Daguerreian Society

The daily news is fairly quiet, so I'm sending these two items from my "non-
dated" files.  Both of these items appeared in "The Whig Almanac" (New York), an 
annual publication.
- - - - - - - - - -

The first is an ad from the back of "The Whig Almanac for 1853":


It cannot be idolatry
  To worship where we love,
To shrine those in the memory
  Whom God hath called above;
Or if it be, such venial sin
  Is sure to be forgiven,
For loving one another
  Brings us always nearer heaven.

The mother who hath laid her child
  In tears beneath the sod,
And watched its spotless spirit fade
  Into the smile of God,
May hold the idol in her soul
  While memory's power shall last,
And worship to her latest hour
  The glory that hath passed.

The child, whose tender hand hath smoothed
  A dying parent's brow,
May set the image in the heart
  And aye before it bow;
For mortal parents are but types
  And when by death they fall,
They gently draw our souls to HIM,
  The parent of us all.

But memory in the wreck of years
  Will often fade away--
For in the sunniest climes of earth
  'Tis never always day;
Then how the heart bereaved will cling
  To all that tells of one
Who loved and was beloved, whose race
  Too soon on earth was run.

Thanks to the wondrous powers of Art
  In these well-favored days;
Death cannot rob the soul of all
  That glads our earthly ways;
In nature's grand old temple stands
  A priest, before unknown,
And wields, as with a spirit's power,
  The pencil of the sun.

And as full-armed and perfect men
  (So ancient fables tell)
Sprung from the soil full thickly where
  The teeth of dragons fell,
So from this pencil's magic touch
  Comes forth the human form,
So like the life it seems to speak,
  And beat with pulses warm.

Death soon or late must come to all,
  There's danger in delay;
The shadow will endure for time,
  The substance pass away;
Secure at once, ye loving ones,
  Those treasures of the heart
That ever keep the memory true
  To those who must depart.

              The Daguerreotype Gallery of Mr. Root,

No. 363 BROADWAY, New York, is one of the most extensive and splendid in the 
world, and open day and evening free to all.  His pictures are as near 
perfection as it is possible yet to come, and have taken TWELVE PREMIUMS, 
including the Gold Medal of 1851.  His Crayons are most exquisite; and his 
Crystalotypes--a new article, are equally fine.  The Daguerreotype portrait--the 
most appropriate gift from one friend or relative to another--should be secured 
by every person visiting or living in New York.  Root's is at the center of 
Broadway and Franklin Street, six blocks above the Park.  Call and see his great 
collection of remarkable portraits.

* * * * * * *

This short anecdote appeared in "The Whig Almanac for 1855":

   "Mother, can't I go and have my Daguerreotype taken?"  "No, my child;  I 
guess it isn't worth while."  "Well, then, you might let me have a tooth pulled; 
I never go anywhere."

(with thanks to Joe Bauman for sending these contributions!)
Posted for your enjoyment.     Gary W. Ewer     

Return to: DagNews 1999

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