JUNE 13. 
MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY NEWSPAPER. 
gtntiatat. 
t fwpsit 
For Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
FIR8T EFFORTS IN SCHOOL TEACHING. 
NUMBER ONE. 
How singularly vivid the whole retinue of events 
(then so momentous) comes back to me now in this 
silent hour of pleasant retrospection. Even the 
doubtful feeling of distrust that accompanied the 
resolution to become a District School Teacher, 
and the half uttered, indistinct hope that my first 
effort, at least, might be a successful one, Becm to 
possess all the freshness of yesterday’s events. 
The determination to teacliwas naturally follow¬ 
ed by a considerable anxiety as to whether I should 
be so successful as to find a school. It Is true, that 
Macawber like, I did wait a while for one to 
" turn up;” but finally abandoned the idea that the 
trustees of some good Bchool district would wait 
on me and extend an invitation unsolicited, for the 
more difficult, but the more promising plan of 
waiting on said trustees myself. 
It was a cold, wet, rainy day, near the last of Oc¬ 
tober—any other than a day to inspire one with 
hope in the pursuit of any object. The heavy 
clouds hung lowering lrom the sky, the “ bountiful 
rain” fell unceasingly upon the already drenched 
earth, while the thick mists, in huge masses, rolled 
slowly upward over the forest trees oil the distant 
hill-tops. Plodding my way through the mud- 
now on the highway, and now across plowed fields, 
climbing fences and crossing diteheB, I amused 
myself by thinking how pleasant it would be to re¬ 
turn through the mad again, though it were ten 
timeB deeper and thicker,—over fences ten times 
higher, and across ditches ten timeB wider, if only 
it could be done with the conscious dignity in my 
heart of an installed District School Teacher. Re¬ 
volving such thoughts over in my mind, I soon 
came to the house of one of the trustees where I 
was to make application. I found him at home— 
(rather an unusual circumstance I fancied)—and 
a kiud, good hearted man he was. When I had 
made known my business, the following conversa¬ 
tion passed between us: 
“ How old are you?'' “Eighteen.” “ Have you 
ever taught?’’ “No, sir." “Were yon educated 
in an academy or in a district school?” “In a 
district school principally." “ Do you think yon 
can manageontr big girls and boys?” “I can try.” 
“ Wbat. wages do you ask ?" “ What you are wil¬ 
ling to give.’’ 
He seemed to he satisfied with the answers he 
received, and though expressing some tears as to 
whether I would be able to manage the “big girls 
and boys,” (I fancied the girls were the worst, as be 
always spoke of them first,) be gave me encourage¬ 
ment to hope that at their annual meeting my 
proposition would he favorably received. 
The week that followed was one of no little 
anxiety to me. Meeting with one of the trustees, 
he informed me that I might consider myself en¬ 
gaged to “ teach the young ideas how to shoot" in his 
district, and that 1 was to commence on the Mon¬ 
day following. s. A. B. 
Rochester, May, 1807. 
For Moore's Rural New-Yorkor. 
AMBITION. 
There is an ambition of which the love of human 
approbation forms no part. It consists in a long¬ 
ing for a wider aud more glorious sphere of action. 
We need no teachers to tell us that we are capable 
of more powerful exhibitions of manhood than we 
have ever made. We know that the path of life 
trodden by most meu is not the most elevated, 
commands not the most sublime prospects, nor 
leads to the most desirable goal. The conscious¬ 
ness of our capabilities for improvement is innate. 
A lolly nature is never satisfied with doing as well 
or as maoh as it has done. It must excel itself or 
fed the sting of self-reproach. Were there no eye 
hut that of flop in the whole universe, to witness 
its achievements, the soul would fed a constant 
impulse to bolder trials of its living energies. 
Nor do we imagine that this ambition Is limited 
to any peculiarly favored minds, or to those only' 
that can claim tho gift of genius. It animates 
more or less every human hreasL Its intimations 
are begun in tho innocent days of childhood, and 
though often smothered by the calamities of sin 
and misfortune, awakens now aud then, it mast be, 
in the bosom of the most degraded, or the most 
despairing. 
We have not called this ambition u holy one. 
It is only the joy of unfolding, expanding, devel¬ 
oping tho growing faculties. It may bo just, or it 
may be sinful. As the pine shoots towards the sun, 
bo the expanding mind when prompted by the de¬ 
sire of greatness, is most apt to look towards 
heaven. Rut it may grope downward, into dark¬ 
ness, liko tho weeds of the sea. To inspire this 
ambition when dormant, to feed and encourage It 
when active, is the office of education—to direct it 
to its legitimate objects, is the work of religion. 
With what anxiety then, should the parent 
and teacher watch for the first evidences of 
this feeling in the child. It Is the mainspriug of 
life, energy and aotlvity. Keep the child’s ambi¬ 
tion alive and yon do better than to cram his mem¬ 
ory with the knowledge of bookB. Do not cramp 
him too early or too much with tho chains of men¬ 
tal discipline. You may prune and bend tho 
boughs of tho tree to your liking, butuulessyou 
water Its root it will die. The root of the mind’s 
healthy, rugged development, is this inborn ambi¬ 
tion. The atmosphere In which it affords the 
richest, noblest fruits, is religion. R . 
Lima, N. Y„ 1887. 
-*- 
Hi open in a Napkin.— An English nobleman 
once sent his stupid son to Rowland Hill, in order 
that he might be educated, accompanied with a 
note in which the father said of his hopeful son 
" 1 am confident he has talents, hut they are hid¬ 
den in a napkin.” The eccentric, but shrewd 
divine, kept the youth a few weeks under his care, 
and then sent him back to his father with the fol¬ 
lowing laconic message:—“1 have shaken the 
napkin at all corners, and found nothing in it.” 
--- 
A litti.e explained, a little endured, a little 
passed over as a foible, aud lo, tho rugged atoms 
will lit like smooth mosaio. 
For Moore’a Rural Ne*r-Yorfeer. 
ACTION AND REFLECTION. 
BY E. A. SANDFOBD. 
Action is a law of nature. The universe may 
be compared to a vast machine, the mechanism of 
which iB beautiful, perfect; but which to be use¬ 
ful—to accomplish the purposes of the great De¬ 
signer,—must he in motion. We therefore see 
nothing fixed orstationary, but everything moving, 
changing, with activities as various as are the infi¬ 
nite purposes of Jehovah. 
We notice in the infinitely diversified changes 
and activities of nature a most admirable order,— 
showing that the moving power is gaided by a 
never erring reason. Everything seemB to be done 
with a deliberation, a calmness, a stillness, a fore¬ 
thought Every movement, of nature is regulated 
by a steady, an unerring hand; a hand, though 
infinite in wisdom, still submitting to be guided by 
reason. There is no bustle or confusion, no hurry 
or disorder, no mighty rush defeating its own pur¬ 
pose. In all of nature’s movements, from the mo¬ 
tion of the planets to the soft approach of spring 
there is a delightful stillness, a beautiful harmony 
which is rather felt than heard. 
Though the planets move with a rapidity of 
which we can form little conception, there is no 
jostling, bat a most beautiful regularity; their 
mighty car never increasing its speed beyond the 
regulations of wisdom,— and though at each suc¬ 
cessive spring there is a return of innumerable 
species of vegetable, and insect tribes, there seems 
to be no rivalry among them — no haste for the 
precedence, but each patiently »wait3 its time of 
coming. We notice the same principle in the de¬ 
velopments of summer. The flower is not cast 
aside by the fruit before it has bloomed half its day, 
neither does the mellow fruit or harvest hasten to 
immediately suoceed the flowering time, but seems 
content to pass through every intermediate stage 
of development. 
Though “Spring trips lightly o'er tho lawn,” and 
quietly spreads her carpet of verdure and of flow¬ 
ers, she has her voices. Listen to them or they 
will not he heard far, though a great benefactress, 
and loaded with rich gifts, she does not sound a 
trumpet before, her. Her voices are the rippling 
rill, which she has unbound—the pattering rain— 
the whispering breeze—the buzz of insects and the 
songs of birds. We see no disposition to overdo. 
No noisy haranguers are needed. Tho fairest of 
Nature’s children, the flowers, are never clamorous 
of their “ rights” to notice, but they perform their 
heaven-ordained mission by silently breathing their 
sweet influence around. Nor does an ambitions 
warbler of the grove break his voice in an at¬ 
tempt to raise it an octave higher than nis mates, 
or than nature designed, but the activities of each 
individual of these numerous tribes which adorn 
the lap of earth are confined within proper limits. 
Man is sometimes said to he an epitome of the 
universe—a microcosm in which are combined, on 
a diminished scale, all the characteristics of the 
great world by which he is surrounded. Activity 
is certainly no less ft law of his nature. 
By observing tU<» manner »u which Nature iloea 
her work, and then regarding the busy world in 
which man is the actor, how are we impressed by 
the contrast! Though the beautiful example is 
constantly before him, courting imitation, how 
recklessly he persists in his waywardness, and 
seems even to delight in his folly. Man is guided 
rather by the impulse of the ago than the gentle 
teachings of Nature. Amid the roar of the steam 
engine, how can he hear tho meek suggestions of 
reason? In the ceaseless bustle and burry of active 
life, how can he find time for reflection? 
This age is peculiarly noted for its activity, and 
it is accomplishing much. Steam and lightning 
are now very successfully employed. But have not 
these given an impulse to the age, an impnlse to 
the actions of man, which has taken the place of 
his better judgment? Is not there more Quaker¬ 
ism needed at the present time? Should not the 
amount of serioua thought he greater in propor¬ 
tion to the bustle ? In the rush and hurry of active 
life is the quantity of “steam" always properly 
regulated? And is not the lightning speed with 
which we would accomplish every enterprise often 
disastrous in its consequences? 
We notice almost every newspaper and magazine 
abounding in exhortations to tho young to be up 
and doing—to dash ahead at a good spee^ if they 
would not be run by or run over—to become “fast 
young men” or submit to be called “ green ones.’ 
Enough of this advice is doubtless good. But is 
there not ft tendency to overdo in this respect? fs 
not the check sometimes as useful as the spur? Is 
not a spirit of restlessness too often excited, rather 
than an intelligent industry? We fear that many 
of the young,ardently thirsting for action, enter 
the field, having little knowledge of their duties. 
We fear that their haste in preparation defeats its 
own purpose,—that for want of reflection they en¬ 
gage in the wrong service —for want of caution 
thel r greatest efforts prove failures. They have not 
learned that a good judgment to direct them, which 
is only formed by calm, sober reflection, will often 
atone for the want of great talents l'or action—that 
discretion is often the better part of valor. 
There is another tendency of the age, to which 
this has been conducive, and which, to a sen¬ 
sitive mind, is equally annoying. It is a disposi¬ 
tion to make a noise in tho world—to become con¬ 
spicuous. He who can sucoeed in raising the 
greatest amount of dust, is often thought the hero 
of the age. If a benevolent enterprise is under¬ 
taken, the trumpet is sounded—conventions called 
and resolutions passed. Even onr devotions are 
performed with a pomp which is quite overpower¬ 
ing. Nothing is done in ft quiet, unobtrusive vjay, 
but everything Is paraded before the public in a 
manner which demands notice. Accustomed to 
act with a view to obtaining the applause of the 
multitude, we forgot those little deeds of kindness 
which sweeten daily life. Even our gentler min¬ 
isters of good, whose greatest glory and chief 
power has hitherto been in the quiet manner in 
which their influence was exerted, have joined the 
noisy crowd of harauguers whose voices are to be 
heard everywhere. A "import?. They are now ap¬ 
preciated ! They, too, make a noise in tho world I 
Their “rights” to do so we will not question. 
SPLiEENTDID TLvVLO OR’ THE SLUM, 
OBSERVED AT EDGERTON. DANE CO.. WISCONSIN, APRIL 7. 1857 
fSterajjs. 
For Moore’B Rural New-Yorker. 
“HE CARETH FOR THEE.” 
Oh, Soul, beneath the weight o£ fear 
And care, and doubt bowed down, 
Tby Father seeB thy prostrate form, 
And hears thine every groan. 
All things shall work for good for thee, 
If thou wilt trust Hia care, 
And joy shall crown like morning light. 
The night of thy despair. 
Short-sighted thou, thy Father sees, 
Through all thy future years, 
He knows the discipline thou need’st, 
Useless are not thy tears. 
Christian graces grow and flourish, 
Watered by the drops of sorrow, 
What He does, thou cans’t not know, 
Trust Him till the morrow. 
“ Light is Bown for the righteous man.” 
And “joy for the upright,’* 
Faint not then, ohi stricken one, 
“ At eve it shall be light. 
East Hampton, Mass., 1857. h. 
It affords ns great pleasure to present the read¬ 
ers of the Rural New-Yorker the accompanying 
illustration and description of a most beautiful 
Halo of the Sun—one of the most complex and in¬ 
teresting ever observed in this country. From the 
figure and description we conaider it superior to 
most of the Halos heretofore witnessed and de¬ 
scribed, and those interested in such matters will 
concur with os in the opinion that it is sufficiently 
remarkable and noteworthy to merit this special 
record and publication. 
The common solution of Halos, or of such para- 
belia, is the transmission of light through crystals 
of ice or snow high in the atmosphere, the refract¬ 
ing power of the ice crystal separating the light 
into the well-known prismatic colors. The vapor 
of the atmosphere ascends above the point of con¬ 
gelation in the atmosphere, so that these crystals 
may be formed, and thus give to the sky that hazy 
appearance, through which the sun’s light passes 
and suffers in the crystals the adequate refraction. 
The bright rain-bow halo around the moon is ac¬ 
counted for by a similar action of the ice crystals 
in the haze or partial cloud between the eye and 
the moon. 
This splendid Halo was observed and drawn by 
.T. A. Badger, of Edgerton, Wis. Our artist has 
made i#capital engraving from the drawing fur¬ 
nished,—and the following description by Mr. 
B. will enable the reader easily to comprehend 
the phenomenon as illustrated and lettered. Mr. 
Badger says: 
There is another tendency of the age, caused 
also by a want of reflection. It is a love of inno¬ 
vation—an extreme dread of conservatism. This 
is doubtless an age of improvement Many and 
valuable improvements are constantly being made 
and suggested; bat every innovation is not neces¬ 
sarily classed under this category. The experience 
and wisdom of ages should not be disregarded, nor 
institutions based upon truth and nature recklessly 
demolished. 
Let us add our word of advice to the many—that 
the young be energetic in action — but let ns add 
be diligent in preparation. If you can find ft qniet 
place away from the bustle, noise and confusion of 
the busy world, ait down and reflect. Observe 
how Nature does her work, and learn a lesson.— 
Everything is done quietly, in order and in season 
by Him who takes no delight in confusion — who 
practices no senseless innovations. Look within, 
and consider yonr own powers given you to use 
and to improve. There is no necessity of your 
making shipwreck of yonr fortunes if you will be 
thorough ia preparation, and after you have enter¬ 
ed upon the more active duties of life, if you will 
be governed, not by the “impulse of the age,” but 
by reason matured by reflection, remembering al¬ 
ways that you are made, not only active but reflec¬ 
tive beings. 
Waited Lake, Mieb., 1857. 
glia. 
THE FORCE OF IMAGINATION. 
People of strong nervous temperament are 
great slaves to the whims and caprices of their 
imaginations; and hence people of good mental, 
but of very ordinary physical acquirements, are 
the most subject to this tyranny of mind over mat¬ 
ter. Occasionally, a very ordinary sort of person 
that is, an individual of considerable mind, but 
whose mental capacities arc unsnstained, and so 
partially undeveloped—suffers from this peculiar 
fact in a most distressing degree. No doubt (says 
the best physical authority) one-half the ills that 
flesh is heir to are superinduced by the fancy of 
the sufferer alone. Hundreds have died by mere 
symptoms of cholera, yellow fever and plague, in¬ 
duced by sheer dread and fear of those terrible 
maladies. 
A oase is recorded, wherein a felon condemned 
to death by phlebotomy, had his arm laid hare to 
the shoulder, and thrust through a hole in a parti¬ 
tion, while he was fast bound to the opposite side; 
the hidden executioner, upon the other side, ap¬ 
plied the lancet to his arm with a click. The poor 
culprit heard tho muddy stream outpouring, and 
soon growing weaker and fainter, he fell into a 
swoon and died; when the fact was, not a drop of 
blood had been shed—a surgeon having merely 
snapped his lancet upon the arm, and continued to 
pour a small stream of water over the limb and 
into a basin. 
Another case in “ pint” was that of a Philadel¬ 
phia amateur butcher, who, in placing his meat 
upon a hook, stippled and hung himself, instead of 
the beef, upon tho barbed point. Uis agony was 
intense; he was quickly taken down aud carried 
to a physician’s office, and so groat was his pain 
(in imagination) that he cried piteously upon overy 
motion made by the doctor in cutting the coat and 
shirt sleeve from about the wounded arm! Wheu, 
at last, the arm was bared, not a scratch was there! 
I The hook point had merely grazed along the skin 
1 and torn the shirt sleeve!— Blackwood. 
, SUNDAY AMUSEMENTS. 
The remarkable atmospheric phenomenon rep' _ 
resented by the figure above, I observed at Edger- a letter from Mr. Baines, of Leeds, to the Earl 
ton, Wis„ on the morning of Tuesdays April 7th, 1857. 0 f Shaftesbury, on “ The Sunday and the Working 
It first begnu to develop itself about 15 minutes Classes,” has been pretty generally circulated, and 
aftersunnse, and was visible for more than an hour, j a lively to help on a good cause by its sound sense 
It exhibited great brilliancy when the sun was 15° and by its exposure of the fallacy which larks in 
or 20° above the horizon. A considerably dense the p ropos iti on that the poor man needs Sunday 
and greyish colored haze covered the Eastern amusements, as that word is generally understood, 
portion of the firmament, pretty uniformly. The whole is worthy of attentive perusal, but es- 
wind blew from the N. E., the direction of Lake pecially on the part which describes the benefit 
Michigan, and in a few hours a severe snow storm arising from a qniet and religiously spent Sabbath 
set in. Letters D D represent the visible horizon to the laborers and the poor. The following pas- 
and S the sun. The halo was first visible at A, and sage is worthy of the best place we can give it in 
the other parts as represented in the figure were otir columns: 
successively and gradually developed. At s a «Believing, as I do, with all my mind and soul, 
were two very bright parahelia, " sun dogs,” which that a pious and trained family in humble life' is 
appeared to be the centres respectively of the two one of the greatest ornaments, blessings and safe- 
arcs, A B and A B. I estimated the radius of the guards of society—the very salt of the earth—I 
arc C A C ' to be about 20°, and that of D M D to covet for the working classes at large every op. 
be 40°. The arc Y M V was tangent to D MD' at portunity and encourgement for a peaceful, well 
M, and they had apparently the same curvature, spen t Sabbath. But what hope can we have of 
while U U' seemed to have the same curvature as that, if inducements are multiplied for parents to 
C A C . All these arcs exhibited the spectral leave the sanctuary, and for children to leave the 
tints with great distinctness, the red ray being on Sunday school—if the only day free from interrnp- 
the side next the sun. N Rand NR which should tion and frettings of worldly care, and therefore, 
be much prolonged, were two area of white light, the only day suitable for quiet reading, serious 
which extended so far as to fill out about two- thoughts, parental instruction and family devotion, 
thirds of a circle, aud seemed to be concentric with jg to be a day of rambling, sight-seeing and ca- 
\ V and U U.’ There were no traces of this cir- rousing! My profound couviotion is, that the very 
cle of white tight between the points N and N, ; 
though, if the circle had been complete, it would ■ 
have passed through the centre of the sun. , 
OUR COUNTRY. 
The greatest cataract in the worid is the Falls 
of Niagara, where the waters accumulated from the 
great upper lakes, forming a river three-quarters 
of a mile in width, are suddenly contracted and 
plunged over the rocks in two columns, to the 
depth of one hundred and sixty feet. 
The greatest cave in the world is the Mammoth 
Cave In Kentucky, where one can make a voyage 
on the waves of a subterranean river, and catch 
fish without eyes. 
The greatest river in the world is the Mississip¬ 
pi, four thousand one hundred miles in length.— 
Its name is derived from an Indian word, meaning 
“ the father of waters.” 
The largest valley in the world is the valley of 
the Mississippi It contains five hundred thousand 
square miles, and is one of the most prolific re¬ 
gions on the globe. 
The largest Lake in the world is Lake Superior, 
four hundred and thirty miles long. 
The greatest Natural Bridge in the world is that 
over Cedar Creek, in Virginia. It extends across 
a chasm eighty feet in width and two hundred and 
fifty feet deep, at the bottom of which a creek 
flows. 
The greatest solid mass of iron in the world is 
the iron mountain of Missouri. It is three hun¬ 
dred and fifty feet high, aud two miles in circuit. 
The longest Railroad in the world is the Central 
Railroad of Illinois, which is seven hundred and 
thiity-one miles long—and cost fifteen millions of 
dollars. 
The greatest number of miles of railroad, in pro. 
portion to its surface, of any country in the world, 
ia in Massachusetts, whicli has over one mile to 
every square mile of its Area. 
The greatest number of clocks manufactured in 
the world, is turned out by the small state of Con¬ 
necticut. 
The largest number of whale ships in the world 
are sent out by Nantucket and New Bedford. 
The greatest grain port in the world is Chicago. 
The largest aqueduct in the world is the Croton 
Aquedhct in New York. It is forty and a half 
miles long, and cost twelve and a half millions of 
dollars. 
-■*-—*- 
The Red Hand on French Clocks. —Time is 
telegraphed along the railway lines of France to i 
each station from the Paris Observatory. A plan 
has lately been adopted of having two minute 
hands in each station clock—one red, one black. 
The black one shows the railroad time, the red the 
local time—differing from a ruinate to half an 
hour. Thus, at Paris the hands are identical. A 
hundred and fifty miles east, the red hand ia ten 
minutes in advance of tho black one. A hundred 
ana fifty miles west, the red hand is ten minutes 
behind the black one. By this simple plan, com¬ 
mon mistakes and confusion are prevented. As 
the two hands are fixed on one shaft, it is as easy 
to regulate both as one. This useful improvement 
ought to bo generally adopted in this country. 
-*- 
Spiders have four paps for spinning their 
threads, each pap having 1,000 holes; and tho tine 
web itself is the union of 4,000 threads. No 
spider spins more than four webs, aud wheu the 
fourth is destroyed they seize on the webs of 
others. 
Jew's Harp is supposed to be a corruption of 
Jaws-Harp, or a harp which is held in the jaws 
while making melody. The Jews declare that this 
instrument was unknown to their forefathers. 
beat thing for health, as well as for moral and re¬ 
ligions improvement, is the peaceful, soothing 
elevating employment, of a religiously spent Sab¬ 
bath day. 1 believe that calm is more needed than 
exercised; and that the sweet psalmody of the 
house of prayer infinitely exoels the din of milita¬ 
ry music; and that a man of hia own taste, with 
a wife by his side, his children around^his knees, 
and telling them the matchless stories^of the Di¬ 
vine Book, is ten thousand times Jbetter,‘safer and 
happier than he who roves with doubtful company, 
drops in at public hoases, and spends .there the 
money which ought to be appropriated.^ home 
necessaries, and returns late at night’with clouded 
faculties to a neglected family.” 
-- 
The Sabbath Mads for Man. —God may be 
worshiped at all times; amid Sabbath assemblies 
or week-day convocations; when the rising sun 
awakes the earth to praise the great Creator, or 
when the shadows of evening, veiling]the earth, in 
quiet and repose, beckon man to contemplate the 
varied beneficence of the great Father of mercy; 
at mid-day, as by Daniel, howing with his]face to¬ 
ward Jerusalem, while the world ^was bustling 
around him; or as by Jacob, wrestling in prayer 
alone ia the desert at midnight The sacrifice of 
spiritual worship need not be deferred to the old 
or the new of the moon, to the time of the feast of 
Tabernacles or of Pauteeost, to the season of Car¬ 
nival or of Lent. The spirit of worship may make 
all seasons sacred seasons; all periods festival pe¬ 
riods to God; all hours hours of prayer. 
-*—«■- 
Going to a “Better Country.”— A Christian 
does not turn his back upon the fine things of this 
world, because he has no natural capacity to enjoy 
them, no taste for them; but because the Holy 
Spirit has shown him greater and better things.— 
He wants flowers that will never fade; he wants 
something that a man can take with him to an¬ 
other world. He is tike a man who has had notice 
to quit his house, and having secured a new one, 
he is no more auxious to repair, much less to em¬ 
bellish and beautify the old one, his thoughts are 
upon the removal. If you hear him converse, it 
is upon the house to which he is going. Thither 
he sends his goods, and thus he declares plainly 
what he is seeking — Cecil. 
—- 4 • ■»- 
Good Rules for All. — Profane swearing is 
abominable. Vulgar language is disgusting.— 
Loud laughing is impolite. Inquisitiveness is of¬ 
fensive. Tattling is mean. Telling lies contempt¬ 
ible. Slandering is devilish. Ignorance is dis¬ 
graceful, aud laziness is shameful. Avoid all the 
above vices, aud aim at usefulness. This is the 
road in which to become respectable, Mi alk in it. 
Never be ashamed of honest labor. Pride is a 
curse—a hateful vice. Never act the hypocrite. 
Keep good company, fapeak the truth at all times. 
Never be discouraged, but persevere, and moun¬ 
tains will become mole-hills. 
-» - - 
Immortality.— If any work of the present age 
shall survive the tooth of Time, it will be neither 
palace nor temple. If the light of any name shall 
flash through the mists of the far future, it will 
not be that of the warrior—it will be that oi him, 
who, in bis day, sought the happiness of Ms fellow- 
men, and linked his memory to some great work 
of utility and benevolence. This i3 the work that 
will survive the ruins of Time—the glory that out¬ 
lives all others, and shiues with undying lustre 
from generation to generation, imparting to each 
its own immortality. 
_ 4-4 - 
If God hath done that good for ns which he has 
denied to the world, we ought to do that service 
. for him, which is denied by the world. 
