MOOTtE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY NEWSPAPER. 
281 
Itscdlantffits. 
COUNTRY HOME. 
Oji I give me a home in the country wide, 
Where the earth comes out as a blushing bride, 
With her buds and (lowers, 
In the bright spring hours, 
Her bridal song ringing, from fresh-leaved trees, 
And melody floats on (he perfumed breeze. 
In summer, a seat in the shady nook, 
And close by the side of a cooling brook, 
Where the violet grows, 
Or the pale swamp rose, 
Fainting and sick, ’neath the sun scorching beam 
Dips her fair petals in the cooling stream. 
Oh I give me a home in the country wide, 
In the golden days of a farmer’s pride, 
W hen his barns are lillod 
From tlie field lie’s tilled, 
And he feels that his yearly task is done, 
Smiling at winter, lie beckons him on. 
Oh I give me a home in the country wide, 
And a seat by the farmer’s wood fireside, 
Where the fire burns bright, 
On a frosty night, 
Where the jest and the song and the laugh are freo, 
Oh 1 the farmer’s home is the home for me. 
Don’t tell me of to-morrow, 
Give me the man who’ll say 
That when a good deed’s to he done, 
Let’s do the deed to-day I 
We may command the present, 
If we act and never wait; 
But repentance is the phantom 
Of the past that corne's too lato 1 
THE GOOD AND ILL OF LIFE. 
The good and ill of human life, are much 
more evenly distributed among mankind, than 
a casual observer or superficial thinker might 
be led to suppose. Where an unusual amount 
of appliances to worldly happiness exists, there 
usually springs up also some fountain of bitter 
waters, that mingle secretly or openly with 
every felicity, and poison the source of every joy. 
The world may envy the position of a man, 
whose whole life and action are a mockery and 
a lie! He paints over the outside with u false 
show of enjoyment, while the inside is as hol¬ 
low and mocking as a sepulchre. How many 
are there within the range of our observation, 
who possess wealth and property, who sport 
their carriages and display an ostentatious 
superiority in all their acts, whose families are 
taught to believe themselves superior to their 
neighbors, and who would no more mingle 
with the mass of their fellow men than they 
would with a race of inferior beings; and yet, 
there are offsetting disadvantages on their own 
part, palpable to all who are not blinded and 
dazzled by tinsel and false show. 
The mother of a rosy, healthy, and beauti¬ 
ful offspring, lives in a cottage and struggles, 
it may be, with poverty, sighs jis she sees the 
children of a rich neighbor whirled by in a 
carriage, or having at their own disposal pony 
and saddle, while her own bright children are 
compelled to trudge on foot; and yet, those 
envied offspring of wealth may be cast in a 
much rougher mould, both of mind and per¬ 
son; may be the inheritors of some hereditary 
disease that robs them of health, and strews 
their couches with thorns. The father may 
lament his inability to give his son any advan¬ 
tages of education better than those afforded 
by the humble Common School of a rural dis¬ 
trict, while the sons of a wealthy neighbor en¬ 
joy all the privileges of the Academy and Col¬ 
lege; and yet he may live to see all those 
superior advantages thrown away, and the 
college graduate sink below the school-boy in 
afterlife. The young man may lament that 
his lot is one of toil, that ten hours of each day 
must be spent by him at a laborious trade, 
while an acquaintance is enabled to spend his 
time in ease, supplied with the means by the 
hand of a wealthy and indulgent parent; and 
yet he may live to see that parent removed by 
death, his estate insolvent, and the son thrown 
upon his own resources, without the uecessary 
training to obtain creditably the means of his 
own support One young lady may sigh for 
the costly laces and ornaments of another, her 
elegant home, expensive piano, luxurious living, 
and crowd of admirers; and yet be herself as 
much superior both in mind and person as is 
possible in the two opposite scales of humani¬ 
ty. She may live to see the envied one the 
wife of an unkind husband who married her 
for her wealth and for nothing else, while her 
own more humble lot is in after life blessed 
with domestic felicity. 
The Deity has not been unmindful of his 
creatures, and mingles in all their cups both 
pleasure and pain. While he gives to one 
more outward appearances of enjoyment, he 
insures to him also corresponding trials. It is 
an unsafe standard to measure happiness by 
external show. The depths of the human 
heart, the internal life of the man is capable of 
misery and enjoyment that the outward world 
knows not of; and if we could read the secret 
history of any two individuals, the lot of the 
less promising to the external observer, would 
be found not unfrequently to be much the 
happier of the two. All men should strive to 
ameliorate their owu condition with a cheer¬ 
ful acquiescence in what falls to their lot; but 
to look upon the advantages of others grudg- 
iugly, is both wickedness and folly. 
MISUNDERSTANDINGS. 
Much unhappiness is occasioned in families, 
not unfrequently leading to total alienation, 
from misunderstandings based upon very slight 
foundations. Especially is this the case where 
the members have become partially separated, 
and intercourse thereby in a measure inter¬ 
rupted, so as to prevent any ready and willing 
explanation. An action misconstrued, an un¬ 
intentional affront offered, a thoughtless ex¬ 
pression made, an oversight on the part of one 
committed, which is taken by another as evi¬ 
dence of a loss of interest or of kindly regard, 
becomes a secret stumbling block between 
members of a family, who through all Iheir 
early years would have readily sacrificed their 
lives in behall of each other; molehills grow 
into mountains, abrupt with precipices, and 
crowned with perpetual frost, which interposer 
impassable barriers between hearts full to over¬ 
flowing with every genial sympathy. 
.Such unhappy affairs, having their founda¬ 
tions originally in nothing, or at least in inci¬ 
dents so slight that both parties are ashamed 
to confess the cause even to themselves, are 
more frequent than is generally supposed. Let 
a family of children who live in harmony, in 
the exercise of every trait of brotherly and 
sisterly affection, be told that a time will come 
in after life when other ties, other connections, 
other interests, pursuits, pleasures, and pains, 
will unloose the cords that bind them to each 
other in such apparently indissoluble bonds, 
and they will be apt to exclaim in indignation, 
“ Are thy servants dogs, that they should do 
this great thing?” 
The natural course of events must separate 
families must dissolve fraternal ties, in order 
to give room to others, if possible, of a tender¬ 
er and more enduring nature; but in that 
transformation, especial care ought to be taken 
that no element ol discord be permitted to in¬ 
tervene between the original and the new rela¬ 
tion. In the close connection, for instance, 
" liich certainly ought to exist between parties 
that enter into the conjugal ties, many defects 
of character will likely be hidden from each 
other which are apparent to a less blinded 
vision; and a brother may feel a tinge of self¬ 
ish pain, or a sister receive a slight shock of 
wounded sensibility, that the other turns from 
them to the husband or the wife, forgetting 
that they themselves will do the same thing. ° 
A little mutual forbearance, a few kindly 
explanations, a determination on both sides to 
do to the other as each would like to be done 
by, will in all these eases, as in every other 
event of human life, remove all difficulties, 
and liable brothers and sisters to go on har- 
moniqu.Jy to the end of life’s uncertain jour¬ 
ney. Let the prayer be acted upon— 
“The mercy I to others show, 
That mercy show to me 
and all trouble of this nature will speedily van¬ 
ish away. Intercourse must of necessity be 
partially interrupted; diverse pursuits, distant 
residences, different degrees of success or fail¬ 
ure, other ties and connections, will greatly in¬ 
terfere with the original close intimacy, but 
what remains may be as tender, as kindly, and 
as fraternal, as that which existed through all 
their earlier years; and that it be such is a 
solemn duty each member of a family owes to 
the memory of their dead parents, to them¬ 
selves, and to each other. 
WHO ARE YOUR ARISTOCRATS! 
Twenty years ago, this one made candles, 
that one sold cheese and butter, another butch¬ 
ered, a fourth carried on a distillery, another 
was a contractor on canals, others were mer¬ 
chants and mechanics. They aie acquainted 
with both ends of society as their children will 
be after them—though it will not do to say so 
out loud! For often you shall find that these 
toiling worms hatch butterflies—and they live 
about a year. Death brings a division of 
property, and it brings new financiers; the old 
gent is discharged, the young gent takes his 
revenues, and begins to travel—toward pov¬ 
erty, which he reaches before death, or his 
children do, if he does not. So that, in fact, 
though there is a sort of moneyed race it is not 
hereditary, it is accessible to all; three good 
seasons of cotton will send a generation of men 
up—a score of years will bring them all down, 
and send their children to labor. The father 
grubs and grows rich—his children strut and 
use tjie money. Their children in turn inherit 
the pride, and go to shiftless poverty; next, 
their children, reinvigorated by fresh plebiau 
blood, and by the smell of the clod, come up 
again. 
Thus society, like a tree, draws its sap from 
the earth, changes it into leaves and blossoms, 
spreads them abroad in great glory, sheds 
them off to fall back to the earth, again to 
mingle with the soil, and at length re-appear 
in new dress and fresh garniture. 
The best part of human qualities is the ten¬ 
derness and delicacy of feeling in little mat¬ 
ters, the desire to soothe and please others— 
minutai of the social virtues. Some ridicule 
these feminine attributes, which are left out of 
many men’s natures; but 1 have known tlie 
brave, the intellectual, the eloquent, to possess 
tlie these gentle qaa.iir.ies; the braggart, the 
weak, never! Benevolence und feeling enno¬ 
ble the most trilling actions. 
No man has a right to do as he pleases, ex¬ 
cept he pleases to do right. 
REVERIE OF THE CIIURUII SEXTON. 
“Splendid day! We’ll have quite a turn 
out. There’s nothing like sunshine to draw an 
audience. 1’ts better than all the popular 
preachers that were ever born. Oh! there’s 
my memorandum book; I’d like to have for¬ 
gotten it, and if them directions hadn’t been 
tended to, most like 1 should have lost my 
place. Let’s see—[ Fakes out a memorandum 
and reads:] 
“By orders of Judge R., the woman who 
squints and eats crandaman seeds is not to be 
put in the seat in front of him. 
By order of Squire B., the young man who 
ogles his daughter and wears plaid pants, is to 
be put somewhere on the other side of the 
church. 
By order of the wealthy Miss Prudence 
Prim, the young man whose clothes smell of 
cigars and brandy, shall be set behind her. 
The request of A., a mechanic, that stran¬ 
gers be not shown into his pew—to be attend¬ 
ed to if convenient. 
Quite a chapter anyhow. But people are 
beginning to streak in. There’s two young 
women wailing. Common sort of folks I guess, 
gentility don’t come quite so early as Uiis.— 
‘Have a seat, marm?’ She with a low bow, 
1 If you please, sir.’ No matter, politeness is a 
cheap article, it don't cost nothing. So here 
goes the two women into one of the back wall 
pews. Here’s two more birds of the same 
feather; woolen shawls, straw bonnets and cot¬ 
ton gloves; wall pew, second from the door; 
food enough in all conscience. 
Ah! there’s a bride. Satin velvet and 
white kids; fine broadcloth and white vest— 
‘Shall I have the pleasure of showing yourself 
and lady some seats?’ They must have some 
first-rate seats, for they are evidently some¬ 
body. What a difference there is in folks? 
Now there’s a dress-maker and a school-mis¬ 
tress, nobodies. Back seats good enough. 
Two young lawyers—somebodies; I must find 
a seat in the middle aisle. A broken-down 
minister, coat rather seedy, cravat rather coarse 
—nobody—side aisle. Six fashionable board¬ 
ing school girls—somebodies—middle aisle, if 
possible. Rouged cheeks, but a splendid silk 
cloak—somebody—middle aisle. An appren¬ 
tice boy, decent looking, but a nobody—side 
aisle. 
Who’ll say I arn’t a judge of human nature? 
Don’t I know who a man is the minute I see 
him? 
Now there’s one of our seedy coated old 
fellows coming. Don’t I set him down as a 
nobody, and won’t he be glad to get any kind 
of a seat? I’ll show folks that 1 understand 
my business. Have a seat, sir? 
Confound my ill luck. Just as I was put¬ 
ting him into one of the poorest seats in the 
house, along comes Judge B., who spying him, 
comes up and says lie, ‘Ah, how d'ye do, Gov¬ 
ernor B? Take a seat with me, sir; my wife 
will rejoice to meet you.’ Shaking hands with 
the seedy coat he looked daggers at me, and 
I’ll bet a fourpeuce l : ve lost my place. Who’d 
have thought that the old fellow was an ex- 
Governor. But. that comes of lookCg as meek 
w a school-master, and drfessfc^ Hfcr-a wood- 
sawyer! Why don’t folks as ought to, hold 
up their heads and be somebody ?”—Boston 
True Flag. 
RUDE AND CRUDE OBSERVATIONS. 
None of us likes the crying of another per 
son’s baby. 
The fire that “ went out ” has returned. 
Recommend to your children virtue; that 
alone can make them happy, not gold. 
“I won’t” is woman’s ultimatum. 
No man knows when he goes to law, or gets 
iuto a cab, what he will have to pay on gettimr 
out of it. 
Red tape is the legal chalk with which a 
lawyer ruddles his sheep. 
If we all had wiudows to our breasts, what 
a demand there would be for blinds! 
When a man has been “ drinking like a fish,’ 
it is “ the salmon ” always that is to blame. 
Truth, like London Pure Milk, lives certain¬ 
ly at the bottom of a well. 
Years are the milestones which tell us the 
distance we have traveled, but it is rarely that 
women count them. 
Conversation was hip for a long time, until 
it was discovered in a bag of filberts. 
Some persons are fond of “ opening their 
minds” to yon as if it were a dirty linen bag— 
only to let you see the foul things that can 
drop out of it. 
Women, when they talk about “ a good fig¬ 
ure,” must mean the figure R, for that is the 
figure which is most, pulled in at the middle. 
The dissipatious that persons resort to, to 
drown care, are like the curtains that children 
in bed pull around them to keep out the dark. 
The bread of repentance we eat, is often 
made of the wild oats we sow in our vouth. 
THE BOY AND THE BRICK. 
» A roy hearing his father say “Twas a poor 
rule that would not work both ways,” said: “If 
father applies this rule to his work, I will test 
it in my play.” 
So setting up a row of bricks, three or four 
inches apart, he tipped over tlie first, which 
striking the second, caused it to fall on the 
third, and so on through the whole course, un¬ 
til all the brick lay prostrate. 
“ Well,” said the boy, “each brick has knock¬ 
ed down his neighbor which stood u ext to 
him; 1 only tipped one. Now I will raise one 
and see if he will raise his neighbor. I will 
see if raising one will raise the rest.” He look¬ 
ed in vain to see them rise. 
“ Here, father,” said the boy, “ is a poor 
rule; ’twill not work both ways. They'knock 
each other down, but will not raise each other 
up.” 
“My son,” said the father, “bricks and 
mankind are alike, made of day, active in 
knocking each other down, but uot disposed 
to help each other up. When men fall 
they love company; but when they rise they 
love to stand alone, like yonder brick, and see 
others prostrate below them.” 
EQUESTRIAN EXERCISE FOR LADIES. 
CONDUCTED BY A-E. 
TRUE LOVELINESS. 
BY CHARLE8 SWAIN. 
She who thinks a noble heart 
Better than a noble mien— 
Honors virtue more than art, 
Though ’tis less in fashion seen— 
Whatsoe’er her fortune be, 
She’s the bride—the wife—for me. 
She who deems that inward grace 
Farsurpasses outward show, 
She who values less the face 
Than that cuar.m the soul can throw- 
Wliatsoe’er her fortune be, 
She’s the bride—the wife—for me. 
She who knows the heart requires 
Something moie than lips of dew— 
That when love’s brief rose expires, 
Love itself dies with it too— 
Whatsoe'er her fortune be. 
She’s the bride—the wife—for me. 
[For Moore’s Rural New-Yorker.] 
FRIENDSHIP. 
TnE first law of friendship is sincerity; and 
he who violates this first law, will soon find 
himsell destitute of what he so erringly seeks 
to gain; for the deceitful heart of such an one 
will soon betray itself, and feel the contempt 
due to insincerity. 
The world is so full of selfishness, that true 
friendship is seldom found; yet it is often 
| sought for paltry gain by the base and design¬ 
ing. Behold that toiling miser, with his ill-got 
and worthless treasures ; his soul is never 
moved by the hallowed influence of the sacred 
boon ol friendship, which renews again on 
j earth lost Lden’s faded bloom, and flings hope’s 
halcyon halo over the wastes of life. The en¬ 
vious man, he, too, seeks to gain the applause 
of others for an unholy usage, by which he 
may usurp a seat of pre-eminence for himself. 
Self-love, the spring of motion, acts upon his 
| soul. 
All are fond of praise, and many are dis¬ 
honest in the use of means to obtain it; hence 
it is often difficult to distinguish between true 
and false friendship—for 
“ Disguise ro near the truth doth seem to run, 
’Tis doublful whom to seek or whom to shun ; 
Nor know we when to spare or when to strike. 
Our friends an : foes they seem so much alike.” 
Newfane, N. Y., August, 1854. NOVICE. 
[Written for Moore’s Rural New- Yorker.] 
OUR BABY. 
Dm you ever see such a baby? He is a very 
peculiar baby,— very. It is true, every one 
does not see his good qualities as we do; and 
some even dared to speak of his “ big ears,” 
“ large and ill-shaped mouth,” but this all arises 
from envy; or it shows their bad taste or want 
of discernment. His perseverance is also pe¬ 
culiar. If he wants any thing he must have it, 
and we always give him what he wants, for the 
sake of peace; for you know it would not an¬ 
swer to thwart or cross him—he is too young 
for that. “ It would break his spirits.” 
His manners, too, are peculiar. It is true 
they are not exactly what they should be, nor 
what we expect they will be. But he is too 
young to be trained, you know—only two 
years old—and we expect he will by-and-by 
see his own faults, if he has any, and correct 
them, or grow out of them. If he does not, it 
will then be time for us to try t.o set these 
things right, and then you know his improve¬ 
ment will be the more manifest. He has also 
many other peculiarities, such as none but pa¬ 
rents cau see; but as you will probably never 
see either him or them, I will not trouble you 
farther. x 
A nAPPY LAND. 
A writer from Florence says that in some 
respects Italy is the most delightful couutry in 
the world. It is a land, for example, where 
house-cleaning, washing-day. and all other such 
interesting epochs in the American calendar 
are unknown. This exemption from the great 
domestic evil of house-cleaning, is owing not 
so much to a love of dirt, its to the pecul¬ 
iar construction of the buildings. Thus, for 
instance, when the ceilings or walls are fres¬ 
coed, or the latter covered with silk or paper 
hangings, there is no need of white-washing; 
and where panels and doors are of marble or 
oak, there is no necessity for scouring paint.— 
The ceilings and walls are kept clean by long- 
handled brushes. The carpets there are fast¬ 
ened to iron rings in the floor by means of 
large hooks iu the binding, and can thus be 
raised and let down again as noiselessly and 
easily as bed-covers. We would recommend 
the adoption of this to American house-keep¬ 
ers. In Italy, a large portion of the house¬ 
work, such as washing, cleaning windows, &c., 
is done at an early hour in the morning, before 
the family are up for tlie day; and so quietly 
is it accomplished, that to a stranger it seems 
as if the invisible wand of some mighty ma¬ 
gician had changed all in the night. 
The garden of the heart is capable of pro¬ 
ducing, under good culture, everything beauti¬ 
ful in humanity, while neglected, it is choked 
up with every kind of rank and poisonous 
weed. 'Fhe gentle hand of woman is best 
adapted to the Disk of sowing good seed and 
rearing beautiful flowers. 
The most experienced physicians agree that 
horseback exercise is beneficial to all, but 
more especially so for invalids and sedentaries. 
The gentle motion of the chest, the increase of 
respiration, the gradual shifting of every drop 
of blood in the arteries, the fresh, buoyant 
wings given to the spirits during an hour’sgal- 
lop on a clear spring morning, must render it 
an antidote for nine-tenths of mortal maladies. 
We believe that equestrian exercise, under a 
| judicious direction, is, of itself, if timely com¬ 
menced, a cure for consumption. There is no 
civilized country on the globe, where physical 
education is so much neglected as in America; 
the consequence of which is, that our males 
are demi-dwarfs, and our females little more 
than house plants. The English, physically, 
the most beautiful nation on the earth, are as¬ 
siduous in this department of education. They 
would think a child’s education incomplete 
without a thorough knowledge of horseman¬ 
ship. One of the most interesting pictures 
that the pencil of an artist ever drew, is a fine¬ 
ly formed and graceful woman mounted on a 
spirited charger, who, proud of his fair burden, 
curbs his glossy neck, and spurns the earth as 
if it were not good enough for him to stand 
upon. It has been said that a lady’s position 
on a horse is dangerous. We do not think so. 
Every position is either dangerous or awkward 
until we learn to manage ourselves in it A 
lady, with proper care and training, can get the 
management of a horse so completely that he 
will be put to his last trump to throw her. In 
evidence, we may name Fanny Kemble. A 
few hints and practice are all she needs. The 
left foot should be placed in the stirrup a little 
above the second joint of the great toe. The 
reins should be brought up between the fingers 
of the left hand, and firmly held between the 
thumb and first, finger. The left shoulder 
should be brought well forward, and the right 
hand, holding the whip, fall gracefully by the 
right side. The pommel of the saddle should 
not be held by the right hand. The fair rider 
should throw her shoulders back, aud give as 
much expansion to the chest as possible, and 
keep as nearly as she can the momentum of 
her horse. If the steed springs suddenly to 
the left, and she agrees cot with his direction, 
she gets a counter motion and falls to the 
right, which is neither pleasant nor graceful.— 
Home Journal. 
YOUNG WOMEN. 
Very young ladies cannot be said to have 
any conversation. Experience, knowledge of 
society, acquirements gradually and impercep¬ 
tibly accumulated, are requisite before a per¬ 
son can be properly said to converse. The 
female character is, from its attributes, peculi¬ 
arly under the coutrol of circumstunces, and 
the influence of other and stronger natures.— 
There cannot be a more momentous condition 
than that of a young woman under twenty. A 
fool may win her admiration; and her charac¬ 
ter becomes, for a time, f ivolous. Many a 
noble spirit in woman has been checked by an 
ill-placed first auectiou, but if she be fortunate 
enough to place an early dependence upon a 
worthy object, the tenor of her life is deter¬ 
mined. It is observable that in youth women 
cannot understand friendship towards men. 
G iris never stop at that, point. There is always 
a tinge of love in their sentiments towards in¬ 
timate associates of the other sex. Hence the 
dangerous ascendency acquired by their male 
instructors, and by other less attractive and 
less meritorious individuals, over women who 
have been even delicately nurtured. 
■— -« • «» ■ >— -- 
THE TRUE WOMAN. 
The true woman, for whose ambition a hus¬ 
band’s love and her children’s adoration are 
sufficient, who applies her military instincts to 
the discipline of her household, and whose leg¬ 
islative faculties exercise themselves in making 
laws for her nursery; whose intellect has field 
enough for her in communion with her hus¬ 
band, and whose heart asks no other honors 
than his love and admiration; a woman who 
does not think it a weakness to attend to her 
toilet, and who does not disdain to be beauti¬ 
ful; who believes iu the virtue of glossy hairs 
and well-fitting gowns, and who eschews rents 
and ravelled edges, slip-shod shoes and auda¬ 
cious make-ups; a woman who speaks low aud 
does uot speak much; who is patient and gen¬ 
tle, intellectual aud industrious; who loves 
more than she reasons, and yet does not love 
blindly; who never scolds and rarely argues, 
but who adjusts with a smile; a woman who is 
the wife we have all dreamed of once in our 
lives, and who is the mother we still worship 
in the backward distance of the past; such a 
woman as this does more for human nature, 
and more for woman’s cause than all the sea- 
captains, barristers, judges and members of 
Parliament put together—God-given aud God- 
blessed as she is!— Dickens. 
Happiness not in Station Alone. —There 
is one experience, gentlemen, to which the his¬ 
tory of my various changes in life has peculiar¬ 
ly, and, I will even say, has painfully exposed 
me—and that is, how little a man gains, or 
rather, indeed, how much he loses iu the happi¬ 
ness ofuatural and healthful enjoyment, by pass¬ 
ing from a narrower to a wider, and what some 
may call, a more elevated sphere. There is 
not room in the heart of man for more than a 
certain number of objects; and he is therefore 
placed far more favorably for the development 
of all that pleasure which lies in the kind and 
friendly affections of our nature, when the inti¬ 
macy of his regards is permitted to rest on a 
few, than when, bustled through an intermina¬ 
ble variety of persons and things, each individ¬ 
ual can have but a slender hold upon the mem¬ 
ory, and a hold as slender upon the emotions. 
— Dr. Chalmers. 
The water that flows from a spring does no 
eongeal in the winter. And those sentiment 
of trieudship which flow from the heart canno 
be frozen by adversity. 
