zsa&mmaBst 
MOORE’ 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
BOOKS. 
'Persons who buy books conscientiously, who 
mean to purchase only such as afl'ord the best 
instruction or the best amusement, often experi¬ 
ence great difficulty in making a selection. No 
one would willingly buy an inferior article 
when, for the same price, he could get the best. 
Second-rate books owe their prosperity to the 
ignorance of readers. Occupying the most 
prominent places in the bookstore, the inexpe¬ 
rienced reader who enters to get some books 
without knowing what he wants, takes these 
because they lie conspicuously before him, look 
tempting, and he does not know that there is 
anything better. Of those who know before 
hand what they want, the majority have made 
their choice on the recommendation of newspa¬ 
per, magazine, or the speech of acquaintance or 
friend. Of course new books are most written 
about and most talked about and consequently 
most bought. 
Now, it is reasonable to suppose that of the 
many new books continually offered to the pub¬ 
lic, scarcely one or two in each year—some years, 
perhaps, not a single one — is produced worthy 
to rank with those that have come down to us 
from the Past. Not that the fact of a certain 
book having been written centuries ago is evi¬ 
dence of its great value, but the fact that it has 
lived for hundreds of years proves that it must 
possess extraordinary worth. Indeed, a hook 
must have more than average merit that con¬ 
tinues to be printed and read after it is a hun¬ 
dred years old. If, then, one wishes to be sure 
of getting a good book lot him get an old one; if 
he would enjoy the best the world has in the 
way of Literature, let him read books that have 
stood the test of Time. Perhaps the young, in¬ 
experienced reader who has no one to apply to 
for counsel, can lay down no better rule than 
this for his own guidance in the choice of books. 
There is no other time of life when it is so 
important that one should read the best books 
he can get, as iu youth. For then the intclleetr 
ual tastes are forming, and if, at this period, one 
accustom himself to mediocrity he will be likely 
to continue satisfied with it as long as he lives, 
and even learn to he afraid of anything better. 
From a notion that the best books are beyond 
their comprehension — that their education lias 
not fitted them to understand the master-works 
in Literature — thousands of persons of ambi¬ 
tious, aspiring nature pass through life unac¬ 
quainted with the greatest writers even in their 
own language; except, perhaps, through an oc¬ 
casional brief extract in school reader or news¬ 
paper. But if boys at academy and college can 
read appreciatingly the greatest of poets, his¬ 
torians, philosophers and moralists of ancient 
times, and in their original tongues, why cannot 
others of equal or greater age, whose opportuni¬ 
ties at school have been limited, advantageously 
read the same authors in translations? And 
what but common sense and a knowledge of the 
meaning of words in one’s own language is 
necessary to the understanding of the best native 
authors? Indeed is it not true that they to 
whom have been accorded the highest places as 
instructors of mankind express their thoughts 
with greater plainness and simplicity than the 
lesser teachers? The greatest genius has the 
deepest, clearest perceptions; and what one sees 
clearly he ean easily convey to others. 
South Livonia, N. Y., 1861. A. 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
WHISPERING IN SCHOOL 
Whispering is one of the greatest of school 
evils, and one of the worst to manage. Indeed, 
I think I may safely say that three-fourths of 
the noise and irregularities in school are due to 
an improper management of whispering. There 
are very many plans adopted, some of which I 
will mention. 
A very common plan is to give permission 
only when it is asked, allowing pupils to ask any 
time they choose. Another Is, to allow all to 
whisper every time a class changes. Another, 
to have stated periods of from two to live min¬ 
utes, several times during the day; while 6ome 
teachers allow their pupils to whisper all they 
choose, and others forbid it entirely. 
Now, must a youug, inexperienced teacher 
choose from these many plans, or try them all? 
My advice is, nover try experiments. Many 
schools have been utterly ruined by trying ex¬ 
periments. Children are not all fools: they can 
soon see whether a teacher has a mind of his 
own or not, and they quickly leant to disrespect 
a fickle-minded teacher. Let the young teacher 
use a little reason and common sense, and profit 
by the experience of hundreds of his predeces¬ 
sors. For tny part. 1 nover could sec the pro¬ 
priety of whispering during study hours. When 
school is called to order in the morning, every 
pupil has a chance to procure all the necessary 
articles he or she may ueed until recess; also to 
find out where all the lessons arc. What more 
does a pupil need until recess ? Where is the 
necessity of whispering to other pupils? If a 
scholar needs aid or an explanation, the teacher 
Is there for that very purpose. A pupil should 
not bo allowed to trouble his neighbor every 
time a little difficulty present* itself, lie should 
early learn the lesson to rely upon self — that it 
is utterly Impossible to ride up the hill of science 
on another’s shoulders, for sooner or later the 
persou upon which he rides will “ give out,” 
and he that rides will roll down tho hill never 
to rise. 
Again, let us look for a moment upon some of 
the evils which ariso from the practice. 
First, it makes a noise which more or less dis¬ 
turbs the whole school. 
Second, if pupils are allowed permission to 
whisper about their lessons, they very soon 
whisper about things which do not in any way 
pertain to their lessons, and the more they 
Whisper, the more they wish to, until they think 
It necessary to whisper the whole time. 
Third, supposing a pupil gets interested in the 
solution of a difficult, knotty problem, at which 
he has been working for some time—he has his 
whole thoughts concentrated upon that one 
thing, he is almost through and he feels that he 
is about to gain a great victory, when a little 
urchin hunches him in the ribs and wants to 
know how he will trade balls. His thoughts fly 
in every direction, and it will probably take him 
an hour to gather his thoughts again ready to go 
at work, and he knows he is liable to the same 
interruption again and feels discouraged. Such 
instances are not unfrequent, and who will say 
that whispering under such circumstances is not 
a humbug? 1 
The conclusion then that I arrive at, is, that 
whispering is not only useless, but a very seri¬ 
ous detriment to the advancement of education 
in our common schools. 
The plan T adopt is this:—When I call school 
l give the pupils about three minutes to procure 
all they need till recess; then while the boys 
are out I give the girls a chance to leave their 
seats, whisper, and rest themselves; then when 
the girls are out, the boys have the same chance. 
Thus during study bourH I have no whispering 
or leaving scats unless a pupil is suffering with 
the cold or something of that nature. In the 
afternoon I adopt the same plan, and I have 
found it to work well. Still there may be better 
plans than mine, 1 do not pretend to be perfect, 
and if any of your readers have a better plan, or 
one equally good, I shall be happy to read it, for. 
as I intend to teach as loug as lam able, I am 
desirous of doing the best I can, and, having 
taught only five terms, there are many more ex¬ 
perienced than myself. A. H. Carman. 
Manchester, Wis-, 1S&L 
sefal, JFcieatftif, &f. 
TO THE GORRILLA, 
IN ROCHESTER UNIVERSITY. 
Wn at is it greets ns in this classic hall ? 
No more a myth—but a most real presence: 
Towering in majesty, above the small 
And grinning tribes,—expansion of their essence; 
Subdued and softened now thy bold defiance— 
A peaceful inmate of this Court of Science. 
Are you the key, O Monkey, to unlock 
The sealed and scientific mystery?, 
VVere Apes the parents of the human stock, 
Long ere the records of primeval story? 
What countless ages did it take to span 
The ethic chasm from baboon to man ? 
Are you still undergoing tratislUrmaLuir., 
To men, that travelers have seen, with tails* 
And do you claim a kinship with the nation 
Of Bushmen, eating beetles, mice, and snails’ 
iiow wonderful the Power, forever moulding 
New forms, and broad Creations still unfolding! 
If not your Word, perhaps your Brain may tell 
What possibilities remain in store. 
What convolutions yet must rise and swell, 
Ere you can master metaphysic lore. 
Those flattened, frontal lobes may grow to something, 
And make, at length, a savant of a dumb thing! 
Perhaps a Naturalist thus may rise 
To far outshine a Darwin or Lamarck: 
As blazing suns, that now adorn the skies, 
Were once but nebulae, obscure and dark. 
Science must follow fair analogy, 
Whate'er betides one’s genealogy. 
If you have not bestowed sufficient study 
On tilings arctuvologlc and profound: 
And And your Intellect confused and muddy, 
Unequal to the themes your looks propound,— 
Are there not subjects you could ventilate, 
Bearing at least upon your present state? 
Wise men and learned have taught ns to believe 
You were endowed with arts insinuating; 
And, serpent like, beguiled our Mother Eve 
With honied words, her pious fears berating, 
Raising her wild desires and vain ambition, 
To end iu poverty and our perdition. 
Was it for this—thy primal, fatal error, 
Your speech was changed to an unmeaning chatter? 
That thickest woods own thee their king and terror? 
Mysterious brnie, or tiend! that’s what’s the matter, 
If, roaming Paradise with Father Adam, 
You whispered secrets iu the ear of madam! 
tx. 
What were you made for? Surely, one must think 
You have some part to play iu this creation: 
Is It aloue to live, and eat, and drink? 
Could you not serve upon a rice plantation— 
Raise sugar cane, and cotton, for the masses, 
And carry burdens, as do mules and asses? 
Fearless in strength, your brawuy arm can twist 
To shapelessness a gun,—a rod of iron 
You’d tie up like a string,—and, with your fist, 
Lay senseless on the ground the sturdy Lion. 
Would not the “ prize ring ” offer some temptation 
To draw you out, for Belts, and an ovation? 
You’ve natural affection without doubt. 
And teach your babies all the monkey graces: 
Caress and pet them—whip them if they pout; 
Teach them to Lick their bauds and wash their faces. 
Why did you never teach them to build houses— 
Improve their social state, and put ou blouses’ 
You must have rights anthropoid, but ’tis clear 
They have not boon respected; what's your own, 
If not your skin? well stuffed and standing here: 
White Tar away confederate flesh and bone, 
Their elements return to earth and air; 
While mourn your family we know not where. 
Methinks your talents have not had their uses; 
All things were made for man, and so were you; 
Free idleness has manilold abuses; 
Where hands are given, there’s also work to do. 
You might thus rid our land, by growing docile, 
Of “ institutions ” fast becoming fossil 
Men, that have feet, were made to run away 
From tyrants and oppressors what can bind 
The restless spirit of this house of clay 
To everlasting thraldom*—the free wisd 
Doth whistle them away—somewhere to find, 
Inalienable rights to all assigned. 
I wish you were, or one thing, or the oth«r, 
But le&s resembling our Immunity; 
We cannot hail tiicc ns a “ man an'd brother’’— 
As brute, your likeness shocks onr vanity! 
Your features, form, aud aspect cranial, 
Come quite too near the type 11 bimaniai.” 
are found depositing saline matter on the earth 
about them, and from these the water Is con¬ 
veyed in pipes to the boiling works. Two the¬ 
ories are given for the formation of brine: one, 
that the salt is contained in hopper-shaped cav¬ 
ities which abound In the gypseous rocks in the 
neighborhood, aud, by a process of filtration, is 
carried into the underlying sandstone, and ab¬ 
sorbed by the gravel deposits; another, that 
beneath the lake, at a great depth, is a bed of 
rock salt, and this, dissolved by the infiltration 
of water, permeates the bed of overlying gravel, 
and supplies the springs with brine. In support 
of the latter theory it is alleged that the bottom 
of the lake is undergoing a gradual subsidence, to 
which fact its peculiar shape is owing—it being 
very shallow (only from three to five feet deep) 
LtMiaij f0* Ifflmtij, 
THE FIRST THEFT, 
“What nice, ripe currants!” said Harry 
Maitland to himself, as he passed Farmer Jones' 
garden, and saw the currant-bushes growing 
close to the fence, laden with fruit. “ How I 
wish I could get some!’’ and he looked around 
to seo if any one was near him. No, there was 
no one in sight; so lie commenced picking and 
eating all he could reach. There were some 
branches hanging through the palings of the 
fence, full of most tempting fruit, and others 
I which he could easily reach from the top. He 
several hundred feet from shore, and then sud- on ‘- v meaDT ' to ea ^ a commenced, 
Was it by accident, or wise design, 
Yon failed to be a man, yet came so near; 
Stopping where Nature, limits did assign 
To upward struggle for existence dear,— 
With all the power of “ natural selection,” 
Failing to reach the summit of perfection? 
XVII. 
Gorrilla! why so silent and disdainful,— 
Hast thou no power to move the stubborn jaw, 
And pour a flood of light on problem? painful 
To Ethnologic schools ? Thou man of si raw! 
Why art thou standing here, so high, in College, 
To rack our fancies, and perplex our knowledge ’ 
[liochetler Democrat and American. 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
SALT; HOW IT IS MADE. 
BY AISACH. 
The first mention which we have of the 
Ouondaga Salt Springs at Syracuse, N. Y., and 
which supply this important article of domestic 
economy for the consumption of about one-half 
of the State, together with the States and parts 
of States lying west of New York and embracing 
the valley of the Upper Mississippi, embracing, 
also, Canada W eat and a part of Pennsylvania, 
is in the “Jesuit Relations” of Father Laxle- 
mant. In 1846, having arrived among the 
Onondaga Indians, for the purpose of establish¬ 
ing a mission, he mentions the “ salt fountains•” 
as being found on the shores of Onentaha lake, 
and forming small deposits of salt about their 
mouth?. The next mention is by Fatlier Lh 
Moyne, who ascended the SL Lawrence from 
Mont Real, and, coasting along the shore of lake 
Ontario, reached the mouth of Oswego river, 
and ascended it to Onondaga lake, and establish¬ 
ed a mission on its banks. Here, in the next 
year, lie was shown a spring which the Iudiaus 
thought a demon inhabited, but which he pro¬ 
nounced, upon tasting, to be a saline; “and. in 
fact we made salt from it as natural as that from 
the sea. of which we carried a sample to Que¬ 
bec.” This was in Augus., 1656, '.ad the exor¬ 
cising of the demon, and the production of this 
“sample” was the beginning of a manufacture 
that, in 1862, reached the enormous aggregate of 
9.500,000 bushels, and, in the words of the 
Superintendent, “would have reached half a 
million more had it not been for the high stage 
of water in the lake.” 
This salt immediately came -into use among 
the Indians, and frequent mention is made of it 
by the Jesuit Fathers. In 1770 the Delaware 
Indians commonly used this Onondaga salt, and 
traders brought it to Albany as a curiosity, and 
the Indian women manufactured it and sent it 
to Quebec for sale. But at New Amsterdam the 
story of Father Lk Moyne was pronounced a 
“Jesuit lie." The springs attracted no especial 
attention until after the Revolution, though a 
deed of the land had been given to Sir William 
Johnson, by the Indians, some years pre¬ 
viously. Comfort Tylf,k. in 1788, was 
shown the spring by the Indians, and in the 
month of May. taking an iron kettle of fifteen 
gallons capacity, he made. “ in nine hours, about 
thirteen bushels of salt.” In Sept, of the same 
year the treaty of Ft. Stamvix was made, and 
the land for a mile in width around the lake was 
held jointly by the Indians and people of the 
State for the purpose of making salt. As a first 
fruit of this treaty, Nathaniel Loomis came 
by the way of Oneida Lake aud river with a 
few kettles, and during the winters of 1789 and 
’90, “made from 500 to 600 bushels of salt, 
which he sold for one dollar per bushel." This, 
of course, was boiled in the open air, in kettles 
hung upon crotches, as tho early settlers made 
maple sugar, and it was not till ’93 that two men 
erected an arch, containing four potash kettles, 
aud manufactured quantities sufficient for the 
wants of the surrounding country. This was 
the beginning of the salt business as it is now’ 
carried on; and from this humble origin has 
sprung the enormous trade that first spoke the 
Erie canal into existence, and has created a city 
with the eognomou of the "Salt City." 
The origin of this salt is one of those mysteri¬ 
ous things which occasionally puzzle our geolo¬ 
gists, despite their persistency in reading the 
cryptographic book ot Nature. The springs 
issued from low and marshy ground surround¬ 
ing the lower end of Onondaga lake—a small 
sheet of water about six miles loug by a 
mile and a half in width, situate near the de» 
boue.hure of the striug of small lakes of Central 
Now York into lake Ontario. This lake seems 
formerly to have occupied the whole of the val¬ 
ley, which, with its gentle, rising slopes, and its 
expanding city, stretches southward toward the 
dividing ridge that separates the waters of the 
Susquehanna from those that llow into the St. 
Lawrence. But a gradual subsidence has taken 
place, until the lake has reached its present di¬ 
mensions, and presents evidence of a lowering 
of some eighty feet at a late period. In the 
marsh which surrounds the southern and west¬ 
ern sides of the lake, the salines, or salt springs. 
denly deepening to about twenty-five feet, and 
then gradually sloping to the depth of fifty-five f 
feet in the middle of the lake, this being caused 
by the melting ot the bed of rock salt. A fur- 1 
ther proof is, that the deeper wells are bored 1 
the more nearly saturated is the brine found. It J 
seems that during the influx of the sea, the val- ' 
ley now occupied by the iake was scooped out 
of the rocks, cutting several strata in two, and ' 
leaving the trench thus formed full of salt water, : 
which, being evaporated by both solar heat and 1 
the elevated temperature of the rocks, precipi- 1 
tated its salt; and this process of filling and 
evaporation was repeated many times, till a bed, ! 
consisting of salt mixed with impurities, was 
formed at the bottom of this rocky barin. Dur- 1 
ing the Drift period this was covered with 1 
gravel, and over it, sand to the depth of some ; 
hundred feet, filling the hollow nearly ap, and 
on the top of this a layer of clay accumulated, 
forming the present, bed of the lake, and pre- 1 
venting its waters from reaching the deposit of 
salt. The bed of rock salt is of unknown thick¬ 
ness, like that in the valley of the Holston, Va., 
which has been penetrated 150 feet, but without 
passing through it. During the early years of 
the manufacture the brine was only carried in 
pipes from the springs that reached the surface, 
and the quality was much inferior to that which 
has since been produced by digging and boring. 
The first well of any note was at Saliua, on the 
south-eastern shore of the lake, sunk about 30 
feet in 1807, and from this water was pumped 
by hand by each manufacturer. The first pump¬ 
ing done by water-power was not until 1810. 
The present maimer of procuring the water is 
by sinking a shaft on the bank of the lake, and 
carrying it down to any required depth. The 
tubing consists of maple logs, closely jointed, 
and turned to the uniform diameter of fourteen 
inches, the bore inside being eight inches. The 
first section is cast iron, and this is pressed into 
the ground and sections added as they are re¬ 
quired. while the dirt and gravel, after being bro¬ 
ken up by the drills, is lifted from the interior 
by buckets with valve* opening downward. 
Various obstructions are removed in an ingen¬ 
ious manner, and logs have been met with as 
deep as 134 feet; the sharp drills, worked up and 
down bv machinery, cutting through them 
piecemeal. The deepest well yet made is 414 
feet, passing first through beach sand, next about 
150 feet of clay, then about 220 feet of sand aud 
gravel, and lastly into a bed of red day which, 
it is supposed, forms the bottom of the basin. 
In being foreed into the last deposit, it became 
stopped up and was abandoned; though before 
doing this its brine was the strongest yet pro¬ 
duced. The wells at Syracuse vary between 
225 feet and S40 feet in depth; and those at Sa- 
lina from 100 feet to 300 feet; while at Liverpool, 
on the east side of the iake. their depth is only 
about 100 feet. The quality of the brine ob¬ 
tained is found to improve with the depth, and 
it has been suggested that if wells were sunk 
iu the bottom of the lake the underlying bed 
of salt might be reached —all the wells here¬ 
tofore made being on the shore of the lake. 
W hen a well is once obtained, w ooden tubes are 
connected with it, leading to a pump that draws 
up the brine. By means of force pumps it is 
elevated to reservoirs, from which it runs by its 
own*gravity to the “works.” A visit to the 
State Pump showed two long cylindrical water¬ 
wheels, of eighteen feet diameter, driving four 
large force-pumps which send the brine, raised 
in an adjoining building, to the reservoir, an 
immense tank several rods distant. The brine 
is conveyed to this through large iron pipes, 
and from this enormous vat, contained in a large 
building, or framework, and sufficiently eleva¬ 
ted to command all the immediate neighbor¬ 
hood, pump-logs carry the brine and distribute 
it to the several “fields" aud “works.” I 
counted seven rows of these pump-logs, and 
some idea may be formed of their extent, when 
it is learned that several years ago tbere were 
more than twenty-five miles of this kind of 
tubiug in use. and there must be far more now. 
In addition to the wooden reservoirs, there has 
beeu a large tank, or cistern, dug in the adjoin¬ 
ing ground, lined with water-lime cement, and 
the surplus water is therein contained. The 
State of New York owns thirteen of these wells, 
aud there are many more owned by companies 
and private individuals at the villages of Liver¬ 
pool, S;il in a and Geddes, (the last two being sub¬ 
urbs of Syracuse,) as well as in Sy mouse itself. 
[Concluded next week.] 
— The trustees of Columbia College are 
about adding to that institution a “School o. 
Applied Sciences,” with a view to meet the 
wants of thoroughly trained experts in the pro¬ 
motion of industrial interests. The course o. 
study, which is to cover three years, will in¬ 
clude Analytical Chemistry, Mineralogy, Metal¬ 
lurgy, Lithology, and the Formation of Metal¬ 
lic Veins. Geology. Paleontology, Machines, 
Mining, Mining Legislation, etc. The instruc¬ 
tion will be by lectures, by practical training in 
analysis, and by inspection of mines in actual 
operation. 
but they were so good, that he did not want to 
stop; so he kept, on pick! ug and eating, until he 
was startled by the sound of wheels. He looked 
up, and there, coming from the barn, right 
through the lane where he was standing, was 
Farmer Jones himself, in his little wagon, and 
he must pass directly by Harry. If he had 
been used to concealment, Harry would just 
have walked on as if nothing had happened, 
and very likely Farmer Jones would have sus¬ 
pected nothing, as it was not unusual to see 
persons in his lane, for it connected two roads 
which were extensively traveled. But Harry 
had never before taken anything that did not 
belong to him; and as hd saw the farmer com¬ 
ing, his first thought was that he would be 
found out; so he started to run at the top of his 
Speed, and never stopped until he was inside of 
Lis mother’s gate, which was not far off. 
Farmer Jones, seeing a boy running away 
from him in that roauner, naturally supposed 
there was some reason for it. “ Ah!" said he to 
himself, “ there is one of the young rogues 
who has been stealing my garden tools lately; 
yes, there, he has a rake in his hands now.” 
And he whipped up his horse and drove after 
him. Harry had a little the start of him 
though, so that he did not overtake him until 
he was just at his mother’s door. 
‘ 1 Here, you young rascal!’’ shouted the farmer, 
“stop and let me see that rake: where did you 
get it?” 
At the first sound of the farmer’s voice, Harry 
turned toward him pale and trembling, but he 
was very much relieved at hearing him ask 
about the rake. He went boldly to the wagon 
with it in his hand. “ It is mine, six.’" said he, 
handing it to the fanner. 
“ I believe it is," said the farmer, as he ex¬ 
amined it; “it is not mine, at any rate; but 
what were you doing with it in my lane ?” 
“ I was coming from my grandmother’s, sir, I 
had been raking in her garden.’’ 
“ Then you are not one of the boys who have 
been stealing my tools lately.” 
“ No. sir," said Harry promptly. 
“ But then what made you run so fast, when 
you saw me coming?” asked the farmer. 
Harry looked down and hesitated; but he 
could not add to his sin by telling a lie, so he 
stammered out, “ I was eating currants, sir.” 
“Ho! ho! then you were stealing." said the 
fanner. “ I was not so far wrong, after all.” 
But then, seeing the tears fall from Harry’s 
eyes, he added, kindly: “The next time you 
want currants, go to Mrs. Jones, andjshe will 
give you as many as you will pick, for there are 
more thau we shall ever use; and remember 
this: * The wicked flee when no man pursueth; 
but the righteous are as bold as a lion.MDo 
what is right, and then you need never run 
away from any one.” 
Farmer Jones drove on, and Harry went into 
the house; but there his mother met him. 
“Why, Harry," said she, “what did Mr. 
Jones want with you? and you have been cry¬ 
ing too, lad—what’s the matter?" 
It was of no use to try and conceal anything 
from the loving eyes of his mother; so Harry 
told her the whole story. “But, O, mother." 
said he. as he finished, “ I will never take any¬ 
thing that does not belong to me again. I don't 
see how a boy can want to be a thief, and feel 
as frightened as I have felt. The boys that I 
know do take the farmer’s fruit, though, and 
say it is no harm, and that they would just as 
lief they had it is not." 
“I know they do. my son," said his mother; 
but ask them if they would do i: if the owner 
saw them, and they couldn’t say yes. Farmer 
Jones is willing to give you currants, but he is 
not willing to have you. take, them without 
leave. Y'ou may be sure whenever you are 
afraid to be seen doing an action, that action is 
wrong. I hope, indeed, that the suffering which 
this first theft has caused will make it your last. 
Many a boy who has commenced -by taking a 
few currants or apples which did not belong to 
him. without being found our, has ended by 
being sent to prison for stealing much greater 
things. 
" But if you will always remember to look up 
when you are tempted to steal, you will be kept 
from sin, lor you can hide nothing from God.” 
There is many an unfortunate one, whose 
heart, like a sunbeam, always appears loveliest 
in its breaking asunder. 
It is oulv by labor that thought can be made 
bealtby. ami only by thought that labor can be 
made happy. 
Good speech carries the "sound of no man’s, 
no angel's voice. Good writing betrays no man’s 
hand, but is as if traced by the finger of God. 
The grandest thoughts are colorless as water; 
they savor not of Milton. Socrates, or Menu: 
seem not drawn from any private cistern, but 
rain-drops out of the pure sky. 
Follow the laws of Nature.fand you will 
never be poor—your wants will be but few. 
Follow the laws of the world, and you never 
will be rich—your wants will never be satis¬ 
fied. 
