V 
.. ,.u’U>WU‘\ ...... . .. 
MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY NEWSPAPER 
For Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
trees and Ledges give it an appearance of luxuri¬ 
ant. verdure. The farm houses, too, were larger, 
and looked more thrifty, and the laborers’cottages 
were clean and comfortable. The dwellings are 
stone and commonly white-washed on the outside, 
and vre could perceive some attempt, at ornament 
in the way of flowers and gardens. The farmers 
were engaged in haying. 
We soon struck the coast road again, and passed 
by the Marquis of Londonderry's summer resi¬ 
dence, which stands on aclitT, overlooking the sea. 
It is very large, being built of dark brown stone, 
with towers and battlements. It overlooks exten¬ 
sive and varied scenery, which seemed to sleep in 
the stillness of noontide. Aiound were gardens 
and fountains, precipices and groves, and out on 
the surface of the motionless ocean, the majestic 
ships stood erect with all their ea.ivas spread.— 
When we reached the village of Glender, E- 
gave out, and employed a conveyance to take him to 
Larne, which was ten miles further on. I have 
seen one horse draw more, perhaps, in Ireland, 
than anywhere else. Their vehicles are two¬ 
wheeled, and drawn by one animal; and I have 
counted as many as nine persons on them at once, 
and 1 believe, on a pinch, two or three more might 
have found room. 
I continued my journey alone, and on the way 
stopped to converse with a couple of laborers, who 
were pulling weeds from the wheat with wooden 
tongs. They told me their wages were two shil¬ 
lings per day, with which they had to feed and 
clothe themselves and families. Generally, they 
did not get so much, but this was a favorable sea¬ 
son. One of them was quite intelligent, and spoke 
bitterly of their sufferings, saying they were worn 
out. and made old before tbeir prime, by constant 
hard labor and privation. All along the shore men 
and women were engaged in gathering sea-weed 
which they dried and sold. There is a kind which 
they call “ dutce” that is eaten by the common peo¬ 
ple, and it was frequently offered to us by beggars. 
I was somewhat tired when I reached Larne, and 
welcomed the comfortable quarters which E- 
had engaged. 
BY CLINTON PARKINSON. 
Hail, holy power, with angel mien, 
Come shed thy influence through my soul, 
With awful step and air serene. 
Come sooth my pangs l>y thy control. 
At thy approach wild passion flies, 
And ev ry raging conflict dies; 
Eaell worldly impulse quick retires, 
And comes soft hope and mild desires. 
Tbou calm’at the mind with heavenly art. 
Thou bring'st with thee sweet, holy peace. 
Thou melt'at each wild di-epiiiriog heart, 
And spotless joys thou still increase. 
While avarice, wan and pale-eyed care, 
Remorseless guilt and dark despair,— 
Envenom'd envy's poisoned dart, 
No more corrode the assaulted hrarh 
Thou waVst thy soft consoling wing, 
And to the soul hy conscience wrung,— 
By stern compunction’s terrors stung,— 
Thou breath'st a new, eternal spring. 
When thou appear'st, thy accents mild 
Soften repentant sorrow’s child. 
They charm his fears with genlle love. 
And turn his views to realms above. 
Ryerson’s station, Pa., Jan., 1857. 
BY GLEZEN P. WILCOX. 
Carrick-a-Bead. 
We rose in the morning but little refreshed, and 
walked to the next village, which was four Irish 
miles distant, before we got our breakfasts. Turn¬ 
ing off the main road, we wandered along the 
cliffs until we came to Currick-a-Read, which is an 
isolated rock, connected with the cliffs of the main 
land by a bridge of ropes. 1 walked over it. Two 
hundred feet below, the deep green sea foamed on 
the rocks. The bridge is narrow, and a single 
rope runs along one side for a hand railing. It 
swayed tearfully beneath my footsteps, and in a 
storm of wind is said to be impassible. Its length 
is about fifty feet. 
G-roups of Cabins. 
The road which wo that day followed, led us 
through a dreary country. Half of it, perhaps, was 
composed of bogs and moor, uncultivated and 
unfenced. On the rest there were blank stone 
walls and ditches, instead of green hedges, and 
every nowand then, we saw a deserted and roof- 
lesscabin. They told amournfultale. The groups 
of stone huts where the peasantry lived, looked sad 
and lonely. Theyseemed to be going to rack and 
ruin, as fast as simple stone and turf are capable. 
They were surrounded by filth, and tall weeds grew 
beside the walls, and waved on the house tops.— 
Before the doors, were frequently puddles of mud, 
in which scrubby swine were lyiug. In the road 
parties of ragged and dirty children were playing, 
as children will under whatever circumstances, 
and were the only clement of cheerfulness we 
could perceive. Frequently we saw old women, 
bent and wrinkled, tottering along, and aiding 
their feeble footsteps with a staff. We missed the 
flowers and shrubs wo had been accustomed to see 
so profusely cultivated in England, even about the 
humblest cottages, and we were assailed by more 
beggars that day than in all our travels before. Tf 
wo gave them anything,they invariably invoked a 
blessing. “Gon bless ye,” said an old woman on 
wc had bestowed a few pennies. “ God bless ye. 
and may ye niver want health, and plenty to eat.” 
Our curiosity prompted ua to enter several of the 
cabins. One of them, where we asked for and re¬ 
ceived a drink of water, was about, fifteen feet 
square. The stone walls were thick and hare, and 
THE WHH’K I’OOTKD ANTELOPE 
For Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
NOT LOST, BUT GONE! BE3POBE.” 
We give above an engraving of the Nyl-Ghau 
or White-Footed Antelope, an interesting animal, 
native of India. Many of them have been brought 
to England, from Surat or Bombay, and have be¬ 
come partially domesticated. Our American trav¬ 
eler, Bayard Taylor, when be was in India, saw 
a good many of these animals, and]describes them 
as follows: 
‘•The male is of a very dark gray color, having 
shorthorns; the female of a pale brown, without 
horns, and rather more than four feet high at the 
shoulders. The mode iij which these animals 
fight is curious. While still at a distance irom 
each other, they prepare for the attack by falling 
on their fore knees, and when they come within a 
few yards they make a spring, and dart against each 
other. The force with which they spring in this 
manner is very great. In its wild state, it is said 
to be exceedingly vicious; but when tamed, it be¬ 
comes tame and even affectionate. It is a native 
of the interior parts of India, and in several parts 
of that country is considered ns royal game, to be 
hunted only by princes. It is called by the natives 
Nyl-Ghau.” 
In a state of confinement they often fall into 
their fighting postnre without doing any mischief. 
They will, notwithstanding, attack mankind un¬ 
provoked. A laborer, who was looking over some 
pales which inclosed several of them, was alarmed 
by one of them flying at him with the quickness 
of lightning: but the wood-work which separated 
him from the animal, was the means of his safety, 
as it dashed it to pieces and broke off one of his 
horns close to the root. The death of the animal, 
which happened soon after, wa3 supposed to be 
owing to the injury it had received from the blow. 
"I have lost five children.” said a lady to a 
clergyman who was making some inquiries re¬ 
specting her family. “ Not lost, my dear madam,” 
was the reply, “only gone before.” 
No ■ bereaved mother, they are “not lost ”— God 
has bat recalled his own—those precious gems 
were lent but for a season, and now with renewed 
lustre adorn their Savior’s crown. “Not Lost" — 
those tiny budB were culled ere the chilling blasts 
of care and sorrow had dimmed their beauty,—ere 
deceit or guile had blighted their young hearts, or 
cast a shadow on their truthful hrow3. Before the 
world’s alluring charms had robbed them of their 
innocencv,—before they had strayed from the fold 
of CnKisT, — the Good Shepherd gathered his 
lambs to his bosom, and led them to those heaven¬ 
ly pastures where living waters flow. 
“ Not lost, but gone before,” — gone where you 
hope soon to follow. God has laid “up your 
treasures in Heaven, where neither moth nor rust 
doth, corrupt, nor thieves break through nor steal.” 
Gone to beckon you onward and upwards to 
Heaven,—to bid you meet them there at God’s 
right baud, where there are pleasures for ever¬ 
more, Then say not they are ‘lost ’ — say rather 
they are found —found in the paradise of God 
among an innumerable company of angels, singing 
j with cherubims and seraphim?, “ glory to God on 
high”—“Holy, Holy, Holy Lord God of Sabaoth.” 
Ea*t Homer, N. Y., 1857. Mrs. Pidslet. 
Bayard Taylor, in one of his letters from Ger¬ 
many, in speaking of the proportion of agreeable 
and disagreeable companions one meets, says: 
Of the English one meets in Switzerland, one- 
tenth may prove agreeable acquaintances; of the 
Americans and French, one-fourth, and of the 
Germans one-half. The principal topic of conver¬ 
sation was—not the sceuery, but the merits of the 
different hotels. I heard a ruddy Londoner grave¬ 
ly recommend a certain house because the tea-cups 
had handles to them, and another was delighted 
with Lucerne because he fonnd a good confec¬ 
tioner's shop there. 
Going down the valley of Aar, I saw approach¬ 
ing me a German gentleman and lady, followed a 
little distance by an English party. I bowed to 
the former and was repaid by a ready and gracious 
acknowledgment. I then repeated the process to 
the English ladles, who deliberately 
“ Gorgonized me from head to foot, 
With stony British stare." 
Many American ladles, let me confess, would 
have done the same thing. 
part of Africa, bees-wax forming a considerable 
part of the cargoes of shipB trading to the gold 
and ivory coasts, and the district of Sierra Leone, 
on the western shores of Africa.” 
A letter, addressed to a French provincial 
journal, recounts an amusing elephant story. A 
menagerie was stopping at a country town, and 
amongst its animals, included an elephant. One 
night the elephant was shut up in a barn in a 
tavern yard. His keeper had forgotten to feed 
him, and, late at night, the animal grew very hun¬ 
gry. He coolly lifted the latch of the stable door, 
and made hiB way into the garden attached to the 
house. He stripped 3 vine of its grapes, and ate 
a large quantity of other fruit, but. this only seem¬ 
ed to have sharpened his appetite. Whilst prome- 
i nading about the garden to aid the process of di¬ 
gestion, suddenly a puff of wind brought to his 
nostrils the odor of the kitchen. He forthwith 
opened the door of a long corridor, and the smell 
of cooking meats presently guided him to the 
furnace. 
There chanced to be no person in the kitchen at 
the moment, and if there had been, he or she wonld 
probably have taken to immediate flight. Ele¬ 
phants have generally been supposed to be fru- 
I givorous beasts, but civilized and trained elephants 
THE NAMES OP ANIMALS, 
European animals — thus, buffalo, grouse, robin, 
lizard, chamois. Nations have only new names for 
their native animals. Thus, lion in all modern 
languages, is leo — hardly changed. The camel 
and the tiger derive their names from their native 
countries, other nations adopting these names 
with slight modifications. The elephant is so 
called in all countries. The ass got his name from 
the old Hebrews. The hare and tho deer, which 
occur both in Europe and Asia, and have two 
names, one native in each country—the former 
lepus and the latter eorvus. Nations try to reduce 
all foreign animals to the names of their own, by 
adding a descriptive designation, as Guinea-pig, 
camel-leopard, river-horse, Ac. The Anglo Saxons 
who lived on the sea,had names for all sea animals, 
but the Germans of the interior called them all by 
some land name with the addition of “sea,” thus— 
sea-horse, sea-mew, sea-dog, sea-lion, sea-tiger, sen- 
mouse, sca-dovil. 
Almost all animals were originally named from 
their qualities. The name of tho ass comes from a 
root, meaning “walk slowly;” the serpent, to 
“elide quickly;” the rabbit, “to burrow in the 
A pious man was once asked, whence it came, 
that in spite of all the calamities of life, he could 
3 tiU preserve such equanimity. He answered: 
••It comes from this, that I take good care of my 
eyes; for all evil comes into the heart through the 
senses, but good, also, by the same way.” 
Upon further questioning how he did this, he 
said: , 
•• Every morning before I go to my business, and 
among men, I direct my eyes thoughtfully to three 
things:—First, I raise them to heaven, and remind 
myself that my chief bnsincss and the aim of my 
life and endeavor is up there. Secondly, I lower 
them to the earth, aud consider how little room I 
need, one day, to find me a grave there. Finally, 
I look upon myself, and think of the multitudes of 
those whose fortune is worse than mine. In this 
way I have patience in all my sorrow, and live with 
the world and men contented in God.”— Auerbacher. 
I kept statistics of 
female politeness for some mouths iu the Sixth 
Avenue cars, and found that not more than one 
lady in twenty thanked me for giving up my seat 
to her. 
ORIGIN AND SEARS OF THE STATES. — NO. IV. 
Poverty of Spirit. —A man must be emptied 
of himself, in order that he may be filled with the 
blessings of the gospel. He must become poor in 
spirit, in order that he may become rich in faith 
and a partaker of the kingdom of heaven. Blessed, 
therefore, is the man who thinks meanly of him¬ 
self, and highly of his Maker and Redeemer.— 
Blessed is the man who walks humbly with his God, 
and is also humble towards bis fellow-creatures. 
Blessed is the man who both feels and manifests 
this poverty of spirit. This temper may not exalt 
him in the eye of the world, but it is the temper 
befitting his condition—it is a temper honorable 
to God, and truly beneficial to his fellow-creaiures. 
It is the temper which Christ has pronounced to 
be characteristic of the Christian.— Thornton. 
sistcncc. The view was limited, and the ascend¬ 
ing road turned continually round the hills. The 
spirit of silence fell on us both, and for several 
miles wc walked steadily side by side, without 
speaking a word, until, as we wheeled round the 
base of a hill, the prospect suddenly opened before 
ns, and we beheld the valley of Glender below, 
stretching away for miles. An exclamation of 
surprise and delight broke from our lips at once. 
The valley is not, however, very fertile, but the 
contrast was great with what wc had just passed 
over. Wo looked down on white cottages aud on 
hedges and trees. The turnpike road is carried 
across tho lowest part of the valley by a iuany- 
arched stone bridge. On the opposite side rose a 
mountain, its sides, for about two.thirds of the 
way to the top, covered by a network of stone 
walls, the lines or which converge towards the 
summit. The remaining third is covered with 
nothing but brown heather. We descended into 
the valley, crossed the bridge, and turning to tho 
left, went down to the sea, where we found tho 
pleasant little village of CushendaL The trees hid 
it from sight, until we had almost entered it. Tho 
last two miles wc walked over at a rapid pace, and 
when passing a stone breaker by the side of the 
road, 1 asked him how far it was to tho town. He 
answered, and I remarked without stopping, that 
we were making for it as fast as possible. “ Well, 
indade, I think ye arc, sir,” was his reply, as he 
looked after us somewhat astonished. 
Incidents of Travel. 
In tho morning wc got into conversation with 
several of the people before leaving the village.— 
America was quite familiar to them, lor a majority 
have relatives there, and indeed we find that 
among the common people, the Irish generally 
have a better knowledge of our country than either 
the English or Scotch. 1 tried to purchase a cane 
in tho place, hut could find none. One of them 
brought out his Shillalu from his house, and pre¬ 
sented it to me, and another remarked that I was 
no Yttnkce, for I was neither tall nor lean enough; 
but they thought E-would pass. 
We kept the coast road for a while—it extends, 
at least from l’ort Bush to Belfast, and is level as 
the sea, for it keeps close to the water’s edge, and 
NEW HAMPSHIRE. 
Tiib first settlements in the “Granite State,” were 
at Dover and Portsmouth, in 1623. Iu 1641 all its 
settlements by a voluntary act submitted to Massa¬ 
chusetts, hut were made a separate province by an 
act of Oliarlea II., in 1670. A temporary govern¬ 
ment was established in 1776, to continue during 
the revolution. On the 21st of June, 1768, the 
State in Convention adopted the Constitution of 
the United States. 
The Geographical position of New Hampshire, is 
between latitude 41° 42' and 4i>° II N. and 70° 
40' and 72° 30' W. longitude. The population in 
1850 numbered 317,864. The dwellings in the 
State at same period, were57,339, and farms 29,220. 
Manufacturing establishments. 3,301. The agri¬ 
cultural products, at the time referred to, were, 
wheat, 185,668 bushels; rye. 183,117; Indian corn, 
1,573,670; oats, 973,3S1; barley, 70,256; potatoes, 
4,304,919—value of products of the orchard $248,- 
563—of market gardens, $56,Slu—pounds of butter 
made, 6,977,056; of cheese, 3,190,563; maple sugar, 
1,294,863; molasses, 9,811 galluos, with sundry mis¬ 
cellaneous products. Laud improved 2,261,288 acres 
_cash value $55,215,997. Value implements and 
machinery, $2,314,125; of live stock, $9,871,901; 
Ants are day-laborers, and very industrious in 
their calling; they always seem in earnest at their 
work. Catch them asleep in the daytime if you 
can! They set us an example of industry. 
“ Ants freely work, without disguise ; 
Their ways consider, and be wise.” 
The Soul. —What is there to survive age ? That 
which age has little thought of, but which is living 
in u 3 all—the Soul, the Immortal Spirit Of this 
all ages arc the nnfoldinga, and it is greater than 
alL We must not feel, in the contemplation of the 
vast movements of our own and former times, as 
if we were ourselves nothing. I repeat ir, we are 
greater than all. We are to survive oar age —to 
comprehend it, and to pronounce its sentence.— 
As yet, however, we are encompassed with dark¬ 
ness. The issues of our time, how obscure! The 
future into which it opens, who of us can forsee? 
To the Father of all ages I commit this future, 
with humble, yet courageous and unfaltering hope. 
Channing. 
THE HONEY-GUIDE 
It is not always easy to discover the natural 
hives of wild bees. There are, however, two or 
three active little guides, which- are of great, ser¬ 
vice to those who are in seareh of honey. One of 
these, found in South Africa, is a bird called the 
honey-gniilo. It is about the size of a chaffinch, 
and of alight gray color. 
Mr. Gumming, in his “Adventures in South 
Africa,” thus describes the curious habits of this 
bird:—•“Chattering and twittering in a state of 
great excitement, it perches on a branch beside 
the traveler, endeavoring by various wiles to attract¬ 
ing attention; and having succeeded in doing so, 
it tiles lightly forward in a wavy course in the 
direction of tho bee?’nest, alighting every now and 
then, and looking back to ascertain if the traveler 
is following it, all the time keeping up an incessant 
twitter. When at length it arrives at the hollow 
tree or deserted white ants’ hill, which contains 
The wasp is a paper-maker, in his building. His 
paper is water-proof, and made of materials that 
no other paper-maker would use. Look at the cu¬ 
rious wasps’ and hornet’s paper dwellings—not 
patented, are they? 
The heaver is a wood-cutter, a builder, and a 
very good workman at all these trades. He fells 
the small trees with his teeth; and after he has 
built his house, he plasters it skillfully with his 
tail-trowel. 
When the veil of death has been drawn between 
us aud the objects of our regard, how quick-sight¬ 
ed we become to their merits, and how bitterly do 
we then remember words, Ot even looks of uukind- 
ness, which may have escaped in our intercourse 
with them? How careful should such thoughts 
render us iu the fulfilment of those offices of affec¬ 
tion which may yet he in our power to perform; 
for who can tell how soon the moment may arrive 
when repentance cannot be followed by reparation! 
—Bishop Heber. 
Holiness, the most lovely thing that exists, is 
sadly unnoticed aud unknown upon earth. 
- - - 
A few moments of divine sweetness in secret 
,-i^t ?c -in nnti/IntrA f .1 nnv sorrow Or trouble. 
Envy. —Tho envious man is in pain upon all oc¬ 
casions which ought to give him pleasure. Tho 
relish of his life is inverted, and the objects that 
administer the highest satisfaction to those who 
are exempt from this passion, give tho quickest 
pangs to those who are subject to it. All the per¬ 
fections of their follow-creatures arc odious.— 
Youth, beauty, valor, and wisdom are provocations 
of their displeasure. What a wretched and apos¬ 
tate state is this; to be offended with excellence, 
and to hate a man because wo approve him? The 
position of the envious man is emphatically mise¬ 
rable! He is not only Incapable of rejoicing in 
another man’s merit or success, but lives in a world 
wherein all mankind arc in a plot against his quiet, 
by studying their own happiness and advantage. 
