A Friend of the family. (Savannah, Ga.) 1849-1???, March 01, 1849, Image 2

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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