A Friend of the family. (Savannah, Ga.) 1849-1???, September 06, 1849, Image 1

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Oeuotcb to literature, Science, attb ~U't, tlje Sous of temperance, (Dbb AFeUotosljtp, Attasonrn, anb ©cncral Mntcllicicnce. VOLUME I. g n USTIi * QBVtT. VERSJC LES. (for fathers and mothers only) on an infant daughter’s first walking. BT JAMES GREGOR GRANT. Ha! ambitious little elf! Off by thy adventurous self? Fairly off? *0 fair betide thee f With no living thing beside thee ; Not a leading string to guide thee; Not a chair to creep or crawl by; Not a cushioned stool to fall by; Not a finger-tip to catch at; Not a sleeve or skirt to snatch at; Fairly off at length to sea, Full twelve inches (can it be Really, true?) from the lee Os mamma’s protecting knee! Fair and softly—soft and fairly— Little bark, thou sail’st it rarelv, In thy new-born power and pride, O’er the carpet’s level tide, Lurching, though, from side to side, Ever and anon, and heeling Like a tipsy cherub reeling, (If e’en cherubs, saucy gipsy! Smile like thee, or e’er get tipsy!) Even as though yon dancing mote In the sunny air afloat, Or the merest breath that met thee, Might suffice to overset thee ! Helm a weather ! steady, steady ! —Nay the danger's past already ; Thou, with gentle course, untroubled, Table-Cape full well hast doubled, Sofa-Point hast shot a-head, Safe by Footstool Island sped, And art steering well and truly, On for Closet-Harbor duly ! Anchor now, or turn in time, Ere within the torrid clime Which the torpid fender bounds, And with brazen zone surrounds; Turn thee, weary little vessel, Nor with further perils wrestle; Turn thee to refit awhile In the sweetly sheltering smile Os thine own Maternal Isle — In the haven of dear rest Proffered by the doating breast And the ever ready knee As the best of mothers be! Na} r ! adventurous little ship! If thine anchor’s still a-trip, And instead of port, you choose Suoh another toilsome cruise, Whereso’er the whim may lead thee, On ! my treasure! and God speed thee ! Hackneyed as, perchance, they be, Solemn words are these to me, Nor from an irreverent lip Heedlessly or lightly slip : Even He whose name I take Thus, my dear one, for thy sake, . In this seeming idle strain, Knows I take it not “in vain,” But, as in a parent’s prayer Unto Him, to bless and spare! m liisiiai f m From the Literary World. KENNEDY'S LIFE OF WIRT. We make the following: extract from” Mr. Ken nedy’s forthcoming biography of William \\ irt, shortly lobe issued by Lea & Blanchard,-Phila delphia. *A.s we understand that all ot Mr. Wirt’s Papers have been submitted to Mr. Kennedy, we are led to expect much new and interesting mat ter, with many original letters in Mr. W irt’s lively 7 and agreeable style. The one which we present to our readers describes vividly some of the pains and ennui of authorship, experienced during the “ Life of Patrick Henry.” PERPLEXITIES of a biographer. At this time the biography of Henry was re sumed with a stout resolve to bring it to a conclu sion. M e have abundant evidence that this had alr f e^ d y grown to be a most irksome labor. Ihe following letter to Carr playfully presents 1( Acuities of this undertaking, and shows bow uetamiy \\ irt struggled with bis task. It con ofT* ‘r°- an a^us^on t 0 Dabney Carr, the father aenW end ’ an( l compatriot of Henry—a iCman most favorably known in the short leg fe 1 U G | ca / eer t 0 which we have heretofore adver ,an<( whose early death had blighted the promise ot a fair renown. -“ * * - , sfr : , James Webster, of Philadelphia, to whom (r *° t{ HS has a reference, was already en fc ‘ged as the publisher of the forthcoming vol m0 ’ and had made some announcement of it to le P u ‘dic, which, it •will be seen, had served to au gment the author’s disrelish of his enterprise. william wirt to judge carr. Richmond, Atfgnst, 20. 1815. ‘ v D ear Friexd : # * # # # ##* Now for Patrick Henry. I have delved on to a jf ,° ne hundredth and seventh page ; up-hill , the way, and heavy work, I promise you ; and e avy and unleavened lump I fear me it will be, c ‘* it as I may. I can tell you, sir, that it is much the most oppressive literary enterprise that ever 1 embarked in, and I begin to apprehend that I shall never debark from it without “ rattliue ropes and rending sails.” 1 write in a storm,and a worse tempest, I fear, will follow its publica tion. Let me give you some idea of my difficul ties. Imprimis, then —I always thought that Bozzy ranted in complaining so heavily of the infinite trouble which he had to encounter in fix ing accurately the dates of trivial facts ; but I now know by woful experience that Bozzy was right. And, in addition to the dates, 1 have the facts themselves to collect I thought I had them all ready cut and dry, and sat down with all my statements of correspondents spread out before me ; a pile* of old journals on my right, and another of old newspapers bn the left, thinking that I had nothing else to do but, as Lingo says, “to saddle Pegasus, and*ride up Parnassus.”— Such short-sightedness is there in “ all the schemes o’ mice and men ; ” for I found, at every turn of Henry’s life, that I had to stop and let fly a volley of letters over the State, in all directions, to col lect dates and explanations, and try to reconcile contradictions. Meantime, until they arrived, “Ikept sowing on.” In the next place, this same business of stating facts with rigid precision, not one jot more or less than the truth—what the deuce has a lawyer to do with truth ? To tell you one truth, however, I find that it is entirely anew business for me, and I I am proportionally awkward at it ; for alter I have gotten the facts accurately, they are then to be narrated happily ; and the style of narrative lettered a scrupulous regard to real facts, is to me the most difficult in the world. It is like at tempting to run, tied up in a bag. My pen wants perpetually to career and frolic it away. But it must not be. I must move like Sterne’s mule over the plains of Languedoc, “as slow as foot can fall,” and that, too, without one vintage frolic with Nanette on the green, or even the relief of a mulberry tree to stop and take a pinch of snuff’at. I was very sensible, when I began, that I was not in the narrative unit. I tried it over and over again, almost as often as Gibbon did to hit the key note, and without his success. I determined, therefore, to move forward, in hopes that my pal frey” would get broke by degrees, and learn by and by to obey the slightest touch of the snaffle. But I am now, as l said, in my hundredth and seventh page, which, by an accurate computation, on the principles of Crocket, taking twenty-four sheets to the quire, and four pages to each sheet, you will find to exceed a quire by eleven. And yet am I as far to seek, as ever, for the lightsome, lucid, simple graces of narrative. You may think this affectation if you please, or you may think it jest; but the dying confession of a felon under the gal lows (no disparagement to him !) is not more true, nor much more mortifying. Tertvo: The incidents of Mr. Henry’s life are extremely monotonous. It is all speaking, speak ing, speaking. ’Tis true he could talk; “Gods! how he could talk ! ” but there is*no acting “ the while.” From the bar to the legislature, and from the legislature to the bar, his peregrinations re sembled, a good deal, those of someone, I forgot whom —perhaps some ot our friend Tristram’s characters, “from the kitchen to. the parlor, and from the parlor to the kitchen.” And then, to make the matter worse, from 17G3 to 1789, cover ing all the bloom and pride of his life, not one ol his speeches lives in print, writing, or memory. — All that is told me is, that, on such and.such an occasion he made a distinguished speech. Now to keep saying this over, and over, and over again, without being able to give any account ol what the speech was —why, sir, what is it but a vast, open, sunburnt field, without one spot of shade or verdure ? Mv soul is weary ot it, and the days have come in which I can say that I have no pleasure in them. I have sometunes a notion of trying the plan of Botta, who has written an account of the American war, and made speeches himself for his prominent characters, imitating, in this, the historians of Greece and Rome ; °but 1 think with Polybius, that this is ma king too free with the sanctity of history. Be sides Henry’s eloquence was all so completely sui generis as to be inimitable by any othei ; and to make my chance of imitating him still worse, I never saw or heard him. Even the speeches pub lished in the debates of the Virginia convention are affirmed by all my correspondents not to oe his, but to fall far short of his strength and beauty.— Yet in spite of all this monotony and destitution of materials, we have a fellow coming out in the Analectic Magazine, or the Baltimore Commercial Advertiser, 1 forgot which—for both have been at it—exciting the public expectation on this very ground, among others, of the copiousness and va riety of the materials within my reach, -f hose puffs mean me well, but I could wish them a little more judgment. . . Again : there are some ugly traits in 11 s char acter, and some pretty nearly a6 ugly blanks. SAVANNAH, GA., THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 6, 1849. He was a blank military commander, a blank governor, and a blank politician, in all those use ful points, which depend on composition and de tail. In short, it is verily, as hopeless a subject as man could well desire. I have dug around it, and applied all the plaster of Paris that I could com mand ; but the fig tree is still barren, and every bud upon it indicates death instead of life.. “ Then surely you mean to give it up ? ” On the contrary , I assure you, sir, that I have stept in so deep, that I am determined like Macbeth, to go on, though Henry, like Duncan, should bawl out to me, “Sleep no more !” Ido not mean that lam de termined to publish. No, sir, unless I can mould it into a grace, and breathe into it a spirit which I have never yet been able to do, it shall never see the light; Mr. Webster’s proposals to the contrary notwithstanding. But what I have determined upon is to go on as rapidly, as I can, to embody all the facts; then, reviewing the whole, to lay it off into sections, by epochs, on Middleton’s plan ; and taking up the first section, to make a last and dying effort upon it, j)cr sc. If I fail, I surrender my sword ; if otherwise.! shall go forth, section after section, conquering and to conquer. And if the public forgive me this time, I will promise never to make a similar experiment on their good nature again. IS THERE NO REMEDY FOR INTEMPERANCE? Y"es; there is a remedy —a simple, easy, and effectual remedy—a remedy so simple, that it can be named in three words—so easy, that it will require effort not to adopt it —so effectual, that if adopted, it will not leave a vestige of intemper ance in the land. The remedy is simple this: Let the temperate continue temperate. Yes : let the temperate continue temperate, and then, when the intemperate die, (and they will all die soon,) the curse will die with them. And is it not easy for temperate men to contin ue temperate ? By temperate men, let it be un derstood, we mean such, and only such, as do not taste or wish for ardent spirits in any quantity, in any form, or on any occasion.* He who can not come up to this standard must die before the curse will surely die. We ask again—ls it not easy, for temperate men —for men who never desire ardent spirits —to continue temperate; And is not every man naturally a temperate man V Is he not born temperate ? Is not the appetite lor ardent spirits in every instance an acquired appetite ? Is it not necessary to disguise spiritu ous liquor with sugar or syrups, as we disguise pills, before we can induce children to touch it V What difficulty, then, is there in applying the rem edy? And will it not be an effectual remedy ? Christian fathers I Christian mothers ! look at the bill which has been presented to you, and count the cost ot intemperance —consider the pauperism, the crime, the waste ot money and ol life—consider, especially, that ot all the adults who die in this land—this land, where you and your children must die—one out ot ever}’ three goes to the bar ot God, to answer for a sin, ol which an apostle has said, those who commit it shall not inherit the kingdom of Heaven. Are you willing that your offspring, through all gene rations, should be exposed to such danger ot such a doom? Oh! then, awake from your apathy ! Banish the. accursed thing from yaur dwelling.— Forbid your children to taste, or touch it. Learn them to shun it as they would shun the viper—to shun it, as they would shun the worm that never dies. 1. They do not give strength for labour. —Vv ho was the strongest man ? Samson. And who was Samson ? A Nazarite —bound by a vow not to taste of wine and strong drink. What did he drink to revive his spirits after the labour ot slay ing a thousand Philistines with the jaw-bone ol an ass? Water —simple water —and from that day to this, simple drinks have always been found best for hard-working men. —The trainers ol Great Britain, whose business it is to prepare men for pugilistic combats, and whose sole object‘is to give them the greatest force and power of endu rance of which their constitutions are capable, allow them none but simple drinks. Spirit in every form is rigidly prohibited. Long Expe rience has taught these trainers that men cannot be Samsons unless they are Nazarites. 2. They do not preserve from the effects of heat. Physicians who have resided in the W est Indies, say that those who drink nothing but water are but little affected by the climate, and can undergo fatigue without inconvenience: while rum used habitually and moderately , as well as in excessive quantities, always diminishes the strength, and renders men more susceptible of disease. 3. They do not preserve from the effects of cold. — A few years since a vessel was wrecked near Newburyport, Mass, in an intensely cold night. Some of the crew drank ardent spirits to keep them warm, while others abstained. Os lhos£ who used"the spirits, some-lost their hands, some their feet, and some'perishcd; while those who used none Survived unhurt. Warm clothing and a plentiful meal just before exposure, are the best preservatives against cold. Ardent spirits aie always positively injurious. 4. They do not'preserve from infectious disease. —Si > far from it, that physicians say they render the svs tem more susceptible to the influence of contagion ; and they advise nurses and visiters to abstain en tirely from the use of them. 5. They are not necessary as a medicine. —So saws the New-Hamprshire Medical Society, gnd so sav many other physicians. Some, however, contend that there are cases of disease where ardent spirits are necessary,Jbuf they generally admit that they are very rare. In many parts of our country, and particularly in New-England, reflecting men have begun to count the cost of intemperance, and to set them selves seriously to work, to apply the remedy: and the success which has attended their efforts has been far beyond their most sanguine expectations- In Boston and the vicinity “it is becoming un fashionable,” says the Report of the Massachusetts Intemperance Society, “to drink spirits in decent Company; it is no longer considered as a neces sary mark of hospitality to offer them ; nav, in some’circles it would be almost considered a want of good breeding fta offer, or to partake of them. Thev no longer disgrace by their presence the tables of refresh men fVhich are spread upon pub lic and solemn occasions,” The number of houses licensed to’retail* spirits in Boston, in 1822, was 675,and in 1827, only 562 ; although the popula tion had meanwhile] increased Irotn 49,000 to 64,000. To preserve the proportion to the popu lation, the number in 1527 should have been 877. The effect of the efforts which have been made in Boston* is, therefore, equivalent to the abatement of more than three hundred, licensed houses in that city. In Lyme, N. H. there were 6000 gallons of ar dent spirits consumed in IS2G ; in 1827, in con sequence of the resolution ol a considerable num ber of the inhabitants to abstain from the use of them, the quantity “was reduced to less than 6000 gallons. At Norwich Falls, Conn, the friends, of tempe rance have been so successful in their efforts that only one quarter as much spirit was sold in 1827 as in the year preceding. The directors of the American Temperance Society, in the Appendix to their Report, say that effects similar to the above have been produced in more titan fifty towns in New-England alone. The members ol Park-street Church, in Boston, have passed a resolution “ to abstain entirely from the use of ardent spirits, except as an article of medicine,” and their example has been followed by other churches in that vicinity, and it is hoped will be universally followed throughout the coun try. •J A. Case'of Conscience. —In a certain “Ladies Moral Reform Society,” existing not many miles from the banks of the Kenebeck, the members were obliged to sign a pledge not to “ set up,” ns it is termed, or do any thing else that might he supposed to have a tendency, however remote, ‘imtnorality. One evening, as the President was calling over the names, to know whether each member had kept the obligation, a beautiful ahd highly respectable yonng lady burst into tears, and being questioned as to the cause, said that she feared she had broken the pledge. “ Oh, -sobbed the young lady, “Hr.— kissed me the odiei night, when he wafted on me home from meet ing.” “Oh, well, that is nothing very bad,” said the President; “ his kissing you clbes not make out that you broke the pledge.” “ Oh, but that isn’t the worst of it,” repled the conscientous young lady, “ I kissed him back.” How much pain have those us that have never happened. The Future. —In the hundredVears from 1&49 to 1945, both inclusive, there will be seventeen years with fifty-three Sundays in the year. A Ion” ladder leaning against a house, a negro at the top, and a hog rubbing himself against the foot of it—‘•Q’way, g’way dere —you’in makiu’ mischief!” Effects of Sugar Diet.— ln seventeen experi ments on dogs it is ascertained that in some cases tends to fatten the animal, and in others it turns to bile. Transfer of Vitality. —Fourteen thousand British seamen deserted the merchant service the last year, eight thousand of whom left their vessels on the American coast. A female college is about to be established in Cincinnati. A large and beautiful edifice has been erected for the purpose on Pleasant Hill, a most delightful and healthful position* NUMBER i7