MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER» AN AGRICULTURAL, LITERARY AND FAMILY NEWSPAPER. 
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PANICS IN SCHOOL. 
Thu active temperament, and lively imagi¬ 
nations of children, render them peculiarly sus¬ 
ceptible to pleasurable or painful emotions. 
Every one who ha3 had the opportunity to 
teach, and has studied as he ought to do, the 
phases of the human mind developed under his 
own guardianship and instruction, cannot fail 
to have observed the readiness with which any 
incident, ludicrous or sad, makes its impression 
upon his pupils. The amusing mistake of a 
blundering reader will instantaneously set the 
whole school in a roar, in which the teacher 
himself, unless he have more vinegar in his 
composition than is meet or proper for his 
calling, will not uufrequently be compelled to 
join. 
Let the school be enjoying themselves in a 
boisterous game at noontide, and, at the mo¬ 
ment when shout and laughter are at the high¬ 
est, let a funeral train approach ; instantly all 
merriment cease 3 , every shout is hushed, and 
the children stand in mute and respectful atti¬ 
tude, until the mournful spectacle has passed 
beyond their view. It needs no previous re¬ 
quest from the teacher in order to render them 
decorous in the presence of death. The homage 
of the human heart to the KiDg of Terrors is 
much more readily acknowledged in childhood 
than in riper years, after the heart has grown 
callous to admonition and warning. Let a 
lame beggar, a poor emigrant, or a fugitive 
from oppression, pass a school-house door, and 
there are very few who would be disposed to 
scoff or deride, while there are many ready to 
pity and deplore. 
But this susceptibility to impressions is 
frequently attended with danger, and in more 
than one instance has been followed by most 
lamentable consequences. We allude particu¬ 
larly to panics in school-rooms, of which an 
instance occurred a few days since at Detroit, 
and is thus described by the Tribune, publish¬ 
ed in that city : 
“ Some time during the day one of the pupils 
in the department taught by Miss Abbott was 
attacked by a tit of epilepsy or convulsions of 
some kind. The scholars in the same room 
supposed the lad was dying, took alarm and 
made a rush for the door, some crying, some 
hallooing, and all so frightened as to be wholly 
beyond control. No effort could check them 
in their headlong flight, and some of them who 
could not find ready egress through the door, 
jumped from the windows. The noise created 
by the scholars of Miss A.’s school communi¬ 
cated the panic to all the others, some thinking 
the building was on fire, some that it was fall¬ 
ing in, some that an outrage of one kind or 
another was being committal, and some influ¬ 
enced solely by a vague apprehension of dan¬ 
ger. All was ono scene of wild disorder and 
confusion, aud all were seeking to escape from 
the building as from some appalling danger. 
The attempts of the teachers to allay their 
fears or to check their flight by fastening the 
doors, was wholly unavailing. They found 
their way out by some means, rushed headlong 
down stairs, many tumbling from top to bot¬ 
tom, and into the yard in front of the building. 
Cool air and the escape from the house soon 
restored them to a sense of security, and they 
were finally induced to return to their studies.” 
The catastrophe at Brooklyn a few years 
since, which resulted from a similar cause, (the 
teacher, however, being the one attacked by 
the fit,) and in which a number of pupils lost 
their lives, is fresh in the recollections of all. 
There were more than a thousand pupils in 
the school, and the rush was so great that the 
bannisters of the stairs gave way, precipitating 
the children into the hall below, where they lay 
piled upon, and smothering each other, until 
extricated by the police and the people who 
were hastily summoned to the terrible scene. 
A.great deal depends at such a moment 
upon the presence of mind of the teacher, who, 
in the outset, before the panic becomes over, 
mastering, can soothe the excited minds of the 
pupils, aud calm their fears. Not many years 
since, the ceiling around the chimney of a pub¬ 
lic school-house was discovered by the teacher 
to be on fire, aud the flames had made consid¬ 
erable headway. Without showing the'least 
alarm or even discomposure, he quietly told 
the scholars to put up their books, as he was 
going to give them a vacation for the remain¬ 
der of the day. The pupils were somewhat sur¬ 
prised, but hastily aud joyously complied— 
whereupon he dismissed them quietly seat by 
’seat, and then, after the last one had left the 
house, he gavo the alarm of fire ! The flames 
were extinguished with the utmost difficulty 
but the crowded school room was spared a 
scene of confusion fearful to contemplate. 
In the construction of country school-houses, 
where all are seated in one room, and that upon 
the ground floor, easy of access by every win¬ 
dow as well as the door, no special care need 
be taken to furnish means of escape in case of 
sudden panic ; but in city institutions of two, 
and sometimes of three stories, where pupils 
occupy many rooms, and are numbered by the 
thousand, one of the first requisites ought to 
be broad and ample halls and stairways, strong 
ballustrades and bannisters, and every pre¬ 
caution adopted to meet the exigencies of sud¬ 
den press and panic. 
HOW TO LEARN. 
We once knew an old laywer, who, when a 
new student presented himself, put Blackstone 
into the young man’s hands. “ Read that for 
a year,” he was accustomed to say, “ and then 
I’ll give you something else.” To spend a 
year over a single treatise, comprised in but | 
four volumes, seemed at first but a waste 
of time. The student, if a quick reader, had 
generally finished the book in a month. But 
the preceptor was invariably inexorable.— 
“ You think you know it, do you ?” he would 
say sarcastically. “ Well, what is the rule in 
Shelly’s case ?" Perhaps the youth had been 
fortunate enough to notice and rememember 
the abstruse distinction taken on that famous 
trial. But, even if he had, the old lawyer was 
sure to trip him up in five minutes, on some¬ 
thing else. Back to Blackstone the student 
went, at last aware of his deficiencies, and 
read, and noted, and analysed for, perhaps, a 
couple of months more. Then he returned to 
the old story that there was nothing left to be 
learned. But the thorough old common-law 
advocate soon caught him again. When 
Blackstone at last was finished, it was finished, 
as it were, for life. Every line almost was 
fixed for ever in the student’s mind. He 
could look back, mentally, over the four vol¬ 
umes, as a spectator gazes from a mountain 
top over a wide champaign country, spread 
beneath him, and map out the whole without 
a single omission or blunder. He had a life 
long clue to the labyrinth. 
The old lawyer's plan of teaching law is the 
only correct plan of teaching anything. Boys 
or girls educated on a similar thorough system, 
at least know what they are talking about, 
when they talk at all. They have acquired 
discipline of mind, and clear ideas with it. If 
they converse, they speak to the point. If 
they are called, in the duties of life, to decide 
in some novel combination of circumstances, 
they think accurately, because they know im¬ 
mediately where to look for the keystone of 
the problem. The vast field of knowledge is 
no longer a labyrinth to them, for the clue to it 
is a disciplined mind and a capacity to study 
properly. It is never difficult to recognize 
such persons, even in a five minutes conversa¬ 
tion, They are distinguishable at a glance, 
from those imperfectly educated individuals of 
either sex, who, to use a simile of Lord Bol- 
ingbroke, rattle on as meaninglessly as alarm 
clocks that have been sprung prematurely.— 
Ledger. 
ABSENTEEISM. 
Some plan must be invented to break it up. 
The ingenious teacher will try different expe¬ 
dients till he finds the successful one. The 
following circular with the blanks filled, sent 
to parents of absentees, has been found very 
useful. It is used by the teachers of the 
Quincy School, Boston: 
Mr.- 
Your Son has been 
absent from school days. Will you 
please send him to school again as soou as 
you can, giving him a written excuse, stating 
whether he was absent by your permission.— 
All absence operates badly on the school. It 
necessarily checks the progress of the absent 
scholars, and always retards, more or less, the 
advancement of those who attend regularly. 
It is earnestly hoped that you will allow 
nothing, but causes over which you have no 
control, to keep your son from a regular at¬ 
tendance at school. Very respectfully, 
Boston, 185 Teacher. 
— Com. School Journal. 
SCHOOLS IN AMERICA. 
I can positively affirm, from personal ob¬ 
servation, that, in point of general discipline, 
the American schools greatly excel any I have 
ever seen in Great Britain. In Canada and 
in the States, every suitable provision is made 
for the purpose of decency—a thing generally 
neglected in , the parish and burg schools of 
Scotland. I was much pleasat with the ar¬ 
rangements in the American schools to pre¬ 
vent disorder, or improper interference one 
with another among the pupils. All are at 
small desks, not more than two together in 
rows; so that the teacher can conveniently 
reach every seat in the school. It is custom¬ 
ary likewise, to cause the pupils to enter slow¬ 
ly and decorously, instead of being suffered, 
as I observe, even in some of the most preten¬ 
tious schools of Edinburg, to rush out like so 
many wild animals.— Wm. Chambers. 
Self Reliance. —There is a time in every 
man’s education when he arrives at the con¬ 
viction that envy is ignorance ; that imitation 
is suicide ; that he must take himself for bet¬ 
ter, for worse, as his portion ; that though the 
wide universe is full of good, no kernel of 
corn can come to him but through his toil be¬ 
stowed on that plot of ground which is given 
him to till. The power which resides in him 
is new in nature, and none but he knows what 
that is which he can do, nor does he know un¬ 
til he has tried. Not for nothing one face, 
one character, one fact makes much impres¬ 
sion on him, and another none.— R. W. Em- 
County Superintendents. — The expres¬ 
sion of public opinion, through the press, 
sterns to be strongly favorable to the restora¬ 
tion of County Superintendents of Common 
Schools. It is stated that the State Superin¬ 
tendent of Public Instruction regards such a 
measure as highly desirable. It is an unde¬ 
niable fact that the officers in question did 
much to improve the condition of our schools 
during the period of their operations, and we 
hope to see the office re-established.— Arner. 
It cannot be too deeply impressed on the 
mind that application is the price to be paid 
for mental acquisition, and that it is as absurd 
to expect learning without it as to hope for a 
harvest where we have not sowal the seed. 
•aJMratjf Jffemgs. 
THE GEYSERS 
ICELAND AND ITS INTERNAL FIRES. 
Iceland is one of the most remarkable 
islands on the globe. It is situated in the 
Frigid zone, North West of Europe, and 
covers an immense area. The island is of 
volcanic origin, and is composed of vast and 
rocky peaks covered with perpetual snow, in¬ 
tersected by deep valleys, through which flow 
large rivers fed by the melting snows of the 
highlands. Many of the peaks are volcanoes 
in frequent eruption, the most remakable of 
which is Mount Hecla. The island has been 
long known to the world, and from the earliest 
times has been subject to calamities from pes¬ 
tilence, famine and fire. The small pox once 
or twice in history visited the islaud decima¬ 
ting the people ; and since the year 1001 not 
less than sixty-five volcanic eruptions have 
taken place, sixteen of which were of Mount 
Hecla alone. In the year 1783 the volcano ot 
Skaptaafell Gokell burst out in a calamitous 
eruption, filling vast riverk with its lava, and 
for the space of a whole year covering the 
island with smoke and ashes. A famine was 
the consequence, cattle, horses, and sheep died 
off, and eleven thousaud of the inhabitants, or 
about one-fourth, perished. 
But the most remarkable feature of the 
island is its boiling springs, or Geysers, 
spouting forth water at the highest tempera¬ 
ture and in immense volumes. The Geysers 
are situated in the western part of the island, 
in a small plain sixteen miles north of the 
village of Skalholt. The siliceous deposites 
of the Great Geyser, of which the above 
ELECTRO-MAGNETISM, 
Everybody is familiar with the common 
magnet. There is scarce a boy in town or 
country, but has seen it in practical operation 
in some form or other ; in the pilot-house of a 
vessel, where its trembling finger gives all the 
efficacy to the marine compass ; in the elabo¬ 
rate theodolite of the engineer, who runs the 
transit line as a base for the divisions of a State, 
or traces for the master of construction the 
track of a future railroad; in the more com¬ 
mon instrument of the surveyor, who fixes the 
landmarks and drives the stakes that separate 
our city lots and country farms. 
The existence and properties of the magnet 
have long been known and used in nautical and 
scientific instruments, and by many learned 
men its close connection with electricity was 
suspected ; but no absolute proof of that con¬ 
nection was obtained until the year 1819, 
when Professor CErster, a native of Denmark, 
made the discovery that currents of electricity 
were capable of inducing magnetism, and 
Professor Faraday, of England, obtained 
electrical sparks from the magnet. These ex¬ 
periments proved the identity of the subtle 
agent in the two classes of phenomena. 
The discoveries since that period have been 
remarkable, and bid fair to reach results still 
more astounding. Among the numerous dis¬ 
coveries which led at length to the construc¬ 
tion of the magnetic telegraph, it was ascertain¬ 
ed that if a galvanic current is passed through 
a wire coiled up in the form of a screw, called 
a helix, and then a piece of iron or steel placed 
within the coil, it becomes magnetic. The 
latter acquires the property permanently, and 
retains its magnetic character after the current 
has ceased to flow or the steel is withdrawn 
from the helix ; but the iron is a magnet only 
so long as the galvanic current is passing, and 
leaves it the moment the circuit is broken. 
This evanescent magnetic property of iron 
is the graud feature on which the telegraph is 
based. The Connecting wire is coiled around 
a small bar of soft iron, bent in the form of 
the letter U, just above the points of which is 
placed a small lever with a cross-bar on the 
end nearest the magnet, so that when that end 
of the lever is depressed, the cross-bar rests 
upon the points of the magnet. If now the 
current of electricity be passed through the 
coil or helix, the U-shaped piece of iron be¬ 
comes instantaneously maguetized, and draws 
down by its attraction the cross bar upon its 
points. As that end of the lever descends, the 
other rises correspondingly, and imprints a 
dot or mark upon a ribbon of paper passing at 
the time. AYe will give hereafter a more defi¬ 
nite description of the instrument. 
For Moorc’a Rnral New-Yorker. 
THE STRICKEN FAMILY. 
Fiercely the storm rages without — the 
wind moans around the corners of the house, 
and sighs through the leafless boughs of the 
old maple that stands a sad and solitary guar¬ 
dian of the windows ; and yonder, dim in the 
distance, up against the sky, stand those ever¬ 
lasting hills, capped with the snows of winter. 
An hour ago and the air was filial with falling 
flakes of feathery snow, that now lie covering 
the ground as far as the eye can reach. Here 
and there the roystering wind has swept the 
snowy covering from off the little mound, and 
earth, bare and bleak, looks out. The village 
qjp ICELAND grave-yard, yonder on the hill-top, its white 
marble slabs standing out in clear relief against 
the dark back-ground of the pines beyond, 
cut is a representation, has tormed a basin seems to invite the storms and howling blast, 
over fifty feet in diameter, nearly circular, AYinter, all cheerless, reigns without, and 
and surrounded by a mound which rises desolation reigns within ; for a lamb from the 
from the plain and slopes off in the shape of flock, and a flock of only two, the darling pet 
a truncated cone. The basin is four or five of the family, the bright-eyed, fair-haired boy, 
feet deep, in the centre of which is a pipe or whose joyous laugh even now seems to echo 
tube twelve feet in diameter and seventy-five through the silent apartment, lies upon a sick, 
feet deep. perhaps upon a dying couch. Those large, 
The Geyser is quiescent at intervals ot sev- round eyeshave lost all their wonted brilliancy, 
eral hours, when a sound begins to be heard and the eye lids refuse to cover them. The 
from beneath which shakes the ground, and smile upon his face, the music of his voice, 
gradually increases until it resembles the ex- and the loud laugh, so full of joyousness and 
plosion of cannon. Suddenly there rises from glee, fl // ) a u a re gone, and death seems settling 
the orifice a jet of boiling water mingled with on that fair young forehead. The breath 
vapor in immense volumes, which is projected comes and goes reluctantly, and the blood 
upward to the height of more than ninety hurries rapidly through the thin, small veins, 
feet, and falls on all sides in a shower of rain ’Tig hard to think that he must die so young, 
and spray. The sky is filled with clouds of with the dew of childhood still fresh upon him! 
steam, and the basin overflows its brim, the The Doctor is here, and, good, kind man, ha3 
waters scattering themselves over the plain.— done all he can to relieve the little sufferer.— 
After several of these tremendous eruptions Groups have collected about the room, and 
have taken place in quick succession, the sadly, faintly, it is whispered that the light of 
noise ceases, the water in tlm basin flows back to-morrow’s sun will not awake the sleeper, 
into the orifice, leaving the cavity dry and 0, who shall describe the agony which this 
hot, which remains in this state until another fearful truth wrings from the parents hearts. 
similar manifestation takes place. 
Volcanic fires are without doubt the cause 
Draw the veil over such sorrow as this, for the 
“ heart knoweth its own bitterness.” How 
of this remarkable phenomenon. The vapor awful is the stillness! Kind friends watch by 
is probably repressed by au immense weight the bed-side, while the long dark hours of night 
of superincumbent water until its expansive drag slowly along. 
force becomes so great as to overcome all re- Morning comes again, anda3 the long slant- 
sistance, and hence the results described. The ing rays of the sun enter the uncurtained 
Icelanders turn the hot springs to an ecouom- windows, they look calmly in upon the meek 
ical account, and you see in the picture a face of the dead. The light that will again 
party cooking their dinner over one of the dawn upon that little sleeper, will be the light 
escape pipes to Pluto’s steam engine. 
imtjto Ctnm 
MISCELLANEOUS ENIGMA. 
I am composed of 18 letters. 
My 1, 5, 15, 11, 8, 17 is a champion. 
My 2, 16, 15, 11, 8 is the voice of a horse. 
My 3, 10, 14, 16 means formerly. 
My 4, 16 is a personal pronoun. 
My 6, 10, 16 is a single person. 
My 7, 9, 11, 8, 17 is close. 
My 12, 13, 14, 9, 16, 7, 18 is a company. 
My 8, 15, 5, 11, 16 is a joint. 
My 1, 10, 13, 4 is to understand. 
that gilds the high arches of heaven. The 
toys with which he played, and the clothes he 
wore are collected and placed in his little 
drawer. His little chair is no longer needed, 
and stands in a lone corner of the garret.— 
There’s a vacant place at the table, and a va¬ 
cant place in many hearts. If the departed 
one was dear while living, he is doubly dear 
when dead. 
The time for burial at length arrives, and 
following the hearse, slowly and sadly the 
mourners move on through the wind and 
storm, to the village church. The man of 
God strives to comfort the bereaval, as he 
reads, and endeavors to expound those ever 
memorable words from the Saviour’s own lips 
—“ Suffer little children to come unto me, and 
forbid them not, for of such is the kingdom of 
Heaven.” Remember that, weeping mother, 
My whole is, at present, the cause of much and weep no more. Thy child is waiting thee 
disturbance in the United States, y. b. u. on the far off shores of that “ better land.”— 
Newport, .March 13. One long, lingering look, it is the last, is taken, 
gfp Answer next week. and the “ dust returns to dust.” Sadly the 
-- --- mourners return to their lonely home. *Tho’ 
CHARADE. bereaved, one still lives—and.from many a 
- heart goes up the fervent prayer, that the 
My dawn of life was fair to view, kind “Shepherd ” will temper the wind to the 
Joys came with each succeeding morrow, “shorn lamb. ’ But prayers and tears are un- 
Until, alas ! I met with you; availing. The fearful tragedy but just now 
You turn’d my every joy to sorrow. closed, must be re-enacted. The flower but 
Enchanter fell, behold thy deeds; > st b , uddin S’ 18 ? be ^ ans P laut ^ to those 
My lily-roseate face is clouded, everlasting gardens, where angels walk and 
The flowers I wore are now but weeds, seraphs are the wardens. A few short hours 
In blackness all my beauty shrouded. of suffering, and 
“ There’s one less cherub on the earth, 
Depart, depart—for losing you, But one mare now in Heaven.” 
A brighter day will chase my sadness ; How beautiful even in death j Surely such 
T V°‘ * T th, C°uld a/angcl 
r „, , j, ° . come down to us to-day, it could hardly be 
_ , {Blackwood sMag cmne. mQre beautiful than is the face of that dead 
AN INTERESTING INCIDENT. infant. The smile is upon its lips, and a3 it 
_ lies there, with the arms folded across its 
On the sidewalk in the broad avenue in Al- th ® cal , m r , e P ose ° f . death seems rather 
bany, that leads from the Hudson river to the a gentle slumber. Oh . if it is so beauti- 
Capitol, stood, one day last week, a marked ful on earth ’ how transcendentiy beautiful must 
and remarkable man. He had numbered it be i 11 that world where all is beauty. Again, 
more than four score years, and those years through the wind and storm, the mourners 
were full of honor and usefulness. Age had follow their dead to the grave. One short 
not dimmed liis eye, and had but slightly prayer is said, and there, side by side, the dear 
bowed his manly form. Snow white locks ones sleep. 
crowned and adorned a countenance full of Storm after storm may beat above the 
lo f liwT’ kepjgmty and dignity. A young beads 0 f those young sleepers ; chaplets of wild 
latl, robust, active, and bright as a sunbeam, a v„ . . /I , ,, r , , ,, , 
came along trundling a hand-cart ; I saw him °'' v , ers bc tT y lned about the marble that 
stop to catch a look from the good and great marks thei , r , restin S P !ac f ? bitter tears may 
old man. Immediately he was recognized ; upon their graves; the rose of glad sum- 
words of kindness were spoken, and the mer-time may blossom in beauty over them, or 
friendly hand of the venerable patriarch was the snows of winter cover them, they’ll heed 
CHARADE. 
My dawn of life was fair to view, 
Joys came with each succeeding morrow, 
Until, alas ! I met with you; 
You turn’d my every joy to sorrow. 
Enchanter fell, behold thy deeds ; 
My lily-roseate face is clouded, 
The flowers I wore are now but weeds, 
In blackness all my beauty shrouded. 
Depart, depart—for losing you, 
A brighter day will chase my sadness ; 
Say thy farewell—and soon adieu [a dew) 
Will change my tears to drops of gladness. 
[Blackwood’s Magazine. 
AN INTERESTING INCIDENT. 
extended to him. 
Never shall I forget his graceful and deli¬ 
cate acknowledgment of the coveted recogni¬ 
tion. The little fellow raised his cap, kissed 
them not, for 
“They sleep that long and dreamless sleep, 
From which none ever wake to weep.” 
Sleep on dear departed ones, titl the morn- 
thc hand so kindly offered, made a low bow, b) g 0 f the resurrection, when your sleeping 
and was off in a twinkling, the man was the dl g t shaU be gathered, and re-united with your 
distinguished President of Union College; the , - e 3 , 
boy was a nephew of Louis Kossuth How glorified spirits forever Doubly bereaved and 
charming to see age, distinction, and undis- childless patents . let this truth be your conso- 
nuted eminence, attracting t.n it wolf not. nn i v lation. The “Lord gave, and the Lord hath 
puted eminence, attracting to itself not only 
The “Lord gave, and the Lord hath 
the learned and influential, but the little er- taken away,” and may you be able to add — 
rand boy as he dashes along to do the work of “ blessed be the name of the Lord and may 
his employer. How charming to see children He who never wounds but iu love, bind up 
with such a nice sense of the respect due to your torn and bleeding hearts, and prove to 
advanced age, and exalted virtue.— Alb. Arg. you the truth of the scripture, that “ whom 
. ... the Lord loveth He chasteneth, and scourgeth 
Answer to Miscellaneous Enigma in No. 27 o. eyery SO n whom He receiveth.” 
—Mg dominion ends where that of conscience begins. Bums, N. T., 1855. L A. E. 
‘liMiHiMi 
