{"newspaper_name": "The Washingtonian.", "edition": "01", "page": "p2", "byline": ""}
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manner, and the perusal always gave me un-
allowed pleasure, combined with information
and instruction. But change came "o'er
the spirit of his dreams;" gradually his want
of punctuality struck me-occasionally his
letters displayed kind of recklessness in
relation TO religion and morals. One of his
letters contained an ode to "Whiskey," a
matter which at once grieved and surprised
me for he had heretofore been, as imagined
an extremely temperate man. remember
verse Of this ode or song;


Whskey drink divine,


Why should drovellers bore US
With the praise of wine,


Whilst we've thee before US


To our lips of flame


But forget the balance, and sincerely regretted
at the time, that it was ever written; but
apprehensive of giving offence, l failed to call
his attention to the subject Now it was that
rumors reached me not much to Edwards
credit. Persons who had accidentally met
him in company in London, whispered some
thing about his having become addicted to
drink; his letters were getting "few and far
between" until, at last, he ceased to cores
pond altogether, and was told that such had
been the change in the affairs Of the student,
that he was compelled to resort to the lowest
pot.houses, wherein he earned a miserable
subsistence, by singing for the equally misera-
BILE members Of g Free and Easy" | need
not dwell on the picture, he himself will tell
how idle habits were contracted, how his
studies were neglected, how the charms of
Romance were cast aside for the Tavern, and
the company of the wise and the learned
Stunned, for the denizons Of the brothel.
Gradually his true friends fell off; even the
dissolute became astonished at the proficiency
of their disciple; impropriety followed upon
impropriety-his relatives at length, after re-
peated trials, became disgusted, and Indifferent
to his fate; his parents were dead, and he
was alone in the world, despised and aban-
doned, CONFIRMED DRUNKARD.


"On my first arrival in London" he writes,
"I had letters of introduction to select few
of the literary world. presented them in
due course, and was at once an admitted and
welcome guest at the houses of my new ac-
quaintances. was fresh from the country
unsophisticated in the ways of the world my
spirits, hitherto repressed, became buoyant: i
plunged at once into all the gaieties Of the
metropolis; my company was courted, espe-
cially for my vocal powers, and the blandish-
ments of my female acquaintances completely
turned my head. Night after night was de.
voted to pleasure, music and song; and the
dance, in endless round, occupied all my spare
time. When these began to pail, then the
juice of the grape succeeded; the intoxicating
draught all of sudden seemed to me delicious;
drank freely, copiously.


| "vice is monster of such dreadful mien,
As to be hated, needs but to be seen,


But seen too oft, familiar with his face,
We first endure, then pity, then embrace"


"Previous to my arrival in London, scarcely
ever drank any beverage but water: alas! two
short years in the city found me on the high
road to the drunkard's fame. All this time
my studies were completely neglected; be.
came involved, inextricably, in pecuniary diff
fculties; heard nay name whispered about
in contemptuous manner. Most Of my
former acquaintances gave me the cut direct,
and the drama was brought to close one
night, at the house of the only one Of my for
mer friends, who tolerated my presence.
became drunk, and under the evil influence
insulted the company, host and all-the con-
sequence was ignominious expulsion.


al now wandered about the town in hope
less misery, almost constantly laboring either
under intoxication or "delirium tremens,"
occasionally earning scanty pittance from
the newspapers, as a "Penny-a-Liner;" even
that occupation, paltry as the amount of intel
lect required to fulfil it, became too onerous
for me, and sunk, at last, down to ballad
singer, in low public house, where, amid
the vile and profigate Of both sexes, was
rapidly hurrying to the grave. This is but
faint outline of the reality. say nothing of
my feelings-of the struggle Of my better
spirit TO emancipate itself-of the contempt
and scorn endured-I say nothing Of all
these. leave TO your own imagination the
completion of the picture. was looked upon
by every one, and by myself in particular, as
hopelessly, irre,revably lost; the work. house


x..~1 l.