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MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY NEWSPAPER 
Poetry l>y Miss Hazard 
For Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
WEALTH AND KNOWLEDGE. 
Enthnsls^tlc but not boisterous. 
Wealth and knowledge are the most powerful 
means of influence exerted in tbe affairs of life. 
Either renders its possessor influential, and enables 
him to wield a force that will overcome almost 
every obstacle. Rut frequently they work con¬ 
jointly, and often play into ouch others hands. 
When they are combined; when great wealth is 
united with vast intellectual acquirements; when 
the coin of the mint, is found joined with the coin 
of the mind, then the power exerted is almost 
irresistable. 
The day has already passed, when great homage 
is paid merely to proud ancestral lineage; when 
no solid metal and broad domains support tbe 
honor of the family name, but pride and poverty 
alone are the heritage. The character of the age 
demands something more substantial, and will not 
bo satisfied with this thread-bare apology of great¬ 
ness. In our own country, the reverence and 
regard paid in other lands to those descended 
from a long line of illustrious ancestry, is not 
known; but instead, the length of purse is idolized 
and its power deeply felt. 
The moralist would teach the Bolemu mockery 
of riches, the vanity of learning, the emptiness of 
fame, and the uncertainly of existence. Ho would 
paint the errors of life, its luxuries and vices, its 
foolish pride, and deceptive pomp, in the most 
glaring colors, and attribute them all to the pos¬ 
session of wealth, or to the vanity often engender¬ 
ed from vast acquisitions of various learning. 
Not in the possession or the use of either lies the 
error, but in the ahnseJ Not all who are blessed 
with wealth or who, by long years of toil, have 
accumulated the riches of the mental world, are 
thus deserving of censure. From them, good to 
mankind rcsnlis. All the pleasures of society, all 
the enjoyments of life, directly or indirectly flow 
therefrom. What but wealth, guided by liberal 
knowledge, sets in operation the great movements 
of the race, and carries them forward to a tri¬ 
umphal completion? In the smallest, as well as 
the greatest affairs of life, money is the mover. 
Knowledge points the way, and money completes 
the undertaking. The one invents, the other per¬ 
forms the work to make the invention available. 
No noble enterprise is ever accomplished without 
the help of both. Their aid is needed in all the 
appliances of life. Not a house is erected, not an 
acre of land tilled, not a ship lautn tied, not a 
bridge built, nor a road constructed, without the 
agencies of wealth and knowledge. 
Let not these be underrated. Let not pinching 
poverty nor piteous ignorance enviously decry a 
more desirable position. Acquire wealth and learn¬ 
ing, hut, honorably and nobly. Hasten not, however, 
to become suddenly rich, for the homely saying of 
the old American philosopher is, "haste makes 
waste," yet steadily and honestly accumulate, for 
iu the getting there is much enjoyment. What 
more adorns the man than a liberally educated 
mind? The wild savage needs not wealth nor 
knowledge. He scorns them. But civilization 
has taken bold of man and lifted him up. Numer¬ 
ous wants have been created, and new sources of 
delight also. Aud these relations of humanity, 
flowing from a generous civilization, require the 
advantages which wealth aud knowledge bring Tor 
their full enjoyment. A. j. e. 
Rochester, Feb., 1857. 
1. Oh! gentle Spring, thou’rt here a-gain, Bright blossoms deck thy fairy train; And in the ru - ral green-wood shade, In dark ravine. 
ng, greet thee now with joyous song; Thy sunshine 
3. When light winds stir the # leafy bow’rs, When silver dew is on the flow’rs, When twilight lingers all a - round, And hush’d to silence 
Thou’st scatter’d fragrance on the breeze, And robed in beauty all the trees; Thou’st chas’d cold winter’s winds.a - way, And cloth’d the earth in verdure 
Bright birds pour forth their varied lays, Streams, brooks and rills n-nite their praise- And when amid thy bow’rs we rove We heai thy soft, soft tones of love, 
Then, then to thee, Oh! gentle Spring, Fresh garlands of the night we’ll bring; And on the fragrant, grassy green We’ll dance to thee, thou Fairy Queen 
some “off hand” questions proposed by the teach¬ 
er, and it will do much to add interest to the les¬ 
son, and at the same time awaken thought in the 
right way, and in the right direction. 
In conclusion, we would say to teachers — 
neither discard nor adopt either method exclu¬ 
sively, but seek rather to combine the two in the 
most judicious manner; ever aiming to promote 
the true intellectual and moral growth of your 
pupils, and so to discipline them that they may- 
come before them. In other words, teach them to 
examine, to investigate, to think, to understand.— 
Conn. School Journal. 
hearts as well as heads. When will the wisdom of 
Paul be forgotten, or the tenderness and love of 
John cease to be venerated ? The memory of Lu¬ 
ther is ever dear, because his heart was tried 
amidst the threats and superstitions of a darker 
age. Hilton is loved because misfortune made 
him a better man. The beauty of a man's charac¬ 
ter depends very much upon the culture of his 
heart. This placed Washington above Bacon, 
and rendered Penn superior to Locke. 
The man who is destitute of feeling can realize 
bu{ a small portion of Nature's bounties. True 
he may look around him, and see the hills, trace 
their carves, calculate their dimensions, take the 
dip of a rock, measure the earth's strata, become 
acquainted with the laws of motion, recognize 
colors, hear sounds, sail upon the waters, and 
measure the distance between the planets—and yet 
how cold and shivering is all this. It lacks those 
qualities which give joy to life. 
Come, Heart, animate this world of ours. Add 
feelings to thoughts. For what are hills without 
grandeur and sublimity? What are curves with¬ 
out beauty and symmetry? Why measure the earth 
and calculate the dimensions of the mountains, if 
it be not to fill our hearts with love for the God of 
the hills and the valleys, the islands and the con¬ 
tinents, the earth and the heavens. It is the heart 
that loves. It is the heart that is filled with de¬ 
light when we look upon rich fields, green pas¬ 
tures and woodlands, filled with beautiful flowers 
and singing birds. Everything that makes us feel 
joyous and happy belongs to the heart. That 
man’s destiny is most glorious whose heart is most 
alive to the good, the beautiful and the true. The 
cultivated heart is— 
“ The dwelling place of all 
The heavenly virtues—Charity and Truth, 
Humility, aud Holiness, and Love." 
It fills us with a charm and seems to bring us in 
communion with heaven. May we all, as we cul¬ 
tivate the fields, and reap their golden harvests, 
also cultivate the heart, and we shall reap a richer 
and more glorious harvest for our souls to feed 
upon in another world. j. b. c. 
Wells boro’, Pa., Feb., 1S57. 
THE DEAD CHILD. 
BY MSS. /CD30X, 
A moc.vd ig in the grave-yard, 
A short and narrow bed ; 
No grass is growing on it, 
And no marble at its head ; 
Ye may go and weep beside it. 
Ye may kneel and kiss the sod. 
But re'll find no halm for sorrow, 
In the cool and silent bed. 
There is anguish in the household. 
It is desolate and lone. 
For a fondly cherished little one. 
From the parent nest has flown ; 
A little form is miasiDg, 
A heart has ceased to beat, 
And the chain of love lies shattered. 
At the desolator's feet. 
W 
Remove the empty cradle. 
His clothing put away, 
And all his little play-things 
With your choicest treasure, lay ; 
Strive not to check the rain drops 
That fall like summer rain, 
For the sun ot hope shines through them. 
Ye shall see his face again, 
O ! think where rests yoor darling, 
Not in his cradle-bed ; 
Not in the distant grave-yard. 
With the still and mouldering dead ; 
But in a heavenly mansion. 
Upon his Savior’s breast, 
With hi* sister's arms around him, 
He takes his sainted rest. 
He has put on robes of glory. 
For the little robe ye wrought. 
And he Rogers golden harp strings 
For the toys his sister brought; 
Oh weep ! but with rejoicing — 
A heart gem have ye given. 
And behold Its glorious setting, 
la the diadem of heaven. 
For Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
PARENTS AND TEACHERS. 
Few pareuts realize the necessity of their co¬ 
operation with the teacher in securing the pro¬ 
gress of the school. No remark is more common 
than that it is difficult to manage three or four 
children at home—especially boys. This is doubt¬ 
less a weak excuse for disorderly and mortifying 
conduct, yet there is stubborn truth in it too. The 
parent that can Bay otherwise, must have an off¬ 
spring “blunted unto goodness, ami feeble for the 
purposes of virtue,” or he must himself be so. 
Those traits in the young on which energy and 
integrity are built, are not so near akin to good¬ 
ness, nor so feebly rooted, that they may be won 
to virtue’s side by mere coaxing. Nor is the 
spontaneous growth of evil so easily subdued. 
This most parents realize, ami need no urging to 
confess. Y'et they do not hesitate to devolve on a 
teacher from thirty to a hundred pupils, and leave 
him to stagger under his load ns best he may; or, 
worse, stand by to decry his competency at t. e 
least token of faltering, weariness or failure.— 
Now every parent may see, upon the slightest con¬ 
sideration, that all those points of misconduct 
which make the oversight of children a serious 
task to him, are indefinitely aggravated by bring¬ 
ing them together in large numbers. Yet the 
teacher, besides standing In place of the parent 
for the time to guard the ordinary conduct of the 
pupii, must secure and maintain a high standard 
of good order during school session, classify the 
Boholars aud recitations wiih both discrimination 
and impartiality, give instruction in . half dozen 
or more different branches, and attend to a variety 
of other exercises vital to the maintenance of a 
school. These things he is to do, not for a few 
days while matters are novel and fresh, hut day 
after day and term after term. And while the 
teacher lias the duties of the parent, and more too, 
to discharge, the bond of dependence which so 
effectually binds the child to the parent, is wholly 
wanting—indeed, not unfrequently, parents furnish 
an actual refuge from the teacher’s wholesome 
and necessary impositions, by tacit or explicit 
permission of absence. 
Now it is needless to observo that no teacher 
can long stand up under tmeh an accumulation of 
duties, unaided by the- parents around him.— 
Teachers are as human as anybody, and being 
commonly young persons, might be supposed a 
little more so. What other persons should not bo 
expected to do, they should not. Temptations 
and errors are incident to them, as to others.— 
Sympathy and ru operation will nerve and fortify 
them, as they do others in responsible places, sli 
too, the lack Of them will eventually enervate aud 
dishearten the teacher, ns it would the incumbent 
oi any other post involving a liko relation. 
There is a variety of particulars ami modes iu 
which this sympathy and co-operation ought to be 
actively e.v-rted; these may be the topic of a 
future communication. H, t\ 
East Cleveland, Feb. 10, 1857. 
For Moore's Rural Now-Yorker. 
HEART-CULTURE. 
Envy. —The envious man is in pain upon all 
occasions which ought to give him pleasnre. Tho 
relish of life is inverted, and the objects that ad¬ 
minister the highest satisfaction to those who are 
exempt from this passion, give the quickest pangs 
to those who are subject to it All the perfections 
of their fellow-creatures are odious. Youth,beauty, 
valor and wisdom are provocations of their dis¬ 
pleasure. What a wretched and apostate state is 
this; to be offended with excellence, and to bate a 
man because we approve him ? The position of 
the envious man is emphatically miserable! He is 
not only incapable of rejoicing in another man’s 
merit of success, but lives in a world wherein all 
mankind are in a plot against his quiet, by study¬ 
ing their own happiness and advantage. 
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