&|e finttatar. 
For Moore's Rural New-Yorker 
WHAT’S IN A NAME? 
Having read a portion of the O d Testament in 
the original tongue, and become much pleased 
with the signification of many of the prominent 
proper names, which, as they stand in the English 
bale, convey no intrinsic meaning, I conceived 
the idea that perhapB it wou'd prove both amusing 
and instructive to many, if not all of the Rubai, 
readers, were I to write out some of these with their 
several meanings. Before entering directly upon 
the task, I would say that the force and beauty of 
these interpretaMons will be greatly enhanced by 
a koowledge of the oontext. 
Wo will commence with the beginning of Gene¬ 
sis and proceed, culling from this great magazine 
of jewels now and then a gem. Omitting the 
name of the Do'ty, the fir^t personal name which 
we discover is that of our great progenitor, Adam, 
signifying earth, and thence, man as being taken 
from the ground. How appropriate! “Dust thon 
art, aDd unto dust shall thon return.” Then Eve, 
life, that is, the mother of a'!. Enoch, the initia¬ 
ted, or initiating. From tbe e'ymology of the 
name, m my of the later Jews suppose him to have 
been not only tbe most distinguished of the ante¬ 
diluvian prophets, but also, the inventor of boobs 
and learning. Of course this is mere conjecture. 
B*bel, confession: tbe name of a town which the 
foolish descendants of Noau attempted to erect, 
and were arrested in their impious undertaking by 
the power of the Almighty in confusing their 
speech- Abraham, the lather of a multitude.— 
Sarah, a princess, a noble lady. Hagar, flight,so 
called, as having fled from her mlstresB. From 
the same root corneB the word Hegirab, flight, a 
term by which tbe Mohammedans designate the 
flight of their prophet from Mecca to Medina, 
which event they fix on the 16th of July, A. D. C22, 
and from which they compute time in lauar years 
of 354 days each. Ishm abt-, whom Gop heareth. 
How literally has the Divine prediction concern¬ 
ing the son of Haoar been fulfilled in the whole 
history of his descendants. Isaac, sporting, mock, 
ing. How appropriate that the name of their son 
should be one that would continually remind 
Abraham and Sabah of the ridicule with which 
they regaided the promise of the Most High.— 
Bethel, honee of Gon. Abimelech, my father, the 
kiDg. Beer Sheba, the woil of oath, for there the 
Lorp made a solemn vow to Abraham concern¬ 
ing his t eed. It is also the name of an ancient 
city on the Bontbern border of Palestine, whence 
the phroBe in describing the limits of Palestine— 
“ From Dan to Beer-Sheba.” About the tenth 
year of tbe present century the unfortunate Sbe- 
tezkn, a German traveler visited this place and 
found seven wells called Szabea, and a valley with 
the same name. Esau, hairy, rough. Jacob, a 
lier-in-wait, a supplanter. Immediately upon 
Esau's d scovery of the treacherous act of his 
brother in obtaining the father’s blessing, he ex¬ 
claimed, “Is not he rightly named Jacob? for he 
hath supplanted me these two times: he took away 
my birth right; and behold, now he hath taken 
away my Messing.” Israel, warrior, or soldier 
of Gop. Joseph, he will add, Bethlehem; house 
of bread, Benjamin, son of the right hand, that 
is, of good fortune. 
Thus we have passed nearly through a single 
book, and found much to Interest and instruct ns, 
but let it not be supposed that what we have no¬ 
ticed comprises all that is interesting therein. It 
is but as a drop to a plentiful shower, or as a single 
ray of light to the effulgence of the noon-day 
sun. J. T. Brownell. 
Mt. Morris, N. Y, 1851. 
NATURAL HISTORY IN PRIMARY SCHOOLS. 
There is in the life of every child a time when 
the thoughts are fixed on external and visible ob¬ 
jects. The artless prattle is all about some favor¬ 
ite dog, or pet chicken; something which has 
been seen and heard, fondling in the arms, or lod 
by a string. And though grave philosophers may 
look scornfully on this faint indication of growing 
intellect, the wise man bails it as we are wont to 
hail the first bods of spring's earliest, sweetest 
flower. “Since these things are so,” as Cicero 
sayB, is not this the appropriate time for lessons 
from Nature? Is it not time to unfold the leaves 
of that great book which the finger of the Creator 
has written, ami which the oldest and wisest have 
never perfectly understood? 
Every teaohor of a public school has sometimes 
little gifts of flowers from the pupils; common, 
perhaps, and wilted by too close pressure of little 
hands,—but flowers still, and tokens of love. Let 
them not be lightly esteemed. You who are now 
yourself a teacher, can you not recollect some 
sunny morning, far back in the past, when with 
childish delight you gathered violets and daisies 
to grace the desk of the little country school- 
houBO? I shall never forget one sneh morning, 
when a large bouquet of buttercups, which I had 
just presented to onr teacher, was hastily thrown 
out of the window! nor the mortification and 
grief which followed the disposal of my gift. Do 
not throw away the flowers, but on some afternoon 
when it is beat to leave books for a time, select 
one ior the first simple lesson in Botany. 
Tell the children that a little seed was buried in 
the earth, that the sun warmed it, and the rain 
came down to moisten it; till at length, from one 
part came forth a Btom tending upward; from an¬ 
other, a root pressing downward. Tell them that 
the little fibrils took from the soil just the nourish¬ 
ment needed by the plant; and the sup ascended, 
and the greon loaves appeared to feed on the air 
by day, and drink the dews at night; and as the 
plant grew strong, in Its own appointed Beason it 
put forth a tiny bud, which swelled and expanded 
till it burst into the perfect flower. Show them 
the delicate petals, painted by the “Heavenly Ar¬ 
tist,” and tell them how closely they are folded at 
night, as if the flowers were going to Bleep, llko 
little tired children. Almost any one can have at 
command a small magnifying glass, and It will be 
found of great assistance in examining the struc¬ 
ture of the more delicate parts. Encourage the 
ohildren to ask questions about the lesson, and by 
all means use simple language. Do not burden 
the memory, nor jeopardize the vocal organs, by 
■ ' ' 
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Standing on the northeast corner of the modern 
wall of Jerusalem, with onr faces to the east, we 
have before us, as seen in the above engraving, the 
Mount of Olives. It expends along the east side of 
Jerusalem, the deep valley of Jehosapbat separa¬ 
ting it from the city. It summit is a hundred and 
eighty feet above that of Mount Moriah, on which 
the Temple of Solomon stood; consequently, from 
the top and sides of this mountain, the whole city 
lay in full view. In the early Jewish Scriptures, 
it is spoken of as " the mountain,” or “ the moun¬ 
tain before the city:” expressions which Indicate 
its nearness. Its name is derived from the olive 
groves and orchards which clothed its sides.— 
Olive trees are mill found there, though not so nu¬ 
merous as in former limes. It was the open ground 
—the park of Jerusalem—to which its inhabitants 
hand (that is, on the south side) of the Mount of 
Corruption.' ” 
With the exception of these general allusions 
there is but one event in the Old Testament which 
lends any interest to this height. It was by tbe as¬ 
cent of Mount Olivet that David went up on his 
flight from Jerusalem to Manbanaim, at the news 
of A bsalom's revolt. It was at the top of the 
monnt that he met Ecsh ai and had his last view 
of the rebellious city. It was a little way past the 
top that he encountered Ziba and the asses, laden 
with provisions. It was a 3 he descended the 
rough road on the other side, that “Shims: went 
along on the side of the mountain over against 
him, and threw stones at him, and cast dust”— 
This mournful procession, affecting as it is, and 
and Lazarus, which was a little beyond its sum¬ 
mit. Here withered the fig tree cursed by him.— 
It was over the summit of this mountain, or around 
ts southern slope, that he rode triumphantly to, 
Jerusalem, while the multitude shouted his praise, 
and cast their garments and the branches of trees 
in his way. It was here, as the city burst upon his 
view, that he wept over it, as given over to unbe¬ 
lief, and devoted to destruction. On another oc¬ 
casion, as he Bat on the Mount of Olives, over 
against the Temple, he beheld those great build¬ 
ings which were the wonder and the pride of the 
Jewish heart, and declared that the time should 
come when not one stone should be left on anoth¬ 
er. It was to the Mount of Olives that he went 
out with his disciples, after they had sang a hymn 
at the close of the Last Sapper. Here was the 
—the park of Jerusalem—to which its inhabitants linked with every stage of the ascent and at the close of the Last Sapper. Here was the j it j 3 this which prompts th< 
resorted for fresh air, for recreation, for pleasure, descent, stands alone in the earlier history of Garden of GethBemane, wheee he endured his ag- migl3{ y oceaD< wlien j, is ^ ra jj 
for meditation, and devotion. A recent writer, in the mount ony, where his soul was exceeding sorrowful ante in( j f r0 U p on t ^ e b 0 j B teroas 
speaking of the connection this mountain had Its lasting glory, however, belongs not to the death; here he sweat, as it were, great drops of thunder’s peal rends the eieme 
with the Old Testament history, says:—“ Tbe sac- Old Dispensation, bat to the New. Thismountain blood falling to the ground. This was tbe scene forked lightning darts aci 
rifice of the 1 red heifer,* the ODly sacrifice which is made memorable and sacred to tbe Christian by of his betrayal, and from this place he was led first heaven and c-arth apparently n 
was to be performed outside tbe camp in the wil- its connection with the history of onr Saviour.— to the palace of the High Priest, and then to the tempestuous war, then H ■} 
derness, being by analogy excluded from the Tom- After his public ministry through the day, and his judgment. It was to this mountain that he, after to put forth all his effir 
pie courts, was celebrated as near as possible to disputations with the Jews, this was the place to his resurrection, led forth nis followers, and either w bich he may outride the far 
them, and, therefore, on tbe slopes of Olivet. Da- which he loved to retire in the evening for prayer from its summit, or a little beyond it, while he reao b j a safety the destined hi 
vtd, before tbe temple was built, and while‘high and private intercourse with his disciples. Here talked with them, a cloud received him out of Animated by the same ianat 
places' were the recognized scenes of religions were uttered many of those parableB and sayings their sight, and they were left standing and gazing j ent j 8 eaa bled to put forth 
services, was wont to ‘ worship God at the top of which, transcribed by his apostles, have instructed up into heaven. Such are some of the occurrences faculties, and I vhis nnremitt 
the mount' Solomon, when be tolerated or adopt and comforted his followers in alleges. Over this of onr Lord’s life, which have rendered the Monnt tQ ascend the mount of knot 
ed the idolatrons rites of his foreign wives, made mountain lay his morning end evening walk to of Olives one of the most (if not the most sacred) ^ r0ft| j r0U gb aa( j the aac 
1 high places’ of the three summits ‘ on the right and from Bethany, the town of Mart, and Martha, spots on the face of the earth. sureads forth to his asaistenc 
death; here he sweat, as it were, great drops of 
blood falling to the ground. This was the scene 
of his betrayal, and from this place he was led first 
to the palace of the High Priest, and then to the 
judgment It was to this mountain that he, after 
his resurrection, led forth nia iollowers, and either 
from its summit, or a little beyond it while he 
talked with them, a cloud received him out of 
their sight and they were left standing and gazing 
up into heaven. Such are some of the occurrences 
of onr Lord’s life, which have rendered the Monnt 
| of Olives one of the most ( ; .f not. the most sacred) 
| spots on the face of the earth. 
requiring them to call the buttercup, “ Ranunculus 
Acris ,” or the elder, “ Sambucus Canadensis '*— 
They will easily learn these names alter they be¬ 
come acquainted with the dead languages. 
In the same manner, from the atones which lie 
in the yard, may be tanglit the first principles of 
geology. The pupils will delight to collect pretty 
pebbles in their walks, and yon will be surprised 
to see how many really beautiful specimens will be 
brought together. 
Sometimes talk about the flies that buzz so im¬ 
pudently around the children's ears, and walk so 
easily on the ceiling, — thus introducing ento¬ 
mology. 
The variety of subjects for lessons from Nature 
is endless. Teach the little ones to be observing, 
—to find some beauty or utility in all things; and 
thus they will he led to think of the wisdom and 
benevolence of Him who “clothes the lilies and 
feeds the ravens.” Thus their young hearts will 
expand with love tor all God's creatures. And 
above all, remember that by every new view of 
the wisdom and goodness of the Creator,— by 
every outflowing of love to His creatures, is 
hastened the approach of that time for which all 
true hearts long, while they offer the divine peti¬ 
tion, “Thy kingdom come.”— Mass. Teacher. 
-*—♦- 
The- Powbr of Monosyllables.—To one whose 
attention has not been drawn particularly to the 
subject, it will be surprising to coll to mind how 
many of the moat sublime and comprehensive pas¬ 
sages in the English language consist wholly or 
chiefly of monosyllables. Of the sixty-six words 
composing the Lord’s Prayer, forty-eight are of 
one syllable. Of the seventeen words composing 
the Golden Rule fifteen are of one syllable. The 
most expressive idea of the creative power of Je¬ 
hovah is expressed entirely in monosyllables:— 
“And God said, let there be light, and there was 
light.” One of the most encouraging promises of 
Scripture is expressed in fifteen words, ail but one 
of which arc monosyllables: — “ I love them that 
love me,—and those that seek me early shall find 
me.” 
--V-V- 
Consolation for the Dull.— There is no talent 
so useful towards risiug in the world, or which 
puts men more out of the reach of fortune than 
that quality generally possessed by the dullest 
sort of people, and in common speech called dis 
eretion—a species of lower prudence by the assist¬ 
ance of which people of the meanest intellect, 
without any other qualification, pass through the 
world in great quality and with unusual good 
treatment, neither giving nor taking offence. 
Re-Opening of Schools—City of New York, _ __ _ _ 
—The public schools of the city of New York were wise man who does not choose to run the risk of Serin gapatam—from Seringa, a name of the god themselves at the proper season, •« opportunity 
re-opened after the summer vacation, with an ag- taking physio and dying too.” Viabnoo—being the town of Sreringa. Allahabad, calls for them; and the words, which are to .ns 
gregato attendance at the first session of 42,059 The above expedient is a severe one for epicures from “ Allah,” God, and “ abad,” abode, means the actions what the leaves are to the trait, fall not on 
—more than 4,000 greater than at the opening of and gluttons, bnt most persons will find it easier abode of God; that city being the capital of Agra> the ground, but are profitable as we as ornamen- 
tbe session one year since. Oat of 1,249 tea b- to fast one day than to be sick a fortnight. The the chief school of the Bramies, and much resort- tab Everything in himand a5o«rbi at serves t epur- 
ors connected with these schools, only 31 were ab- writer has usually found that fasting for three or ed to by pilgrims. Punjab is the country of the pose for which it was intended. His brethren are 
sent at the commencement of the term, 13 of whom foar meals is sufficient, bnt doubtless the whole Five Rivers, and Doab is applied to a part of the benefited by him, and his a er is g on e 
were detained in consequence of sickness, remedy Is better than a park country between two rivers. Home. 
Useful flic. 
HOW TO PREVENT COLDS. 
If people were blessed with common sense, and 
a little wholesome self-denial, they might often 
escape severe colds and fevers by resolute mea¬ 
sures adopted in season. A correspondent of the 
Evangelist sends tbe following communication, 
giving an infallible recipe for a had cold if it is 
handled in time. Perhaps some of our readers 
may have courage to make the experiment: 
“ There is probably not a man, woman, or child, 
who is not as often aB once a year, afflicted with a 
severe cold, which ends in a cough or catarrh, — 
and thousands there are who die every year of 
consumption, brought on by taking cold. He, 
then, who should discover a certain and effectnal 
remedy M this complaint, would he justly regard¬ 
ed as one of the greatest benefactors of the age. 
The writer does not profess to have discovered 
such a remedy, but he wishes to attest the truth of 
the following certain and effectual expedient for 
preventing a cold. A cold cannot be easily cured, 
but if it can be pievented, it is of no importance 
to know how it may be cared. 
“A bad cold, like measles or mumps, or other 
similar Ailments, will run its course in about ten 
days, in spite of what may be done for it, unless 
remedial means are employed for it- within forty- 
eight hours of its inception. Many a useful life 
might be spared to be inereslngly useful, by cat¬ 
ting a cold Bhort off in the following sate but 
simple manner:—On the first day of taking a cold, 
there is a very unpleasant sensation of chilliness. 
The moment you observe this, go to your room 
and stay there. Keep it at such a temperature as 
will entirely prevent this chilly feeling, even if it 
requires 100 degrees of Fahrenheit. 
“In addition to this, put your feet in water half 
a leg deep, as hot aa you can bear it, adding hot 
water from time to time for a quarter of an hour, 
so that the water shall lie hotter when you take 
your feet out than when yon put them in. Then 
dry them thoroughly, and put on thick, warm 
woolen stockings, even if it be summer — for sum¬ 
mer colds are more dangerous,— and for twenty 
hours eat not an atom of food, but drink as largely 
as you desire of any kind of warm teas; and at the 
end of that time the coid will be entirely broken 
without any medicine whatever. Efficient as the 
above means are, not one in a thousand attends to 
them,—led on, as most men are, by the hope that 
a cold will pass away of itself. Nevertheless, this 
article will now and then pass under the eye of a 
Let those who are often afflicted with colds, — 
ministers, students and consumptive persons gen¬ 
erally,— cut out the above directions and preserve 
them. If faithfully followed, they will do yon 
more good than all the pulmonaries, cold cordials 
and other hnrtfal nostrums, which now load yonr 
shelves.— Medical Journal. 
THE NECESSITY OP EXERCISE. 
The benefits of exercise to those whose occupa¬ 
tion does not leid them to make any physical 
exertion, cannot be too highly estimated. The 
body must undergo a certain amount of fatigue to 
preserve its natural strength, and maintain all the 
muscles and organs in proper vigor. This activity 
equalizes the circulation, and distributed the blood 
more effectually through every part Cold feet or 
a chill anywhere, shows that the circulation is 
languid there. Tbe muscles, during exercise, press 
on the veins, and help forward the currents by 
quickening every vessel into activity. Tbe valves 
of the heart are in this way aided in the work of 
sending on this stream, and relieved of a certain 
amount of labor. When exercise is neglected, the 
blood gathers too much about this central region, 
and the oppression about the heart, difficulty of 
breathing, lownees of spirits, anxiety and heavi¬ 
ness, numerous aches and Biitehes, are evidences 
of this stagnation. People are afraid to take exer¬ 
cise, because they fancy they want breath and feel 
weak. Bat the very effort would free the heart 
from this burden, by urging the blood forward to 
the extremities; it would ease their breathing by 
liberating the lungs from the same superabundance; 
it would make the frame feel active and light as 
the efieetof equalized circulation and free action.— 
Laics of Health 
-- 
INDIAN NAMES. 
“Sepoys” is derived from an Indian word mean¬ 
ing bow or arrow, which was the weapon the ua 
tives formerly used, and it is now the name given 
to the Native Indian soldiers, drilled in European 
tactics. They are fierce, hardy, and frugal, living 
on small pay and coarse fare, and composing the 
great array on which the British have relied to 
hold India. 
“Poor” or “ pore,” which is found to make the 
termination of so many Indian cities and settle¬ 
ments, signifies town. Thus Nagpore means the 
town of Serpents—a definition, by the way, anffi. 
ciently appropriate when we reflect on the treach¬ 
erous character of the Sepoys by whom it was so 
recently garrisoned. “ Abad” and “ patam” also 
signify towo; Hyderabad being Hyder'sTown, and 
“OVER THE RIVER.” 
Ovkti tbo river they beckon to mi-— 
Love.) ones who've crossed to the further side; 
Tbe gleam of their snowy robes I see. 
But thflir voices are drowned by the rushing tide. 
There's one wiih rieglets of sunny gold, 
And eyes, the rr-flec'l'in of heaven’s own blue; 
He croi sed In tbe ‘-.Tilighl, grey and cold, 
And the pale mist bid him from mortal view. 
We saw not the angels that met him there; 
The gate of the cliv we could not see;— 
Over the nver, over the river, 
Jiy brother stands waiting to welcome me! 
Over the river tbe boatman pale 
Carried another—the household pet; 
Her brown curls waved in the gantle gale— 
Oariing Mnwr*! I see her yett 
She crossed on her bosom her dimpled hands, 
And fearlessly entered tbe phantom hark; 
We watched it glide from the silver sands. 
And all our SAinibiae grew strangely dark. 
We know she is safe on the farther side, 
Where all the ransomed -mi angels be; 
Over the river, the mystic river. 
My childhood’s idol is washnar for me. 
For none return from tbose rjaiet shores 
“Who cross with the boatman cold and pale; 
We hear the dip of the golden oars, 
And catch a gleam of the snowy sail,— 
An-t lo! they have passed from onr yearning heart; 
They crons the stream and are gone for aye: 
We may not sunder tbe veil apart 
That hides from our vision the gates of_day. 
We only know that their barks no more 
May sail with us o'er life’s stormy sea, 
Yet somewhere, I know, oa the unseen shore. 
They watch, and beckon, and wait for me! 
And I sit and think when the snnaet’s gold 
Is slashing river, and hill, and shore, 
j I shall one day stand by the water cold. 
And list for the sound of the boatman's oar, 
I shall watch for a gleam of the dapping sail; 
I I shall hear the boat as it gains the strand; 
I shall pass from sight with the boatman pale 
To the better shore of the spirit land, 
I shall know the loved who have gone before, 
And joyfully sweet will the meeting be, 
When over the river, the peaceful river. 
The Angel of Death shall carry me. 
For Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
LI O PE. 
This is a faculty of the human mind, without 
which man would be compelled to spend his life 
as upon a vast desert, where he must travel with¬ 
out one ray of light to cheer his drooping spirits, 
without one solitary spot to rest his weary feet, and 
without one cooling drop of water to quench his 
burning thirst. 
It i 3 this which prompts the mariner upon the 
mighty ocean, when his frail bark i 3 driven to 
and fro upon the boisterous waves—when the 
thunder's peal rends the elements In twain—when 
the forked lightning dirta across the sky—when 
heaven and c-arth apparently meet to join in dark 
and tempestuous war, then Hope alone, can prompt 
him to put forth all his edirts and exertions by 
which he may outride the fury o? the storm and 
reach in safety the destined haven of rest. 
Animated by the same innate principle, the stn. 
dent, is enabled to pat forth all his intellectual 
faculties, and by his unremitted eSorts, gradually 
to ascend the monnt of knoweldge; and though 
the road be rough and the ascent steep, yet Hope 
spreads forth to his asaistence her almost super¬ 
natural powers, and enables him to triumph over 
every obstacle, pointing out to his fainting vision 
the temple of glory “ shining afar.” as a reward 
which will richly compensete for all his trials and 
difficulties. 
The true essence of a well-founded hope shows 
itself moat conspicuously, and dressed in its most 
beautiful and lovely garb, in its influence upon the 
man of God as he departs from the mortal state.— 
He perceives the glimmering of the taper, by which 
he has been gu'ded through the trials of life, fast 
sinking into oblivion never to rise again, yet Hope, 
that alleviator of onr sorrows oomes riding upon 
the chariot of Faith, eradicating the gloom which 
has been fast gathering around his wearied senses, 
and bids him look forward to that state upon 
which he is about to enter, as eternally glorious, 
and which will far more than remunerate him for 
his labors he has been called to undergo. 
Grinuell, Iowa, 1S57. Emma. 
THE WORLD OF THE CHRISTIAN. 
This world is not yours: thank God, it is not.— 
It is dropping away from yon like worn-out autumn 
leaves; but beneath it, hidden in it, there is an¬ 
other world lying as the flower lies in the bod.— 
That is your world, which must bnrat forth at last 
into eternal luxuriance. All yon »tivnd on,see,and 
love, is but the husk of something better. Things 
are passing—our friends are dropping oft' from us: 
strength is giving way; our relish for earth is go¬ 
ing, and the world no longer wears to onr hearts 
the radiance that once it wore. We have the 
same sky above ns, and the same scenes around 
us; but the freshness that our hearts extracted 
from everything in boyhood, and the glory that 
seemed to rest once on earth and life, has faded 
away for ever. 83 d and gloomy truths to the man 
who is going down to the grave with his work un¬ 
done. Not sad to the Christian; but rousing, ex¬ 
citing, invigorating. If it be the eleventh hoar f 
we have no time for folding of the hands: we will 
work the faster. Through the changeful ness of 
life: through the solemn tolling of the bell of 
Time, which tells us that another, and another, and 
another, Are gone before us: through the noiseless 
rush of a world which is going down with gigan¬ 
tic footsteps into nothingness; let not the Christ¬ 
ian slack his hand from work; for he that doeth 
the will of God may defy hell itself to quench bis 
immortality.— Rev. F. W. Robertson. 
Meditation on the Word’of God. —By contin¬ 
ual meditation on the sacred writings, a man as 
naturally improves and advances in holiness, as a 
tree thrives and flourishes in a kindly and well 
watered soil. All the fruits of righteousness show 
themselves at the proper season, as opportunity 
calls for them; and the words which are to his 
actions what the leaves are to the trait, fall not on 
NOV. 14 
MOORE’S RURAL NEW-fORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY NEWSPAPER. 
