180 
MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY NEWSPAPER. 
(Bbitrationnl Dqmrtmtnt. 
BY L. WETHER ELL 
SINGING IN SCHOOL. 
Every school toacher should be a singer 
as well as teacher of the more common arts 
and sciences. It has been said by those who 
have written on the qualifications of instruc¬ 
tors that the time is not tar distant when all 
teachers of youth in our public schools will 
be required to teach their pupils music, as 
well as the arts of reading and spelling. 
In large cities it has been the custom for 
many years to employ a music leacher to 
instruct the children of the public schools 
in the art of singing. This has been done 
lor several years in this city. We had the 
pleasure of listening a few evenings since to 
a concert at Corinthian Hall, by two hun¬ 
dred and fifty girls from the public schools 
on the east side ot the river—under the di¬ 
rection of Mr. B. W. Durfee, their teacher. 
The Hall was well filled with attentive list¬ 
eners. A number of Solos, Duetts, Trios, 
the Cuckoo, the Echo Song, &c., were sung 
exceedingly well. At the earnest request of 
many citizens this Concert has been repeated. 
No one who attended those Concerts could 
have left without being fully convinced of 
both tho practicability and desirability of 
having music taught in school. Nearly 
every child can thus be taught to sing. We 
deem it highly important that every child 
should be taught to sing. It is a grace that 
none can well dispense with—and it'adds 
greatly both to the happiness and usefulness 
in life. 
HR. LOVELL’S SCHOOL, NEW HAVEN. 
Arithmetic. —Our exorcises are divided 
into three kinds: — 1. Mental, or those 
1 which are wrought exclusively in the miml. 
2. Mutual, or those of the explanatory kind. 
8. Practical, or those intended to test the 
knowledge acquired from tho two previous 
methods. 
EXAMPLES. 
1. IIow much wine, at 83. per gallon, 
must be given for 7 barrels of Hour, at #14 
per barrel?—Ans. 73£ ; — given i.f minute. 
2. It the pendulum of a clock swing once 
in a second, how many times will it swing in 
30 days ?—Ans. 2,592.000,—in half a min¬ 
ute. 
3. At #87 per ewt.,how much would four 
chests of tea, each weighing 3 cwt. 3 qr. 14 
lb., con ?—Ans. #1,348 50,—in one minute. 
4. Multiply 314 521,325 by 231,452,153, 
and give the product.—Ans. 72,796,637,835,- 
662 725,—in 5 and a half minutes. 
6. Multiply 253,412,003,520,155,102,350, 
liy 521,342,125,145 534,142,125, 
l’r. 132,114,352,452,585.239/925,224,740,- 
717,448,821,493,750. 
Tiie foregoing examples were performed 
in the presence of numerous spectators, by 
a large-class of boys, in the time stated, ex¬ 
cepting the last, and that was done by two 
be vs, John B. Stow and George Barnett, 
mentally, without .making a figure. The 
funner brought up his answer perfectly 
rig-ire, repeating it, without the least hesita¬ 
tion, in torty minutes ; the other made one 
mistake at tho fourth figure, hut corrected 
it and pronounced the product aloud, with¬ 
in l'orty-five minutes, it is the longest ex¬ 
ample "of the kind that has, perhaps, over 
been attempted. The boys were under 14 
years of age. There is at this time a girl in 
the iemale department, who has multiplied 
nine figures by nine figures, within two min¬ 
utes. Such performances may appear in¬ 
credible to those who are not familiar with 
thorn, and I could not myself, I confess, be¬ 
lieve in them, if they were not done under 
my own eye, with a knowledge of the course 
of instruction, and all the circumstances.— 
Any boy ot good capacity, however, can be 
taught to do likowiso. It is mentioned of 
Voltaire, as a groat feat, that he could mul¬ 
tiply the 9 digits into the 9 digits in the 
course of a “long walk.” Many of my pu¬ 
pils have dono the same, the figures being 
arranged in whatever manner, in five min¬ 
utes. The mode of getting at the result in 
one product is .peculiar. I will therefore 
subjoin a short development of it. The ad¬ 
vantage of this mental training is not so 
much the adroitness which it imparts to the 
pupil, in replying to certain, or any laii^ 
questions, as it is in tho nico discipline which 
it gives to tho mind, the power of concotra- 
tion which it generates, and the habit at will, 
(which is a necessary consequence) of entire 
abstraction. 
EXAMPLE. 
Multiply 3 4 5 
By 5 6 3 
Product, 1 9 4 2 3 5 
1. Units multiplied by units, give units, or 
units and tens. As 3X5=15, that is 5 unite, 1 
ten 
2. Units multiplied by ten3, give tens, or tens 
and hundreds, aid tens multiplied by units, give 
the same. As 6x5=30+1 (carried)=31. 3X4 
—loj|_ >i= 43 j that is 3 tens, 4 hundreds. 
3. Units multiplied by hundreds give hundreds, 
or hundreds and thousands, and hundreds multi¬ 
plied by units, give the same ; and tens multi¬ 
plied by tens give the same. As 5x5=25+4 
(cariei)=29. 3x4=9+29=38. 6x4=24+38= 
62. that is 2 hundreds 6 thousands. 
4. Tens multiplied by hundreds, give thousands, 
or thousands and tens of thousands, and hundreds 
multiplied by tens, give the same. As 5x4=20 
+6 (carried)=26. 3x6=18+26=44, that is 4 
thousands and 4 tens of thousands. 
5. Hundreds multiplied by hundreds, give tens 
of thousands, or tens and hundreds of thousands. 
As 5x3=15+4 (carried )= 19, that is 9 tens of 
thousands and 1 hundred of thousands. 
It should bo understood, that although 
mental arithmetic, in it3 easier forms, has 
a primary rank in our several methods, we 
do not attach to it primary importance in 
respect to the whple subject of arithmetic. 
Asa special object, we attend to it but twice 
a week,—on Wednesday and Saturday.— 
These with us are broken days, and our 
studies are somewhat irregular and promis¬ 
cuous. The monitors a part of the time, 
give their attention to composition and men¬ 
tal arithmetic, whilst the classes are at some 
other studies, under the second set of mon¬ 
itors. The other part of these days is given 
to the general school under the first set.— 
We vary our work according to circumstan¬ 
ces. On these days too. wo reward our ab¬ 
sentee inquirers, let out deserving boys on 
the amount of their time tickets, and have 
our pencils sharpened. I should have re¬ 
marked when on the subject of writing, that 
care is not only taken in this particular, but 
also to have them inserted in a tight tin case 
about 5 inches long, so that the pupil pan 
use his pencil in every respect as he does 
the pen. and receive great assistance from it 
in the acquirement of a good, free, and easy 
command of hand. The “absentee inqu'i 
rers,” are boys who, for tho sake of boine 
“ let out” a little earlier on these days, under¬ 
take to call upon the parents of those who 
are not present, and ascertain if the absence 
is justifiable. We appoint six absentee mon¬ 
itors. or one for each dav of the week.— 
Their business is, to get'the names of all 
absentees, appoint suitable enquirers, regis¬ 
ter the number of absentees presented by 
each inquirer,receive their messages report 
truants, &c., &e. Some plan of this kind i: 
absolutely necessary in a large school. 
SHAKSFEARE - BURNS - BUS YAK. 
Let then, tho stage player, tho tinker 
and the guager, -appear for a moment to¬ 
gether upon our stage. The first is a 
swarthy,Spaniard looking man « t i tall lore 
head, sharp sidelong eyes, dark Lair curling 
over his lips and chin, and firm deep cut 
nostril, i lie second lias a tresli complex¬ 
ion, auburn locks, round brow, hair on h.s 
upper lip after the old English fashion, and 
sparkling, glowing eyes, not the least like 
those of a dreamer, but resembling rather 
the eyes of “ some hot amourist,” as John 
Woodville hath it. The third lias a broad 
low brow p Updating with thought and .suffer¬ 
ing in their great round orbs with emotii n, 
like the star Venus in the orange west; nos¬ 
tril slightly curved upward, dusky skin, 
black masses of hair, and dimpled, unde¬ 
cisive chin and cheek. All three have im¬ 
agination as their leading faculty, but that 
of the player is as wide as the globe; that of 
the tinker is intense, almost to lunacy; and 
that of tho gauger is narrow and vivid as a 
stream of forked lightning. All three have 
strong intellect, but tho intellect of the one 
is capacious, that of the other is casuistic, 
and that of the third clear. All are partial¬ 
ly educated, hut Shakspoarefs culture is 
that of the society of his ago, Bunyan’s that 
ot solitary reading, and Burns’s a compound 
of both. All are men of “ one book/ Shak- 
speare's being the universe, Bunyan’s the 
Bible, and Burns the ballad poetry of Sobt- 
land. All are men of intensely ardent tem¬ 
perament, which in Shakspearo is subdued 
by the width of the mind in which the fur 
naco glows, which in Bunyan becomes a 
purged flame, but which in poor Burns 
bursts out of ail restraint into a destructive 
conflagration. In the works of all, male- 
riam super at opus, the genius of Shakspearo 
flaming out of mean structures of farce and 
tragi-oomody, Bunyan’s power overflowing 
the banks of narrow controversial treatises, 
and tho great soul of Burns o er-inforining 
the tenement of fugitive poems, jeu.i d’espir- 
its satires, and semi-scandalous ballads. All 
sprang from the people, but Avhile (Shaks¬ 
pearo and Burns belonged to its upper 
stratum, Bunyan appeared amid its lowest* 
dregs, like a new creation amid the slush of 
chaos. Ah had something of a religious 
tendency ; hilt while in Shakspeare it takes 
a vague diffusive form, and in Burns never 
amounts to much more than what he him¬ 
self cails “an idiotic piety,” in Bunyan it 
becomes a deep burning principled'thought 
and action, at once swallowing up and sanc¬ 
tifying his native genius. 
The fate of the three was curious and 
characteristic. Shakspearo, the-sublime 
stage-player, outliving his early self, with 
those mysterious errors which are partially 
revealed in his sonnets, subsided- into a 
decent, retired, self-indulgent gentleman, 
like a dull, sleepy, soaking evening, follow¬ 
ing a day of blended storm and splendor. 
Burns, after many a vain attempt to rally 
against the sins and misfortunes of his life 
and temperament, fell down at last their 
proud recalcitrating victim, dying and ma¬ 
king but dubious signs; while John Bunyan, 
strong in supernal might, victorious over 
his tendencies, having hound his very mad¬ 
ness in chains, and turned his tears and tor¬ 
tures into the elements of hope and triumph 
crossed the black river, singing in concert 
with the shining ones, and passed into eter¬ 
nity, perfect through suffering, and resem¬ 
bling rather one of its own native children 
than a poor burdened sinner from the City 
of Destruction. Philosophers might specu¬ 
late long and vainly on tiie causes of those 
very different destinies. Our theory is the 
simple Christian one:—God endowed the 
three with almost commensurate powers, 
but one only, through patient struggle and 
solemn search, reached the blessed hope 
and new life of Christianity. And we come 
to tho further analysis and illustration of 
Bunyan’s genius, with this exulting thought, 
“Wo are not about to speak of a ray that 
has wandered, or even of a magnificent 
world unfinished, unnamed, unbaptized of 
God, but of a star once astray, but which 
returned and received a place in the great 
galaxy of /the worshipping and holy heav¬ 
ens.”— -London Eclectic Review. 
Guilt, though it may attain temporal 
splendor can never confer real happiness. 
Above we present very accurate portraits 
of Jenny Lind Goldschmidt, Signor Bel- 
letti, Herr Goldschmidt, and Mr. Barnum. 
The late marriage of Jenny, and the more 
recent exodus of herself and lioge lord from 
America, render their “ counterfeit present¬ 
ments” interesting, just now,—while the 
reputation of Belletti, and the fame of 
.Barnum, (the prince of showmen.) and their 
connection with the “ Swedish Nightingale,’ 
entitle them to representation. 
Jenny Lind —now Madame Goldschmidt 
—the Queen of Song, tho winner of hearts, 
and the opener of purses—has just departed 
for Europe. Tho following poem by C. P. 
Cranch, is Jenny’s “Farewell to America,” 
and was sung at the conclusion of her last 
concert in New York, given on the 24th ult., 
at Castle Garden, the placo where her 
“Greeting to America,” burst so joyously 
forth. The plaintive notes of her “ Fare¬ 
well”—tranquil and pensive in their char¬ 
acter— were listened to by about seven 
thousand persons with quiet yet real regret. 
No woman occupying a similar position, 
ever won so universally the respect ot all 
within her influence—her purity, her mod¬ 
esty, her benevolence and her womanly- 
worth, have secured her a place in the 
hearts of the American people. 
Younq land of hope—fair Western Start 
Whose li^ht I hailed from climes afar— 
I leave thee now—but twine for thee 
One parting wreath of melody. 
O alee this offering of the heart 
From one who feels ’tis sad to part. 
And if it be that strains of mine 
Have glided from my heart to thine, 
M,y voice was but the breeze that swept 
Tiie spirit chords that in thee slept. 
The music was not all my own— 
Thou givCst hack the answering tone. 
Farewell -when parted from thy shore, 
Long absent scenes return once more; 
Where’er the wanderer’s home may he, 
S.id, s ill will memory turn to-;hue! 
Bright Freedom’s clime—I feel thy spell, , 
But I must say fare wed—farewell I 
DROMEDARY RIDING. 
Bayard Taylor, in a recent letter from 
southern Nubia, published in the New York 
Tribune, in which he describes a ride across 
the great Nubian desert, thus speaks of 
the pleasures and peculiarities of dromeda¬ 
ry riding. 
I found dromedary riding not at all diffi¬ 
cult. Olio sits on a very lofty seat, with his 
feet crossed over the animal’s shoulders, or 
resting on his neck. The body is obliged to 
rock backward and forward, on account ot 
the long, swinging gait, and as there is no 
stay or fulcrum except a blunt pommel, 
around which the legs are crossed, some 
little power of eqilibrium is necessary. My 
dromedary was a strong, stately beast, of a 
light cream color and so even a gait, that it 
would bear the Arab test; that is, one might 
drink a cup of coffe, while going on a full 
trot, without spilling a drop. I found a 
great advantage in the use of tho Turkish 
costume. My trowsers, which contain eigh¬ 
teen yards of muslin, though they only 
reach to tho knees, allow the leg perfect 
freedom of motion, and I have already 
learned so many different modes of crossing 
those members that no day is sufficient to 
exhaust them. The rising and kneeling of 
the animal is hazardous at first, as his long 
legs double together like a carpenter’s rule, 
and you are thrown backward, and then 
forward, then backward again, but the trick 
of it is soon learned. The soreness and fa¬ 
tigue of which many travelers complain, I 
have not yet experienced. I ride from 
eight, to ten hours a day, read and even 
dream in the saddle, and am as fresh and 
unwearied as when I began the journey. 
No one, says Jerome, loves to tell a tale 
of scandal, except to him that loves to hear 
it; learn, then, to check and rebuke tho de¬ 
tracting tongue, by showing that you do not 
listen to it with pleasure. 
CJCOA-PALMS, AT BENARES. 
In this region there are whole woods of 
cocoa-palms, of which India is the native 
land, and here they reach a height of eighty 
feet; and bear fruit in six years •/whjle in 
other countries they are seldom more than 
filty feet high, and do not bear for fifteen 
years. It is, perhaps, tho most useful tree in 
the world, giving a large nourishing fruit, a 
delicious milk, large leaves for covering huts, 
the strongest ropes, the' purest oil, besides 
mats, woven stuff's, dye-stuff's, and a spirit' 
called palm-brandy, which is obtained by 
making incisions in the crown ot the tree. 
During a whole month the Hindoos climb 
up every morning and evening, to take the 
juice that has dripped into pots placed ready 
to receive it. 
A Touching Custom. —There exists at 
Lhassa a touching custom, which wo were 
in some sort jealous of finding among infi¬ 
dels. In the evening as soon as the light 
declines, tho Thibetan men, women, and 
children cease from all business, andassem 
ble in the principal part of the city, and in 
the public squares. As soon as the groups 
are formed, every one sits down on tho 
ground, and begins slowly to chant his 
prayers in an under tone, and tho religious 
concert produces an immense and solemn 
harmony throughout the city, powerfully af¬ 
fecting to the soul! The first tiino we heard 
it, we could not help making a sorrowful 
comparison between this Pagan town where 
all prayed in common, with the cities of Eu¬ 
rope, where poople would blush to make 
the signs of the .cross in public.— Hue's 
Travels in Tartary. 
To discover how many idle men there aro 
in a place, all that is necessary is to set two 
dogs a fighting. 
All things aro soon prepared in a well 
ordered house. 
labtmtlj Jlniiiings. 
PROVIDENCE. 
JrsT as a mother, wi ll a sweet pious face, 
Yearns towards her little children from her seat, 
Gives one a kiss, another an embrace, 
Takes iliis upon her knees, that on her feet, 
And while from actions, looks, complaints, pretences, 
She learns - their feelings, and their various will, 
To this a look, to thfu a word dispenses, 
And whether stern or surfing, loves them still; 
So Providence for us, high infinite, 
Makes our necossi ies his watchful task, 
Hearkens to all our prayers, helps all our wants, 
And even if it denies what seems our right, 
Either denies because’t would have us ask, 
Or seems to.deny, or in denying grants. 
MISTAKE CORRECTED. 
There is a spirit of independence in our 
fallen nature, which not only spurns at all 
heavenly control, but actually blinds our 
eyes to tbe existence of any such control. 
We wish to be free, and we imagine we are 
so. We accordingly lay our plans and set 
about our projects, exactly as though wo 
we were our own masters, without any ref¬ 
erence to God. or any suspicion whatever of 
his interference with us. “ To-day, or to¬ 
morrow,” wo say, “ we will go into such a 
city, and continue there a year, and buy, 
and sell and get gain.” We go. but what 
takes place ? Events that we did not fore¬ 
see rise up and baffle us. They first ham¬ 
per our schemes, and then demolish them. 
We find out that we have been calculating 
in tho dark. We are foree+to feel that we 
are not our own masters, nor the authors of 
our destinies; that there is a hand which 
over-rules us, and all that befalls us. 
We are reminded in fact, of a forgotten 
God, Our ignorance of the future brings 
our best-laid schemes to ruin ; our ruined 
schemes tell us of our dependence on tho 
world’s great Master. The truth comes out 
—we are “ under the mighty hand of God;” 
and though wo may struggle under that 
hand, and spurn the control it exercises, wo 
see that we cannot escape from it. We are 
constrained to feel its existence, and yield 
to its power. And then, perhaps, at last, 
wo are compelled to admit God into our 
schemes. We lay them before him; wo re¬ 
member that their success depends entirely 
upon him. It is still, as before. “We will 
do this, or that;” but then comes in this 
short saying more, “ If the Lord will,’’— 
making the difference between the indepen¬ 
dence of a rebel, and the subjection‘that 
becomes a creature.— Bradley. 
“I CANNOT STAND THAT.” 
And what could not the sailor “stand?” 
He had stood the beating of many a storm. 
Often had he mounted up to heaven* and 
gone down again into the depths. Many a 
time had his soul been melted because of 
trouble. Yet lie has rode out the storm; 
trod the billowy deep boldly, and given Lis 
troubles to the winds. But now bo meets 
something which he “ cannot stand.” What 
is it? lie can stand the perils of a leo 
shore. IIo can bear being a night and a 
day in the deep. lie can buffet ilio hard¬ 
est gale that ever blew off' tiie “Horn”— 
He can do and endure more severe labor 
and hardship than any other man; butMiow 
he knocks under. It is the picture hn tho 
cover of a tract, of a woman teaching a 
child. “O’said ho, “I cannot stand that; 
it reminds me of my poor dear mother ; it 
isjusttheway she used to teach me; but 
she is gone;” and be burst into tears. 
Mother! 'there are no human teachings 
like your own. Call your boy to your side, 
and give him instructions warm from a 
mother’s heart. And should that hoy break 
away from bis home, and become a rover on 
the deep, some little incident may recall 
the scenes of his early years. lie. too, may 
be reminded of his “poor dear mother,” 
who used to call him to her side, and tell 
him about Jesus Christ, and the way to eter¬ 
nal life.— Sailor's Magazine. 
the Rower of silence. 
What a strange power there is in silence! 
IIow many resolutions are formed—how 
many sublime conquests are effected during 
that pause when tldf lips are closed, and 
the-soul secretly feels the eye of its Maker 
upon it! When some of those cutting 
sharp, blighting words have been spoken 
which send the hot indignant blood to tho 
face and head, if these to whom they are 
addressed keep silence, look on with awe ; 
for a mighty work is going on within them, 
and the spirit of evil, or their. guardian 
angel, is very near them in that hour. Du¬ 
ring that pause they have made a stop to¬ 
ward heaven or hell; an item has been 
scored in the book which the day of judg¬ 
ment shall see opened- They are strong 
ones of earth, the mighty for good or evil, 
those who know how to keep silence when 
it is a pain and grief to the,in; those who 
give time to their own souls to wax strong 
against temptation, or to the powers of wrath 
to stamp upon shorn their withering pas¬ 
sage. 
Idealisms.— You accuse me of a propen¬ 
sity to idealise. I am sorry that you do not 
give me credit for sufficient true-hearted* 
ness to love' the Beautiful devotedly without 
the necessity of coloring it more highly 
with tho imagination. If it were as you say 
I should bo fated to turn perpetually to 
new objects, till cold experience gradually 
taught me better, and warned me against 
such folly with bitter mockery.—till 1 sank 
into hopeless misery. Such a warmth is 
not that of life but the unhealthy and 
transitory glow of fever?— JYeibuhr. 
The paths of virtue, though seldom those 
of worldly greatness, are always those of 
pleasantness and peaeo. 
