NOV. 21 
MOORE’S RURAL NEW-TORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY NEWSPAPER. 
®(}c ®ntlu(n\ 
For Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
Wanderings in Europe—New Series. 
LETTER 
BY GLRZKN r. WILCOX. 
A Walk to Ulm. 
At Stuttgart my friends had reached the end of 
their journey, and, deciding to return to Heidel¬ 
berg by railroad, I was left to continue my journey 
alone, or with such companions as I might chance 
to pick op on the way. Wo parted iu the street, 
they went to the station, and I took the road to 
Ulm. There was a long hill for me to ascend, and 
I paused on the summit a few moments, to take my 
last view of Stuttgart. The city lies in a deep 
valley, hemmed in on each side by vine covered 
hills. It soon began to rain, and I put on my oil¬ 
cloth cape, and set forth at a rapid pace on my 
lonely way. I shortly met a gend’arm, who was 
ploddiDg along with his musket slung to his back, 
and evidently fooling uncomfortable under the 
peliing rain that was soaking him to the skin.— 
He hailed me to examine my cape which he pro¬ 
nounced “ ganz nett,” and having detected my for¬ 
eign aocent, he asked me where 1 came from. His 
first exclamation, on hearing that I was from 
America, was, 11 how glad your folks will be to see 
you when you go back,” and when we parted, after 
a mcmenta’ conversation, he wished me heartily a 
happy journey. 
I had entered into a fruitfal and undulating 
f irming country, the surface reBcmbliDg many of 
the best, parts of Western New York, but the fea¬ 
tures of the landscape, so far os affected by the 
hand of man, as different a* the characters of the 
people, and their methods of cultivation. The 
German landscape is devoid of fence b which are a 
prominent feature in the American. The fruit 
trees are planted in rows along the road p, and scat¬ 
tered irregularly over the fields, instead of being 
gathered into compact orchards. In some parts 
the forests are quite numerous, and are wild and 
intermixed with the cultivated lands, quite in the 
American style. 
Perhaps the most peculiar feature of a German 
landscape, as compared with an American, is the 
almost total absence of single farm house?, sur¬ 
rounded by their appropriate out buildings. The 
laud is mostly owned by peasants, each having a 
small quantity, which makes it more economical 
to build their houses together in villages, from 
which they go out to till their small farms. The 
villages are therefore numerous, but the houses 
small and dizty. The cow and horse stables are 
frequently under the same roof with the rooms in 
which the family dwells, and manure piles are 
formed almost at the very door steps. There a e 
always plenty of beer houses, and a school and 
church. Commonly there is water in the streets: 
where it is possible living fountains are construct¬ 
ed. and it is customary to ornament them with 
quaint figures and devices. I do not believe this 
system of dividing the land into small portions, 
each having its separate owner, is favorable to the 
attainment of the highest state of cultivation.— 
The farming tools with which the peasants work, 
are vefy inferior. So far as I have observod they 
plow shallow, but cover the land with manure, and 
stir the top almost incessantly. A peasant cannot 
afford to keep the teams and tools with which to plow 
ten or twelve inches deep, and it is impossible for 
him to drain his land, unless his neighbors aleo 
drain theirs, and all unite in carrying out a general 
system. 
In the afternoon I came iu sight of the Schwa- 
biau Alps, and saw several castles on rocky peaks. 
Night set in just as I descended again into the 
valley of the Neckar, and I stopped iu a pleasant 
lit .le village which stood on the green meadows 
by the river banks. The next forenoon l entered 
among tho mountains. The valley, which wss 
very fertile and filled with fruit trees, grow nar¬ 
rower and narrower. The monntains, mostly cov¬ 
ered with forests, rose up Bteep and showed many 
rough crags on their summits. The village of 
Uraoh stands at the head of the valley, and is sur- 
rouuded by rough monntains, thrown together 
very irregularly, and bearing some resemblance to 
tho Trosachs Iu Scotland. A large stream which 
flews through tho town, creates quite a water-pow¬ 
er, which is used for mills and manufactories On 
one of the heightba above the town, ore extensive 
ruins of a castle, but old castles had become so 
familiar to me that 1 had not the slightest desire 
to inspect them. At Grach tho road commenced 
a winding ascent, and alter following it an hour, I 
came out beyond the chain of mountains, and en¬ 
tered a more elevated and colder country. Vege¬ 
tation was not so forward or so laxuriantas in the 
valley of the Neckar, and the forest* of which 
there were many, had scarcely begun to grow 
green. In one lonely place I came to a shepherd, 
attending bis flock. He wore a long blue cloak, 
and bore a crook and pipe. While I was walking 
by he commenced playing to hi* flock on his pipe. I 
sat down and listened to the music which was not 
very artistic, being only a lively variation of Iwo 
or three notes, bat it sounded spirited and cheer¬ 
ing, and was romantic, taken in connection with 
the scene. The sheep did not seem to heed it, un¬ 
less a continued grazing was an expression of 
their applause. Many of the Bhcphcrds have cov¬ 
ered boxes, mounted on wheels, which they draw 
after them and sleep in at night. 
After leaving Feldatetten, the next day, the vil¬ 
lage in which the heavy rain had compelled me to 
remain over night, I walked through a bleak and 
gloomy looking country, with forests scattered 
over it iu real American style. It was about the 
dreariest cultivated landscape that I ever saw.— 
Tho fruit trees along tho road side, though scarce¬ 
ly higher than my head, were covered with iuobb 
and had the appearance of age. About the mid¬ 
dle ot the day the road suddenly wound down 
into the valley of the Blau, a stream that empties 
There is not an American name more exten¬ 
sively known throughout the civilized wnrld, nor 
one for which a higher respect is cherished among 
men of learning and science, than that ot the dis¬ 
tinguished Ornithologist, Audubon, whose birth 
occurred on the 4 T h of May, 1780, in the city of 
New Orleans. His parents were French, and, be¬ 
ing blessed with the means, sent their boy to Paris 
to acquire bis education in the best Rchoolaof that 
gay metropolis. After spending eight or ten years 
abroad, he returned to his native country, as the 
proper field in which to pursue those studies for 
which he had already acquired an over-master- 
taring passion. 
Ornithology and Entomology had early attracted 
the attention of young Audobon, and before he 
returned to America ho had made considerable 
proficiency In these sciences, although the field of 
his observations was extremely narrow and unsat¬ 
isfactory; but now his scope was unbounded and 
the material ample, and he resolved to give it a 
thorongh investigation. Aa soon as he could put 
himself in a Htate of readiness, he commenced 
those indefatigable and hazardous labors which 
ended only with hia life, aud which have crowned 
his name with an imperishable halo of glory. 
Audueon was one of the earliest pioneers of the 
Great We a*, and with knapsack slang, and his 
rifle, and net, and snares in his hsnd, he made the 
longest journeys across the broad prairiee, and 
through the wide bottoms, conutiug no labor lost, 
and no hardship of atiy account, so that he could 
bag a new bird or insect. As early as 1310, we find 
him sailing down the upper Mississippi in a birch 
canoe, with his wife and one child, who shared his 
perils and his joy. 
From that period his career was one of adven 
lure, romantic incident and varied fortune. Hard¬ 
ly a region in the United States was left unvisited 
by his presence; and the most inaccessible haunts 
For Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
BE OF GOOD CHEER. 
Ba of good cheer, with thee life’s joys 
Axe not all o’er. 
Long years of happiness for thee 
Are yet in store. 
Be not cast down, but firmly meet 
Life’s varied ills. 
Though storms arise and grief the heart 
With Badness tills. 
Hope on, hope on, let faith's own star 
With, iufiture bright, 
Across thy pathway ever shed 
Its radiant light. 
Though darkness rests upon tby path, 
And sorrows rise, 
A brighter home there Is for the« 
Beyond the skies. 
Then onward, upward, higher still 
Let us ascend. 
The path that leads from earth to Heaven 
Doth upward tend. 
Still upward as the eagle soars 
Toward the sun, 
Let us advance to meet the great 
Eternal one. 
Gorham, N. Y., 185T. A. B. H. 
THE BOOK OP JOB. 
The Book of Job is generally regarded as the 
most perfect specimen of the poetry of the He¬ 
brews. It is alike picturesque in the delineation 
of individual phenomena, Bud artistieallyjskillful 
in the didactic arrangement of the whole work.— 
In all the modern languages into which the Book 
of Job has been translated, its images, drawn from 
the natural scenery of the East, leaves a deep im¬ 
pression on the mind. 
“ The Lord waiketh on the heights of the waters, 
on the ridges of the waves, towering high beneath 
the force of the wind.” “The morning red has 
colored the margins of the earth, and variously 
formed the covering of the clouds, as the hand of 
man holds the yielding clay.” 
The habits of animals are described, as, for in¬ 
stance, those of the wild ass, the horse, the buffalo, 
the rhinoceros, and the crocodile, the eagle and 
the ostrich. We see " pure ether spread during 
the scorching heat of the South wind, as a'melted 
mirror over a parched desert” 
The poetic literature of the Hebrews is not defi¬ 
cient in variety of form; for while the Hebrew po¬ 
etry breathes a tone of warlike enthusiasm, from 
Joshua to Samuel, the little book of the gleaner 
Ruth presents us with a charming and exquisite 
picture of nature. Goethe, at the period of his en- 
thnsiasm for th e Eas t, spoke of it “as t heNoveliest 
of epic and idyl poetry which we possess.—//^. 
bol.it's Cosmos. 
FINE PREACHING. 
The curse of the age is fine preaching; it is 
morbid and pestilential The want of the age is 
plain intelligent preaching; preaching suggestive 
and illustrative; preaching absorbing all^that elo- 
qence can offer, out eloquence adapting itself 
(without which It ceases to be eloquence) to the 
wants and states of the people; availing itself of 
the lights of history for illustration; or of science 
manner so natural to one whose days are spent in my brain, was too great to be endured, without for cyagrnu rton; or of philology for elucidation, 
tie wilderness. Yet there wa- a fire in his piercing affecting the whole of my nervous system, I slept and holding also aloft that theymsy reflect their 
eye, and a spirit in his striking brow and erect not for several night* aud the days passed like raya upon the genius of Christianity, and develop 
mien, which evinced an unconquerable energy of days of oblivion, until the animal powers being ft g superior lustre, adaptability, aud power, 
purpose, and gave warrant of success in all the recalled into action, through the strength of my The atwmpt t0 gay gae things ta the pnlpis is a 
great plans of his life. constitution. I took up my gun, my note-book, and 8olemn 9ifl; an q gne sermons (like all other finery) 
In 1824 he went to England, where, though an- my pencils, and went forward to the woods as gay- are very evanescent in their influence. Let the 
known, and, at first, fifendlesa, he soon became ly as if nothing had happened.” He went forth, flne 8SrmoQ 8ysle m die out aa fast as possible, use- 
“ the admired of all admirers.” Saj s the American, and inlets than three yeais had bis portfolio filled. j ess ag it j g t0 God and man. Itdevolves upon a 
Phrenological Journal, “Men of gemna—ihe Wil- For the last ten or twelve years of his life, Acdu- few men tQ &how ^ tboge not gifted w fth so much 
sons, the Roscoks, the Swainsons, recognized his bon reposed upon his laurels, and in his quiet m0ra i coarage, that there is everything to gain and 
lofty claims; learned societies extended to him the little home, near the city of New York, enjoyed the nolMQg to loae by the adoption of a more honest 
warm and willing hand of friendship; the houses only repose he ever knew. Satisfied to have around 8} . Btem of ioatruotfon. Intelligence will ever hie 
of the nobility were opened to him; wherever ho him a few choice spirit* he did not mingle much a t0 the a ble to teach.- Gospel Messenger. 
went, the solitary, anlrieuded American woodsman in society, and to the world he has been known __ m , »_ 
was the conspicuous object of a wide remark and only through the results of bis labors. Here he 
love.” In 1831, at Edinburgh be put forth his first died in peace ou the 27th of January, 1851, aged 
volume of Ornithological Biography. The strik- seventy-one years. 
aa a 
JOHN JAMES AUDUBON, THE ORNITHOLOGIST. 
of Nature were disturbed by this adventurous and 
indefatigable Ornithologist, to whom a new dis¬ 
covery or a fresh experience was only the incen¬ 
tive to greater ardor, and further efforts in his 
favorite department of science. 
It was many years subsequent to this period that 
Audubon conceived the noble project of giving to 
ihe world a perfect history of all the feathered race 
in the United States. His project was on a scale 
commensurate with the magnificence of the sub¬ 
ject, and was not completed until after a quarter 
of a century's hard labor. Without funds, and with 
but the promise of some patronage, he set himself 
to ibis great work of his life with more zeal and 
cheerfulness than he would have done to the ac¬ 
quisition of afortune—countingno labor too much, 
and no paia3 or cost too great, so that he might 
gain one step in his great purpose. These whose 
good fortune It was to become acquainted with 
him at this time describe him as a man of marked 
appearance, original in bis character, of childlike 
demeanor, entirely free from that savageneas of 
manner so natural to one whoa? days are spent in 
t'i e wilderness. Yet there wa < a fire in his piercing 
pye, and a spirit in his striking brow and erect 
ing superiority of this soon procured him subscri¬ 
bers for the remainder of the work. In France he 
received like honors, but soon returned to America, 
which he explored froar Florida to Labrador, ex¬ 
panding the Biography to five volumes. At length 
the “Birds of America” was completed. The ele¬ 
gance of the engraving, the richness and delicacy, 
as well aa the life likeness of the coloring, took 
the world by surprise, and forever established the 
fame of Audubon as the great American Ornitholo¬ 
gist. 
As an instance of the wonderful perseverance of 
Mr. Audubon, it is related that having wandered 
and toiled for years to get accurate representations 
of American bird* he.found that two Norway rats 
had in a single night destroyed two hundred of his 
ori gin -1 drawin gscontaining the form of more than 
a thousand inhabitants of the air. All were gone, 
except a few bits of gnawed paper, upon which the 
marauding rascals had reared a family of their 
young. “The burning heat,” says the noble 
beared stiflcrer, “ which instantly rushed through 
my brain, was too great to be endured, without 
affecting the whole of my nervous system, I slept 
are very evanescent in their influence. Let the 
fine sermon system die out aa faat as possible, use¬ 
less as it is to God and man. It devolves upon a 
few men to show to those not gifted with so much 
moral coarage, that there is everything to gain and 
nothing to lose by the adoption of a more honest 
system of instruction. Intelligence will ever hie 
away to the man able to teach.— Gospel Messenger. 
mistook them for the mins of castle* and until I 
got different views, I did not perceive the decep¬ 
tion. The valley wi Uned at last into a plain, and 
the vast bulk of the Cathedral tower came in 
sight, while 1 was yet several miles from the city. 
I happened to walk Into the city with a soldier, 
and In conversation I asked him what the amount 
of his pay was. He replied nine kreutzers (six 
cents) daily, and considered that a good deal for 
tho common soldiers received ouly three kreutzere 
daily, bat as he waa an officer he got more. The 
rations of a common soldier, he Bald, were two 
pounds of bread and one warm meal each day. I 
did not wonder that he was dissatisfied with a sol¬ 
dier’s life and wished to escape and go to 
America. 
The Cathedral, which was begun in the 14th cen¬ 
tury, is not yet finished, and workmen are now en¬ 
gaged In building pinnacles over tho buttresses.— 
Tho tower will probably never be compluted; it is 
now three hundred and thirty-seven feet high.and 
if carried up according to the original plan it 
would be five hundred. From ita summit I had an 
admirable view of Ulm and its environs. It is one 
of tho most Btrongly fortified places on the couti* 
nent. A chain of massive forts surrounds it, and 
inside of this are the wails and other fortifications. 
The inhabitants number about twenty-three thou¬ 
sand, and it is its position, not its size, which 
makes it so important, and has caused It to be so 
strongly fortified. It is garrisoned by soldiers 
from Austria, Bavaria and Wlrtomberg. The Dan¬ 
ube here is a muddy stream, eighty or ninety paces 
wide, and so shallow that steamboats cannot navi¬ 
gate it. 
For Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
SCOTLAN D. 
Tbkrk i* perhaps, no country in the Old World, 
which presents more picturesque and enchanting 
scenery than Scotland. Her placid lake* dispers¬ 
ed through her territory, stretching the l selves 
ont like a broad expanse of silver, a* far as the 
eye caa reach—her mountains towering high into 
ether — her rivers and cascade* and her awful 
chssms and precipices, present to the eye of the 
beholder an appearance at once awlul, sublime, 
and imposing. But, perhaps, the recollections 
connected with her pristine glory, and her former 
history, may add a charm which the scenery itself 
does not present. We behold in those highlands ' 
the same rook-bound ollffa and glen* where Bruce 
and Waulac a so often secreted themselves, and 
their brave follower* when their lives were Bought 
for by blood thirsty tyrant* and every place re¬ 
calls some scene of her ancient history. A Scott, 
a Burns, and a Campbell, have rendered every 
mountain side—every hill and vale—every tower 
and castle, and each lake and rocky shore classic 
ground. 
Whore, iu the annala ot the world, and in the 
history of nation* shall we find more bravery,— 
more patriotic devotion and love of country—a 
more determined opposition to tyranny, and a 
greater love of liberty than iu the Scottish charac 
ter. In all their long and bloody ooutests against 
foreign aggression, we always find them the same 
bold and intrepid defenders of their country; 
warring only for liberty, aad not for conquest, or 
dominion; contented with iheir own highland 
ANCIENT AND MODERN GREEKS. 
Next to the pleasure enjoyed by the traveler in 
contemplating the ruins of Greece must be ranked 
that of comparing the singularity of the manners 
of the present inhabitants with those of the an¬ 
cients. In many of the ordinary practices of life 
this resemblance is striking. The hottest hours of 
the day are still devoted to sleep, as they were in 
the times recorded by Xenophon, when Conon at¬ 
tempted to escape from the Lacedaemonians at 
Lesbo* snd when Phcebidas surprised the citadel 
of Thebes. The Greeks still feed chiefly upon veg¬ 
etables, and salted or pickled provisions. The 
eyebrows of the Greek women are still blackened 
by art, and their cheeks painted occasionally with 
red and white, as described by Xenophon. This 
latter custom in particular is universal in Zanta 
among the upper classes. The laver, from which 
water is poured from the hand previous to eating 
appears by many passages in the Odyssey to have 
been a common utensil in the timeoi Homer; and 
something like the small moveable table, univer¬ 
sally used in the Levant, seems to have been com¬ 
mon amongst the ancient Greeks. According to 
HerodotuB, in his description of the banquet 
given by the Theban AntigonuB to Mardonins and 
the chiefs of the Persian army, there were two 
men, a Persian and Theban, placed at each table; 
which circumstance, being so particularly re- 
arked.was probably a deviation from the cus¬ 
tom ot each person having a table to himself.— 
Turner's Tour in the Levant 
I UAV8 come to the conclusion, says ProL Up- 
Affectation is the art of being a fool accord¬ 
ing to rule. Some people are never themselves 
into the Danube at Ulm, and after following ita until they succeed in being somebody else; and it 
downward course for an hour, I came to the vil¬ 
lage of Blaubeureu, which Is situated on tho edge 
of a green meadow and surrounded by high and 
rocky hills. The road continued in this valley to 
Ulm. The hills that rise upon eaoU baud arc steep 
aud craggy; some ot the crags have been worn 
into such fantastio shapes, that several times I 
is a molancholy fact that those who effect the 
transmigration, rarely become anybody at all. 
-- 
Becukoy has been well termed the sonl of all 
great designs; perhaps more has been effected by 
concealing our own intentions, than by discover¬ 
ing those of our enemy. Great men succeed in both. 
country they only sought repose In their’ seques- ^~ ™ ^ t J ^ ^ to pttU down tho scaffoldsjon which their brethren 
^ 18 aU , d ,T% HUd never 1 Hn ipf'S full power ot personal beauty, it must be by cherish- work. Shepherds, who should join then forces to 
moio, or marshalled their warriors but in det.nce . . . . um-rjogua_hw havinir tome- oppose tho common enemy, militatelagiunst their 
of their dearest right* and of their native land— iD * no ‘ ,le , ho *’ e * An<i P^P 08 * 8 -^ “ avm 8‘°me , , , . sample of their 
When an enemy invaded her territorie* the shrill thlQ « t0 Ao aDd Bomelhin * t ®. * 1 ' v ‘ 3for ’ * , , JL leara to but . ftQ d wounds and lame- 
of tho bugle would mu„hel from eve r, hill worthy of humueity - eud wh.oh, by «p«<l ng .the, tobW, »»d » ( 
und broke, noldiers true oud hold, determined to the soul, gives expansion and nymmotry to the ness aie the consequence 
“ do or die” in the defence of their country. Aiter bod Y which contains it. —tt Letcher . , ^ - 
battling through centurie* for the glorious boon 
of Liberty, her brave sons were doomed to be vas- 
salB and dependent upon the people of England. 
Attica, N. Y., 1867. Walter R. Bishop. 
In the a fit irs of life, activity is to be preferred 
to dignity; and practical energy and despatch, to 
premeditated composure and reserve. 
Preparation for Death. —When you Up down 
at night, compose yonr spirits as if yon were not 
to wake tiU the heavens be no more. And when 
yon wake in tho morning, consider the new day as 
your Iasi and act accordingly. Surely that night 
cometh of which you shall never see the morning, 
or that day of which you shall never see the night; 
hut which of your mornings and nights you know 
not Let the mantle of worldly'.enjoynent hang 
loose about you, that it may be safely dropped when 
death comes to carry you into another world.— 
When the fruit is ripe it falls off «he tree easily.— 
So when a Christian’s heart is truly weaned from 
the world, he is prepared for death. A heart dis¬ 
engaged from the world is a heavenly one, and 
then we are ready for heaven, when oar heart is 
before ns. 
-- 
If I had the righteousness of a saint, says one, 
0 how happy should I be! If I had the righteous¬ 
ness of an angel, says another, I should fear no 
eviC But I am bold to say, that the poorest sin¬ 
ner, who believes in Christ, has a righteousness 
infinitely more excellent than that of either saints 
or angels. If the law is for sinless perfection, it 
is to be found in Christ my divine surety. If the 
law requires an obedience, that may stand before 
the burning eye of God; behold, it fs la Jesus my 
mediator. Should the strictest Justioe.arraign me, 
and the purest holiness make its demands upon 
me; I remit them to my dying uad obedient Im- 
manueL With him the father is always well pleas¬ 
ed ; and in him, the believer stands complete.— 
Harvey. 
Religious Controversy. —Preachers entangled 
in an angry controversy instead of agreeing to 
build the temple of God, think themselves obliged 
— Fletcher. 
__—- 
People frequently reject great truths, not so 
much for want of evidence, as for want of an incli¬ 
nation to search for it. 
AiTA”VTUUJcTllTAtTL 
