388 
MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY NEWSPAPER 
(fiRmitioiml lepartranit. 
BY L. WEAKER ELL. 
BOOKS TO BE BEAD. 
The winter-days and more especially the 
winter evenings, constitute that part of the 
year which the Rural population devotes to 
reading—that is to say, that portion of it. 
which reads, for we are sorry to have learned 
from a somewhat extensive observation, that 
there are some of this portion of earth’s 
happiest denizens, that do not read scarcely 
any thing——if they read at all, it is too fre- 
quently something that might as well not 
be read and perhaps far better let entirely 
alone. 
To such as are desirous of reading good 
books on agriculture, we would suggost not 
only the reading but the study oi Liebig s 
and Johnston’s Agricultural Chemistry; also, 
Boussingault’s Rural Economy. These 
are among tho very best text-books on the 
subjects of which they treat. Stephens’ 
Book of the Farm, Coleman’s agricultural 
works, the New York and other States'pub¬ 
lished Transactions are also valuable. On 
fruits and fruit culture wo will name the 
works of Downing, Thomas and Barry.— 
Every agriculturist and horticulturistshould 
be furnished with the works here mentioned 
or others of similar merit if they can be 
procured. 
Let such books as these be carefully read, 
studied, marked, and mentally digested by 
earth’s tillers, whether agricultural or hor¬ 
ticultural, or both, and they would very soon 
put to flight the aliens of book-farming, so 
called. Is careful observation and personal 
experience in any art, the less valuable be¬ 
cause written and printed in a book, or fur¬ 
nished through the columns of a weekly or 
monthly journal ? If so, then why not re¬ 
ject the teaching of the living voice, or, oral 
instruction ? Reject this, then your only 
source of improvement is your own limited 
observation, and far more narrow experi¬ 
ence. There are very few, we presume to 
say, of the very strongest objectors to book¬ 
farming, that would take this strong ground, 
for they are almost always great lovers of 
tradition in all matters, and more especially 
such as relate to farming. 
But you must not confine your reading to 
what only immediately concerns your voca¬ 
tion, no matter what it may chance to be. 
If a farmer, your reading should bo both 
professional and general — by professional 
wo mean such as relates directly to your 
chosen occupation—by general, wo mean to 
include all such books as treat of what man 
needs to know in order to be a real man, 
competent for any emergency whero he may 
bo called to act, during his sojourn here. 
You should, therefore, read History, both 
Civil and Natural, as well as tho more gene¬ 
ral History of man’s doings. If you would 
like to become acquainted with his doings in 
the United States of America, read Ban¬ 
croft, Graham and Hildreth, any ono, or 
all of these, as you have time and oppor¬ 
tunity. If you would acquaint yourself 
with the general history of the Old World, 
read Heeken’s Histories. If of G reece, read 
Grote’s; if of Rome, read Gibbon’s and 
Niebhcr’s; if of England, read IIume, Smol¬ 
lett and Robertson; also, Lingard’s and 
tho Pictorial. By the way, if yon would 
become thoroughly skilled in the history of 
man’s doings, read and study carefully the 
history of some ono of the civilized nations. 
When you have done this you have a clue, 
as it were, to Universal History. On gov¬ 
ernmental and civil polity, wc would sug¬ 
gest the works of John Adams, Chancellor 
Kent, Judge Story and Webster. 
On the departments of Natural History 
the works aro so numerous and the depart¬ 
ments of the subject so varied that we can 
name only a few , books. If you desire to 
read on tho History of the Earth, procure 
the works of Lyell, Buckland, Hitchcock 
—if Mineralogy, read Dana; if Ornithology, 
read Audubon, Nuttali, and Wilson —if of 
Quadrupeds, road Audubon —if Botany, read 
Bindley, Gray, and Wood —we would in¬ 
clude, also, on these subjects, the Natural 
History of tho State of New York and of 
Massachusetts. 
But you must not omit tho subject of 
Biography. American Biography, as treat¬ 
ed by Sparks, is exceedingly entertaining 
and instructive. The life and writings of 
Ben Franklin, in ten large octavo volumes, 
edited by Sparks, is an excellent work. In 
reading poetry make your own choice. 
On Theology you may read with profit, 
no matter what your creed is, the works of 
Hooker, Barrow, South, Calvin, Luther, 
Chalmers, Fox, Penn, Barclat, Gurney, 
Edwards Dwight, Watson. Wayland, Wil¬ 
liams, and hosts of others, who are per¬ 
sonal favorites. 
On the mind, you should read such works 
as Locke’s, Stewart’s, Brown’s, Hamil¬ 
ton’s, Coleridge’s, Hickok’s — but last and 
above all, because the chief and best of all 
-—the compend of whet man chiefly needs 
to know—tho Scriptures of the Old and New 
Testament. When these or similar volumes 
have all been read and mastered, you will 
find as little time as inclination, to read 
novels. If you have any doubts, try our 
plan and send us your experience. 
Some of you doubtless who cast your 
eve over these suggestions will feel tho sat¬ 
isfaction of having read not only the 
volumes here named, but many others of a 
kindred kind also. Others will say, that 
they should be very glad to read many of 
the volumes here mentioned, but have no 
means to procure them. This may be in 
some, aye, in a very few extreme cases, true, 
but let thore bo a will: a genuine hungering 
and thirsting for such books, and there will 
be a way. Another objection, that will be 
made by some, is, that they have no time to 
read such elaborate works. To such we 
would say. as of those who plead poverty, 
you will find time to read just as soon as 
you find within yourself a real desire to read. 
Here we speak both from observation and 
experience. 
A few months since, a farmer, not by 
proxy, but one who tills his soil with his 
own hands, expressed to us a strong desire 
to read tho works of President Edwards 
tho greatest Theologian and Metaphysician 
that America has yet produced. We pro¬ 
cured for him the Worcester edition, and lie 
is reading it with great profit both to him¬ 
self and family. 
Books to bo read would not remain un¬ 
read by any of our readers, if the love ot 
books, good books were cherished, as is the 
appetite for narcotics and alcoholics — 
neither would there ho any more need ol 
means to procure the indulgence on the one 
hand than the other. A man has been 
known to go without bread and fine clothes 
for tho sake of tobacco and rum. Olliers 
have been known to wear threadbaro gar¬ 
ments, and to sleep an hour or two less for 
the sake of means and time to indulgo in 
reading. What a man thinks that lie real¬ 
ly needs and must have, ho will, under or¬ 
dinary circumstances, contrive some way 
and means to provide. 
With how much greater satisfaction will 
you look back from tho future, upon this 
winter, if its leisure hours be studiously de. 
voted to the reading of good books, than il 
you, as too many alas. do. spend these price¬ 
less hours, in tavern-haunting, store-loung¬ 
ing, or in any other way of idling your time 
so that no improvement shall mark your 
character. Time is precious ! And some 
of you, dear readers, have not many more 
winters to spend as you did the last and as 
you will probably, this. The spring-time of 
many has past—the heyday of summer is 
reached—autumn will soon come on—and 
then winter with his chilling blast will lay 
you low with your fathers. What you do 
must be done quickly. 
NEW PUBLICATIONS. 
The Silver Lake Stories: Aunt Patty’s Mirror; 
The Budget; The Old Portfolio, and The 
Cornucopia. 
We have already noticed “ The Jumble,” 
and “ The Green Satchel,” which, with the 
four now presented, complete the series of 
six beautiful little volumes written especial¬ 
ly for children, by Cousin Cicely, and taste¬ 
fully published with illustrations, by Wak- 
zer, Beardsley & Co., of our own city.— 
Tho style and narrative both, are such as 
amuse and instruct children. We commend 
these littlo books, which have a rapid sale, 
to the attention of both parents and teach¬ 
ers. 
THE INTELLECTS OF CHILDREN. 
Grown persons are apt to put a lower es¬ 
timate than is just, on the understanding of 
children. They rate them by what they 
know ; and children know very littlo; but 
their comprehension is great. Hence the 
continual wonder of those who are unac¬ 
customed to them, at the old-fashioned ways 
of some lone little ono, who has no playfel¬ 
lows—and at tho odd mixture of the folly 
and wisdom in its sayings. A continual 
battle goes on in a child’s mind, between 
what it knows and what it comprehends.— 
Its answers aro foolish from partial igno¬ 
rance; and wise from extreme quickness of 
apprehension. Tho great art of education 
is so to train this last faculty as neither to 
depress nor over-exert it. The matured 
mediocrity of many an infant prodigy proves 
both the degree of expansion in which it is 
possible to force a child’s intellect, and tho 
boundary which nature has set to tho suc¬ 
cess of such false culture.— Mrs. JYorton. 
Human Ingenuity. —In the formation of 
a single locomotive steam engine, there are 
no fewer than 5 416 pieces to he put together 
and these require to be as accurately ad¬ 
justed as the works of a watch. Every 
watch consists of at least 202 pieces, em¬ 
ploying probably 215 persons, distributed 
among 40 trades, to say nothing of the tool 
makers for all these. 
Real difficulties are the best cure for im¬ 
aginary ones ; because God helps us in the 
real onos and so makes us ashamed of tho 
others. 
HmMng for tjje goring. 
LAZY MIKE. 
BY JAMES P. M’CORD. 
Michael Swift was a lazy boy. He had 
a face fair enough. His frame was faultless, 
and his constitution good. You would have 
judged Irom his appearance, that he could 
Handle a hoe, or any other farmer’s tool, 
with ease and comfort. Yet a set of joints 
more reluctant to move, is seldom put to¬ 
gether. Every elFort he made seemed to 
pain him in tho stomach, or some other vi¬ 
tal part. Hence lie was often called, in tho 
way of sport, ‘’Swift Michael.” He was 
more generally known, however, by the 
name oi ** Lazy Mike.” 
Most boys are in a hurry to get to the 
school-house, if they show no activity about 
any thing else. But Mike was the same at 
school as at home. The scholars never ex¬ 
pected to see him in his place, till about an 
uour alter the time, lie was then a long 
while in gerting his hook and finding his les¬ 
son. When he seemed all ready to study, 
and to have set himself fairly at it, in a few 
minutes his eyes would be rolling about, 
ready to ho entertained by any trifle. Of 
eeurse, he seldom recited a lesson well.— 
He made some progress in learning, to be 
sure ; for a drop a day will fill a large gourd- 
shell, after a while. For instance, he made 
out, under the occasional stimulus of a birch 
sprout to learn the multiplication table in 
about four months. 
Though Mike hated his books, lie was al¬ 
ways sorry when the warm weather came ; 
tor then he was required to stay at home, to 
render assistance on the farm. You could 
easily guess that ho was full as much plague 
as profit. He was as •• vinegar to the teeth, 
and as smoke to the eyes.” If sent to lay 
up a rail, or dig a lew potatoes, he was gone 
twice as long as lie should have been.— 
When ho went lor the cows, he would loiter 
along, as if milking-time came near mid¬ 
night—now turning aside in quest of ber¬ 
ries, and new stepping to whip down every 
mullen m his way, or to skip stones over the 
surface ol a pond. You wuuld have laugh¬ 
ed at his operations in the hay-field. A 
smart boy wuuld have spread three swaths 
tu ins one, and spread them a great deal 
better besides. In raking after the cart, he 
would soon lall far behind, when he would 
look up at the man who was pitching, as if 
lie wanted to ho pitied. 
When he became old enough lie was re- 
qui.ed to hold the plow. His father gave 
bun some lessons m the art, and walked 
with him two or three tunes across the lot, 
to see how he managed, and then left him 
to practice as well as be could. Mike work¬ 
ed well tor a couple of hours. Tho idea 
that he was man enough to plow, was like a 
spur in his side. When, however, the 110 s 7 - 
elty of tho thing had gone, and tho sun be¬ 
gan to bring the sweat out of him pretty 
neely, ho became himself again. It took 
him out a few minutes to conclude that he 
ought to have a little rest. Accordingly, 
lie brought his team to a stand, and stretch¬ 
ed himself on the grass in the shadow of the 
fence. 
After a while Mr. Swift returned to tho 
field, to inspect Ins son’s work, lie found 
him in tho midst of a comfortable nap, and 
tho oxen quietly chewing their cuds beside 
him. His patience could hold out no lon¬ 
ger. Seizing tho whip, ho laid it in good 
earnest on the legs ot the sleeper. Mike 
sprang to his feet as nimbly as he ever did 
in Ins life, and as the lash still played 
around him, danced toward the plow-handle, 
in a very short time he was fairly at work 
again. 
A great many thoughts entered Mike’s 
head during the partot tho day that follow¬ 
ed. He was quite sure of one or two things 
—that he worked harder than any boy of 
his age ought to work, and that he had been 
punished tar beyond reason tor taking a lit¬ 
tle rest. Tho more ho thought these mat¬ 
ters over, the more unwilling he grew to en¬ 
dure such treatment. Yet what he should 
do was not so clear. After turning over 
several plans, he at last fell upon one which 
he had no doubt would work a happy change 
in his condition. 
Hib mind was full of this plan when ho 
went to bed at night. He determined to ex¬ 
ecute it as soon as tho family had fallen 
asleep. Time rolled on, as he lay in thought. 
One hour passed, and another, and another. 
The house was so still that he could hear 
every thump of his heart. Nothing seem¬ 
ed to be in his way. Yet ho waited — and 
waited—just because he hated to get out of 
a good comfortable bed. At length, how¬ 
ever, on a review of his intolerable lot, and 
stimulated by the hope of escaping from it. 
| he gathered resolution to slido to the floor. 
He was dressed sooner than usual, and mov¬ 
ing about noiselessly, ho collected into a bun¬ 
dle all the clothes ho could find, and groped 
his way to the road. 
Perhaps you wonder whero the boy was 
going. 1 think he hardly knew himself.— 
He thought he would be better off almost 
any where, than under the roof where he 
was born; and his determination was toon- 
gage himself to the first stranger who want¬ 
ed him. But lie started so late, and trudged 
along at so slow a rate, that at sunrise the 
next morning ho was no nioro than seven 
miles from home, lie was then passing the 
house of Judge Wilson. Tho Judge hap¬ 
pened to bo out, and pleasantly wished him 
a good morning. 
“Good morning, sir,” responded Michael, 
taking his bundle from ono arm and putting 
it under tho other. 
“ You are out on tho track quito early,” 
said Mr. Wilson. “Pray, my lad, wherearo 
you bound ?” 
“I want to find work,” answered Mike— 
just as if there was no work to be done 
where he started from. Now the Judge did 
not let out the fact that he knew him. He 
resolved to see what he could make of him, 
for his father’s sake as well as his own.— 
He therefore soon concluded a bargain with 
him. 
Mike felt now as tall as a man. Ho ex¬ 
pected to finger himself every dollar he 
should earn. So he went to work cheerful¬ 
ly, and did pretty well for a week, or more. 
But, after a while, he began to think that 
he was crowded rather hard ; and, in fact, 
the Judge meant to keep him snug at work, 
for a particular reason. While following 
the plow, one day 7 , he got very 7 tii*ed, and felt 
that he could hold out no longer. Leaving 
the team in the midst of a furrow, he went 
over into tho next lot, and seated himself at 
the root of an old tree. Ilis thoughts wore 
at work. He looked at tho rents in his 
clothes, and then at the sores on his feet— 
for ho had forgotten his shoes, when he 
stole away from home — and dropped his 
face on his hands. There was a heavy sen¬ 
sation about his heart, and some drops of 
water ran from the corners of his eyes.— 
Presently, he fell into a deep study. He 
considered whether the wisdom of boys is 
not often found to be folly. He compared 
his former with his present condition, and. 
as the result, came to a good resolution.— 
Ho then brightened up at once, and went 
whistling toward the plow. 
Tho next morning he requested to bo re¬ 
leased from his bargain. 
“ Why, Michael, what is the matter ?” said 
the Judge. 
“ I would like to go home,” answered Mi¬ 
chael. 
“ You have my consent,” replied Mr. Wil¬ 
son, smiling. “ I know your father needs 
your help, and you will have to work no 
harder for him than for any ono olse. Be¬ 
sides you will there have a mother to patch 
your clothes, and darn your stockings.’’ 
Miko went home perfectly cured. He 
had loarned, that in any place he would 
have to earn his living by the sweat of his 
brow. He was ever afterward active, indus¬ 
trious, and faithful. I believe, too, that by 
severe application, ho finally became a pret¬ 
ty good scholar. 
Cljt 6s s agist. 
Written for the Rural New-Yorker. 
A FRAGMENT. 
On! that sunset was beautiful beyond 
compare. Gold-tinged clouds rose steep 
upon steep high above the horizon, and re¬ 
flected the brilliant beams of tho King of 
Day, who lingeringly throw back to earth 
his last farewell—his parting “good night,” 
and then sank “to his rest where the coral 
gardens grow !” 
Slowly faded tint after tint, and almost 
imperceptibly came the calm and holy hush 
of evening while tho night birds sang their 
plaintive melodies, and the thousand insects 
joined their varied tones in a full anthem 
of praise to the Almighty ? Anon and thore 
came glimmerings of pale moonlight ting¬ 
ing every created object, and the twilight 
gloaming was lost in, and absorbed by the, 
mellow radiance. Tho “ sentinel stars ” one 
by ono came to their wonted stations, spot¬ 
ting and studding the violet expanse of 
Heaven’s vast ante-room—and Night spread 
her mantle over tho Universe. I said tho 
moon, regent of Night rodo silently and 
clear above all things—she kissed the waves 
of many waters to sleep and silence, and 
softly touched tho petals of the nodding 
and fragrant flow’rets that still held up their 
tiny cups to catch the sparkling dow, and 
steal the swoetness of tho passing hours. 
At intervals came and went tho soft and 
musical breathings of Eolus in gentle ca¬ 
dences, and ono could almost suppose them 
to be tho whisperings of invisible beings who, 
standing on immortal shores wafted across 
the gulf of time, and the “ dark valley of 
tho shadow of Death,” their sweet and hea\- 
enlv tones. Tho trees and shrubs swayed 
gently to and fro as if drunk with love and 
music. The storehouse of Omnipotence 
seemed opened to tho gaze of mortals, and 
all things seemed tuned to the diapason of 
supernal loveliness. Oh ! Nature is beau¬ 
tiful and true to herself in every phase.— 
She shows her beauty and power as well in 
the gleaming threads of many colored light¬ 
nings that play abovo the horizon on a sum¬ 
mer’s eve, as in the primitive hues of the 
rainbow—which, bow of promise, is born in 
dun-color, swathed in purple and crimson, 
and baptized in molten gold. She twists 
and fastens the fibres of the beach, tho oak, 
and the elm,—she sings in tho babbling of 
the noisy brook, and shrieks and roars in 
tho din of the cataract and the storm,—she 
shows her impress everywhere—in tho dim¬ 
ple of an infant’s cheek, and in the furrow 
on the old man’s brow, and her stereotype 
stands throughout tho world. Through God 
she is powerful and supreme. 
Jonesville, Mich., IS52. GEO. R. BOULTON. 
A person meeting an old man, with silvery 
hair and a very black, bushy beard, asked 
him how it happened that his heard was not 
so gray as the hair of his head ? 
“ Because,” said tho old gentleman, “ it is 
twenty years younger!” 
Fools and madmen have their paradise, 
and are as much pleased with their imagi¬ 
nary honors,as they would be with tho real. 
This makes them averse to all methods of 
cure. 
ubbiitj] Hrabings. 
THE TONGUE. 
Beware the tongue that’s set on fire of hell, 
And llames in slander, falsehood, perjury, 
In malice, idle-talking, thoughtless tales. 
Speak not too much, nor Without thought; let trnth 
In all things, small or great, dwell on thy lips. 
Remember, God hath said, “ He that in word 
Oftends not, is a perfect man; while he 
That bridles not his tongue deceives, himself, 
And shows his faiih in vain 1”— Edwards. 
GOD KNOWS WHAT IS BEST FOR US. 
There was a burning ship in tho river.— 
Cries of agony reached the shore—white 
arms could he seen through the smoke, up- 
lilted to heaven. Tho banks smiled in soft 
luxuriance, tho heavens in their placid 
beauty, borrowed not a cloud from any 
storm. 
But faces full of horror watched from the 
shore; shrieks wrung tho soul with anguish 
— plunge after plunge, and tho sparkling 
waters were heaped with struggling bodies. 
The babo and its mother sank smiling and 
praying; when they came up again, the 
smile remained upon their chiselled lips; 
tho prayer had preceded their souls and 
opened for them the golden gate of heaven. 
They were up there, shining; and still 
men and women battled with death below ; 
it was hard to seo heaven through that veil 
of waters. 
Presently tho glad green banks wero cov¬ 
ered with gastly forms ; and one there, man¬ 
ly and beautiful, laid with a throbless breast, 
while many a heart heat with agony no tears 
might relieve—and many a pale lip murmur¬ 
ed,— 
“ Downing is dead.” 
“ God knows what is best for us ;” those 
very fingers, white and dripping with salt 
spray, had hut a few days before written 
those precious words to a dear friend. It 
seemed doubtless best to that good and tal¬ 
ented man, to walk by flowing streams 
wherein tho shadows of bright green leaves 
trembled ; and specks of white clouds float¬ 
ed in azuro. It seemed best to him, roving 
through tho paradise of his garden with ono 
that loved him hanging on his arin. sweet¬ 
ening his pleasures with her smiles. It 
seemed best, to travel over tho beautiful 
earth, and gather from Flora her richest 
stores with which to bless his fellow men— 
to hold converse with architects, and tho 
gifted of genius; to admire bold and lofty 
scenery, to enjoy the sweets of home—but 
God knew what was best for him. 
And so you who liavo fallen from tho 
splendors of wealth into the deep of pover¬ 
ty ; do not bitterly accuse Providence for 
your misfortune; look up to the hand that 
has smitten and say, God knows what is 
best for us. Mother, weeping above your 
dead babe, God know it was best. Do* not 
kiss the little whito hands so passionately; 
they will never be lifted to bring a dark 
shadow upon your soul. 
Mourner, wherever you aro, foel with the 
justly lamented Downing. God knows what 
is best for us.— Olive Branch. 
Gone to Bed. —An eminently holv man 
thus wrote on hearing the death of a child : 
“ Sweet thing, and is he so quickly laid to 
sloop ? Happy he ! Though wo shall have 
no nioro tho pleasure of his lisping and 
laughing, lie shall have no more tho pain of 
crying, nor of being sick, nor of dying.— 
Tell my dear sister, that she is now so much 
more akin to the next world ; and this will 
be quickly passed to us all. John is but 
gone an hour or two to bed, as children used 
to do, and we are very soon to follow. And 
the more we put oft’ the lovo of this present 
world, and all things superfluous, before¬ 
band, wo shall have the less to do when wo 
lie down.” 
Trust. —The only clear blue sky is trust; 
all else is “ the blackness of darkness.” If 
there is a Supreme Power which we can 
trust, our condition is deplorable enough.— 
But every one can trust God; and here we 
run into a safe harbor; and wo need fear 
no evil. “ The Lord redeemeth tho soul of 
his servants; and none of them that trust 
in him shall he desolate.” “The fear of 
man bringeth a snare; hut whoso putteth 
liis trust in the Lord shall he safe.” God is 
our pilot; then let us trust him to guide us 
through tho stormy sea. and no worry, our¬ 
selves about the “shoals,” “sand-bars,” &e. 
The Faithful Wife. —There is nothing 
upon this earth that can compare with the 
faithful attachment of a wife; no creature 
who for the object of her love, is so indo¬ 
mitable, so persevering, so ready to suffer 
and to die. Under the most distressing cir¬ 
cumstances, woman’s weakness becomes 
mighty power; her timidity becomes fear¬ 
less courage; all her shrinking and sinking 
passes away, and her spirit acquires the 
firmness of marble—adamantine firmness 
when circumstances drive her to put forth 
all her onergies under the inspiration of 
her affections.-^- IVebstcr. 
Life has an ultimate purpose. We are 
not appointed to pass through this life, bare¬ 
ly that we may live. Wo are not impelled, 
both by disposition and necessity, to buy 
and sell, barely that wo may get it. There 
is an end in business beyond supply. There 
is an object in the acquisition of wealth be¬ 
yond success. There is a final cause of hu¬ 
man traffic; and that is Virtue 1-— Rev. Oi 
Dewey. 
Tho groat struggles in life are limited to 
moments ; in the drooping of the head upon 
the bosom—in tho pressure of the hand 
upon the brow. 
True joy is a sereno and sober emotion, 
and they are miserably out who take laugh¬ 
ing for rejoicing. 
: 
i 
