and then gives us a parting kiss, and pats our little foreheads, and breathes sweet tones of affection until he passes from our view. Bill and myself make good resolves for the future, and breathe a fond “good night!” and then embrace the tranquil slumber and innocent dreams of early boyhood.
Office—114 Nassau Street
THE ALLIGATOR.
New York, Saturday, September 25, 1858.
The Alligator Lives for Another Week.
The Ladies have saved the Alligator for six days more, in which God made the gorgeous realms of infinitude! Last week, I proclaimed that unless advance subscribers or patriots came to the rescue of the wounded and bleeding Alligator, he must soon expire amid the tumultuous exultations of his proscriptive adversaries. The gentlemen responded in companies, but the ladies in battalions, and soothed and rescued the poor Alligator from the jaws of immediate death.[[1]] Without the sympathy of woman, man soon droops, and totters, and expires. Woman is the prolific source of all that glorifies the cottages, and mansions, and palaces of the globe. And her benevolence ameliorates the poor, and oppressed, and disconsolate in every region of the earth. From Eve to Mary, the mother of Washington, the history of woman is a brilliant constellation. Without the pure and patriotic Mary, there would have been no Washington,—and without Washington, the Americans would have had no country, and the oppressed of all lands no asylum of liberty and prosperity. In the sacred bosom of her family, woman is like the queen of night amid the pretty stars. In our infant years, she nourishes, and shields, and cheers us in our precarious journey to maturer years. She imparts the first kiss, and moulds the first prayer, and is prouder of her offspring than a queen of her throne. As the child buds, and blooms, and blossoms, and ascends the hill of moral and scholastic science, she watches every pace with breathless solicitude. And in penury or affluence, in bondage or freedom, in power or on the scaffold, she clings with intense affection to the adored objects of her creation. Every family is a dominion. The father is a king, and the mother a queen, and the children their subjects. The same laws govern a family as a kingdom. Judicious penalties follow disobedience, and a good mother imbues the heart and mind of her offspring with humanity and wisdom that govern the world. And over all presides a Being of beneficence and ubiquity, who wields the destinies of a Universe. Woman, under God, is the source of all that cheers and ennobles man in his weary pilgrimage from the cradle to the grave, and to her sympathies am I greatly indebted for my recent liberation from captivity and the partial resurrection of my declining fortunes. God bless her, then, and in my sacred orisons and soliloquies, on land or ocean, I will ever cherish her with those grateful emotions that I inherited from the genial heart of my departed mother.
[1]. If the Alligator dies, advance subscriptions will immediately be returned to my generous patrons, with my fervent wishes for their prosperity.
