MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY NEWSPAPER. 
was awakened to the consideration of his eter¬ 
nal interests, he sought and obtained the pearl 
of great price. Then the work of the ministry 
seemed to be allotted to him, and he set him¬ 
self about learning to read, and soon after with 
his family moved from his boyhood's home, 
and settled near the bright waters of the beau¬ 
tiful Ontario. Tlvwe by the labor of his hands 
he supported his family, but he lost no time or 
opportunity of sowing the seeds of divine wis¬ 
dom, of speaking of the boundless riches which 
he possessed. Thus he toiled on year after 
year, and in every place in which he labored, 
it seemed that the spirit of the Most LI igh 
moved upon the hearts of the people. 11 is 
language came from the heart, and it reached 
the heart, when with tears rolling down his 
furrowed cheeks, and with tones tremulous with 
emotion, he besought his hearers, as prisoners 
of hope, to turn to the stronghold. Then, too, 
the reaper Death stole into his domestic cir¬ 
cle and left a vacant chair and sorrowing 
hearts, and anon his visit was repeated, and 
another heart grew eold and pulseless, another 
form was missed, another voice was hushed, 
for another had left the domestic circle, and 
had gone to “ walk with the child of the angel 
wing.” 
Time has gradually deepened the furrows 
upon the old man’s brow, has dimmed the 
brightness of his eye, has bowed his once 
strong, sinewy form, and added a thrilling 
tremulousness to his voice; and, one by one 
seems to be breaking the cords which bind 
him to earth, and it cannot be, that long time 
will elapse before the last sermon will be 
preached, the last prayer made, the last sigh 
heaved, the last tear dropped. A few times, 
perhaps, he will witness the rough, stern pleas¬ 
ures, the ruthless sway of winter, the joyous 
bursting forth of gladsome springtime, the rich 
luxuriance, the gentle reign of glorious sum¬ 
mer, the deep thrilling quiet, the falling of 
the leaves in autumn; and he will depart, he 
will go hence, to be known upon earth never¬ 
more; but shall he not be permitted to walk 
by the rivers of waters? Shall he not be re¬ 
deemed and ransomed from the hand of him 
that was stronger than he? Ah! yes, he has 
sown in tears, shall he not reap in joy? 
And as we look round, either upon the right 
hand or upon the left, numberless are the ex¬ 
amples which present themselves to view. 
I have seen the st rong man who had learned 
to bow in meek and humble reverence to “ the 
high and holy One that inhabiteth eternity,” 
with tears beseeching his aged mother to turn 
her thoughts from earth—to lay up treasure 
in the mansion of the just—to be prepared to 
down. Thousands may now be found—men 
of high natural endowments—who deem it no 
dishonor to be clad in the laborer’s garb.— 
While such men live, it will be no disgrace for 
the laborer to wear his dusty honors thick 
upon him. And proud may he be of his 
thread worn garments, rather than that pam¬ 
pered pauper who owes Ins gaudy equipage to 
the toil and sweat of another. c. f. n. 
Climax Prairie, Mich., 1SS4. 
[ For the Rural New-Yorker.] 
LEARNING AND LABOR.—NO. II. 
It is true, from the necessity ol the case, 
that every literary man must be a tax upon 
the community in which he lives. He must eat 
and be clothed; but if he can give in return 
for what he receives a something that will im¬ 
prove the condition of man, if he can diminish 
pain and suffering, if he can throw light upon 
a mind now wrapt in darkness and ignorance, 
if he can by deep and patient thought seek 
out the hitherto hidden mysteries of nature 
and nature’s God, and thereby raise his fellows 
in the scale of being, he earns his support; 
e than he re¬ 
small moment 
yea many 
ccives. It 
whether there is a demand for the vast number 
who are now crowding the learned professions. 
Indeed, we need not look for a reply. It is 
evident that there is no such demand. It is 
believed that, laying aside the mere pretenders, 
the number of professional men far exceeds 
the demand. Who believes that a little vil¬ 
lage needs from fifteen to twenty doctors, or as 
many lawyers? 
Hence every young man should ask himself 
at the outset in his career, “In what sphere 
can I be the most useful? Am I resolved up¬ 
on this or that course of life that I may pro¬ 
mote the welfare of those around me, or am I 
actuated by supreme selfishness? Is it labor 
combined with living that I seek, or is a living 
alone honorably or dishonorably obtained?’’— 
If these questions were asked and ansvveieo 
with honesty of purpose, multitudes who now 
suffer the gnawings of hunger, whose tattered 
garments bespeak their poverty, would receive 
the fruit of their toil, and the increase of the 
soil enriched by the sweat of productive labor. 
The Poor House wal’s would refuse longer to 
ho'd the pauper. The slave would lilt his un¬ 
shackled hands to heaven and praise his God 
that he is permitted to breathe the atmospheie 
of the free. 
IIovv long will it be ere men will obtain an 
education that they may more easily earn their 
sustenance, instead of taking from the mouth 
of the laborer his hard-earned bread? Let a 
community of clergymen now situated in close 
proximity separate themselves and go illumine 
the dark corners of the earth. Let them heed 
the want of nine-tenths of the human family 
over which darkness and paganism hang like 
a funeral pall. Let the physician who fears 
he is upon another’s ground, go alleviate suf¬ 
fering elsewhere. Let the office-seekmg poli¬ 
tician. instead of stirring up strife and discord 
THE MANUFACTURE OF POTTERY. 
wheel, and the roaring blast furnace; or it may 
all be summed up in a pair of human feet to 
tread the clay, a pair of human hands to mould 
the plastic material, and a rude pit for the 
purpose of subjecting the unburut ware to the 
action of fire. 
The foregoing cut represents the mill used 
in England for the purpose of reducing to a 
powder the dry lumps of clay which enter into 
the manufacture of stone ware. The appara¬ 
tus is similar to that used in this country for 
crushing linseed in the oil mill, and consists of 
two huge iron wheels that follow each other 
in a circuit like horses attached to the power 
of a threshing machine. In the circular path 
of these two rollers, the lumps of clay are 
kept by a kind of scraper which follows each 
wheel, and draws the material directly into the 
track. The bed on which the wheels revolve 
is made of iron and pierced with small holes 
like a sieve, through which the crushed clay 
passes as it becomes reduced to a sufficient 
degree of fineness, and is caught in a bin un¬ 
derneath. From this bin the clay dust is re¬ 
moved either by hand or by machinery, and 
water added until the mass becomes a thick 
paste, when it is in fit condition to undergo 
the second grinding process. An illustration 
of the second mill and other processes in the 
manufacture of the ware, will be given hereafter. 
Tun manufacture of earthen vessels has 
been carried on since the earliest period of 
recorded time. Among the first arts discov¬ 
ered and practiced by nations emerging from 
barbarism, is the molding of clay into the 
forms more or less perfect and adapting it to 
the uses of domestic life. Pitchers for carry¬ 
ing water, calabashes for holding food, and not 
uufrequcntly urns for the pious purpose of de¬ 
positories for the bones and ashes of the dead, 
can be traced to nearly every nation that now 
exists or has existed on the globe. Long be¬ 
fore the use and vvoiking of the metals was 
commenced, the more plastic materials of which 
earthen ware is composed were made to as¬ 
sume various shapes of ornament and use un¬ 
der the forming hand of the potter. 
There are various clays of different values 
for manufacturing, from the decomposed beds 
of feldspar, which furnish the material for the 
costly and beautiful porcelain, down to the 
common blue and red clays adapted to the 
manufacture of the humble brown earthen, the 
invaluable drain tile, and the indispensable 
brick. The machinery necessary for the man¬ 
ufacture of ware is more or less elaborate and 
perfect, according to the position of the nation 
in the scale of arts and civilization. It may- 
consist of the elaborate steam engine, the huge 
metalic grinding mill, the scientific turning 
Value of a Schoolmaster. —There is no 
office higher than that of a teacher of youth, 
for there is nothing on earth so precious as the 
mind, soul, and character of the child. No 
office should be regarded with greater respect. 
The first minds in a community should be en¬ 
couraged to assume it. Parents should do all 
but impoverish themselves, to induce such to 
become the guardians of their children. They 
should never have the least anxiety to accumu¬ 
late property for their children, provided they 
cau place them under influences which will 
awaken their faculties, inspire them with higher 
principles, and fit them to bear a manly, useful 
and honorable part in the world. No language 
can express the folly of that economy, which, 
to leave a fortune to a child, starves his intel¬ 
lect and impoverishes the heart.— Channing. 
HOW TO BECOME A CADET, 
“ How can I become a cadet?” is a question 
very prone to arise in a “ Young American’s” 
mind, when stirred by fife and feathers. Briefly 
this. For each Congressional District one 
cadet is allowed, whose appointment is in the 
gift of the Representative in Congress from the 
district. Contingencies considered, a vacancy 
occurs about once in three years for each dis¬ 
trict. So your appointment depends first, on 
there being a vacancy in your district, and 
secondly, on your worthy or unworthy Member 
of Congress. 
The President makes twelve appointments 
at large each year, but as you value your peace 
of mind, do not hope to be one of his elect.— 
And be not over sanguine on any score, for it 
is said that during the Mexican war, he had 
ten thousand applications in one year. Ap¬ 
pointments all come from the Secretary ol' 
War, to whom a formal application should be 
made; but your M. C. really selects for ap- 
appointment. Now a far more vital question 
for you to consider is, are you fit to be ap¬ 
pointed? Of ninety-six cadets appointed in 
the class of 1840, only twenty-five graduated, 
and generally from a half to a third ot those 
first appointed doff the cadet to don the brevet. 
The surgeon’s examination often signifies ex¬ 
eunt for a dozen neophytes, and as many more 
exhibit such idiosyncracies. in reading, writing, 
orthography and arithmetic, that the unsympa¬ 
thising examiner quietly remands them back 
ship. 
ALEXANDER HAMILTON, 
OrrosEn, as in many instances the constitu¬ 
tional views of Mr. Benton have been to those 
of Mr. llamUion, that gentleman, in his “Thir¬ 
ty years in tlu- United btates Senate,” pays the 
following beautiful tribute to his memory : 
“ lie was the man most eminently and vari¬ 
ously endowed of all the eminent men of his 
day; at once soldier and statesman, w ith a hand 
to execute; a writer, an orator, a jurist, an or¬ 
ganizing mind, able to grasp the greatest sys¬ 
tem, and administrative to execute the smallest 
details; wholly turned to the practical busi¬ 
ness of life, and with a capacity for application 
and production, which teemed with gigantic 
labors, each worthy to be the sole product of a 
single master; intellect, but lavished in litters 
from the ever teeming fecundity of his prolific 
genius. Hard his fate, when withdrawing from 
public life at the age of thirty-four, he felt 
himself constrained to appeal to posterity for 
that justice which cotemporaries withheld from 
him. And the appeal was not in vain. Stat¬ 
ues rise to his memory, history embalms his 
name; posterity will do justice to the man who 
at the age of twenty was “the principal and 
most confidential aid of Washington,” who re¬ 
tained the confidence of the Father of his 
Country to the last, and to whom honorable 
opponents, while opposing his system of policy, 
accorded honor and patriotism, and social all'ec- 
tions, and transcendent abilities.” 
Hark I through Nature’s vast cathedral, 
Blended echos ever rise ; 
Swelling in a mighty anthem 
To its over-arching skies. 
Every lird that sings in summer, ^ 
Every honey-ladened bee, 
Every squirrel iij^jlie forest, 
Every cricket on the tree; 
Every music-dropping fountain, 
Every softly murmuring rill, 
Every dark and foaming torrent, 
Every water guided mill; 
Every rain-drop on the house-top, 
Every beetle’s noisy drone, 
Every footfall on the pavement, 
Wakes an echo of its own. 
Sobs of woe and songs of gladness, 
l'.acli responsive echoes find; 
Words of love and words of anger. 
Leave their echoes far behind. 
Every great and noble action 
Is re-echoed o’er and o’er; 
Life itself is but uu echo— 
Of the lives that were before. 
Then comes the January exhibition, where 
algebraic wrecks are consigned in fearful num¬ 
bers to the parental underwriters. So, too, in 
June and January, even to the last, the ill-bal- 
asted, the weak-helmed, the mal-adapted, are 
singled out from among their stouter fellows, 
and with stern justice are banished from seas 
too rough for them. 
The martial aspirant should consider these 
things before becoming a cadet, and remember 
that cadetship is no mere holiday training, no 
refined peacockism, but a four years of disci¬ 
pline to body, mind and heart, severer by far 
than any other educational course in our land 
involves. But if a sentiment of vigorous man¬ 
hood, a courage patiently to endure present 
trial for future good, and if an orderly zeal for 
intellectual culture and hardihood, living 
facts in his nature, then I know not how a 
youth can become so much a man as by a 
West Point education.— Putnam’s Magazine. 
[Written for the Rural New-Yorker.] 
“SOWING IN TEARS.” 
QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS, 
“ They that sow fn tears shall reap in joy,’ 
are the words of the Psalmist; and in that’ 
* 
one short sentence how much there is to cheSr 
nd encourage — to brighten the hopes — to 
strengthen the heart and prepare it for future 
trials. Often during the journey of life do we 
meet those along whose pathway the thorn 
and the thistle seem to spring up spontaneous¬ 
ly. Care and sorrow darken their horizon, 
and their whole lives seem but one long, con¬ 
tinuous struggle against adverse circumstances. 
Then how it gladdens the heart when we 
think, “ they that sow in tears shall reap in 
joy.” It may be the aged and decrepit grand- 
sire leaning upon his staff for support, the man 
in middle life, or the young, the earnest-heart¬ 
ed, who, as he looks out upon the, future, sees 
before him a long and toilsome journey, a wild 
and weary way. 
Well do I remember one of whom it might 
be emphatically said that he “ sowed in tears.” 
I was a child when I first knew him, and he 
was then a gray-haired man, far past the me¬ 
ridian of life, who came occasionally to preach 
in the neighborhood where I lived. His kind¬ 
ness had won from all the appellation of fath¬ 
er. The days of his boyhood and youth were 
spent in one of the British Provinces, and 
when manhood arrived his mind and manners 
were as uncultivated and as uncouth as those 
of the wild Indian; science and literature were 
sealed books to him, for he knew not one let- 
in course of time his mind 
TnE »Y. Y. Mirror propounds the following 
interrogatory: 
Why are men such cowards in their necessi¬ 
ties? 
Why will they not stand up and say, in the 
face of the world, ‘1 am poor but honest; 1 
have been foolish but not criminal; 1 may fail 
to meet my engagements, but 1 will'not fail to 
preserve my honor before men, and my integri¬ 
ty before God? 
* To which tbe Day Book makes the follow¬ 
ing response: 
Why? Because poverty in New York is a 
greater crime than theft. Because to be poor 
but honest, is to cut oneself oil’ from society, 
brand one’s wife with that terrible curse, “not 
one of the first respectability.” 
To be “ poor but honest,” places one’s chil¬ 
dren low in the social circle, deprives them of 
the visits of their friends, cousins, school-mates, 
and relatives, and stamps them “common;” 
prevents them from associating with their 
neighbors, and all others of the “first respecta¬ 
bility.” To be “poor but honest,” and live 
economically, keep no horses and carriages, go 
to no parties, no operas, give no soirees, and 
not possess and enjoy the luxuries of wealth, is 
to deprive one of all that New York society 
says is wortli living for Better to steal or 
commit suicide than to live “poor but honest.” 
cellence. That labor is elevating is a truth. 
That civilization is the fruit of toil is univer¬ 
sally admitted. Then why drop your imple¬ 
ments of labor and separate yourselves from 
the true benefactors of our race? Perhaps 
the good by you accomplished is to you as 
yet unseen; but the future will reveal all things 
from the present hidden. The time will come 
when your works will be known and their true 
worth appreciated. Then toil on weary labor¬ 
er in your mission of duty, that your virtues 
may live while your soul-bereft body mingles 
with its mother clay. 
Would you be one in the glorious conflict 
now waging for right? Then spurn the offered 
bribe of an unearned name. Be known ib 
one who toils for what he receives, little though 
it be, and rest assured you will not toil in vain. 
A great change has already commenced. The 
partition walls which have long stood between 
the learned and unlearned are fast crumbling 
Cinnamon Gardens in Ceylon. —Picture a 
wild plot of fine white sand, in which grow, in 
irregular tufts, bushes of a perennial green, but 
of a green of every shade, varying from the 
faintest yellow to the most sombre brown.— 
Nothing can be more delicate than the first 
tender leaves of the cinnamon hush, as they 
shoot forth variously from the branches, half 
opening, half curling up, as if afraid to trust 
themselves to the broad garish light of day.— 
Their flavor, too, is a faint, pleasant, aromatic 
one, that tempts the early wanderer to pluck 
them occasionally as he brushes past; and while 
the dew is rising in vapor from the leaves, 
caught up by the morning sun, it carries with 
it a delightful perfume of the spicy shrub, 
which makes the air peculiarly pleasant.— For¬ 
est Life in Ceylon. 
A Solemn Thought. —It has been observed 
with much significance, that every morning we 
enter upon-a new day, carrying still an un¬ 
known future in its bosom. How pregnant and 
stirring the reflection.! Thoughts may be born 
to-day which may never expire. Acts may be 
performed to-day, the consequences of which 
may not be realized until eternity. 
It is with glory as with beauty; for as a 
single fine lineament cannot make a handsome 
face, neither can a single good quality render 
a man accomplished; but a concurrence of 
many fine features and good qualities makes 
true beauty und true honor. — Bruyerc. 
It cost thirty” thousand dollars to prove a 
lady of unsound mind, in an English Court.— 
The trial lasted sixteen days. 
ter from another. 
