MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY NEWSPAPER, 
336 
TO THE TEACHER. 
Toil, teacher, toil: 
Prepare the soil *, 
Go forth to sow the precious seed, 
To pluck up noxious plant and weed t 
Toil, teacher, toil. 
Pray, teacher, pray : 
Ask God to-day 
To fill thy soul with grace and might, 
That thou mayst do and teach the right: 
Pray, teacher, pray. 
Hope, teacher, hope : 
The promise take— 
Faint not and thou shalt surely reap 
In season due. Bear trials well; 
Let each day’s work thy patience tell t 
Hope, teacher, hope. 
On, teacher, on t 
The joy be thine, 
Rightly to instruct from day to day, 
To lead one mind in wisdom’s way— 
The bliss will all thy care repay : 
On, teacher, on. S. A. n. 
[ Conn. School Journal. 
[ For the Rural New-Yorker.] 
LEARNING AND LABOR.—NO. I. 
Learning and labor are inseparably con¬ 
nected. There can be no learning without 
labor, nor successful labor without learning.— 
The experience of ages attests that intellectual 
progress is the result of toil—the fruit of stern, 
untiring application. Those great truths de¬ 
veloped by Newton are the golden reward of 
patient research and close investigation. The 
power of mind over matter evinced by Watt, 
in the successful combination of elements seen 
in the construction of the steam engine, is the 
result of deep and earnest thought on the part 
of its originator. Yes, if was hard study and 
constant application that captured the steam 
monster, and learning holds in check its fury. 
Education placed it upon the iron track and 
bade it move its ponderous train with a mete¬ 
or’s velocity, making the firm earth tremble 
beneath its angry tread. The hand that 
dragged the lightning from the mountain cloud, 
and hurled it with herculean strength in blaz¬ 
ing circles on its wiry way, the sun to outstrip 
in flight, and time to stop in awe, received its 
skill from mental toil. 
Education has grasped the sunbeam and 
used it for a pencil. It has changed the face 
of this continent from an uncultivated wild, 
dissonant with the savage yell of the Indian, 
to a rich and populous republic, musical with 
the hum of busy life. Thousands of manufac¬ 
tories also bespeak our intellectual greatness. 
Commerce spreads her white wings to the sun¬ 
light of every clime—from NovaZernblasice- 
bound coast to the frozen regions of the Ant¬ 
arctic Sea, the flags of every nation court the 
same zephyr. Education has spanned the 
heavens as with a reed, and measured the 
foundations of the planetary universe, viewed 
systems beyond systems ranged in wild gran¬ 
deur in space far beyond our unassisted ken, 
gave them names, taught the law that holds 
each in its native course, and weighed the sun 
in the balance of thought. Thus is learning 
the grand moving principle through whose 
agency all the good of which we aretherecip. 
ients is effected. 
Is it not true, however, that all who pretend 
to be educated are learned. Multitudes from 
sinister motives are base enough to put on the 
show of learning, while they are entirely des¬ 
titute of the reality. They see that learning 
is wealth, and strive to obtain the latter, mere¬ 
ly pretending the former. There are thousands 
at the present time, who, under the garb of a 
profession, draw from the laboring classes a 
support for which they return no equivalent. 
There was a time when learning was a com¬ 
modity not possessed by all, and those who did 
possess it felt in duty bound to exercise their 
talents professionally. Comparatively few were 
able at those times to meet the expense of a 
thorough course of study, hence the commu¬ 
nity was dependant upon the few for instruc¬ 
tion. They must devote their time and ener¬ 
gy to meet this want. For this expenditure 
they must be paid. Thus originated the so- 
called learned professions, which soon became 
a source of pecuniary advantage as well as a 
means of accomplishing benevolent designs. 
But the aspect of things is fast changing.— 
Knowledge is now placed within the reach of 
all. Colleges are springing up on every hand. 
In every village are established schools of high 1 
order. The path to learning is at present al¬ 
most the only path to distinction. The battle 
field has lost its attractions, and the young 
man w T ho pants for fame sees no other course 
to obtain it than that which lies through halls 
of science. Many, however, long for fame and 
wealth who are too indolent to put forth the 
necessary exertions to acquire an education, 
which would secure to them what they so 
much desire, and are hence induced to bring 
to the market their various professional com¬ 
modities, glossed and gilded to be sure, and 
thus palm off mere trash, or worse even, upon 
a too credulous community. How long will it 
be, if those who merely ape professional men 
shall be able to impose upon the people, draw- 
ng from the common treasury a support with¬ 
out replacing an equivalent, ere the world will 
suffer a literary famine? Yet live they will, 
although this life is but a piratical one, and 
the people must support them. If the whole 
system of professional quackery could be ex¬ 
posed to the public in its true light, a glorious 
work would be effected. c. f. b. 
Climax Prairie, Mich., 1854. 
SELF-EDUCATED MEN. 
In my last I spoke of the difference iu 
schools reported to be good. Such schools, 
especially those of the second character, lay a 
foundation for self-education. The student has 
learned la think for himself and has also, 
learned how to learn —how to educate himself. 
He has only to carry out the plan already be¬ 
gun, and a few years will find him, without 
much interruption to the business of an ordi¬ 
nary profession, far on the road to a learned 
reputation. The writer has known many such, 
who in their early days were among the most 
unpromising, but who have since distinguished 
themselves by their attainments in knowledge, 
as well as in the business of their profession. 
It is not pretended, however, that even the 
best schools furnish to our youth the only op¬ 
portunities of rising to eminence. There have 
been those who, almost without schools, or 
.assistance of any kind, have found their way 
up through all conceivable difficulties, to emi¬ 
nence and distinction. The love of knowledge, 
and the determination to be something in the 
world, have enabled them to remove every 
difficulty, to surmount every obstacle, even to 
the astonishment of all. But how much more 
easily would the same end have been gained 
had the young aspirants been aided in the out¬ 
set by a proper course of early mental train¬ 
ing ? How much greater might their attain¬ 
ments have been in the end? And how many 
there are of whom we now hear it said, “how 
unfortunate it is that they had not the advan¬ 
tages of early education?” Aye, and how ma¬ 
ny more there are whole talents are never de. 
veloped in this world, for want of suitable 
early opportunities! 
Now it is to aid those who may wish to 
climb the “Hill of Science,” to call out the 
intellectual but latent energies of those who 
may otherwise be unknown to the world, as 
well as to benefit all, that all our schools of 
every grade should be of the right kind,—that 
they should be nurseries of thought,—that 
they should, as far as possible, “teach the 
young idea how to shoot,” even from the com¬ 
mencement of and during the whole period of 
school days. Those, then, are the best schools 
which best answer this end; and that teacher 
who has awakened in the mind of his pupils a 
disposition to investigate, and has taught them 
how to learn, even though he may have done 
little else, has not labored iu vain. u. 
Oat West, Aug., 1854. 
EDUCATION IN ENGLAND. 
According to the calculations and tables 
given, 9G8,557 children ought to be enrolled 
in the school books of England and Wales, 
over and above the 2,144,3'i8 that are actually 
found there. This however, is not the only 
element that demonstrates the actual deficiency 
of education. A great number of existing 
schools are of a very inferior description. Out 
of 29,525 private schools, which sent in returns 
it is roughly estimated that 4,950 are superior; 
7,095 middling; 3,495 undescribed; and no 
fewer than 13,879 inferior, being principally 
dame schools, where only reading and writing 
are taught, the latter not always. That many 
at least of these schools are rightly described 
as inferior, is but too apparent lrom the almost 
incredible fact, that in the case of no fewer 
than 708, the census returns were signed with 
with a mark! The same occurred with respect 
to 35 public schools, most of w’hich had small 
endowments! 
Yet, notwithstanding these drawbacks, Mr. 
Mann, who compiled the statistics, regards the 
condition of the youth of England as infinitely 
improved during the last fifty years: 
“ The records and the recollections which 
describe society so recently as fifty years ago, 
bear testimony to a state of ignorance and im¬ 
morality so dense and general, that if any mem¬ 
ber of the present generation could be sudden¬ 
ly transported to that earlier period, he would 
probably be scarcely able, notwithstanding 
many abiding landmarks, to believe himself in 
England, and would certainly regard the change 
which half a century has witnessed in the man¬ 
ners of the people as but little short of mirac¬ 
ulous. Comparison is scarcely possible be¬ 
tween the groups of gambling, swearing chil¬ 
dren—no uufovarable example of young En¬ 
gland then—whom liaikes, of Gloucester, in 
1781, with difficulty collected in the first Sun¬ 
day school, and any single class of the 2,400,- 
000 scholars who now gather with alacrity, and 
even affection, round their 318,000 teachers.’ 
Important Truths. —In a work lately pub¬ 
lished by Lieber on civil liberty and self-gov¬ 
ernment, he says, “There is no right without a 
parallel duty; no liberty without the suprem¬ 
acy of law; no high destiny without earnest 
perseverance; no greatness without, self-denial.” 
The toiling millions who dig up riches from 
the ground, are the true benefactors of the 
world. There is no intelligent and patriotic 
man who does not rejoice in their prosperity; 
for the benefits it confers upon themselves, and 
upon their country.— Orleans Republican. 
PHILOSOPHICAL LECTLRE. 
We promised in our last lecture to give 
some account of the construction and manage¬ 
ment of a Canal, and will now endeavor to 
redeem the pledge. If the surface of the earth 
along the line of a proposed Canal were a dead 
level, or more philosophically speaking, if it 
were the arc of a circle at every point equi¬ 
distant from the centre of the earth, all that 
would be necessary in the construction, would 
be to excavate a ditch of the proper dimen¬ 
sions and shape, and fill it with water; but in 
actual experience, no such line can be found of 
sufficient extent, and hence the necessity of 
engineering skill and an immense outlay of 
money and labor. Mountain barriers must be 
penetrated or overleaped, rivers must be cross¬ 
ed, deep ravines filled up, long terraces of 
country of different elevations connected by a 
water communication, and innumerable other 
obstacles met and overcome. 
In some respects the skill of the civil engi¬ 
neer is taxed to a greater degree in building a 
Railroad than a Canal; but in others, and in 
far the larger number of instances, the require¬ 
ments of scientific knowledge in constructing 
the latter, must be vastly superior. It is true 
that the curves of a Railroad must be much 
more carefully constructed than those of a 
Canal; the relative elevation or depression of 
the opposite rails, to counteract effects of cen¬ 
trifugal force, must be properly attended to ; 
the true adjustment of switches, and frogs, and 
turn-tables, of cattle-guards, and road-crossings, 
of viaducts, and transit bridges, of tie fixtures, 
and ballasting must never be lost sight of; but 
in the laying of a Railroad across a country, 
alternate rises and depressions of many feet in 
a mile, are no obstacle, while in the construc¬ 
tion of a Canal the variation of as many in¬ 
ches will render the work utterly valuless; and 
the unskillful engineer will be chagrined to see 
the liquid medium intended to float his boats 
all rushing to the lower end of his new ditch. 
Indeed, the descent of a Canal line must not 
be made to exceed half an inch in the mile, 
while that of a Railroad varies from a dead 
level to fifty or seventy-five feet. The reten¬ 
tion of the water in a Canal is an all important 
item; and hence the nature of its embankments 
require great attention; its masonry, &c., must 
be carefully constructed, and placed below all 
chances of being undermined by water, which 
will penetrate every crevice, aud speedily 
change the trickling leakage into a gaping 
breach. In a Railroad, the tender can take on 
a supply of water, in the vale below, sufficient 
to carry the train over a summit, and down 
again to the vale beyond; v'kile in a Canal, a 
quantity must be found not only sufficient to fill 
the ditch and make up for natural leakage and 
evaporation, but also to supply the exhaust¬ 
ing process of downward lockage, at both ends. 
In the Erie Canal, which is the foremost 
w'ork of its kind in the world, and a monument 
of more enduring fame than the Pyramids, the 
longest level on the line is about seventy miles. 
The earliest idea of its construction was a line 
of uniform descent from Lake Erie to the 
Hudson, by means of alternate excavations 
and embankments to suit the undulations of 
the intervening country; but a little knowledge 
of the difficulties in the way of such an under¬ 
taking, speedily exploded that idea; for the 
united energies of the world would scarcely be 
commensurate to its fulfillment The true idea 
finally developed itself under the fostering care 
of master minds, and resulted iu the construc¬ 
tion of the present work. This was accom¬ 
plished by means of successive and varying 
levels to suit the undulations of the country 
through which the Canal passes; the boats be¬ 
ing lifted and let down from one level to 
another by means of locks. The greatest de¬ 
scent at any one point in the line is at Lock- 
port, where the Canal passes from the level of 
the Lake Erie terrace above the Falls of Niag¬ 
ara, down to that below; which is effected by a 
series of six locks in immediate succession, like 
a pair of stairs. 
Let us endeavor to explain the shifting of a 
boat from one level to another, on a Canal.— 
The water of the upper level is retained by 
means of guard gates, which, when opened, al¬ 
lows it to flow into the level below. There 
are two sets of these gates, one at each end of a 
strong flume, constructed of stone laid in 
hydraulic cement, and built in the most sub¬ 
stantial manner. Now suppose the lower set 
of gates to be closed, and the water allowed 
to pass in above; it is evident that the flume 
will soon be filled even with the surface of the 
upper level, so that a boat will float into it 
without difficulty. If now the upper gates be 
closed, and sluice-gates opened below, the water 
will be drawn off from the flume or lock, down 
to the lower level, the boat at the same time 
settling with the water; after which the large 
gates can be opened below, and the boat per¬ 
mitted to pass on its way. When the water 
in the lock is even with that in the lower level, 
an upward bound boat passes in and the gates 
behind it are closed. Now fill the lock from 
the level above, and when the water rises in 
it even with the upper level, the large gates 
above are opened, and the imprisoned boat set 
free. The simple apparatus of a lock is more 
effective in elevating vast weights, than the 
most complicated engine; and the largest ship 
that ever floated, can thus be lifted as easily 
as a gentle zephyr would lift the downy thistle 
on its bosom. 
The Erie Canal, when enlarged, will be 
seventy feet wide and seven feet deep, walled 
up with sloping masonry on each side, and 
fitted with double locks throughout its entire 
length. It will float boats carrying a burthen 
of two hundred aud forty tons, which is equiv¬ 
alent to the burthen of two Railroad trains.— 
Through this vast avenue a mighty tide of in¬ 
ternal commerce will be carried on, enriching 
the people East and West, and binding them 
together iu indissoluble ties. Unlike the mo¬ 
nopoly of a Railroad, every man can do busi¬ 
ness on the Canal; only paying to the State, 
for the privilege, an amount of toll sufficient to 
keep the line in repair, and ultimately pay for 
its construction. No profits, no dividends, no 
exclusive advantages are retained to a particu¬ 
lar set of men, but the whole is thrown open 
on terms of the widest and freest democratic 
equality. 
WILD ELEPHANTS. 
A ferson who has never seen a wild ele¬ 
phant, can form no idea of his real character, 
either mentally or physically. The unwieldy 
and sleepy-looking beast who, penned up in his 
cage in a menagerie, receives a sixpence in his 
trunk, and turns around with difficulty to de¬ 
posit it in a box; whose mental powers seem 
to be concentrated in the idea of receiving 
buns tossed into a gaping mouth by children’s 
hands; this very beast may have come from a 
warlike stock. His sire may have been the 
terror of a district, a pitiless highwayman, 
whose soul thirsted for blood; wdio lying in 
wait iu some thick bush, would rush upon the 
unwary’ passer-by, and know no pleasure great¬ 
er than the act of crushing his victim to a 
shapeless mass beneath his feet. * * * I 
have even heard people exclaim, upon hearing 
anecdotes of elephant hunting, “ poor things!” 
Boor things, indeed! I should like to see "the 
very person who thus expresses his pity, going 
with his best pace with a savage elephant af¬ 
ter him. Give him a lawn to run upon if he 
likes, and see the elephant gaining a foot in 
every yard of the chase, fire in his eyes, and 
fury in his headlong charge; and would not 
the flying gentleman who lately exclaimed 
“poor thing!'’ be thankful to the lucky bullet 
that would save him from destruction? There 
are no animals more misunderstood than ele¬ 
phants; they are naturally savage, wary and 
revengeful, displaying as great courage when 
in their wild state as any animal known. The 
fact of their great natural sagacity renders 
them more dangerous as foes. Even when 
tamed there are many that are not safe for a 
stranger to approach, and they are then only 
kept in awe by the sharp driving hook of the 
mahout. 
Elephants are gregarious, and the average 
number iu a herd is about eight, although 
they frequently form bodies of fifty and even 
eighty in one troop. Each herd consists of a 
very large proportion of females, and they are 
constantly met without a single bull in their 
number. I have seen some small herds formed 
exclusively of bulls, but this is very rare. The 
bull is much larger than the female, and is 
generally more savage. His habits frequently 
induce him to prefer solitude to a gregarious 
life. He then becomes doubly vicious. He 
seldom strays many miles from one locality, 
which he haunts for many years. He becomes 
what is termed a “rogue.” lie then waylays 
the natives, and, in fact, becomes a scourge to 
the neighborhood, attacking the inoffensive 
witliout the slightest provocation, carrying de¬ 
struction into the native’s paddy-fields, and 
perfectly regardless of night fires or the usual 
precautions for scaring wild beasts. The dar¬ 
ing pluck of these “rogues” is only equalled 
by their extreme cunning. Endowed with 
that wonderful power of scent peculiar to ele¬ 
phants, he travels in the day-time down the 
wind; thus nothing can follow upon his track 
without his knowledge. He winds his enemy, 
as the cautious hunter advances noiselessly 
upon his track, and he stands with ears thrown 
forward, tail erect, trunk thrown high in the 
air, with its distended tip pointed to the spot 
from which he winds the silent but approach¬ 
ing danger. Perfectly motionless does he 
stand, like a statue in ebony, the very essence 
of attention, every nerve of scent and hearing 
stretched to its cracking point; not a muscle 
moves, not a sound of a rustling branch against 
his rough sides; he is a mute figure of wild 
and fierce eagerness. Meanwhile, the wary 
tracker stoops to the ground, and with a prac¬ 
tised eye pierces the tangled brushwood iu 
search of his colossal feet. Still further and 
further he silently creeps forward, when sud¬ 
denly a crash bursts through the jungle; the 
moment has arrived for the ambushed charge, 
and the elephant is upon him .—Bakers Rifle 
and Hound in Ceylon. 
Fact. —The man who devotes a whole life 
to accumulate wealth is a donkey. The mo¬ 
ment he obtains a competency he should quit 
trade, buy a neat little coop in the country for 
his hens and chickens, and immediately after¬ 
wards give himself up to the cultivation of 
drum-head cabbage aud a higher grade of 
morality. 
Neither iu little things, nor in great ones, 
suffer your dread of singularity to turn your 
feet from the path of integrity. Arm your¬ 
selves with this mind, to do what is right, 
though you can find neither companion nor 
follower.— Rev. J. A. James. 
[Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker.] 
THE FORSAKEN TEMPLE. 
BY HORACE S. RUMSEY. 
View life’s temple; it was gleaming 
Yesterday with beauty bright,— 
Came through azure windows streaming, 
Beams of intellectual light. 
And its door, on smoothest hinges, 
Swung was by the breath of love; 
From its organ flowed sweet numbers, 
Such as angels chant above. 
On this temple breathed Jehovah, 
Aud with thought inspired the vriiolo, 
When from turret to foundation, 
It became a “living soul.” 
Oil! how changed is its appearance, 
Quenched its vivifying light; 
Hushed its gentle, thrilling music, 
“All within is dark as night.” 
To our call no voice will answer; 
View the mildew and the rust, 
“Perishing” is on it written, 
“ ‘ Earth to earth, and dust to dust.’ ” 
Vanished hath the gentle tenant, 
See Death's signet on the door; 
Where is she, Oh I angels tell us,—* 
Whom we love, but see no more ? 
“ She of mild, forbearing spirit, 
Sought a city far away, 
And hath gained a glorious mansion, 
Which shall never know decay.” 
Kanona, Steuben Co., N. Y., 1854. 
THE PREACHING WE LIKE. 
We ask for no polished periods, for no fin¬ 
ished compositions, but simply for burning 
thoughts, couched in simple and homely phrase 4 
such as those which in other days drew men 
from the earth to heaven. The slip-slop 
which Roman priests and even the most dig¬ 
nified among the number, and also which some 
very learned Protestant divines are not asham¬ 
ed to send forth to the world, is something 
quite inconceivable, to those at least who have 
not been nurtured on diet of this kind. We 
know some plain and unpretending ministers 
in the Lutheran Church, who seldom quote 
Greek or poetry, and scarcely ever stop to find 
fault with, or improve the translation of their 
text, whose language is so simple that a child 
can understand it, and who never for a mo¬ 
ment aim at polish, elegance, or distinction, 
but only at converting sinners, aud edifying 
saints. Such men we know and have heard, 
and would rather sit statedly under their 
preaching, and have them visit us on a death¬ 
bed, than be the parishioner of the most learn¬ 
ed, accomplished, and so-called distinguished 
minister we ever heard, who is more concerned 
for his own professional reputation than for 
the salvation of his flock. Away with your 
elaborate, pretty, polished sermons, designed 
to show off’ the learning and rhetoric of the 
minister, and secure applause from a fashiona¬ 
ble audience, while immortal souls are left to 
perish for want of simple gospel instruction. 
Such preaching is an abomination to God, the 
delight of the devil, and should be a reproach 
and a by-word among men. One simple, solid, 
gospel sermou, delivered with feeling and 
earnestness, anil amid fervent prayer for God’s 
bless ng, is worth scores of beautiful, classic, 
aud so-called eloquent efforts .—Lutheran Ob- 
RELIG10N. 
There is a religion in everything around us; 
a calm and holy religion in the uubreathing 
things of nature, which man would do well to 
imitate. It is a meek and blessed influence, 
stealing, as it were, unawares upon the heart. 
It comes—it has no terror, no gloom it its ap¬ 
proaches. It has nothing to rouse up the pas¬ 
sions; itis untrammeled, by the creeds and un¬ 
shadowed by the superstitions of man. Itis fresh 
from the hands of the Author, and glowing 
from the immediate presence of the Great Spir¬ 
it which pervades and quickens it. It is writ¬ 
ten on the arched sky. It looks out from ev¬ 
ery star. It is amoug the hills and valleys of 
the earth; where the shrubless mountain top 
pierces the thin atmosphere of eternal winter: 
or where the mighty forest fluctuates before the 
strong winds with its dark waves of green foli¬ 
age. It is spread out line a legible language 
upon the broad face of the unsleeping ocean. 
It is the poetry of heaven. It is this that up¬ 
lifts the spirit within us, until it is tall enough 
to overlook the shadows of our place of proba¬ 
tion; which breaks, link after link the chain 
that binds us to mortality; and'which opens to 
imagination a world of spiritual beauty aud 
holiness.— J. G. Jfhittier. 
Light in Darkness. —“ Unto the upright 
there ariseth light in darkness.”—Psa. cxii. 4. 
The great lesson of this text is the connec¬ 
tion which obtains between integrity of pur¬ 
pose and clearness of discernment, insomuch 
that a duteous conformity to what is right is 
generally followed up by a ready and luminous 
discernment of what is true. It tells us that 
if we have but grace to do as we ought, we 
shall be made to see as we ought; or, iu 
other words, that if right morally, we are in 
the highway of becoming right intellectually. 
— Hr. Chalmers. 
Embargo on Bibles. —Recently the British 
Foreign Bible Society went to considerable 
trouble and expense to have the Bible transla¬ 
ted and printed iu the language of the Mongol 
Tartars; but the Czar of Russia, who is the 
master of the Mongols, having, in advance, for¬ 
bidden its circulation, the whole edition re¬ 
mains useless on the Society’s shelves in Lon¬ 
don. The Czar evidently does not want Chris¬ 
tian civilization among his Tartar subjects.— 
Religious light is no part of his system. 
The passion of acquiring riches in order to 
support a vain expense, corrupts the purest soul. 
