. 2. 
sounded in the ears of men, that the grand end of Reading when others are talking. 3. Cutting finger 
society is to place within reach of all its members nails in company. 4. Leaving meeting before it is 
the means of improvement, of elevation, of the true closed. 5. Whispering in meeting. 6. Gazing at 
happiness of man. There is a higher duty than to strangers. 7. Leaving a stranger without a seat 
build alms-houses for the poor, and that is, to save 8. A want of reverence for superiors. 9. Reading 
men from being degraded to the blighting influence aloud in company without being asked. 10. Rc- 
of an alms-house. Man has a right to something ceiving a present without some manifestation of 
more than b*ead to keep him from starving. He gratitude. 11. Making yourself the topic of con- 
has a right to the aids, and encouragements, and versation. 12. Laughing at the mistakes of others, 
culture, by which he may fulfill the destiny of a 13. Joking others in company. 14. Correcting 
man; and until society is brought to recognize and older persons than yourself, especially parents. 15. 
reverence this, it will continue to groan under its To commence talking before others are through. 
