Newspaper Page Text
EMMELINE WILTON.
And, to my sight, trewely
She lady was of all the company.
Chaucer's Flower and The Lea.
Upon thy cheerful face joy’s livery wear.
Sir Philip Sydney.
Oh, what a jewel is a woman excellent,
A wise, a virtuous, and a noble woman.
Beaumont and Fletcher.
Sweetness of temper and simplicity of manners
Are the only lasting charms of woman.
Steele's Tatler , No. 61.
Emmeline, “may I express thee unblam’d”
and dwell upon thy quiet virtues, thy household,
home-loving virtues, which I am grieved to say
are daily becoming more difficult to be found
among thy lovely country-women. Emmeline is
young and happy, and her happiness consists in
doing good to others—self is the last thing thought
of by her. The pure country air, exercise and
gentle feelings and pursuits, have impressed the
bloom of radiant health on her cheek, and glossy
black eye.
The tide of life swift always in its course,
May run in cities with a brisker force,
But no where with a current so serene,
Or half so clear, as in the rural scene.
Her laugh is sweet, c ] ear, and as musical as
the song of a bird. Not a day passes but that
you may see Emmeline with a broom in her hand,
for a cleaner house cannot be found, and what
with sweeping, making her own garments, and
waiting on her parents, (which is her delight,) she
has but little time to spare. But her enjoyments
are real enjoyments, and have the sanction of her
own heart. There is no play with her until her
daily duties are performed. Her great pleasure
is riding on horseback, and a prettier picture you
will not see than Emmeline, when she is seated
upon a fine, spirited horse. She is bold, fearless
and adroit, and can manage the most vicious ani
mal. Away she dashes, her father and mother
standing at the door gazing fondly after her.
Plenty ol admirers has she but her heart is yet
untouched. Her kindness, good humor, and
sparkling animation make friends for her on every
side. Some jealous beauty, or prude, at times
exclaims against her, but Emmeline with her in
tegrity of mind, and pure happy nature, regards
it but as the idle wind. No girl in the village has
more invitations to balls, sailing parties, and
ruial excursions than Emmeline. Wherever she
is, there is sunshine. She is a beautiful dancer,
graceful as the willow waving in the wind—“ light
as the foamy surf that the wind severs from the
broken wave.” She is fond of simple ballad
music, and never waits for her parents to ask her
to place herself at the piano, but anticipates their
desire, and will play hour after hour their favorite
tunes. She knows she owes all to her good God
and to them—she knows this and is grateful for
it; they watched over her infancy and youth,
tended her sick couch, nightly, daily, unmurmur
ing, while every act and word was steeped in
affection. Gan she forget this'/—never ; she loves
them more and more, for they are fast journeying
to the dark house provided for all living, and tears
nil hei eyes at times as she looks from her window
upon the village churchyard, “where heaves the .
tuif in many a mouldering heap,” and where
many ol her friends and relations repose. She is
better educated than her parents, but she gives
them all the credit ol it, and has no false pride
in the matter. She is fond of reading the Bible,
and lives in a religious family. The morning
and evening prayer is duly uttered and felt, and
there is no meal in her dwelling without the bless
ing ol God being first invoked. They are reli
gious; but they think that religion does not con
sist in forms, or in any particular mode of wor
ship, and this calls to mind a passage I met with
in Sir W illiam Temple’s works. He observes,
“ I could never understand how those who call
themselves, and the world usually calls religious
men, come to put so great weight upon those
points ol belief which men never have agreed in,
and so little upon those ol virtue and morality,
in which they have hardly ever disagreed.”
; Emmeline is lond of flowers, and her garden
is a gem ol its kind. Her favorites are the violet,
geranium, and mignonette,
Mignonette for lady’s chamber,
And genteel geranium,
“W ith a leaf for all that come;
and clusters of them gracefully arranged are al
ways to be found in the parlor. She no where
looks lovlier than in the garden, flitting about like
a young fawn.
44 The spleen is seldom felt where Flora reigns.”
Her dress is invariably becoming. She consults
fashion no further than it is adapted to her face
and figure. It is characterized by a Quaker-like
simplicity and cleanliness. Her person is equally
clean. She thinks with Lord Bacon that cleanli
ness of body was ever esteemed to proceed from
a due icveience to God, to society, and to our
selves.
, Even from the body’s purity, the mind
Receives a secret sympathetic aid.
The poor neighbors, when in distress, call on
Emmeline both for advice and assistance, as if
she were a guardian angel, and they never call
in vain—“charity never faileth.” Tis good for
one’s nature to be in her company. Purity, grace
and kindness are enshrined in her. She has a
sweetness of temper that is never ruffled. She
never seeks to put herself forward in company,
and on that account is the more sought after.
Her merits need no trumpeting. Those who
have seen her once are always happy to see her
again. No one is better acquainted than she is
with the sweet civilities of life. She is the pos
sessor of a well poised mind, and being at ease
with herself she renders those easy about her.
Good humor is infections. She has no company
manners, but is always the same true hearted
being. No young man should judge ot the disposi
tion of a girl when he has onl} r met her in society.
Many go there masked ; —See her at home, morn
ing, noon and night, at the table, at the fireside.
“A woman’s seen in private life alone.”
View h-er behavior to her parents. An affec
tionate daughter will make a good wife. See il
she be acquainted with domestic duties. Othello
in enumerating the accomplishments and quali
ties that endeared Desdemona to him, says that
she was “delicate with her needle.” Nothing
that can render home happy is vulgar. To be
fashionable is synonymous with being good for
nothing —and fashionable conversation is for the
most part made up of “vain bibble babble,” scan
dal, and debates on dress-making, but not with
the liveliness and spirit of the old comedy. Hear
Lady Betty Modish and Lady Easy.
Lady B. lam strangely happy to-day. I have
just received my new scarf from London, and
you are most critically come to give me your
opinion of it.
Lady E. O, your servant, madam, I am a
very indifferent judge, you know. What, is it
with sleeves.
Lady B. O, ’tis impossible to tell } r ou what it
is ! ’Tis all extravagance both in mode and fanev,
my dear. I believe there’s six thousand yards of
edging in it, —then such an enchanting slope
from the elbow, —something so new, so lively, so
noble, so coquet and charming, but you shall see
it.— Cibber' 1 s “ The Car (dess Husband .”
Emmeline’s room is neat and elegant, and when
“drizzling sleet
Chilleth the wan bleak cheek of the numm’d Earth,
While snarling gusts nibble the juiceless leaves,
From the nak’d shuddering branch,”
there she spends much of her time. The fire is
sending up its cheerful light, and you see her trim
foot, with its tiny slipper on the fender, and she
either reading or sewing. On the walls are some
o O
fine prints from Rubens, Vandyke and Lawrence.
Selected shelves shall claim thy studious hours,
There shall thy ranging mind be fed on flowers.
Rogers’ Epistle to a Friend.
She has Mrs. Chapone’s works, and Miss Hamil
ton’s, Miss Edgeworth’s, Mrs. Inchbald’s, Jane
Taylor’s, Catharine Talbot’s, Mrs. Radcliffe’s,
Hannah More’s, Miss Burney’s, Jane Austin’s,
Miss Landon’s, Mrs. Heman’s, some of Charlotte
Smith’s novels, and a long list of England’s no
blest poets.
In the evenings when the curtains are let down
before the windows, and the sofa wheeled round
to the fire, you will often see a table, and thereon
dishes filled with cracked walnuts,, and pitchers
of cider, and a merry hearted party seated
around It, —*and the piano sends forth its most
joyous notes.
Perhaps some bonny Caledonian air,
All birks and braes.— Cowper's I'able Talk.
Is not this, gentle reader, true pleasure ? The
heart is filled with content, and there is no head
ache or weariness on the morrow. We have
neither abused ourselves nor our neighbor. Our
amusement has been cheerful and innocent. It
should be the chief aim of a family to make home
the centre of all joy,—let brethren and sisters,
and parents and children, be really such in act,
not merely in name. The young and the old
of the present generation seem to prefer every
place to home, the very name of which and the
solid virtues linked to it are fast fading away.
Comfort and comfortable are words that may as
well be stricken from the Dictionary, —we have
no further use for them, we have become so re
fined.
“Pride, like an eagle, builds among the stars,
But Pleasure, lark-like, nests upon the ground.”
Emmeline, with great personal attractions, with
a hand and arm which are models for a sculptor,
seems unconscious of them all. Affection destroys
many a beauty, and many praiseworthy traits of
character. Queyedo describes an affected girl
with much keenness of discrimination. “She
lisped a little, was afraid of mice, valued herself
upon her hands ; and the better to show them,
always snuff” and the candles; carved up the meat
at table, held them up in church, in the street was
always pointing where every body lived, sitting
in company continually contrived to be pinning
up her head clothes ; and of all games loved to
play at draughts, because then her hands were
never off the board. She would frequently yawn
though she had no need, to show her teeth, and
then cross her mouth ; and in short the whole
house had so much of her hands that her very
father and mother were out of patience with
them.”
I give an extract or two from Emmeline’s let
ters to a female friend.
“Cotton in his poem of The Fireside, speaks
of the world’s vain scene, —this is neither religion
nor sound sense. He should have been above
this common place. The world is beautiful.
The earth with its trees, flowers, and lovely pros
pects. The brave o’erhanging firmament with
its rainbow, and majestical roof, fretted with golden
fire shine not in vain. Are our loves, hopes and
wishes vain ? We are placed here by God to en
joy ourselves and to bestow happiness. We have
books to read, and beauty streaks the famous
poet’s page. The genius of gifted writers throws
a charm over everything; a smile plays about the
lips, or the eye is lit up by a beautiful thought, or
is dimmed by tears as it feeds on the fascinating
words. Are the joys of childhood, and the
dreams of youth vain *? Are the trials, the temp
tations, the overcoming obstacles in our path
through life, the seeking to do good to our fellow
creatures, the making of happiness around us
vain ? Oh, no; I see the modest, lovely, and
fragrant violet blooming before me, and the blue
sky bends over all, and I can ascend from the
one to the other, and to the maker of both. Cot
ton himself did not live in vain. He was a skil
ful physician, the friend and adviser of Cowper,
universally esteemed, and he wrote The Fireside,
a noble gift to posterity. He worshipped God
with a meek and thankful heart, and said that he
was persuaded that no system but that of Chris
tianity was able to sustain the soul amid the diffi
culties and distresses of life.
####### When the blood is thick
and courses slowly through the veins, we feel
dull and unhappy. Then to take some exercise,
to join in pleasant conversation, to hear music, or
to read some favorite volume will adjust and set
the soul to rights. Call and see your friends,
laugh and chat, these are good medicines. Goethe
remarks that the world is vast and empty, when
we figure only towns and hills and rivers in it,
but to know of some here and there whom we ac
cord with, who is living with us in silence, makes
the earthly ball a peopled garden.
“At certain seasons of the Year, when the sun
is bright, and flowers are springing up, and the
trees are filled with buds and blossoms, who can
help feeling a thrill of delight ? The heart is clad
with wings, and floats like a butterfly in the fra
grant air. But look at the reverse of this picture,
when the sunshine is rarity, the earth frozen, the
trees leafless, ways impassible, the wind sighing
its melancholy music or sweeping along in gusty
wrath, the storm dashing down, —where then shall
we seek a refuge ? Make a green bower of home.
Let fall the curtains, and shut out the dreary pros
pect ; let the fire sparkle with its kind eye, let
our books be at hand and music too, and a stand
with flowers, and pictures hanging against the
walls, wherein we see faces beaming with beauty,
intelligence and refinement, and landscapes glow
ing with all the charms of summer, the warm sky,
cattle cooling themselves beneath shady trees, or
standing knee deep in the running stream, the
cottage with its neat garden, and vines trailing
over the porch, and far in the distance the blue
hills. A friend drops in, past happy days are
recalled, each seemingly trivial fond record, is
dwelt upon, and the golden hours on angel wings
flit happily by.
“ ‘Gaily and greenly let my seasons run :
And should the war-winds of the world uproot
The sanctities of life, and its sweet fruit
Cast forth its fuel for the fiery sun ;
The dews be turn’d to ice ; fair days begun
In peace wear out in pain ; and sounds that suit
Despair and discord keep Hope’s harpstring mute ;
Still let me live as Love and Life were one.
Still let me turn on Earth a childlike gaze
And trust the whispered charities that bring
Tidings of human truth; with inward praise,
Watch the weak motion of each common thing
And find it glorious; still let me raise
On wintry wrecks an altar to the Spring!’ ”
THE SEASONS.
Spring with its flowers its varied beauties yields,
Summer its luscious fruits and teeming fields,
Autumn its harvest and the ripened shock,
Winter its snowy plain and barren rock :
Thus Life—our Infancy is Spring and flowers,
Our Youth the heat of ripening Summer’s hours,
Manhood the fruitful Autumn with its gains,
Old Age, the snow on Winter’s barren plains. l. l.
Getting the Sack. —A gentleman who has a
warm side for a young lady, was making fun of a
sack which she wore. “You had better keep
quiet, or I’ll give you the sack /” replied the lady
archly. “I should be most happy,” was the gal
lant’s response, “If you would give it to me as it
is with yourself inside of it!” Further deponent
saith not.
Proving an Alibi. — A clergyman at Cam
bridge preached a sermon which one of his audi
tors commended. “ Yes,” said the gentleman to
whom it was mentioned, “ it was a good sermon,
but he stole it.” This was told to the preacher ;
he resented it, and called on the gentleman to re
tract what he had said. “I am not,” replied the
aggressor, “ very apt to retract my words ; but
in this instance I will—l said you stole the ser
mon ; I find I was wrong—for on referring to the
book whence I thought it was taken I find it still
there.”
Advertising. — A young man in New York
last week advertised for a wife. In less than two
hours eighteen married men sent in word that he
might have theirs. Connubial bliss in that village
must be at a discount, we think.— Western Pajter.
A FRIEND OF THE FAMILY.
I- „
i SAVANNAH, THURSDAY, MARCH 1, 1849.
TO THE PUBLIC.
It was our purpose some months since to have presented to
you the present sheet, but a heavy press of miscellaneous work
thwarted the design, and we were compelled to defer it from
time to time up to the present. Should our undertaking
meet your approbation, we shall gladly register your names as
patrons.
Our object in the publication of this paper is to afford a
home journal of news, instruction and amusement, together
with such general information, in regard to Trade, Commerce,
and Agricultnre, as cannot fail to make it useful, interesting
and amusing to all; and, in doing so, we shall from time to time
be aided by contributions from the pens of some of our most
distinguished literary writers, both in prose and verse.
To the Mason, the Odd-Fellow, and the Son of Temperance,
we shall endeavor to make our sheet interesting, by giving a
correct record of such transactions as are of general impor
tance ; and illustrating their peculiar principles, from time to
time, with extracts from other publications and original essays.
We are aware that the newspaper to suitaU tastes is notin
existence up to the present time, and we have no doubt but that
we shall sometimes, in soliciting subscribers, find ourselves in
the position of many who have gone before us, and be obliged
to battle manfully for existence. However, as we intend to
deserve it, we have no doubt a liberal support will be extended
to us, without a very great struggle.
Finally, as we do not wish to worry our readers too much at
the start, and as it is an old saying, not more trite than true,
that “short stories make long friends,” we believe ourselves
perfectly justified in saying, that our literary, mercantile and
scientific resources of intelligence will be fully equal to those of
any other weekly paper in the country. While, therefore, we
appeal to the South for the support of “A Friend of the
Family,” as a paper devoted to Southern interests, we rely
upon its intrinsic merit as a title to patronage.
THE LADIES’ FAIR.
We took a peep last evening into the Oglethorpe Hall,
where the Ladies are now holding their Fair. We had
heard much of this benevolent enterprise, and from the know
ledge we had of the taste and zeal of those engaged in it, wo
were prepared for something a little above the common order
of such things. We were prepared to see order, elegance,
judicious arrangement, and abundance. But we were not
exactly prepared for what met our admiring eyes on our en
trance. It is true, we expected just such a display of articles,
but had no idea that such a graceful distribution of them could
have been made. We had seen cakes before, but we had con
sidered them hitherto merely as matters that were to come
under the operation of our masticatory organs, and gratify one
sense only. But here we saw what delighted our eyes more
than ever our palate was gratified in the days of our boyhood.
We saw flowers, formed by hands, almost as cunning and skill
ful as nature’s own, and full as fair. We fancied we could
inhale the aroma of the japonica, the oleanda, and the rose,
when in fact silk and tiffany were the components. We saw
specimens in imitation of the human face and human form
divine, wrought by the fair hands of the patronees of the Fair
that almost put nature in the back ground. In plain terms, we
saw dolls so pretty and so natural, that we could have been satis
fied to have conferred upon them the honors of paternity, and
felt no reluctance at the claims of relationship. We had seon
sugar before now wrought into various forms, and we thought
we had tasted it in all its beautiful varieties, but we were put
to our trumps on this occasion. We never saw half so beauti
fal a variety as we saw here. The Messrs. Stuarts, of sugar
plum memory, had outdone, if not undone, themselves in
ingenious devices. Nature had been followed up so close that
she had not a foot of neutral ground on which to place her
pretty little foot. But it is in vain for us to attempt a descrip
tion of all we saw, and it would be invidious to attempt a com
parison between objects and articles where all were elegant,
appropriate and tasteful. May we be allowed to say a word or
two ot the tair venders in this gracious exhibition ? Discretion
says no. We have just common sense enough left to know
thatit will never do, and for this reason, that we have expended
all the best of our terms of commendation upon the articles
for sale, and we have none left half laudatory enough to reach
the desert of the fair sellers. The objects of this Fair are
well known and have been long appreciated, and long before
the public. We wish the zealous movers of it God-speed.
We know they must accomplish their aim, because it is good.
PREMIUMS.
The following premiums will be awarded on the first of
May, to the successful competitors.
To the Masonic Lodge having the greatest number of sub
scribers to our paper at that time, ten copies will be given
gratuitously, for one year.
To the Odd Fellows Lodge, the same.
To the Division of the Sons of Temperance, the same.
LOVES OF THE SHELL FISHES.
The following jeu d’esprit, is from Wilson &Co’s. Dispatch.
“ A crab there was, a rakish young blade,
And he made love to a lobster maid ;
The lobster maid was a terrible prude,
And she told her mama that the crab was rude.”
So runs the legend, if we recollect aright. The crab had a
rival in the shape of a gallant muscle, arid the suitors being un
able to settle their claims by gentle means, resorted to the
trial by battle, and got up an affair of honor, in which they both
distinguished themselves by their coolness on the field. The
crab, however, had the worst of it. His back was broke in the
fight, and his agonies were rendered doubly acute by the infor
mation that his young lobster love had that morning eloped
with a battered old rake of a clam. All this proves that the
course of true love never did run smooth, even in the deepest
waters. There is also an old story of an oyster who died for
love —but it is regarded by the learned as little better than a
poetical fiction. An oyster has been considered, all the world
over, as the most phlegmatic and unsusceptible of all shellfish;
one whose life is divided between gaping and snoozing—th