MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY JOURNAL. 
EiistElliiin], 
I WASTE NOT A MOMENT. 
There is no time in any clime. 
That should he unemployed; 
An active mind will ever find 
There’s nothiiij? dull and void. 
All things (hat live, some charms will give. 
If sough* w'thoiil dfflayi 
J From year to year, 1 seem to hear 
> 'A'lic tunef ul voice of wirdom say, 
• Waste not a moment. 
The singing birds, in simple words. 
All ever tuneful IcRsnn tell. 
That indolence by no pretence. 
Can fill our earthly inisaion well. 
Go, waieli them world, they never lurk 
In indolence about; 
Throughout tlie day, you’ll find that they. 
While the liglitof day iioui. 
Waste not a moment! 
AUTUMN. 
“Then came tlio Antutnn till in yellow clatl, 
As thoiigli lie joyed in Iiis plenleoiis store— 
i^iden with fruits that niudo him laugh full glad 
That ho had h iiiislied liuiigcr.”—iiPENCKn. 
iVuTUMN, sober Autumn, has come acain, 
^ and though her honors, when hy poets 
“Crowned with tlio sickle and the wheaten sheaf,” 
have been usurped by our just departed 
Summer, yet still slic bringeth “plenteous 
store” for rejoicing. The farmer has reap¬ 
ed, or is now gathering, liis rielAeward for 
all his patient toil and trust: — of toil, “in 
Summer’s heat, and winter’s cold,” in rain 
and snow, in storm and shine—of trust, 
when he scatters his seed earthward, with 
a ready confidence in the promise that 
“ seed time and harvest” shall succeed encli 
other while the world endures. 
September, “ the dearest month of all 
to pensive minds,” luis many soft sweet 
days of (juictness — of mellowed sunshine 
and well tempered air, when, content with 
his lot, the laborer toils on with buoyant 
hopes of comfort for the winter of life, and 
of the year. He sees time find opportuni¬ 
ty yet given, as well as admonition bestow¬ 
ed to prepare for the darker days, so soon 
to follow — find, tluinkful for the bcnificence 
of our Heavenly Father, liis Autumn is 
one of thoughtful activity, in the works and 
ways of well-doing manliness. 
Soon will the forest assume its gorgeous 
array, and robe itself in beauty hut for u 
moment, and then, stripped of all its leafy 
honors, bear the winter of adversity un¬ 
friended and alone. So drop away our 
summer friends—so pass to other climes 
our summer birds — but let us learn, like 
them, to hoard up the warm life-blood of 
our affections, nor mourn the departure of 
those whom wc can live without, however 
mucli they may add to our honor or our 
happiness. When we need them, or when 
they need us rather, tliey will not long re¬ 
main behind. 
V/hat can he more beautiful — where, 
save in the clouds, which sometimes gather 
around the sun as he sinks to repose, can 
we find such tints as deck the Autumn 
woods? Each tree seems to assume a pe¬ 
culiar livery — the maple and oak flaunting 
in a crimson robe, while the ash and elm 
suddenly don a golden drapery. Oh, in 
forest, in field — for the heart and for the 
pocket —Autumn provides the richest stores 
of enjoyment, and happiest he who has a 
spirit to enjoy them till in their fullness of 
felicity. a. 
THE EXERCISE OF DILIGENCE. 
It is wonderful how much is done in a 
short space, provided wc sot about it prop¬ 
erly, and give our minds wholly to it Let 
every one devote himself to any art or sci¬ 
ence ever so strenuously, and he will still 
have leisure to make considerable progress 
in half a dozen other actpiirements. Leon¬ 
ardo de Vinci avjis a mathematician, a mu¬ 
sician, a poet, and an anatomist, besides 
being one of the greatest painters of his 
age. Michael Angelo was a prodigy of ver¬ 
satility of talent—a writer of sonnets (which 
Wordsworth thought worthy of translating) 
and the friend of Dante. Salvator was a 
lutenist and satirist, 'litian was an elegant 
letter writer, iuul a finished gentleman.— 
Sir Joshua Ueynoldft’ discourses are more 
classical and polished than any of his pic- 
• tures. Let a man do till he can in ayy one 
branch of study, he must either exhaust 
himself and a dozen over it, or vary his pur¬ 
suits, or else lit; idle. All our real labor 
lies in a nut-shell. The mind makes, at 
some period or other, one Herculean effort, 
ami the rest is mecluinical. We have to 
climb a steej) and narrow precipice at first; 
but after that the way is broad and easy, 
where we drive several accomplishments 
abreast Men should have one principal 
pursuit, which may both agreeably and ad¬ 
vantageously he diversified with lighter ones. 
— Ilazlitt. 
Foil age and want stive w.iat you may; 
no morning’s sun lasts the waole dtiy. 
THE SIAMESE TWiNS, 
Du. Waurkn, of Boston, lately communi¬ 
cated the following timong tlic other inter¬ 
esting particulars in regard to the ISiamese 
twins: 
“The connecting substance is very strong, 
and has no great sensibility; it can be se¬ 
verely handled without causing pain. No 
pulsating vessel can ht* felt in it. The 
slightest motion of one is immediately fol¬ 
lowed by the other in the same direction, so 
that the same wish seems to influence both; 
this is quite voluntary, or a habit formed by 
necessity. They always face in one direc¬ 
tion, standing nearly side by side, and can¬ 
not without inconvenience face in opposite 
directions. One is rather more intellectual 
than the other; the most intellectual being 
rather irritable, the other being extremely 
amiiible. 
The connection between these twins might 
aftord some very interesting observations in 
physiology, therapeutics, and pathology.— 
There is doubtless a connection by minute 
blood vessels, absorbents, and nervous fila¬ 
ments, which might transmit the action of 
medicines and the causes of disease. As 
far as known, any disposition of one extends 
to the other; they are inclined to sleep and 
cat at the same time, and in the same quan¬ 
tity, and perform in the same manner other 
similar acts. It is supposed that wlicn they 
sleep, touching one awakens both, but when 
awake, an impulse given to one does not af¬ 
fect the other. The slightest movement of 
one is so soon perceived by the other, 
that a careless observer might think they 
acted simultaneously. No part seems to 
luive a perception common to both, except 
the middle of the connecting substance, and 
its neighborhood; for when an impression is 
made at this part, it is felt hy botli, while 
beyond this space it is felt only by the one 
of the side to which it is applied. 
From the limited va.sculiir and nervous 
connection that can ho discovered, Dr. Wtir- 
ren supposes that the influence of medicine 
transmitted from one to the other, would he 
inconsiderable; and the sjime would apply 
to most diseases—for instance, a slight fever 
would not probably extend from one to the 
other, Avhilc diseases, communicuhle through 
the absorbents or capillaries (tis small pox,) 
would he readily transmitted. The beat¬ 
ings of both hearts coincide exactly, as also 
the pulses under ordinary circumstances; if 
one exerts himself without the other, liis 
pulse alone will be quickened, when the lat¬ 
ter is unchanged, d'hey breathe also ex¬ 
actly together. 
This harmony in corporeal functions would 
lead us to ask if there he a similtir harmony 
in the intellectual functions; if they are 
identically the same persons. There is no 
redson to suppose that their intellectual oper¬ 
ations are any more the some than they 
would he in any two persons, confined to¬ 
gether, educated under similar circum¬ 
stances, and with similar habits and tastes 
Then would come the question whether 
they could be scptiratcil with safety. Per- 
luqis such an ojieratiou would not bo neces¬ 
sarily fatal, but the peritonium hia}* be con¬ 
tinuous from one to the other and the 
opening of this great serious.cavity might 
be attended with dangerous symptoms.— 
Should one die before the other, it should 
he immediately performed, hut no surgeon 
would he justified in attempting sucli an 
operation to free them from a mere incon¬ 
venience ; which inconvenience, if wc may 
believe the reports of their domestic Jiffairs 
and flourishing condition in worldly goods, 
is after all of no very great importance. 
UNITY OF THE HUMAN RACE. 
IMPORTANT TESTIMONY. 
At a meeting of the French Academy of 
Sciences, recently, a report was read from 
a very able committee, on the Negro llace 
of EiLstern Africa, South of the Equator, 
: as closely and long observed by M. Frober- 
ville, a scientific traveler. 
Ho has brought with him sixty easts 
(busts) of types of three divisions of the 
negroes. The committee decide that the 
results of his researches serve materially, 
to prove the identity and common local ori- 
j gin of the whole human species. There 
[ are various aflinitios of conformation between 
the blacks of Etistern Africa. This report 
is of great importance, considering the 
source from which it comes, and the race to 
which it relate.s. It is evident that Prof 
Agassiz is very far from having yet deter¬ 
mined this question on scientilic grounds. 
Tlie result to which an able writer in a 
late number of the London Quarterly Re¬ 
view hiis come, is as follows: 
“ It hiis we think, been rendered on pure¬ 
ly scientific grounds, next to certain, that 
man is one in species—highly probable that 
all the varieties of this species are derived 
from one pair tind a single locality on the 
earth. There arc no difliculties attending 
these theories, so great .as those which other 
theories involve.” 
Hk that hath a trade hath an eshitc; and 
he that hath a calling hath a place of profit 
and honor. A plowman on his legs is hitdi- 
er than a gentleman on his knees. 
Hk that rises late, shall trot all day, and 
shall scarce overtake liis husiness at nitrht. 
One to-day is worth two to morrowa 
Iniiitjj’ llp|inrtiitnif. 
IMPORTANCE OF HOME DUTIES. 
Wkkk home more attractive, there would 
ho less tcmpUitions to seek amusements 
abroad; many a wife would see more of her 
husband, if attention were paid to these ap¬ 
parently small matter.s. A painful contrast 
is pcrliiips brought before his mind. Where¬ 
soever he goes it is all smooth and pleasing 
before him, even though some carele.ssness 
may lurk behind. If he return to an untidy 
house, his wife slatternly, his children dis¬ 
orderly, if a gay and thoughtless man, he 
will leave his own fireside for others more 
attractive—if a domestic and religious man, 
he will suffer in silence, and feel all his com¬ 
fort destroyed^; while afiections are trifled 
with in one case, and destroyed in the other. 
A cheerful countenance, a well regulated 
house, and pleasing manners, will make do¬ 
mestic life the happiest in the world. Were 
early education mtide more pi’actical, such 
women would he less rare tliau they are. 
If young ladies would use their accomplish¬ 
ments, their talents, and dress not for dis- 
pla\% but as a means of usefulness, their 
brothers would be more disposed to stay at 
home, and much innocent amusement would 
take the place of idle dissipation. If wc 
felt here as every wliere, “ thou God, seest 
nie ”—if wc remembered the account is to 
bo given to God, and not to men—we should 
be impressed that our accomplishments are 
not for display, hut as occupation in the ab¬ 
sence of that which belongs to the working 
classes; that a certain appearance in dress, 
and an attention to neatness, is a duty he- 
longing to our station, and that an agreeabfc 
manner is a talent given us to improve.— 
The Wily in which things are done, often 
materially lessen or incrciise their value.— 
Much unhappiness in families arises from 
the trifling way women have of passing their 
time, and of gratifying only their eyes and 
ears, instead of their reiison and understand¬ 
ing. The utmost of a woman’s character 
is contained in domestic life—first, by her 
piety towards God; and next, in tlie duties 
of a daughter, a wife, a mother, and a sis¬ 
ter,— I/ife of the Rev. Robert Anderson. 
__ ] 
IDLE DAIJGHTEES 
It is, says Mrs. Ellis, a most painful spec¬ 
tacle in families where the mother is the 
drudge, to see the daughters elegantly 
dressed, reclining at their case, with their 
drawing, their music, their fancy-work,,and 
their reading—beguiling themselves of the 
lapse of hours, days, and weeks, and never 
dreaming of tlieir responsibilities; but as a 
necessary consequence of a neglect of duty, 
growing weary of their useless lives, laying- 
hold of every newly-invented stimulant to 
rouse their drooping energies, and blamiin*- 
their fate, when they dare not blame their 
God, for having placed them where they are. 
These individuals will often tell you, with 
an air of affected compassion (for who can 
believe it really ?) that poor mamma is 
working herself to death; yet no sooner do 
you propose that they should assist her, than 
they declare she is quite in her element— 
in short, that she would never be happy if 
she had only half as much to do. 
Fair Hits. —Mrs. Frances 1). Gage, in a 
letter to the Ohio State Journal, gives her 
sex the following fair hits:—Ten years ago 
I made a journey to New England, accom¬ 
panied by my husband, and also hy my 
father-in-law, an old man of four-score years. 
I have often seen that old man offer his 
seat to some hale woman of half or less 
than half his age and seen her accept it, as 
if it were right, without even a ptissing no¬ 
tice of his gray hairs, or the riglit of years, 
that entitled him to her kindness and atten¬ 
tion. Once, and only once, a lady of queen¬ 
ly grace and beauty sprang from her scat 
iia wc entered and with a voice that was 
musical in its very tone, said, “ Father, take 
this arm chair.” How my heart sprang to 
meet her in angel goodness! Such has 
ever been our idea of a lady—which is sy¬ 
nonymous with a true woman. 
Mother. —How sweet the reflection in 
after years of a mother’s tender training.— 
It were well that to a motlicr this duty 
should be confided, if it only were for the 
delicious pleasure of musing on it after 
many long years of struggle with the cold 
rccilitics of life. Who is tficrc that finds no 
relief in recurring to the scenes of his in¬ 
fancy and youth, gilded with the recollec¬ 
tion of a mother’s tenderness! And how 
many have nobly owned that to the saluta¬ 
ry influence then exerted they must ascribe 
their future success, their avi*idance of evil 
when no eye w'as upon them, but when- 
rested on the heart, the warning’s, the pray¬ 
ers and tears of a mother. 
Daughters.— Tlierc is nothing more de¬ 
sirable in a daughter than intelligence join¬ 
ed to a gentle spirit The mind is fashion¬ 
ed and furnished in the main at school. But 
the character is derived chiefly from home. 
How inestimable is the confidence of that 
mother in producing kind feelings in the 
bosoms of her children, who never permits 
[ herself to speak to them in a loud voice, and 
in harsh, unkind tones. 
QUAKE R NEA TNESS. 
One advantage of tiie plain Quaker dress 
is that it renders neatness indispensable.— 
What is {lartly dust-colored already, be¬ 
comes intolerable after it has contracted any 
soil; and the nature of the soft neutral tints 
is such, that whatever is worn with them 
must be pure, or it is shown up inevitably. 
Lace may he yellow, and rich ribbons crum¬ 
pled with small oflence; hut a plain cap de¬ 
pends for its beauty up'ori snowy whiteness 
and a perfect accuracy and primness of out¬ 
line. “ The very garments of a Quaker,” 
says Charles Lamb, “seem incapable of re¬ 
ceiving a soil; and cleanliness in them to be 
sometliing more than the absence of its 
contrary. Every Quakeress is a lily; and 
when tliey come up in the bands to their 
j Whitsun conference, whitening the eastcr- 
I ly streets of the metropolis, they show like 
troops of the Shining Ones.” Every one 
is charmed with this dross in its perfection; 
wc never heard any one say it is not beau¬ 
tiful, at least on young women, whoso fresh 
faces do n')t need the relief of undulating 
; laces of rich colors. The primness of the 
j style, and the habitual or enforced placidity 
I of the countenances of those who use it, 
have given occasion for charges of affecta¬ 
tion or coquetry in the young sisters. But 
they may be consoled; for the imputation 
of trying to be charming is, in this case, on¬ 
ly a confession that they arc so.— 3frs. /Kirk¬ 
land, in Sarlahds Magazine. 
OUR TRUE SELF-INTEREST. 
Siiiiiiiui JltnMiig. 
j In all our actions are mingled influences 
supplied by the motives of self-interest.- 
We look at the pleasure and profit, and fig¬ 
ure up the percentage of each likely to ac¬ 
crue, or we calculate the chances of loss, to 
see whether the risk is worth our venturing. 
This we do in regard to immediate bene¬ 
fits. The momentary good—the present 
pleasure fills the eye — wc enjoy a sense of 
happiness sufficient for to-day, and we for¬ 
get that fragrant flowers often produce only 
poisonous or worthless fruits, nor heed the 
folly of looking at beauty alone, unmindful 
of the harvest which must result. Vet this 
satisfies that demand of self-interest which 
bids us enjoy the present, and make the 
most of the flying moments, careless for the 
unknown and uncertain future. 
But self-interest prompts many to more 
far-seeing conduct than this. Taught by 
the e.xamples of others, confirmed by their 
own experience, they find, in the prospect 
of wealth or honor, motives to induce them 
to lay carefully-considered plans for life, hy j 
self-denying toil, to prepare, as it w'cre, the 
soil by a course of fallow culture, for after 
years of productiveness. T’hey watch care¬ 
fully, and labor faithfully, that no foul weeds 
spring up to choke the harvest of their 
hopes, and count no suftering grievous 
which mu.st be endured in making progress 
in the upward and onward course which 
they have chosen as their pathway. And 
often all this labor and denial is rewarded. 
The interest which promjited the race for 
wealth and distinction is successful, and they 
may congratulate themselves that their la¬ 
bor has not been profitless, nor' their wis 
dom foolishness. 
Thus they may congratulate themselves, 
if they look only to mortal life—to this 
earthly existence. But lie who exercises a 
high and enlightened self-interest, places 
his aim far higher, looks infinitely farther, 
seeing his own soul as an immortal spirit, 
capable of happiness or misery—rof rising or 
sinking in the scale between the Deity and 
the demon, through an unending eternity. 
He sees in this life the only seed-time for 
that momentous harvest, and all the inter¬ 
ests which appeal to his better nature prompt 
him to use well the precious moments. 
Such a self-interest, enlightened and 
truthful, would furnish our best rule of ac¬ 
tion ; and wc should find a daily reward in 
the consciousness of the faithful perform¬ 
ance of life's duties; our deepest pleasures 
would spring from the truthful, earnest en¬ 
deavor to conform to the law divine. Could 
wo but feel that it is so, the thousand 
“shows of things,” with which we cheat our 
longings for happiness, would fail to move 
us, and we should look upon them as they 
are—empty, but gilded vanities. 
Oh, how forgetful we are! Now we are 
partially awake to our interests, but anon 
we forget all these, and see and think only 
of the present and perishing. We are 
thoughtless and forgetful now, but our ac¬ 
tions leave an imperishable record, and the 
time will come when the forgotten will 
burst upon us distinct as a peal of thunder, 
and the hidden flash out as if written with 
a pen of lightning upon the walls of the fir¬ 
mament— Literary American, j. h, b. 
Roijalton, N. Y., is.'iO. 
Home. —Is there a divinity, law, or med¬ 
ical student who does not iispire to a mitre, 
the woolsack, or a chair ? Is there a mer¬ 
cantile drudge who does aspire to he at the 
head of a firm ? These are partial hopes, 
to be obtained only by a few. Is there one 
man, however exalted, however humble, 
who does not Io5k forward to a home, a wife 
and children, as the goal of his endeavors, 
his toils and his cares ? This is a general 
hope, within the reach of all. Home, wife, 
children, are the talismunic words which 
have guided men to the noblest actions— 
to the greatest efforts of genius and exertion. 
JOSHUA’S MIRACLE. 
It has been supposed by some, that tlie 
motion of the earth upon its axis was for 
the time arrested. This, no doubt, would 
produce the effect intended (the lengthen¬ 
ing of tlic dtiy.) But it would—without an 
additional and otjually stupendous exertion 
of Almighty power—have produced other 
and very tremendous effects upon the whole 
earth. The natural consequence of such 
a sudden check to the earth’s motion would 
have been hy means of the atmosphere, to 
crush at once all animal and vegetable e.x- 
istence—to level with the ground the loftiest 
and most magnificent structures—and, in 
fact, to sweep the whole surface of the globe 
as with the besom of destruction. God 
might hiive prevented this. But while there 
is a mode of producing the effect which 
Joshua desired, which does not naturally in¬ 
volve such consequences, it may be best, in 
the present state of our knowledge, to sup¬ 
pose that it was so efl'ceted. It answers all 
the^ conditions of the tpiostion—while it re¬ 
mains a most stupendous cxlubition of the 
power of the Almighty, in that day when 
he “hearkened to the voice of a man”—to 
suppose that tlie light of the then setting 
sun was siqiernatunilly prolonged, through 
the operation of the same laws of refraction 
and reflection, hy which tlursun’s disk is or¬ 
dinarily seen above the horizon some time 
after he has really sunk below iL He who 
created the heavenly luminaries, and estab¬ 
lished the laws which transmit their light, 
could at this time so have altered the medi¬ 
um through which the sun’s rays passed, 
as to render it visible above the horizon long 
after it would, under ordinary circumstances, 
have disappeared. This, to the apprehen¬ 
sion of the Israelites, w’ould have had all 
the visible effect of staying the career of 
j the sun; and to ours, that of arresting the 
I earth’s revolution on its axis; and this is all 
that the picred text requires—all that Jos¬ 
hua required — all that we need require.— 
-Dr. /{itto. 
The other supposition, that the rotation 
of the earth was actually stopped, has been 
shown by Gaussen to he quite as plausible 
as this. The argument is substantially thus: 
Thirty seconds or half a minute, is ample 
time to stop a train of railroad cars, moving 
thirty miles an hour, without incommoding 
the passengers. It would be a gentle stop. 
Ihe rotation of the earth at the equator 
(\vhere it is fastest) is about thirty-two times 
this velocity. Let the time of stopping be 
proportioned—sixteen minutes, or even less; 
and everything would remain in place on 
tlio eai’tE 
Either supposition, however, calls for the 
interposition of miraculous power; and the 
power which was adequate to either course, 
was adequate to prevent all evil consequen¬ 
ces of an instantaneous arrest of the earth’s 
motion. And while it is not the usual course 
of the Almighty to expend, so far as we 
know, more power than is necessary to the 
result, he is also under no particular neces¬ 
sity of having his miracles made easy for 
him. 
THE LAW OF LOVE 
But the law of love to our neighbor, and 
iLs corresponding “ golden rule,” arc far in¬ 
deed from being restricted, jus to their ob¬ 
ject, to the poor and distressed among men. 
They tJacli us to fullfil our Christian duties 
towards the King upon his throne; towards 
“ magistrates sent by Him;” towards all who 
have a just authority over us; towards our 
et^uals and associtites; towards those who 
are placetl under our care, or are engaged 
in our service—in fact, through the whole 
train of our relations in life. Under the 
blessed influence of love, it is the office of 
justice, to “ render unto all their dues,” and 
to refrain from injuring any man in word, 
thought or deed; and it is tliat of charity, 
to impart to others as much happiness as it 
is in our power to bestow. Bitterness, 
wrath, envy, and destruction, must all dis¬ 
appear under the melting ray of the law of 
love; and in their place must spring up 
kindness, universal good will, tenderness of 
spirit, forhoarauce, the willing preference of 
others, aiid Christian courtesy. 
Divine love alone will render us good cit¬ 
izens of this evil world, and polish us into 
true gentlemen. “ Though I bestow all my 
goods to feed the poor, and though I give 
my body to be burned, and have not char¬ 
ity, (or love,) it profiteth me nothing.— 
Charity suffereth long and is kind; charity 
vaunteth not itself; is not puffed up; doth 
not behave itself unseemly; seeketh not her 
own; is not easily provoked; thinketh no 
evil; rcjoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth 
in the truth; beareth all things; believeth 
all things; hopeth all things; endureth all 
things.And now abideth faith, hope, 
duu-ity, those three; but the greatest of 
these is uhaiutv.— J. J. Qurney. 
We do not Observe.— If the stars were 
to appear but one night in a thousand years, 
how would men believe and preserve for 
many generations the remembrance of God 
which had been shown! But every night 
come Out these preachers of beauty, and 
light the universe with their admonishing 
smile. 
