Robert Merry's Museum, Vol VIII, July to December, 1844

Mount Vernon.

This name does not mean a town or village, but an estate, which was for many years the residence of Washington. We give above, a view of the house, which still remains, though it is a good deal dilapidated since it was inhabited by the great and good man to whom it owes its celebrity.

Mount Vernon is a large farm, near the Potomac, and lies about eight or ten miles below Alexandria, in the District of Columbia. The house is an old-fashioned one, of ample size, with a deep piazza in front. It commands a view of the river and surrounding country, and is a very pleasant spot. But its chief interest lies in the fact that here was the house of Washington, and that good, hospitable companion of his fortunes, lady Washington.

Many people, from all parts of the world, visit this place every year, and as they walk over the grounds, and tread the halls of the mansion, the image of the father of his country arises before the fancy, and the stranger seems to realize the scenes that have long since passed away. What a power there is in greaness and goodness, to impart an interest to everything that has been associated with those who, in life, displayed these noble qualities; and in death, have left behind a name and fame, which it is the delight of mankind to cherish!

* * * * *

“NINE TAILORS MAKE A MAN.”--This sentence, which had its origin in the grateful mind of one who had received a start in life from the charity of tailors, has now, from an ignorance of the circumstance, entirely lost its meaning. The term had its origin in the following manner.

In 1742, an orphan beggar boy applied for alms at a fashionable tailor’s shop in London, in which nine journeymen were employed. His interesting and forlorn appearance touched the hearts of the benevolent tailors, who immediately contributed nine shillings for the relief of the little stranger. With this capital, our young hero purchased fruit, which he retailed at profit. From this beginning, by industry and perseverance, he finally rose to wealth and distinction, and when he set up his carriage, he caused to be painted on the pannel, “Nine tailors made me a man.”

* * * * *

SOCRATES.--It is said of Socrates, the great Grecian philosopher, that he never allowed his temper to overcome him, but displayed the utmost tranquillity on all occasions. Feeling at one time displeased with one of his servants, he said, “I would beat thee, if I were not angry.”

* * * * *

The word “_gentleman_,” is evidently no mark of wealth or station. “You are no gentleman,” said a waiter in a tavern to a person who had given him three-pence. Three-pence more would have constituted the gentleman in the eyes of the waiter, while in truth the three-pence might have been withheld through poverty.

“What sort of a person,” said an individual to his landlady, “is that who occupies your back parlor?” “He is a tailor by trade,” said she, “but very much the gentleman.” This meant that he paid his five shillings a week regularly!

* * * * *

A SAILOR IN A COACH.--Sailors are favorites, from a general belief in their superior frankness and gallantry; but an early association with tar and oakum is by no means calculated to purify the taste or give the manners the highest finish. We shall not easily forget the sensation once produced by the arrival of a distinguished naval officer at an archery meeting in England; he was pleased to descend the steps of his carriage stern foremost, as if he were descending an accommodation ladder!

* * * * *

CRITICISM UPON PREACHING.--“I didn’t like our minister’s sermon last Sunday,” said the deacon who had slept all the sermon time, to a brother deacon. “Didn’t like it, brother A.; why I saw you _nodding assent_ to every proposition of the parson.”

* * * * *

Want of punctuality is a species of falsehood.

[Illustration: End of the old year]

Farewell to the Old Year.

We have came to the close of another year and another volume. In the opposite picture, we see old =1844= going down into the abyss of the PAST, while the new year, like a youth upon his sled at the top of the hill, is ready to begin his race. The grisly image of Time is standing by, marking the flight of years, and notching down the ineffaceable record upon the cold gray rock of eternity.

Well--so it is--so it must be. “Time and tide will wait for no man.” The world rolls round, and what mortal can stay its revolutions? Let us be careful then, to see that this most precious of gifts be diligently and wisely used. If we have spent our time well, we have no reason to lament its departure: if we have used it amiss--if we have squandered it in the pursuit of folly, or used it in the indulgence of sin--then, then indeed we have reason to mourn over its irreparable loss. But the moment we are aware of such an error, let us arrest our downward progress; adopt new and wise resolves, that we may reclaim the loss of the past, as far as may be, by the more diligent and faithful use of the future.

And while we talk to others, let not Bob Merry forget his own duty. For the last twelve months, we have plodded on, bringing forth things new and old, to the best of our feeble ability, in fulfilment of our vocation, which is to please and profit our gentle friends and readers. That we have done well, we cannot presume to say; that we have intended well, is all we can venture to assume. Amid the cares and toils of our journey,--the flaws, cross-currents, and tempests of our voyage--we have at least one comfort--perhaps but one--and that is, that our little Black Eyes and Blue are still good-humored, and still cheer us with their confidence and favor. This joyous breeze still fills our sails--and with this encouragement we shall start upon the voyage of 1845.

We hope to perform every trip this year, under some new advantages. We not only retain our old publishers, Messrs. Bradbury, Soden & Co.,--who commenced the Museum and have carried it on so successfully through eight volumes--but we have taken on board a new captain,--D. Mead of New York, who is an experienced sailor, and who intends to make a dashing voyage. To drop the metaphor, and speak in plain language--the Museum is hereafter to be issued from two points--the office of Bradbury, Soden & Co., No. 12 School street, Boston, and that of the aforesaid D. Mead, 148 Nassau street, New York. The work will appear with promptitude, and we shall be careful to see that, every month, the patrons of the work shall find a palatable assortment of literary varieties. We shall still be happy to receive the favors of our correspondents, addressed to Bradbury, Soden & Co., 12 School St., Boston.

Pleasant Things.

MUSIC BY G. J. WEBB.

[Illustration: Music.]

1. What joy it is from day to day, To skip and sing, and dance and play; To breathe the air, to feel the sun, And o’er the spangled meadows run. To breathe the air, and feel the sun, And o’er the spangled meadows run, And o’er the spangled meadows run.

What joy to move my limbs about, To whoop and halloo, call and shout, Among the woods and feel as free As any bird upon a tree.

What joy, when hungry, ’tis to eat, What pleasure in our daily meat; How sweet, when sleep the eyelids close, To sink in calm and soft repose.

But who bestows the constant joy On every little girl and boy? ’Tis God, our Father, great and wise, Whose goodness every joy supplies.

Then let me love and praise the Lord, And strive to know his holy word,-- To do no wrong, and think no ill, And evermore perform his will.

Transcriber’s Note

This book was written in a period when many words had not become standardized in their spelling. Words may have multiple spelling variations or inconsistent hyphenation in the text. These have been left unchanged unless indicated below. Obsolete words, jargon, and alternative spellings were not changed.

Words and phrases in italics are surrounded by underscores, _like this_. Obvious printing errors, such as letters that were backwards, upside down, partially printed, or in reverse order, were corrected. Unprinted punctuation, final stops missing at the end of sentences and abbreviations were added. Duplicate letters at line endings or page breaks were removed. One footnote was moved to the end of the story in which the anchor occurs. Captions provided in the book are in italics. Descriptions, not in italics, were added to illustrations without captions. Lyrics to musical scores are presented as poetry following the illustration of the music.

Noted:

There may be a number missing from the puzzle at the end of the October issue: My 2, 8, 10 and is numbered.

The illustration on page 186 shows the year 1835 coming to its end while the text referring to the illustration speaks of the year 1844 coming to an end.

Text likely missing at a page break:

I now found letters from ... well, and enjoying as much happiness as their humble condition would permit.

There is no Chapter numbered XIII in the Dick Boldhero story.

The following items were changed:

fond and [axious] anxious hope one hundred [rix] six dollars [sackened] slackened his pace [acession] accession of a single rivulet opposite side of the [rixer] river [but-end] butt-end upon the head [may] many people do not wish [Sarcely] Scarcely had we

Missing word added:

be [a] matter of surprise