MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY JOURNAL. 
(BbucatlDnal 
BY L, WETIIERELL. 
WINTER SCHOOLS. 
There is a large number of boys and 
young men in the Northern and Middle 
States, that labor during eight or nine months 
in {he year, at home with their parents or 
abroad for wages, that devote the remain¬ 
der of the year to the acquisition of knowl¬ 
edge. Many of these attend the common 
school, others the academy. In order to 
accommodate such as attend the common 
schools, these are usually begun some time 
during the month of November or the first 
of December, and continue three or four 
months—sometimes longer, but more fre¬ 
quently for a less time even than three 
months. 
It was customary in the State where we 
received our early education for the winter 
school to begin the first Monday of Decem¬ 
ber, which was generally the first Monday 
after public Thanksgiving, as the latter al¬ 
most always occurred on the last Thursday 
of November. The school varied in length 
from ten to thirteen weeks, according to the 
wages paid to the master. The summer 
school was usually about the same length, 
and began the first Monday in June, which 
was, at the period referred to, Monday after 
election, which was the last Wednesday in 
May, Election day and Thanksgiving day 
were regarded by the children, girls as well 
as boys, holidays. 
Notwithstanding these short schools, the 
town where we were educated was fa¬ 
mous for the large number of school teachers 
that it furnished annually for many years. 
It was a farming town and the boys were 
required to quit the summer school as soon 
as they could ride horse to plow, and spread 
hay—thus leaving for them annually about 
twelve weeks of winter school as it was 
called. 
With such opportunities for acquiring 
knowledge, multitudes of young men in 
New-England have qualified themselves not 
only for schoolmasters, but for the most re¬ 
sponsible State offices. Many such have 
made their influence felt in the legislative 
concils of this State, and of the Nation. 
Let the boys who read the Rural take 
courage. What if you be required to labor 
nme months out of the twelve and have only 
three left to goto school? Your advant¬ 
ages are fully e(][ual to what his were who 
pens this article for your encouragement, 
when at your age. Suppose you have but 
three months to attend school annually from 
the time you were eight, until you are 18. 
This is more than John Fitch, the inventor 
of the first steamboat, enjoyed—it is more 
time than Franklin or W asihnoton enjoyed- 
Be not discouraged, then, because your 
opportunities for attending school are limit¬ 
ed—because it not unfrequently happens 
that a man’s knowledge is in the inverse ra¬ 
tio to the time he has spent in school when 
aboy—not that we would have you despise 
opportunity for attending school, but that 
we would not have you discouraged because 
you can spend but little time within the 
walls of the school-room. If you are deter¬ 
mined to have knowledge, a world in arms 
can scarcely prevent you from getting it— 
if otherwise inclined, that is, if you hate 
kflowledge, opportunity is of little worth, for 
it is like seed sown by the way side. 
We would say to our young friends, then^ 
as the period for commencing the winter 
schools has again come, be prepared to en¬ 
ter the first day, armed and equipped as the 
law of the good schoolmaster requires. Do 
not neglect to procure as aids, such books as 
your teacher deems necessary. You who 
are farmer’s sons might as w^ell go into the 
com field or the hay-field without tools, and 
expect to do a day’s work, as to go to school 
without suitable books and expect to acquire 
knowledge. It is true, a boy can pull up 
weeds in the corn field without a hoe, yet 
all will admit that, if he have a hoe and dis¬ 
position to use it, lie will destroy many more 
than he could without it; — and, yet 
notwithstanding this plain fact, many a pa¬ 
rent has refused to furnish his boy with such 
books as he absolutely needs, because they 
would cost a few shillings. When your pa¬ 
rents refuse to furnish you, boys, with such 
books as you need and really desire, do as 
John Fitch did—plant a potato-patch, even 
if you have to devote to it your holiday as 
he did, and then exchange the produce for 
books, which will be to you in the school¬ 
room what the hoe is in weeding corn.— 
Thus by the permission of your parents and 
your own enterprise you secure, or may do 
so, what is indispensable to the learner who 
would make progress in the ways of knowl¬ 
edge. 
“Hope springs eternal in the human 
mind;” therefore, if every effort you make 
during your minority be thwarted from 
seeming necessity—remember there is “ a 
good time coming;” and if, like Eli Whit¬ 
ney, the inventor of the cotton gin, you do 
not enter college until you are 23 years of 
age, you may, like him, enjoy the blessings 
of a liberal education; or if, like Franklin 
and Washington, you never have what is 
called a “ liberal education,” you may, like 
them, possess what it often fails to give—a 
good knowledge of men and things. 
NEW PUBLICATIONS. 
Adams’s Primary Arithmetic. —Being 
an Introduction to the Revised Edition of 
Adams’s New Arithmetic, designed for be¬ 
ginners in the study of the art of using 
numbers. 
Adams’.s New Akithmetic —Revised Edition.— 
In which the Principles of operating by numbers 
arc Analytically explained and Synthetically Ap¬ 
plied—Illustrated by copious examples. Design¬ 
ed for the use of Schools Jiiul Academies. By 
Daniel Adams, M. D., Author of the Scholar’s 
Arithmetic, School Geography, etc. 
The Scholar’s Arithmetic, the authors 
first work on the science, was published in 
1801, the first year of the 19th Century.— 
The work was very favorably received.— 
“ Adams’s New Arithmetic” was published 
in 182V. The present, the Revised Edition, 
was first published in 1848. According to 
the Regents’ last Report, Adams’s Arith¬ 
metic is used in about one half of the 
Academies of this State. 
Adams’s Mensuration. —Mensuration, Mechanical 
Powers and Machinery—A Sequel to the Revised 
Edition of Adams’s New Arithmetic. Designed 
for the use of Schools and Academics. 
In this work the Principles of Mensura¬ 
tion are analytically and practically applied 
to the measurement of Lines, Superficies 
and Solids; also, a philosophical explana¬ 
tion of the simple mechanical powers and 
their application to machinery. 
Ada ms’s Book-Keeping. —Containing a Lucid ex¬ 
planation of the Common Method of Book-Keep¬ 
ing by Single Entry. 
The author presents this as a new', con¬ 
cise and common-sense method of book¬ 
keeping for farmers, mechanics, rctmlers and 
professional men. It contains methods of 
keeping books by figures—short methods 
that may be used in a limited business— 
exercises for learners—and various forms, 
used in the transaction of commercial busi¬ 
ness—accompanied with blank-books for 
the use of learners. 
This series of books is published by J. 
W. Prentiss & Co., Keene, N. II. 
Dr. Adams was assisted in the revision 
of the “ New Arithmetic” by Mr. J. II. 
French and Mr. W. B. Bunnell, teachers 
in Western New York. Why did not the 
Doctor and his assistants use the point or 
dot (.) instead of the inverted comma (‘) 
as a decimal point or separatrix ? Instead 
of w'riting three dollars and seventy-five 
cents thus S'VS as Adams does, it should be 
written thus 3.75. This is in accordance 
with the best and almost universal English 
and American usage of writing decimals.— 
This latter and correct method is used by 
Dr. A. in his work on book-keeping. With 
this qualification we commend this excellent 
series of books to teachers and friends of 
education. 
Time oe the Morning Song of Birds— 
From Actual Observation.—Vrohably one 
of the most curious examples of the appa¬ 
rently trifling pursuits of scientific men has 
been exhibited by one of the most esteem¬ 
ed members of the Academy of Sciences 
of Paris, M. Dareau de la Malle. He was 
anxious to ascertain at what hour difl'erent 
birds began their morning song; he there¬ 
fore, from the first of May to the 6th of 
July, made observations, w'hich he regular¬ 
ly })ublishcd. It appears that for 30 years 
this vigilant naturalist went to bed at 7 
o’clock in the evening and rose at midnight, 
during Spring and Summer, and'that this 
eccentric liabit w'as for scientific purposes. 
It seems that the concert is opened, about 1 
o’clock, by the chaffinch, and that the spar¬ 
row is the laziest bird, not leaving his nest 
until 6 o’clock. In the intermediate hour.s, 
at marked intervals, which M. de la Malle 
has carefully noted down, other birds com¬ 
mence their natural melody. He has shown 
on more than one occasion, that the difler- 
ent birds have mistaken artificial light for 
the dawning of day, and that a solar lamp 
has awakened the little choristers. 
If thou wilt be .cured of thy ignorance 
confess it. 
LabiM’ lf|iartranrt. 
WOMAN. 
Warrior* and statcBmen have their meed of praise. 
And what they do and suffer men record ; 
But the long sacrifice of woman’s days 
Passes without a thought, without a word ; 
And many a holy struggle for the sake 
Of duties sternly, faithfully fulfilled— 
For which the anxious mind must watch and wake. 
Arid the strong feelings of the heart be stilled 
Goes by unheeded as the summer wind. 
And leaves the memory with no trace behind ! 
HEALTH AND BEAUTY OF AMERICAN 
LADIES. 
Mr. Downing, in his late visit to Europe 
was struck, as all our countrymen are,, by 
the contrast in the signs of physical health, 
and all that constitutes the outward aspect 
of our people with those whom ho met 
abroad. Since his return, he has been into 
the interior of this State, looking, among 
other things, for “ good, hearty, fresh look¬ 
ing lads and lasses among the farmer’s sons 
and daughters.” In relation to the latter 
he remarks: 
“ But the daughters of the farmers—they 
are as delicate and pale as lilies of the val¬ 
ley, or fine ladies of the Fifth Avenue. If 
one catches a glimpse of a rose in their 
cheeks, it is the pale rose of the hot-house, 
and not the fresh glow of the garden dam¬ 
ask. Alas, we soon discover the reason.— 
They live for seven months of the year in 
unventilated rooms, heated b}’' close stoves! 
The fire-places are closed up, and ruddy 
complexions have vanished with them. Oc¬ 
casionally, indeed, one meets with an ex¬ 
ception; some bright eyed, young, rustic 
Hebe, whose rosy cheeks and round, elastic 
figure would make you believe that the 
world has not all grown “ delicate;” and if 
you inquire, you will learn probably that she 
is one of those whose natural spirits force 
them out continually in the open air, so that 
she has as yet in that way escaped any con¬ 
siderable doses of the national poison. 
Now that we are fairly afloat on this dan¬ 
gerous sea, we must unburthen our heart 
sufficiently to say that neither in England 
nor France does one meet with so much 
beauty—certainly not, so far as charming 
eyes and expressive faces go towards con¬ 
stituting beauty—as in America. But alas, 
on the other hand, as compared with the 
elastic figures and healthful frames abroad, 
American beauty is as evanescent as a dis¬ 
solving view, contrasted with a real and liv¬ 
ing landscape. What is with us a sweet 
dream, from 16 to 25, is there a permanent 
reality till 45 or 50. 
We should think it miglit be a matter of 
climate, were it not that we saw, as the most 
common thing, even finer complexions in 
France—yes, in the lieart of Paris, and 
especially among the peasantry, who are 
almost wholly in the open air — than in 
England. 
And what, tlien, is the mystery of fine 
physical health, which is so much better un¬ 
derstood in the old world than the new ? 
The first transatlantic secret of health, is 
a much longer time psissed daily in the open 
air by all classes of people; the second, the 
better modes of heating and ventilating the 
rooms in which they live. 
Regular daily exercise in the open air, 
both as a duty and a pleasure, is something 
looked upon in a very difl’erent light on the 
two difl’erent sides of the Atlantic. On this 
side of the watei-, if a person—say a profes¬ 
sional man, or a merchant—is seen regular¬ 
ly devoting a certain portion of the day to 
exercise, and the preservation of his bodily 
powers, he is looked upon as a valetudina¬ 
rian,—an invalid, who is obliged to take care 
of himself, poor soul! and his friends daily 
meet him with sympathising looks, hoping 
he “ feels better,” etc. As for ladies, un¬ 
less there is some object in taking a walk, 
they look upon it as the most stupid and un¬ 
meaning thing in the world. 
On the other side of the water, a person 
who should neglect the pleasure of breath¬ 
ing the free air for a couple of hours daily 
or should shun the duty of exercise, is sus¬ 
pected of slight lunacy; and ladies who 
should iirefer continually to devote their lei¬ 
sure to the solace of luxurious cushions, 
rather than an exhilarating ride or walk, are 
thought a little tite montee. Wliat, in short, 
is looked upon as a virtue there, is only re¬ 
garded as a matter of fancy here. Hence, 
an American generally shivers, in an air that 
is only grateful and bracing to an English¬ 
man, and looks blue, in Paris, in weather 
when the Parisians sit with the casement 
windows of their saloons wide open. Yet 
it is, undoubtedly, all a matter of habit; and 
we Yankees, (vve mean those of us not forc¬ 
ed to “ rough it,”) with the toughest natu¬ 
ral constitutions in the world, nurse our¬ 
selves, as a people, into the le;ist robust and 
most susceptible physiques in existence.” 
I’lie “ second secret” referred to above 
is given in another column, under the head 
of “ The Favorite Poison of America.” 
A REALLY high-bred man, can never di¬ 
vest himself of a courteous manner when 
conversing with a woman. 
MIDNIGHT. 
’Tis Midnight ;—a holy calm broods o’er 
the face of nature. Hearts that, through 
the live long day, have beat with wild, tu¬ 
multuous feelings, are hushed and still.— 
Eyes that have watched, and worked be¬ 
neath their aching lids, are closed in sleep 
—and misery, with its meagre train, finds 
sweet repose in this still hour. The Au¬ 
tumn winds, that a few hours ago burst 
with their giant might on all around, are 
moaning now, through tall, old trees, like 
softest notes of an Eolian harp. The warb¬ 
lers of the grove, have hushed their lay 
and sank to sleep, rocked by the breeze 
that sighs around their leafy home. I Ipvfe 
this hour; it seems as if a spirit whispered 
on each passing gale—spoke from each 
shrub, and flower, and flitted on each fleecy 
cloud. And now, yon misty curtains drop 
away, and in their stead the silvery moon 
comes smiling up, sending its rays in every 
dell and nook—clothing each dusky shadow 
in robes of light, and casting a thousand 
crystals on the dew around. 
Lovely this hour, the veriest child of sin 
methinks, could here forget his life of crime 
and bow submissive to a higher power— 
longing to turn back to his sinless youth, and 
live it o’er—to forsake his erring course, and 
be a man again. Child of misfortune—ye 
whom'the world looks coldly on—seek you 
this hour, and, gazing on the calm blue sky 
above, forget the cares of life, and muse of 
Heaven, and when the breast is aching, 
when cold and bitter words have crushed 
the fondest hopes, look upward there—a 
balm ’twill surely give to heal the bitterest 
wound. R. M. A. I 
Irondequoit, N. Y., 1850. 
AN ARGUMENT FOR : MARRIAGE. 
Powers, the sculptor, writing to a friend 
of what people call the folly of marrying 
without the means to support a family, ex¬ 
presses frankly his own fears when he found 
himself in this very position; but he adds, 
with characteristic candor:—“To tell the 
truth, however, family and poverty have 
done more to support me than I have to 
support them. They have compelled me 
to make exertions that I hardly thought | 
myself capable of; and often, when on the 
eve of despairing, they have forced mo, like 
a coward in a corner, to fight like a hero, i 
not for myself, but for my wife and little 
ones. I have now as much work to do os 
I can execute, unless I can find some as¬ 
sistance in the marble, and I have a pros¬ 
pect of further commissions.” 
The truth here expressed by the gifted 
sculptor is like a similar remark we heard 
not long since, by a gentleman from Bos¬ 
ton, who tried matrimony in the same way, 
and found afterwards that the loose change 
in his pocket, which he had before squan¬ 
dered in “ foolish notions ”—young men’s 
whims, as he called them—was enough to 
support a wife, who, by well regulated econ¬ 
omy, has proved a fortune in herself, and 
had saved a snug sum of money for her 
once careless husband. “ A wife, to direct 
a man towards a proper ambition, and to a 
general economy,” he said, “ was like time¬ 
ly succor at sea, to save him from destruc¬ 
tion on a perilous voyage.” 
A Wife Wanted. —A gentleman adver¬ 
tises in the Cincinnati Commercial for a 
wife answering the following description: 
1st. She must be American born, and not 
under 25 nor over 40 years of age. 2d. 
She must possess good common sense, to¬ 
gether with a well cultivated mind. 3d. She 
must be neat, genteel, sociable, kind and af¬ 
fectionate. 4th. She must be a devoted 
Christian. The advertiser appeals to any 
lady answering the above description to 
manifest her heroism and generosity, by re¬ 
sponding to his call. He closes his card by 
saying: “ Fear not to reply, a faint heart 
never won a fair lover.” 
“A fair lover!” Modest man, that. 
The "Yalue of a Womam.— Mr. Brown, 
the American Dragoman at Constantinople, 
who is now accompanying the Turkish En¬ 
voy through the United States, says that 
the female Circassian slave markets contin¬ 
ue in full blast at Constantinople. Mr. B. 
aflirms that the prices range from $600 to 
$10,000, according to their age and per¬ 
sonal charms, and that the slaves are sold in 
what is called the Circiissian quarter of the 
city. 
Veils. —A celebrated writer on sight, 
says that wearing veils permanently, w'eak- 
ens many naturally good eyes, on account 
of the endeavor of the eye to adjust itself 
to the ceaseless vibration of that too com¬ 
mon article of dress. Ladies, then, should 
beware of hiding their pretty eyes and faces 
with veils. 
We are all apt to appreciate ourselves at 
the value set upon us by those who love 
us most. 
luribai] JlwMiig. 
Written for the Rural New-Yorker. 
IS THERE A GOD? 
Ask the mighty orbs that wheel through 
profound space, who moulded them in shape 
and gave them their being? Ask them 
whence came the unerring regularity of 
their motions? Ask the stars twinkling 
through the night? Let thought rise be¬ 
yond the vision and search for that Chance 
said to have given being to the illimitable 
number of starry worlds! 
Is there a God ? Ask the beam of light 
rushing silently along its course, bearing 
life and vigor to all things animate, whence 
came its mission? Ask the forked light¬ 
ning as it leaps athwart the sky, who gave 
it power ? Ask the cloud floating in mid 
air who receives its homage? Ask the 
wind if Chance decreed that it should hold 
the breath of life ? 
Is there a God ? Ask the briny sea with 
all its living things, who decreed its econo¬ 
my in the structure of the Earth; and ask 
the Earth why its course around the Sun; 
and the moon, why it should revolve around 
the Earth ? Ask the seasons in their turn 
why they do come and go ? Ask the day 
and night the reason of 4heir alternations ? 
Ask the bird on its airy flight, if Chance so 
formed him? Ask of each beast if from 
Nothing his bones, and flesh, and blood and 
all his wondrous powers had being ? Ask 
the frozen earth who gave to its embrace 
those myriads of tender germs ? . Ask it if 
beauty shall again bloom around, and by 
whose Omnipotence ? 
Is there a God ? Ask the human frame 
with all its muscles and sinews ?—ask its 
matchless w'orkmansliip, its unerring mech¬ 
anism if Chance wrought there its wonders ? 
Go farther. Ask the heart, from whence its 
motive power? Ask the rushing blood? 
Ask the Will throned as a monarch o’er it 
all ? Ask the Conqueror, Death, who sun¬ 
ders all ? Ask the soul freed from its mor¬ 
tal coils ? 
Is there a God ? Let not the vain heart 
cavil with Reason and Judgment, for the 
immutable truths of Nature point no less to 
a God over all than the declarations of His 
Word. i. e. w. 
GETHSEMANE. 
Lieut. Lynch, of the United States Ex¬ 
ploring Expedition to the River Jordan and 
the Red Sea in 1848, visited the Garden of 
Gethsemane about the middle of May. He 
says:— 
“ The -clover upon the ground was in 
bloom and altogether, the garden, in its as¬ 
pects and associations, was better calculated 
than any place I know to soothe a troubled 
spirit. Jllight venerable trees, isolated from 
the smaller and less imposing ones which 
skirt the pass of the Mount of Olives, form 
a consecrated grove. High above on either 
hand towers a lofty mountain, with the deep 
yawning chasm of Jehosapliat between them. 
Crowning one of them is Jerusalem, a liv¬ 
ing city—on the slope of the other is the 
great Jewish Cemetery, a city of the dead. 
Each tree in this grove, cankered and 
gnarled and furrowed by age, yet beautiful 
and impressive in its decay, is a living mon¬ 
ument of the affecting scenes that have 
taken place beneath and around it. The 
olive perpetuates itself, and from the root of 
the dying parentstem, theyoung tree sprL^ 
into existence. These are accounted^®5 
thousand years old. Under those of the 
preceding growth, therefore, the Saviour 
was wont to rest; and one of the present 
may mark the very spot where He knelt and 
prayed and wept 
No caviling doubt can find entrance here. 
The geographical boundaries are too dis¬ 
tinct and clear for an instant’s hesitation,— 
Here the Christian, forgetful of the present, 
and absorbed in the past, can resign himself 
to sad yet soothing meditation. The few 
purple and crimson flowers, growing about 
the roots of the trees, will give liim ample 
food for contemplation, 101 * they tell of the 
suffering and ensanguined death of the Re¬ 
deemer.” 
Insensibility to Daily Mercies.— As 
the Dead sea drinks in the river Jordan, and 
is never the sweeter, and the ocean all oth¬ 
er rivers and is never the fresher, so we are 
apt to receive daily mercies from God, and 
still remain insensible of them, unthankful 
for them. 
Life, in every shape, should be precious 
to us, fur the same reason that the Turks 
carefully collect every scrap of paper that 
comes in their way, because the name of 
God may be written thereon,— Richter. 
The first acts of sin may disturb, but long 
habits of wickedness sear the conscience.— 
Beware of what are called little sins. 
