APRIL 5. 
MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY NEWSPAPER. 
RiatflT. 
For Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
THE OLD SCHOOL HOUSE. 
The press bears record of numerous instances 
of the “ Old School House” immortalized in 
print, but they are not ours. No, there was no 
stately maple, graceful elm, nor majestic oak 
into whose branches we children could climb and 
fall, or lounge beneath their grateful shade; 
neither did it stand on a knoll, gently sloping 
toward the edge of some pearly rivulet, that, 
gliding along its pebbly channel, went mur¬ 
muring joyously on its way; though, just far 
enough to be beyond the sound of the sharp 
tat-tat-tat of the “ master’s rule” on the jam of 
the entry door, as he beat the signal for the 
“young ideas” to return to their lessons. 
There was a pond where the boys used to 
slide, and, forgetful of the oft-repeated com¬ 
mand to “ come in when rapped for,” we delay¬ 
ed till the girls went in, when, biting our nails 
with bowed heads, we cautiously entered the 
room, and in obedience to the order, formed a 
line before the stern judge. In a musical tone 
of the lowest key, “ ben slidin’ on the pond, 
sir, was the unanimous reply to the inquiry" 
where have you been ? Then came the stern 
sentence, “give me your hand.” Steadily, surely, 
like the vibrating of a pendulum rose and fell 
the heavy cherry ferule, fully verifying the defi¬ 
nition of Webster, “a wooden clapper.” One, 
two, three, four, “give me your other hand, sir,” 
one, two, three, four times again descended the 
instrument of torture. Involuntarily we open 
our palms at the remembrance, even, though 
the flight of years has obliterated all visible 
evidence ; yet, a tingle oozes from our fingers’ 
ends, that assures us our memory has not proved 
treacherous. 
Back from the business streets, that the at¬ 
tention of the pupils should not be drawn from 
their studies, to scenes transpiring without; 
cold, stiff, and formal, as a Connecticut dame of 
a Sunday—surrounded by a fence equally prim. 
Solitary in its grandeur, stood the o^l school 
house, where our wandering infant mind and 
lisping tongue was first taught to form letters 
into syllables—syllables into words, and words 
into sentences, and step by step attained the 
elevation to a place in the third, second, and 
final eminence of first class. Here, too, were 
we first initiated into the mystery of construct¬ 
ing the “ pot-hooks.and trammels,” the primary 
step in the, now sadly neglected, beautiful art 
of chirography. And then, with what careful 
step and innocent phiz, did we approach the 
teacher with “ please mend my pen.” Ah! 
anything, even mischief, though many stripes 
rewarded the venture, to relieve the tiresome ! 
monotony of the hard-seated school room. 
We are a man now, in the eyes of the world, 
and have shared the duties and cares, lawful 
inheritance of such station, and some of its 
honors, too, have been awarded ; yet, in all of 
the positions which our changing fortune has 
placed us, not one has brought that feeling of 
proud superiority felt, when we had, for the 
first time, in school-boy parlance, “spelt the 
school down.” What pleasing emotions of pride 
swell the breast of the scarred warrior, when 
the din of deadly strife becomes hushed, and 
from stentorian lungs the shout is sent, and 
borne on the wings of the wind, till hill and vale 
echo back the olad cry of victory! With what 
joyous pride did Hieuo shout Eureka! when 
his weary search was at last rewarded. But 
we question, if either warrior or philosopher, 
experienced that full inflation of pompous pride, 
that we felt, when acknowledged victor at the 
evening spelling school. 
Ah, pleasing associations cluster around those 
“ scenes of childhood” so fondly cherished in 
memory ; yet, like all the bright, the beautiful 
dreams of mortals, a shade of sorrow, a tinge of 
sadness steals over the dim memories of other 
days. Those that were master and pupil then, 
where are they ? Rank grass waves over the 
graves in the same church-yard. Others are 
out on the broad battle-field of life, nobly toil¬ 
ing amid the conflict of its stern duties, earn¬ 
estly struggling in the strife of distinction. 
There was a full complement of Daniels, 
Davids, Williams, and Johns, of Sarahs, Marys, 
Harriets, and Annas ; an occasional Jacob, Ju¬ 
lius, and Reuben, and Isabel, Emelie, and 
Therese —ah, Therkse ! In the solumn hush 
of the midnight watch—fit hour for communion 
with those “ gone before”—there comes a voice 
from the shadowy past and holds sweet con¬ 
verse with our secret heart! The bright sun¬ 
beam faded, and o’er its place, the dark wing of 
the spoiler casts a gloomy shadow. All that 
heart-wrung affection could suggest, the anxious 
efforts of loving friends, the thrilling wail of 
supplication from the agonized mother—“ Fa¬ 
ther of Mercies, if it be thy will, let this bitter 
cup pass from me”—had no power to save.— 
Too sure, the aim of the insatiate archer. Swift¬ 
ly sped the fatal shaft, and earth has had one 
sinless being less—Heaven one angel more. 
Knowledge does not comprise all which is 
contained in the large term of education. The 
feelings are to be disciplined, the passions are 
to be restrained, true and worthy motives are to 
be inspired, a profound religious feeling is to be 
instilled, and pure morality is to be inculcated 
under all circumstances.— Webster. 
Reading. —In reading, one man will read a 
Liturgy so as to send a congregation to sleep ; 
another will offer the same, and thrill a congre¬ 
gation with emotion ; one man reads Shakes¬ 
peare so that we run out of the room ; another 
makes us tremble and weep. 
HARD STUDY. 
Hard study hurts nobody, but hard eating 
does. It is a very common thing to attribute 
the premature disability or death of students 
and eminent men to too close application to 
their studies. It has now become to be a gen¬ 
erally admitted truth, that “ hard study,” as it 
is called, endangers life. It is a mischievous 
error that severe mental application undermines 
health. Unthinking people will dismiss this 
with the exclamation of “ that’s all stuff,” or 
something equally conclusive. To those who 
search after truth in the love of it, we wish to 
offer some suggestions. 
Many German scholars have studied for a 
life-time for sixteen hours out of the twenty- 
four, and a very large number from twelve to 
fifteen hours, lived in comparative health, and 
died beyond the sixties. 
One of the most sterling of living minds, 
Prof. Silliman, the elder, the past winter trav¬ 
eled through the country, at the age of nearly 
eighty years, and good health, delivering.geo- 
logical lectures, living mentally on the hard 
food of rocks, iron, iridium, and the like.— 
Another strong example of the truth that health 
and hard study are not incompatible, is found 
in the great Missourian, Thomas H. Benton, 
now past the three-score and ten, and in the 
enjoyment of vigorous health; a more severe 
student than he has been, and is now, the 
American public does not know. Dr. Charles 
Caldwell, our honored preceptor, lived beyond 
the eighties, with high bodily health, remarka¬ 
ble physical vigor, and mental force scarcely 
abated; yet for a great part of his life he studied 
fifteen hours out of the twenty-four, and at one 
time gave but five hours to sleep. John Quincy 
Adams, the old man eloquent, is another equal¬ 
ly strong example of our position. All these 
men, with the venerable Dr. Nott, now more 
than eighty years old, made the preservation of 
health a scientific study, and by systematic 
temperance, neither blind nor spasmodic, se¬ 
cured the prize for -which they labored, and 
with it years, usefulness and honor. For the 
present, we content ourselves with the enuncia¬ 
tion of the gist of this article. Students and 
professional men are not so much injured by 
hard study as by hard eating ; nor is severe 
study for a life-time, of itself incompatible with 
mental and bodily vigor to the full age of three¬ 
score years and ten.— Hall's Journal of Health. 
INTERESTING SCHOLARS —STUDIES. 
Be interested yourself. Would you have 
your pupils wide awake and earnest,' be alive 
yourself. If they are inert, quicken them with 
your vitality. A child’s nature is sympathetic. 
He cannot long be dull and sluggish if life, en- 
ergy, and rapidity characterize your own mo¬ 
tions. Your electricity will be communicated 
to him. He will work if you will work with 
him, harder than you require him to work.— 
The more inert he is, the more active you must 
be. It is useless for you to sit in your easy 
chair and command attention. It is of no use 
to lecture him on the importance of being inte¬ 
rested in his studies. If your scholars lack 
energy and activity of thought, do not sit before 
them ; the only way to secure it, is by physical 
and mental activity on your part, which they 
cannot escape from, but which hurries them on 
by the very, force of its impetuous torrent. I 
do not mean that with all classes of scholars 
this excessive activity is needed on the part of 
the teacher. Where pupils have learned to 
think, know how to apply themselves, can go 
down into the depths of profound thought, it is 
not needed, and might disturb rather than as¬ 
sist, but with a large class of the pupils in our 
schools, with those who most need the teacher’s 
aid, scholars who have not yet learned to think, 
and especially those not inclined to do so, it is 
the only effectual way. In a large proportion 
of our schools, activity, physical as well as 
mental, is an essential requisite in the teacher. 
—Indiana School Jcncrnal. 
PHYSICAL EDUCATION. 
Physical Education consists in the improve¬ 
ment of the corporeal organs and functions, so 
as to promote physical vigor, health, and beau¬ 
ty, including such attention to sleep, diet, cloth¬ 
ing, exercise, and ventilation, as shall render 
the person a pleasant and elegant dwelling- 
place for the soul, and a good medium for its 
communication with the external world. 
This branch of education is the peculiar 
mission of the parent. Still, every teacher is 
aware that mental vigor and ability depend 
very much upon physical comfort and well¬ 
being, and that, if she would successfully pro¬ 
mote the mental and moral culture of her pu¬ 
pils, she must first establish this culture on the 
firm basis of sound health. Since imbecility, 
irritability, and depression are the miserable 
offspring of disease, every conscientious teach¬ 
er will regard the promotion of her pupils’ 
health as no insignificant part of her mission, 
and consequently will keep her school-room of 
the right temperature and well ventilated.— 
Nor will she let them contract their chests by 
folding their arms, or bending over their desks, 
but require them to sit erect and stand upright, 
and thus secure a free and healthy respiration. 
She will see, too, that opportunity for exercise 
is afforded them, as often as their age and con¬ 
stitution demand, and that the brain is not 
over-tasked with study.— Mrs. Mather, in 
Mass. Teacher. 
Late hours and anxious pursuits exhaust the 
nervous system. Therefore, the hours of labor 
and study should.be short. 
Elevate the character of the common school. 
Iramtait gifto.'-gurate 3. 
~ Wm 
HENRY INMAN. 
The third Portrait in our series of American 
artists, is that of Henry Inman. He was born 
at Utica, N. Y., in the year 1801, and,like West 
and Stuart, early evinced a taste for the fine 
arts. He expended much of his time and tal¬ 
ents—as indeed most painters in this country 
must do who live by their pencils—in the pro¬ 
duction of portraits, although his genius in 
painting seemed to be universal. Sully says 
of him :—“ I remember going round the exhi¬ 
bition of the National Academy at Clinton 
Hall, New York, and seeing a fine landscape, I 
asked, who painted this ? The answer was, 
Inman. Then I came to a beautiful group of 
figures. Ah ! this is very fine ! Who painted 
this ?—Inman'. Then some Indians caught my 
eye—Inman. A little further on, and I ex- 
Infill ilia. 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
ASTRONOMY OP PYTHAGORAS; 
MISTAKE ON HIS DOCTRINES CORRECTED. 
In the advanced state of modern Astronomy, 
it is natural to look far back into the past, and 
inquire into its early condition. Such a survey 
unfolds, to our amazement, the acquisition of 
principles far surpassing the facilities possessed 
by the ancients. Some have supposed that a 
large sphere of knowledge on the heavenly 
bodies was divinely communicated to the ante¬ 
diluvian patriarchs, which were thence trans¬ 
mitted through Noah and his sons to the post¬ 
diluvian race. It seems to have been ascer¬ 
tained that Thales of Miletus, who founded the 
Ionian school, taught about 600 years before our 
era, that the stars were composed of matter like 
that of the earth; that there is a plurality of 
worlds ; that the moon, as well as the earth, re¬ 
ceives its light from the sun ; that eclipses of 
the moon result from her passing into the earth’s 
shadow; that the earth is round and divided 
into five zones ; that the equator is oblique to 
the ecliptic ; and he is said to have predicted 
an eclipse of the sun. These principles and 
facts imply other splendid attainments. 
Pythagoras, who was born about 586 years 
before Christ, and taught in Italy, has often 
been called the early founder of the Copernican 
Astronomy, and his doctrines have been said to 
have been lost till revived again by Copernicus 
early in the sixteenth century. But Pythago¬ 
ras taught a very different system, and the mis¬ 
take should be more generally understood, and 
the correction made. To the learned Professor 
of Greek in our University, I am specially in¬ 
debted for the correction of the mistake, and 
for the showing of the Greek authorities. 
No writings of Pythagoras have come down 
to us, and the learned world is indebted chiefly 
to his disciple, Philolaus, who flourished about 
450 B. C. From him it is ascertained, that 
Pythagoras, from his mathematical notions, 
held the decad or ten, to be the perfect number,' 
as the sum of the first three prime numbers, 
2, 3 and 5, and formed his astronomical system 
into ten spheres, as follows : He assumed the 
central body to be fire, fixed and invisible to us, 
around which revolved; 1. the Antichthon or 
imaginary body opposite to the Earth, and al¬ 
ways between it and the central fire ; 2, the 
Earth ; 3, the Moon ; 4, the Sun, through and 
from which the central fire diffused its heat and 
light on every side ; 5, Mercury; 6, Venus ; 7, 
Mars ; 8, Jupiter in 12 years ; 9, Saturn in 30 
years ; and 10, the Starry Heavens, revolving 
in a great period. 
The antichthon, the counter-earth or anti¬ 
earth revolved with the earth daily, and, by in¬ 
tercepting the light of the sun, produced day 
and night on the earth, for Pythagoras did not 
conceive of the diurnal motion of the earth on 
the axis. The sun revolved round the central 
(body) fire, once in the year. 
It is obvious, that this is not our system, or 
the Copernican system of Astronomy, nor is it 
like it. The central body is not the same ; the 
sun is not fixed or central, but revolves round 
the central fire; the moon revolves round the 
central body, and has not the earth as its cen¬ 
tre. Neither the sun nor the earth, is the cen¬ 
tral body round which the planets revolve. It 
contains two imaginary bodies, the central fire, 
and the antichthon, the latter being destitute, 
in all respects, of the least probability, and 
only made necessary by his assumption of an 
invisible central body of fire. 
latatf) glmitp. 
For the Rural New-Yorker. 
claimed ; this is the finest miniature I have seen 
for many a day! who is this miniature painter ! 
—Inman. His variety of style took me alto¬ 
gether by surprise.” 
Unlike most other American artists, who 
very wisely spend several years in Europe 
studying the immortal productions of the old 
masters, and perfecting themselves in the mys¬ 
teries of their profession, Inman was but eight 
months abroad ; and that chiefly for the benefit 
of his health two years previous to his death, 
which occurred in New York city on the 17th 
of January, 1856. He was an amiable, excel¬ 
lent man, and died lamented by all who knew 
him. His life has passed away like a tale that 
is told, but his memory and his works remain a 
rich legacy to posterity. 
The system of Pythagoras is unlike the 
Ptolemaic and the Tychonic, as well as the 
Copernican. It is only wonderful that any one 
should have stated, that Pythagoras was the 
author of the Copernican Astronomy or even 
approximated to the adoption of its grand 
principles. o. d. 
The Great Artesian Well in Paris. —This 
extraordinary well is bored in the centre of the 
Court of Abbatior, goes 1,700 feet into the bow¬ 
els of the earth, and the column of water, nine 
inches in diameter, rises in a copper tube 112 
feet above the surface. From this elevation it 
descends by means of another tube to the 
ground, and is conducted to the reservoir at the 
Pantheon, whence it is distributed for the use 
of the inhabitants. The temperature of the 
water is constantly 80° Fahrenheit. It holds 
several salts in solution, among the rest iron— 
which colors glass submitted to its action—and 
is highly charged with carbonic acid gas. This 
is the deepest well yet bored, and the facts 
connected with it serve to explode the old doc¬ 
trine that such wells were mere examples of a 
jet of wet having its head on some mountain or 
high table land passing under ground and 
springing through the outlet up to the height of 
its head. The supply of water from this well 
is 3,400,000 gallons in 24 hours. 
Idleness is the gate of all harms. 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
MISCELLANEOUS ENIGMA. 
I am composed of twelve letters. 
My 3, 7, 2, 6 is an incumbrance. 
My 4, 8, 1 is a river in Scotland. 
My 6, 5, 8,12, 2, 8, 9 is a cause of pain. 
My 3, 10, 7, 11 is a small, narrow opening. 
My whole is an optical instrument. 
Rochester, N. Y. G. P. E. 
Answer next week. 
Written for the Rural New-Yorker. 
ALGEBRAICAL PROBLEM. 
A. aNd B. played at marbles ; the first game 
A. loses to B. half of what he had at the begin¬ 
ning ; the second game B. loses to A. the sev¬ 
enth of what he then had. A. had then 13 and 
B. 30 marbles. How many had each at the 
beginning ? a. o. p. 
Jgtp Answer next week. 
For Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
PUZZLE FOR BOYS AND GIRLS. 
Read see, I thee. 
Up may am with 
And you in ’tis 
Down, as Love, and 
Louisville, Ky. Willie. 
Jgf" Answer next week. 
MATHEMATICAL PROBLEM. 
What is the capacity (beer measure) of a pail 
twelve inches in height and ten inches in diam¬ 
eter, standing on edge, the side and bottom 
making equal angles with a level. n. k. 
Fairport, N. Y. 
Answer next week. 
Answer to Geometrical Problem in No. 325 ; 
It is a square whose sides are the radius divided 
by the square root of two. 
Answer to Miscellaneous Enigma in No. 325; 
Geography. 
SABBATH EVE. 
Ix beauty sinks the parting sun, 
As evening shades appear, 
And beauteous as dreams of heaven, 
The nightly train draws near. 
Bright earth with all her glorious things, 
Sleeps calmly ’neath the spirit’s wings, 
Reflecting back bright hues above, 
Rejoicing in a flood of love. 
The blue isles of the boundless deep, 
The heaven’s blue arch on high,— 
The flowers that gaze upon the skies— 
The bright streams flowing by 
Are teeming with religion — deep 
O’er earth and sea its glories sleep, 
And mingle with the starry rays. 
Like the soft light of parted days. 
The heart is filled with glorious thoughts, 
With transport beating wild, 
As thought ascends up to the shrine, 
Of glory undefiled. 
And holy breathings from the heart, 
Like blessed angels ever start, 
And bind—for earth’s fond ties are riven, 
Our spirits to the gates of heaven. 
Oakfield, N. Y., 1856. 
For Moore s Rural New-Yorker. 
CHRISTIAN EXERCISE. 
The Christian is the representative of Jesus 
Christ. On him are imposed duties, and to 
him are given privileges, in the performance 
and exercise of which he will ever find his 
highest good. The religion which he professes 
is, and of necessity must be, progressive, and he 
must needs find it necessary to lay hold upon all 
the objective influences within his reach in 
order that he may fully carry out this inherent 
principle, and make that advancement in the 
divine life which will insure for him perfect 
peace. He must exercise every gift with which 
God has blessed him, or he will fail to grow in 
grace,— fail to add something each day to his 
stock of spiritual strength. By no means the 
least among these outside influences, is that of 
witnessing for Christ —bearing testimony by 
word, on all suitable occasions, and speaking of 
those things which make for the peace of every 
human soul. 
On earth, we live two lives—one an inward 
or spiritual—the life of the soul,—the other an 
outward or life of the body. The one needs sus¬ 
tenance and food as much as the other ; and if 
proper exercise is needed to develop and 
strengthen our physical, then by the same law 
the exercise of our spiritual gifts and privileges 
is equally necessary to the development of 
our spiritual being. For this object — that of 
strengthening each other—of building up each 
other—Christians meet together, and speak often 
one to another, and talk about their Savior and 
that bright world beyond the tomb. When the 
heart of the Christian is warm with love to 
Christ ; when every thought, and feeling, and 
impulse of the soul is in perfect harmony with 
that great heart which beats for the world; 
when, like the Savior at Samaria’s well he feels 
it to be his meat and drink to do the will of his 
Father in heaven ; then it is impossible for him 
to keep silence upon this all-absorbing theme 
that fills and swells his soul; then, whether in 
the conference or prayer meeting ; on the Sab¬ 
bath or week day ; in the family, the counting- 
room, the shop, the street or the field—in fact, 
wherever he finds an ear to listen, he pours out 
from an overflowing soul those great truths that 
take hold on eternity. 
If from the abundance of the heart the mouth 
speaketh, how is it possible for us to conceive 
of a real Christian, who rarely if ever speaks of 
religion. I remember, in early life, a man who 
I was told was a Christian ; and yet—a thing 
that seemed very strange to me — I had seen 
him in a great many prayer meetings ; had been 
often in his family and in his company else¬ 
where ; but had never heard him open his lips 
to tell of the Savior’s love, or point the sinner 
to Calvary. He excused himself by saying that 
he had not the ability, and consequently not 
the confidence to do so ; and yet he had ability 
enough to talk intelligently upon general topics. 
Such Christians, if Christians they are, are sure¬ 
ly an enigma. 
My timid brother, what if you cannot express 
your thoughts in such smooth, plain language 
as one more gifted! What if you cannot 
stand up in the great congregation and talk as 
well, as long and fluently—these can constitute 
no plausible reason why you should forever 
hold your peace. If you can say no more, 
speak those few words—the sweetest you can 
utter—“ I love the Savior.” Say it again and 
again, wherever you have an opportunity. Our 
hearts have often been more touched at the 
sound of those words than by a labored sermon. 
The short and simple recital of God’s dealing 
with the young convert have stirred our soul 
from the very depths. A word coming up from 
a meek and subdued heart, will wake a re¬ 
sponse in every sanctified soul. 
Let not a favorable opportunity slip to bear 
your humble testimony to the beauty and truth 
of the Gospel of Christ —and soon, what seem¬ 
ed your duty, will grow sweetly into a blessed 
privilege, dear as your life, until you mix and 
mingle with that innumerable company, who 
lift up their clear, angelic voices, for ever and 
ever before the Great White Throne, singing “Holy, 
Holy, Holy Lord God Almighty, which was and is, 
and is to come.” s. a. e. 
Rochester, March, 1S56. 
“ I can hardly think that man to be in his 
right mind,” said Cicero, “ who is destitute of 
religion. 
TMTUmiTiiTU'WAITUTUTTAJTUTU'HlITii 
