368 



MOOSE'S RURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY NEWSPAPER. 



NOV. 13. 



padus' f Btt-gdi®. 



Come let me b»tlie your glowing che*k», 



MUSIC 



Ma iv 



i Lptheb said of Undo, " It is one of ihe 

 fairest and most glorious gifts of Gob, to which 

 Satan is a bitter enemy; for it removes from 

 the heart the weight of sorrows and the fascina- 

 tion of evil thoughts. Music is a kind and gentle 

 sort of discipline; it redoes ihe passions and im- 

 proves the understanding." There is noihing which 

 roles so powerfully, and yet bo gently over us, as the 

 soothing Btrainaof music. If the heart is foil to 

 overflowing with joy and gladness, it borate forth 

 in song — if the heavy hand of affliction ielnid npon 

 as, and all seems dark around, a song may diBpel 

 the clonda in the heart's horizon. Under whatever 

 oircumstancee it is heard, it awakens high and 

 lofty emotions. Long years ago, when earth was 

 youug and clad in robes of virgin beanty, the 

 * morning starB sang together." When the chil- 

 dren of Israel beheld "Pharaoh and hia hosts de- 

 stroyed in the Red Sea, they sang a song of praise 

 to the Lord for his great goodness in that be had 

 delivered them from the power of the Egyptians. 

 Angels proclaimed the advent of the Savior to 

 the hnmble shepherds on the plains of Judea, and 



Patmog, beheld in * vision, "a great multitude 

 which no man can number,-' who stood forever be- 

 fore the Eternal Throne and tang the praises of 

 Ilimwho sitteth upon it. Thus does mnsic come 

 down to us through the long lapse of ages hal- 

 lowed with sacred associations. It is listened to 

 by the rich and powerful, or by the humble peasant 

 in his lowly cot Tib free to all— free as the air of 



"HOOPOLOGY," CONTINUED." 



I have been anxiously looking for the reply to 

 the query, " / wonder if Amelia wears hoop/I"— 

 and here it cornea in the paper to-day. Greatly to 

 my disappointment abe does not. And why? "Be- 

 cause she thinks the fashion one of the moa1 

 ridiculous the world has ever seen. 1 ' Now I pro- 

 fess to be by nature and practice one of the most 

 patient of my sex, bat here I oonfess to feeling my 

 righteous indignation thoroughly arouaed. 



It is just as absurd to ridicule and decry £ 

 of dress simply because it Is the fashion, as i 

 adopt an extravagance for the same reason. Every 

 ignorant and brainless scribbler, who has reached 

 the position of editor to a petty newspaper, every 

 rowdy upon the street corners, has had his vulgar 

 fling at hoops. Jeata innumerable have be< 

 tered and chronicled at their expense, and laughed 

 at by high and low. Yet all the time sensible peo- 

 ple, who have bestowed any thought upon the sub 

 ject, have been convinced of the real value and 

 ntility of these much abused hoops. Take op any 

 book on physiology, read any of the thoosai 

 treatises on health especially addressed to womf 

 and uniformly you will flud the heat and pressure 

 of heavy skirts denounced as the cause of 

 tenths of the cases of weakness and disease. Very 

 few women who have given the subject any . 

 Hon have failed to notice tbfs in their own 

 A great many expedients have been suggested by 

 women who have devoted themselves to the matter 

 of reform in dress, for obviating this, hut none so 

 effectual as the usa of hoops. " Amelia" may say 

 she does not burden herself in such a manner, hut 

 if she would not consider herself contaminated 

 by the experiment, I would earnestly request her 

 to wear for one day the interdicted hoops, and then 

 see if in their absence she is not sensible of a 

 wearisome burden she had not before noticed. — 

 Mind, I do not request that, "if she be tall, she 

 Bhall make herself resemble a hogshead, or if 

 short, a jug," bat "let yonr moderation be known" 

 by following a good fashion without abusing it— 

 Everything maybe made absurd by carrying to 

 extremes, hut that is no argument against it. In 

 conclusion, I will give my experience by saying, 

 that after the trial of hoops for two years I find 

 them in every way comfortable, agreeable and health- 

 /«/—that after traveling more than two thousand 

 miles by railroad in them, I have never found 

 them inconvenient, and that it is my fixed purpose 

 never to abandon them for sneers, or ridicule, or 

 change of fashion, g. c . 



€Mu IpsMtag. 



MEMOllVS PICTLRE* 



d perished rmouood's bloom. 



MARRIAGES. 



is the star-studded floor of heaven. The Archi- 

 t and Builder was Omnipotence; He reared that 

 i which shall stand when the domes and 

 Jhinarets of St Peters' have crumbled to dust, and 

 those who raised those lofty columns shall have 

 taken np their abode in the "marble halls of 

 Death." Listen to tho soul thrilling music that 

 echoes throngh the lofty corridors Bnd down the 

 lengthened aisles — the "wild, profound, eternal 

 bass" as heard In the roarof ocean when the Storm 

 King reigns— the low sighing of the evening- 

 breeze coming as it were from the gates of para- 

 dise, telling of a land fairer than sun or moon ever 

 shone upon, whose beauties mortal eyes never be- 

 held, of whOBe joys mortal earB never heard, The 

 anthem of praise shall never cease to resound 

 throngh the noble structure, till the Apocalyptic 



fallin : 



who took this view of the question based i 

 opinions upon insufficient evidence. They found 

 main classes of marriages there was a 

 ', and they concluded raiher hastily that 

 it he a similar falling off in other classes. 

 Recent retains show that the price of provisions 

 influences very greatly the marriagei 

 lower classes, but "- there ar ao ■ r 



.llu Epoakh 



subject holds the following language, which is 

 equally applicable to certain classes in this coon 

 try: 



The only truth with which the argnment was 

 tinctured was thip. that in a certain class, where 

 the education and habits generally acquired are 

 considerably above the pecuniary competence 

 usually possessed, there does appear a growing 

 difficulty in making matches in sufficient number. 

 The class inqnestion, which would be found in the 

 lovela of the great middle order of society, 



at Time i 



1 be i 



But there is a harp whose "thousand strings" 

 once touched will never cease to vibrate— they will 

 tremble and quiver long after the hand that struck 

 them Bhall have mouldered in the grave. Ye who 

 engage in the great work of teaching, remember 

 that it 1b your high-born privilege to call forth 

 Bweeteat atrainB of music from those golden 

 chords; or, should you strike them with a careless 

 hand, awaken harsh discords cither of whioh shall 

 echo to the last moment of recorded time, and 

 long as the ages of eternity shall roll Oh, then, 

 go forth, and labor faithfully in the great moral 

 vineyard of the earth, and when the Master shall 

 call in his laborers at the evening hour of life, your 

 reward shall be the smiles of an approving God 

 and a conscience at peace with its Maker — what 

 more could yon desire? What nobler employment 

 could you ask for than that of leading immortal 

 minds to the fountain of knowledge, of fitting 

 •horn fur a life of usefulness here on earth and a 

 life of peace and rest beyond "death's swelling 

 flood." The poet has most beautifolly sung, 



Every throb of the heBrt tells ua that we are p 

 ing away. The sonl beats wildly against Its pri 

 walls of clay, and straggly , be free . BOon 

 bars of life shall break, r, Qr hearts shall have 1 

 the last "march" and then, only then, may 



echo 



the golden har 



of eternity with a ceaseless song of pratee" 



Ip we reprove or chastise before we feel a pain- 

 ful regret on aooonnt of the necessity f or it, the 

 proper season for doing it has not yet arrived. 



i'-'holt? l 



n«h i 



: the i 



soft 



which the: 



activity of tongue and pen, and where any de- 

 rangement attracts a good deal of attention. 

 The people comprised in it are eminently writing 



and talking people, and they talk and 

 what comes home most forcibly to themselves.— 

 They are also people of no small influence, and foi 

 this, as well as for general reasons, it is much to bi 

 wished that the anomaly could be removed. A 

 young lady of this class has not n fair chance ol 

 getting comfortably married, but the fault and the 

 remedy can be both indicated in a moment Moth- 

 ers must not expect for their daughters at the age 

 of 21 such an establishment as they enjoy them- 

 selves after 30 years of matrimony. Neither pro- 

 fessions nor fortunes can be obtained full-grown.— 

 The mistake lies in the endeavor to reproduce the 

 full scale in the caseol 



expect 1 



parent establlsht 

 each child at it 



holder with £3,000 a year were t 

 every one of hiB daughters should 

 riage upon exactly such a property. Fathers 

 should remember that their elevation came by de- 

 grees; sons that they have naturally the same pro- 

 bation to go throngh ; and mothers, that what they 

 have now they had not when they began. To the 

 daughters we say nothing, for the fault is rarely 

 theirs; but the whole evil would vanish at once if 

 It were but openly acknowledged that people might 

 move on the same social level with broad distinc- 



A Most Excellent Thing: in Woman.— There ia 

 one part of a woman'seducation often forgotten or 

 neglected— the cultore and formation of a gentle 

 voice. It is a great gift of nature, to be aided by 

 caltnre-an Instrument of powerful influence for 

 good. I speak not of singing bymnB now, and the 

 culture of harmony oncl musical purposes, though 

 these tend to God's praise, or to give innocent 

 amusement; but this gentle voice will he able to 

 guide and persuade to good the manly heart of a 

 faithful husband, will mitigate sorrow lessen trial 

 and epeak of hope and joy to her dearest friends 

 rerful and 





pleasing. Let ua then be careful in 

 cultivate thiB most valuable acquirement How 

 different, in all respect*, to a family, for friendBand 

 neighbors, aro the kind, gentle, persuasive accents 

 I have described, from sounds we sometimes (alas! 

 too often) hear in the cloae abodea of poverty and 

 trial— high, harsh, female treble tones of bitter im- 

 port, scolding and reproaching, and driving away 

 from the hearth and home (perhaps to sorrow and 

 to sin) the husband and the children. 



Newspapers form a large share of the reading 

 of the present day. They grace the public hall at 

 well as the private sitting-room, reminding us of 

 asocial friend that greets us everywhere, telling 

 ob the newp, spiced with mirth if we are merry, 

 and condolenceif weary sad. All find there some- 

 thing to amuse or instruct When 



then, seated by tho cheerful fire, with the last copy 

 of the Rural, or Tribune, the farmer lookB first at 

 the oolumn where he can ascertain the price of 

 wheat, and, as he leads that it ia falling, hia brow 

 lea a shade of care, for he fears that another 

 ao must remain debtor for hiB quiet cottage 

 home. But little Mart, his pride and pet whis- 

 pers gently, " Yon need get me no Christmas gifts, 

 father;" she haa noticed his sadness, and conjec- 

 tured the cause. Then, lovingly, he Btrokea her 

 hair, and wonders if there is another Mary like 

 his in the wide world. 



Grandma, too, wipes her spectacles, and takes 

 the paper to examine it. tor she wishes to know 

 what ships h<)ve arrived in port But she finds 

 not the came oi the long looked for vessel, and 

 igain she settles her glasses and sits by the fire, 

 seemingly watching the filial blaze. Is she think- 

 ing of the glowing embers? No. Tears fill her 



I eyei 





left his childhood's hotce-to^ek his furtui 

 tho rolling see. 'Twaaj! ':"ie ship that bori 

 over the proud water?, nut it never oame back 

 Still that aged mother thes not in looking for hii 



Now, Will, it may be, reads aloud concerning 

 the wars and turmoils in Kansas, and largely 

 patiates upon the bravery he would manifest w 

 he only there, forgetting the hasty retreat 

 makes if his light ia suddenly extinguished when 

 exploring some unknown nook in the ce 

 especially if we have been telling ghost atori 



At last we take Ihe papef, after politics and the 

 propriety of annexing New Zealand to the United 

 Spates have been discaBsed, to examine the list of 



DRE95 MAKES THE MAS, 



nth makes the 

 yon. If this w 



} by the way 



Don't tell me that i 



wby do we see true mci 



side, and honest worth kicked into the ditch, be- 

 cause, forsooth, Tin Tailor baa not expended his 

 skill upon their person?, and got a hundred or two 

 booked against them— to stay for a season? 



Worth makes the man — a pretty story truly!— 

 Then wby ia that worthy yoang mechanic— who 

 acquired a Baperior education while Berving as an 

 apprentice, and who now, from his small salary, 

 supports his widowed mother, and young brothers 

 and sisters— left to struggle on witboutaword 

 sympathy or encouragement, and literally looked 

 down npon with contempt? And Alios Drak 

 too, the sweet little dreas maker, who is better 

 educated, baa far more sense, and a nobler bouI, 

 than nine- tenths of her employers, and yet whath 

 she? Nothing bat a sewing girl, to be sure. 



No, I 



. \.U i. 



if bnl 



■ he u 



idea burdeni 

 latter if he d 



rof e 



r-c rested 

 lodge £ 



to escape the repeated 

 duns of merchant tailors and haberdashers. What 

 if his taper fingers coold not legibly trace his high- 

 sounding name— or what If they Bhonld happen to 

 slip into their neighbor's pocket, and get entang'ed 

 in his parse— so long as his kidB are of the newest 

 style, and his coat fits to a T, and is renewed every 

 month; while hia perfumed locks emit their de- 

 ightful odor, and bis mustache is of the exact 

 trim; while he can Bmile, and flatter, and talk 

 agreeable nonsense from dewy morn till evening's 

 sombre hour. Dress makes the man. We have 

 woman's testimony on our side— one-half of whom 

 would not deign to notice worth in hnmble garb, 

 but would spend any number of golden 

 to gain the smiles and flattery of that bi 

 bundle of hair, broadcloth and cigars, who 

 hia morning dram at Borne fashionable e 

 twirls hia cane, and bowa a la Parhan. M 

 dreas makes the man — the ladies say bi 

 body Baya so. Miss Prim added he; 

 when ehe discharged Puny Plane, with whose 

 virtucB ehe had been acquanted from childhood, 

 and married Leopold Lillyrribgb, the mnsiached 

 foreigner, after an evening's acquaintance; and 

 who absconded ere the honey-moon had waned, 

 ving her of money, and her jewels— his 

 bridal gift. 



! <:■ ■ i- • y 



TOO LATE. 



Thsbe is a certain class of person?, who, from 



the cradle to the grave, have bat one prominent 



characteristic, and that might be expreBsed in the 



rords— always too late. Unfortunaiely for 



theyaeem to have been born an boar or two 



behind time; and, do the beat they can, soratch, 



harry, and drive, they never do "catch up." It 



ters not what they propose to do or where they 



)ose to go, one thing is certain— they will 



ly be too late. Such people never 



> there 



an old Bchool-me 

 look sober, and s 

 happily," only we 

 moonlight rideB ■ 



Thou 



41, T hope he is mt 

 help remembering those 

 gaily-painted sled, when 

 we were children, and of the apple paring that, 

 after being swung over the head three times, al- 

 ways made such a capital B. Then wo notice a 

 marriage that is recorded with many flourishes 

 and muoh ado, the editor not forgetting to 

 tion having received a beautiful loaf of cake. 

 For a moment we are almost astonished. Can It 

 be our old friend and teacher, Mr. C— ? Why, < 

 did not suppose he knew there waa such a word 

 love in the language. Ab! yes, we do remember 

 in our para Ing lesson. 



e asked him if i 



npi'..|ie 



He II 





withalong drawn fcigh be answered "yes" E 

 he had not then learned to love the little gipsy 

 ft girl who Bat at the foot of the class, who n 

 ever making mistakes purposely. For she it n 

 who had taken possession bf his heart. Next < 

 notice the elevation of ono to the Presidential 

 Chair, whom con only remember as a fiaxen-h 

 boy at school, who was ever writing anonymous 

 love letters, as he called them, with bis name in 

 fall at the bottom of the aheet. I wonder if he 

 ever thinks of those delicate little missives, writ- 

 ten on sky-bine paper, perfumed with peppermint, 

 as he Is dispatching letters of vast import? Then 

 we glsnce at the record of deaths, hoping that we 

 may eee no familiar names, bnt " Mattie " stands 

 out before us. We hope, in our selfish love, it may 

 not be the Mattie we love, but it is Mattie Lee. 

 Then teara blind our eyes as we think of hearis 

 now made lonely, for she was the sunshine that 

 gladdened many a one. Yes, deep, indeed, would 

 be the anguish of the mother at the boor of eve, 

 when she was wont to bear her darling lisp, In 

 childish accents, love to our Father ia Heaven, 

 were it not that she knows Mattie has passed 

 through the pearly gates unto the Celestial City, 

 Bnd Is ever near the Savior with her golden harp. 





,imr,\ dun 



, Flora It- 

 of Italy, 



if a promise mado, long ago, I 

 r her grave. Surely I will reme, 

 and thee, too, mj gentle friend. 



sir hopes nnc.1 ex;;fd:.;i; 

 3 late. The booming c 

 drawn, and the huge at 



i is l 



i sounds, the plank 



MonBieur Too Late, bag 

 and baggage, reaches the wharf. The iron lungs of 

 the fierce old locomotive shriek out the sharp 

 whistle and the massive train goes leaping off just 

 as the poor unfortunate gets in sight The lum- 

 bering stage-coach ia climbing the bill a quarter 

 of a mile away, and his eager call fails to reach 

 the ear of the boisterous post-boy. The pious ex- 

 borter haa reached his "sixthly" beforeourfrlend 

 Tardy reaches the long drawn aides, and all he 

 hears is just enough to pronounce his doom— "the 

 harvest is past, the Bummer is ended, and y 

 not saved." Such a man can never succeed 

 late is the fata! curse which seals his life a mi 

 ble failure-, Had he been in time his life might 

 have been a destiny fraught with bletsing. Better 



better go too fast than too slow; better wait f 

 others than let others wait for you; better aay nc 

 than by-and-by; better wear out than rust oi 

 better pay your subscription in advance than n 

 all; better let your epitaph be too soon than t> 



}mmp. 



HERB AND HEREAFTER. 



THE GRAVE. 



The grave is a common theme. Our minds often 

 revert to it againat our wilL There is something 

 connected with the "narrow hoose" which leads 

 us into superstitious feelings from the contempla- 

 tion of which we instinctively shrink. Death ia a 

 subject upon which we try to avoid reflection. We 

 throw ourselves upon the gayeties of life by which 

 to rid ourselves of these thoughts. Whiie we are 

 reveling in this little whirlpool of mirth, the last 

 "great change" creeps silently upon us, and we 

 who have nhiled away an existence, 



" Sleep where all must sleep." 



There is something possessing the mind while 

 bending over the grave of a dear friend which is 

 melancholy, jet impressive. In memory, childhood 

 is brought before up. We dwell upon the dsya we 

 have spent in life's gTeen spring with the object 

 which now lies cold in death, Youth, with its joys 

 and its Borrows, comes flitting before the imagina- 



i feai 



if a friend is before us,— vi 





"lift', 



-Cha. 



>..*.. .1,;, 



PrjucTO-AxtTr.— Tola ia one of the moBt beauti- 

 ful traits in one'a character, and not only adds tc 

 a person's estimation in the minds of others, bnl 

 iseveraeonrcc of great advantage to the one pos- 

 sessing it Those unaccustomed to be punctual 

 and to perform their duties with prompt net 

 forever in the drag. By their tardiness a 

 commencement of the day, they are juat ao much 

 behind all during it; which, taken in connecti< 

 with the accumulation of losses from the force 

 the habit during the day, results, at the cloae of 

 in the loss of much precious time; and if oontl 

 ued through life, In the frustrating of many plans, 

 and the blighting of many fond hopes, and toofi 

 quently, ia a clog to the progress of mauy who a 

 dependent upon the exertions and instructions 

 thesB tardy ones, for meana end ubiiity and not 

 Bion to perform promptly the duties of life. It 

 particularly desirable and essentia! that the young 

 who are now forming habits for life, should cult! 

 vate Punctuality, as one of the noblest and most 

 promotive traits of character, and one of the first 

 amongthe graces whioh adorn a Bell-ordered life. 



rbftil any 



Success not Always Happiness. - 

 ee an old, weather beaten man, who ne 

 ucoess In bis life, who always knew 

 ceoroplinhed leas than his associates, who took 

 he qaortz and dirt of the enterprise, w: 



et, in i 



pier man — all his life long he 

 man! Uebaa a sum of hope, ai 

 aud greed; and amidst all this 

 these mysterious providei 



him np like the ol 

 the deluge that ga 





fever'' is over; we stand above his "lifeless clay," 

 and shed the tear of friendship that it may mingle 

 with his cold ashes. The friend with whom you 

 have wandered "o'er iife's bleak waste" lies low be- 

 neath the very spot whereyon are standing. Pause 

 and reflect Boy fleetjnu a I fe — 

 tiunsient Pile manhood chases the Ueeing phan- 

 tom of youth to the shades of old age, when earth 

 gathers them to her bosom, the car of time roll* 

 on in Its deep tumultuous tread, and they are lost 

 in oblivion. The changes of time, how marked! . 

 Where are the orators of Rome, whose eloquence 

 astonished the world? Cicbbo, Desiostbenes, Cj9- 

 bar? — the night winds whistle throngh the lonely 

 aisles where their bones repose. Where now are 

 e Patriots who fought in the American Revola- 

 m? Washington, Lafaykttb? — the battle cry 

 is died away — the weapons of war have been laid 

 ide— those that wielded them are powerless,— 

 the multitude of the past sleep in the grave. With 

 the contentions of life have ceased — no 

 earthly resentments work within the cold hearts 

 which no longer beat with animated life — with 

 death ceases every envious feeling. 



There la nothing which ao tends to humble the 

 prond spirit as the thought that the splendor of 

 earth must go down with us to the grave — there la 

 nothing which so blunts the sense of false pride as 

 the reflection that we are all destined to meet a 

 common end. The magnificence of earthly gran- 

 deur may follow the mighty of earth to the grave, 

 and there may be something in all this pomp and 

 splendor to lighten the remorse of the proud 

 spirit, — It may show a cold respect of the living 

 for the dead — bat it fails to remove one pang from 

 the heart of the trne mourner. When the turf 

 Bhall have covered the last remains, pride and 

 pomp are forgotten, the "last lingering remem- 

 brance" is revered, and the lowly form ia left to 

 moulder in the dust, 



la there not Bomething in these reflectiona which 

 Impresses one deeply with the thonght that earthly 

 honors are but frail? Bhonld wo not all bow in 

 reverential awe before the majesty of the grave, 

 where the poor of the earth "sleep as sweetly aa 

 the king and monarch?" Here is no distinction; 

 high sounding titles full from the possessor; earth- 

 ly grandeur sinks into the 

 vouring waves sweep ovi 



From the c 

 we shrink, for 

 [ability of ea 



iplation of these sad thoughts 

 impress one deeply of the mu- 

 icquirementa. We know not 

 s the alluring scenes of life. 



bntion. — An old divine, cautioning the 

 against engaging in violent controversy, 

 e following happy similes:— " If we will be 

 contending let us contend like tho olive and the 

 vine, who shall produce the moat and the beat 

 fruit; 





Flu 



t like the aspen and the elm, which shall 



in the wind." 





single coal, but If many 

 • long before it Is clean 

 not afford much shelter 



be laid togethi 



gone, A oingle 



veler, but be will rest beneath tho thick 

 jf the grove; bo will JeauBoften Bit longer 

 any of "the trees of the Lord" are planted. 



