"On another occasion, I have mentioned, and will here repeat, that the baleful practice of giving ardent liquor to labourers, ought to be exploded. This custom has so powerfully aided other causes of intemperance, that there is scarcely to be found among the labouring class, any who do not drink, and drink too much. It is unquestionably owing, in a great measure, to this, that the apprentices to many mechanical branches, are initiated into the habit of intemperance, before they acquire a knowledge of their trade; and it is certainly owing to the same cause, that many do not gain a perfect knowledge of their business. Here, too, we see a powerful objection operating, to prevent many respectable parents from putting their sons to mechanical occupations. Hence, many a promising mechanical genius is smothered in the warehouse, or doomed to add a useless member to the already over-run and over-rated learned professions. This serves to degrade the honourable calling of mechanics, which suffers another depression from the necessity which these circumstance create, of taking apprentices from the lower circles of society, whose want of the requisite education disqualifies them for attaining an adequate knowledge of their trade. In addition to this, the master mechanic, growing wealthy by his business, too often becomes infected with the follies and fashions of upper life—in which sphere some are fitted only to appear ridiculous. Their sons, forsooth, must be above their fathers' business. They must be brought up gentlemen—and, of course, reared in idleness and extravagance, or become professionable men or merchants.—Thus, by their conduct, they give countenance to those whose weakness may dispose them to undervalue mechanical occupations.
"The great number of public holy-days (as they are termed) which are generally observed, are not without their pernicious influence on the morals of society.—Was the manner of their celebration such as to honour the events they are intended to commemorate, their observance, if not useful, would at least be innocent in their consequences. But were we to judge their objects solely by the manner in which they are kept, and the effects they produce, we might be led to the erroneous conclusion, that they were instituted to subserve the causes of vice and immorality. The general suspension of useful employment on those days, is followed by an increased indulgence in drinking; and this accounts for there being more crimes committed on those days, than in any other equal period of time. On the authority of a gentleman who was on the Grand Jury which sat in the present year, I state, that far the greatest portion of the business of that Jury, grew out of crimes and disorders committed during the Christmas and New-Year holy-days. When it is observed, that the court for the trial of criminals is held once a month, and crowded with business, it would be superfluous to add arguments to such facts.
"The custom of giving wine and other liquors at funerals, is not at all calculated to increase the solemnity of those occasions. The practice is bad, and ought to be discountenanced by those whose example may influence others to follow it. Instances have happened, where the effects of this ill-timed hospitality, have been very justly lamented. How such an absurd custom was first introduced, is not, perhaps, so evident as the impropriety of its continuance.
"To conclude—'To what purpose,' an inconsiderate though well-intentioned friend, has said, and others as thoughtless, may say, 'do you attempt to write down the use of ardent drink? Notwithstanding all you have said, or may say, people will continue to drink as usual.' In the first place, I answer, I am not sure of that—and in the next place, I am sure, that if they will continue to use spirituous liquor as a daily table drink, and give and receive it as the token of friendship and good will, thereby associating the vice of drinking with the virtue of hospitality—if they will accustom their children to the use or witness the use of ardent drink, and rear them in idleness and extravagance, with the mistaken idea of thus making them ladies and gentlemen—if they will continue to 'have wine in their (public) feasts,' and license taverns by thousands, and create a thousand temptations to frequent them—if they will persist in the practice of giving strong drink to the working class of society, and thereby contribute to degrade their character, and bring useful industry into contempt—if they will continue to celebrate their anniversaries by a course of unrestrained intemperance—then, I again repeat, I am sure, that notwithstanding all their professions of patriotism, morality, philanthropy and religion, they cannot escape the imputation of loving ardent spirits more than the work of reformation: and moreover, cannot avert, and will merit all the ills which are flowing, and must continue to flow, from the demoralizing influence of intoxicating drink. Intemperance, the reigning sin of the nation, will go on 'increasing to increase,' till immorality, spreading far and wide, shall debase the people, corrupt their rulers, and destroy the liberties of our country. Then dark illimited despotism, with its genial concomitant, blind superstition, weak-minded bigotry, and black-hearted fanaticism; while forging the chains, preparing the wheel, and igniting the faggots of unholy and merciless persecution, will rear its head, and impiously exult in the downfall of the only government on earth, the existence of which, is not a reproach to the common sense of mankind."
"New York, January, 1819."
A view of Botany Bay.
In the 63d number of the Edinburgh Review, for July last, we find an interesting account of the settlement called Botany Bay in New South Wales, discovered by the Dutch in 1616, and taken possession of by the British in 1770. On the close of the war by which the United States obtained their independence, the government of Great Britain, at a loss for a receptacle for convicts sentenced to banishment, at last selected this remote country, and made the first settlement there in 1778. This colony, now a very flourishing one, was thus planted with the rogues of England, Ireland and Scotland, sent thither, in exile, as a punishment for their crimes—transportation to that distant and savage land being more dreaded there, perhaps, than our penitentiary is here, from which escapes are made with so much facility—the certainty of punishment deterring from the commission of crime more than its severity. The criminals landed in this southern clime, finding themselves placed in a new situation, where little could be got by theft, and having a better chance than in the mother country of earning a comfortable subsistence, often changed their habits, and became industrious, if not honest men. They are probably destined to be a great nation, having an abundant scope of territory, 2,700 miles in length, and 2,000 in breadth, (three-fourths the extent of Europe,) and will, at a future day, in imitation of America, cast off the shackles of colonial subjection, and assert the prerogative of self-government.
The climate of Botany Bay is represented to be equal to any in Europe, but rather Asiatic than European—Favourable on the whole to health and longevity. December, January, and February, are the summer months of that country, and then the heat, which at noon is at 80 deg. is tempered by a strong sea-breeze. The winter months, June, July, and August, have very cold nights, and fire through the day is comfortable.
The Reviewer humorously calls this colony "a land of convicts and kangaroos," and sportively observes, that, "in this remote part of the earth Nature (having made horses, oxen, ducks, geese, oaks, elms, and all regular and useful productions, for the rest of the world) seems determined to have a bit of play, and to amuse herself as she pleases. Accordingly, she makes cherries with the stone on the outside; and a monstrous animal, as tall as a granadier, with the head of a rabbit, a tail as big as a bed-post, hopping at the rate of five hops to a mile, with three or four young kangaroos looking out of its false uterus to see what is passing. Then comes a quadruped as big as a large cat, with the eyes, colour, and skin of a mole, and the bill and web-feet of a duck—'puzzling Dr. Shaw' and rendering the latter half of his life miserable, from his utter inability to determine whether it was a bird or a beast. Add to this a parrot, with the legs of a sea-gull; a skate with the head of a shark, and a bird of such monstrous dimensions that a side bone of it will dine three real carnivorous Englishmen; together with many other productions that agitate Sir Joseph, and fill him with mingled emotions of distress and delight."