Newspaper Page Text
No. 6. Vol. IV.
RICHARD ORDERLY—No. VI.
MY NEIGHBOUR—THE POLITICIAN.
He has long been the servant of his coun
fry, and though when false reports have
Lien circulated hy designing men to his
discredit, he has been left out at two or
three elections; yet he has soon recovered
his standing, because he is ever one thing
—a firm'friend to his country, a lover of
virtue, and promoter of every benevolent
object. He declares himself a candidate,
but has not yet so far lost the sense of his
independence as a freeman, as to ask a man,
“ Will you vote for me ?” Nor is he seen
at musters, horse-races, and other gather
ings, indirectly bribing a fickle and fuddled
mpulace for their suffrages—no, he des
pises it. ‘
He was once asked by the leading men
whether he would favour such and
such measures, and vote for the pas
sage of such and such bills. “ Gentlemen,”
said he, “ do you think to tickle me with a
premise of your suffrages, and by that
means ascertain my sentiments on certain
subjects? If you eleGt n.-', I shall use my
own discretion, with the wisdom God has
given me, but 1 cannot now promise what
course 1 shall pursue—l wish, as your con
fidence so frequently reposed in me evinces,
the welfare of my country. But I maintain
that it is politically wrong to extort from a
candidate his opinions, and sickening in the
extreme for him to give them unasked.—
Do not understand me, that I mean a man
shall cloak his opinions, and be so very a
s!;.-ve to every body, as that you cannot
knoiv whether he is a friend to his country
or a lory. No—but he should not trumpet
his sentiments in the ears of every one for
the sole purpose of winning their suffrages.”
When I see a politician thus sycophantic!?,
it brings to my mind the caution of my lord
Chesterfield to his son, that he should nev
er so lose respect to himself as to convince
others he ~vas to be had. 11 1 am,” continu
ed he, “ amenable to the publick for my
..Conduct, but I maintain, that could I know
the wishes of all my constituents, it should
not swerve me from the object I have ever
had in my eye, the good and the honour of
my country ; and being at the place, and
hearing a!! the arguments on both sides of
important questions, 1 am the fittest judge.
It is setting up my liberty at sale, to vote
this way or that because I may hope to
please those who seat me there, and thus
perhaps hr re-elected—it is as far from the
of ’7O, from genuine republicanism,
as “ heaven from hell.”
But far different is the course pursued
by neighbour S. He is a popular candidate,
a kind of weather cock politician. You
;find him at gatherings with a parcel of fel
lows as low as himself, talking very wisely
on the affairs of the general government,
while they stare and wonder that one head
should contain so much knowledge ! Now
he hurries to another group, with “ I ad
rrj'o. gentlemen, the firmness of such and
S’M.b. great men, and will vote for which
you pica.se to be governour ; I will serve
you as well as I can, fellow-citizens, (and
“'•re it not to speak in favour of one’s self,
I stiouhj say our county has been well rep
resented these few years past.”) “ That’s
what it has,” repeats a dozen voices.—
“ Another gallon of whiskey, landlord,
let’s moisten our clay a little.” Here he
gets hold of the principle of action, and
many of his votes are purchased with a
dram! His conduct reminds me of Billy
Shakespeare’s advice to gain popular fa
vour :
to them, with thy bonnet in thy hand,
Thy knee bussing the stones; (for in such busi
ness
Action is eloquence, and (he eyes of th’ ignorant
M .ir- learned ‘ban the ears) —or say to them,
Thou art their soldier, and being bred in broils
Hast not (be soft way which thou dost confess
Were tit for thee to use, a? they to claim,
hi asking their good loves.”
But whan a people forget the meaning of
jittiriotism, and sell their votes so cheaply,
rvty f‘.*r a spirit of political degeneracy
lias gotten hold of I hem, which forebodes
vv.il to our Rr publick. We admit that can
didates for oflicp in a government where
their election depends on the will of the
citizens, should be courteous-- it is one of
the blessings of a free government ; but
there is a wide difference between courte
ousness and the obsequiousness , the begging
by the arts which have been described, the
stations of honour. Our good old father
THE MISSIONARY.
Washington tells us, “ Os all the dispositions
and habits which lead to political prosperi
ty, Religion and Morality are indispensable
supports. In vain would that man claim
the tribute of patriotism, who should la
bour to subvert these great pillars of hu
man happiness. The mere politician,
equally with the piou3 man, ought to res
pect and to cherish them. And let us with
caution indulge the supposition, that mo
rality can be maintained without religion.”
Far different too have been the political
steps of neighbour R. 1 can remember
when the down was upon his chin. When
the seeds of ambition first began to germin
ate in his breast, having, as I considered,
seen the fatal consequences in some instan
ces, of a politician’s being an immoral man,
be used to be quite punctual at meetings,
crowd into a seat where he could get hold
of a parson’s hand, and would sometimes
subscribe 50 or 75 cents for his support.
Now all this was not the effect of a sincere
desire to advance religion ; these were not
the flowings forth of a heart that felt the
importance of a good example and active
exertions in the best of causes ; no, thjs
was the horse on which he hoped to ride
into publick favour.
1 once conversed familiarly with him af
ter I bad seen w hat specious claims he had
to patronage, and what a restless ambition
bloated this stripling. “My son, you are
too young for a statesman— ‘ Old men for
counsel, and young men for war,’ is the an
cient adage ; but you ;.re too green, and
though you have read the papers, and ob
tained a little smattering of politicks, you
are destitute of that age and experience,
and finally that talent requisite to enact laws
for so great a people.” “ But,” said he,
“ you know I was very near beating Mr.
,at the last election.” “ Admitted,
but popularity does not always have so val
uable a concomitant as talent ; no, many a
dunce has been popular, and at the same
time an expense, and a loquacious pest to
the state.” I observe that both he and
neighbour S. build their reputations on
what they make the populace believe to be
the faults of their superiour3. When any
bill has passed to foster objects of impor
tance, the endowing literary institutions,
&c. to advance the respectability of our
country —they immediately harp upon the
squandering of the publick treasury, &c.
and that we do not want our sons to be
learned—if they know how to make cotton
aud corn, it is plenty for them.
I formerly put confidence in such politi
cians without discovering the tattered gar
ment in which they enwrapped themselves ;
but as My Guest was bidding us farewell, he
handed me a couple of glasses, (convex
lenses he called them, I believe) for my
spectacles ; one of which 1 have set, and
though I am quite in the downhill of life,
the powers of vision are most wonderfully
assisted.
I will barely say the two latter neigh
bours of mine, ought to be discountenanced
by every well-wisher to his country, while
the first shall have at the next election, the
support and vote of
® Richard Ordlr.lv .
MAHOMED AN TRADITIONS RESPEC
TING THE END OF THE WORED.
The Rev. Henry Grey, in moving one of
the resolutions at the Publick Annual Meet
ing of the Scotch Missionary Society, at
which the Report was read, among other
interesting intelligence,communicated some
peculiarly remarkable information, relative
to the Mahommedans residing in Europe
and the western parts of Asia, which he had
received from a gentleman who had been
in those quarters. The gentleman expres
sed to Mr. Grey, his surprise at the accounts
given in the memoirs of the Rev. Henry
Martyn, respecting the religious discussions
into which he was permitted to enter with
the iMahnmmedans in Persia; no such dis
cussions being allowed in European Turk
ey. There a widely circulated opinion
now prevails, founded on tradition, that the
Mahommedan religion is to be overthrown
by the Christian; and that the disciples of
Islam are to be speedily driven out of Eu
rope ; subsequently to he expelled From
Asia Minor; and at last to take refuge in
Damascus, where they are to suffer seige,
be overthrown, and perish ; —upon which
the end of the world will come. The im
pression, produced by such reports, accor
ding to this gentleman, is so strong, that ma
ny Mahommedans in Constantinople will not
bury the bodies of their friends on Europe
an ground, but convey them to the opposite
coast of Asia; while somo of the more
GO YE INTO ALL THE WORLD AND PREACH TjE GOSPEL TO EVERY CREATURE.—J KSVS CnRIST
MOUNT ZION, (HANCOCK CO. GA.) JULY 15, 1822.
wealthy make Damascus their sepulchre.
This coincides in no small degree with what
■is stated in the Report from Karass, and
tends to shew that these forebodings of dis
comfiture are probably very extensively
circulated in Mahommedan countries.
Nor is it unimportant to add, that several
of the circumstances alluded to, as well as
those stated in the Report, are considered
by Mahomaedans in general as presages of
the resurrection and final judgment. Os
these events the Koran itself does not spe
cifically mention any distinguishing signs,
though it frequently alludes to them. Tra
dition, however, abundantly makes up for
this defect in their sacred book, pointing out
no fewer than eight less , and seventeen
greater signs of their approach. Among
these are, decay of faith, i. e. of attachment
to Mohammedanism ; —tumults and sedi
tions ;—a war with the Turks ;—the -sun’s
rising in the west, which some imagine it
originally did war with the Greeks, and
the taking of Constantinople by the Jews;
—the coming of Antichrist, whom they call
Masih al (fojeel, i. e. the false or lying
Christ, or simply al Dajtel ; —the descent of
Jesus on earth, who they imagine is first to
appear near Damascus, when the people
are returning from the capture of Constan
tinople;—war with the Jews; —an eclipse
of the moon ; or according to what Moham
med himself is reported to have said, three
eclipses of that luminary, one of which will
be seen in the east, another in the west, and
(he third in Arabia, &c.
See Sale’s Koran. Prelim. Disc. 4.
From the Southern Intelligencer.
ON SLAVERY.—No. I.
Mr. Editor. —lt is a common and just re
mark, that prejudices, against large com
munities of men, or extensive portions of a
country, are generally not only entirely un
just, but also evince a very special want of
candour or information. And yet such pre
judices are very common and very perni
cious. Especially in one important instance,
they are so general, so unfounded and so in
jurious as to cause deep regret in all who
have at heart the best interests of society.
I allude to the feelings and impressions
which the people of New-England, and the
people in these Southern States, mutually
cherish relative to each other. An ordina
ry degree of observation must convince any
one, not only of the actual existence of
these local prejudices, but of their power
ful influence and pernicious tendency ; and
ot the formidable barrier they oppose to the
diffusion of that harmony of feeling, and
community of interest, so essential to our
national union and prosperity. It i9 true we
find men in both sections of the country, of
such enlarged information and liberal feel
ings, as to be above the influence of these
narrow views and grouadless jealousies.
But this does not affect the present question,
i ev *ls we now contemplate, arise from
the popular prejudices of the great mass of
a community who never quit their natal
spot, and rarely lose their hereditary senti
ments and associations. The common foun
tains of general opinion are poisoned with
jealousy and envy, and diffuse a pestilent in
fluence of local hostility through all the
lower grades of society. That such is the
real state of feeling, between the northern
and southern portions of the United States,
it would be in vain to deny, and useless to
conceal. And it is equally futile to disguise
the truth, that the most serious evils have
already resulted from this lamentable state
of publick feeling; or to attempt to dispel
the apprehension of still more extended and
calamitous consequences. These hostile
feelings arise partly from ignorance of the
real slate of society, on both sides, partly
from popular and traditionary falsehoods,
but chiefly from a deep-rooted envy of what
is deemed an unrighteous prosperity on the
one part, producing a consequent acerbity
of feeling on the other. Or in short, the
origin ot this evil, so wide in its extent and
so pernicious in its effects, may be dicectly
traced to the slavery existing in these south
ern states. Publick opinion and at
the north, are influenced by the most violent
and obstinate prejudices, upon this subject,
in part by’ false impressions and misrepre
sentations—in part by a sincere abhofrence
of what are believed to be flie enormous
evils of the system—and in part, it is to be
feared, by the envy of their neighbours en
joying a source of ease and affluence, from
which themselves are excluded.
And the prejudices which exist here,
arise from misinformation as to the charac
ter and situation of the northern people—
trom the reaction of hostile feelings—and
from the peculiar characteristhcks acquired
by being educated in the midst of a slave
populating.
You must be folly sensible, Mr. Editor,
of the correctness of my remarks, as to the
popular prejudices of the great mass of the
community of New-England, upon this sub
ject. The common people there, in think
ing of the south, have their imaginations
filled with chains and fetters and dungeons
and instruments of torture—their children
are taught to shudder at pictures of naked
lacerated wretches, driven in chains to in
cessant toil, by the merciless lash of a cruel
and hard hearted master, and thus groaning
out a hopeless life, amid stripes and blood,
and tears and despair. They are Jed to be
lieve, that the description of an English po
et, sq continually read in all their schools,
falls far short of the reality.
Lo where to yon plantation, drooping goes
A sable heard of human kind, while near
Stalks a pale despot, and around him throws
The scourge, that wakes, that furnishes the tear.
With these early impressions and associ
ations, it is not wonderful that they should
indulge the strongest prejudices against the
southern people. That they should con
ceive of them, as multitudes really do, as
haughty, unfeeling oppressors of suffering
humanity—as cruel, heartless slave drivers;
as luxurious tyrants, exulting in the spoils of
their famishing victims—without one hu
mane or liberal feeling, and without the
smallest pretension to morality or religion.
Such, 1 awer are the actual impressions
of tlousands in the northern states. They
hav; never lost sight of their native hills,
but .hey have heard much from their aunts
and grandmothers of the sad places far to
the south; where the poor black slaves
are; and with such information their opin
ions and feelings are such as might natural
ly be expected. You will not suppose 1
have included literary men, or the enlight
ened inhabitants of commercial towns, in
this description. I have described the gen
eral impressions of the ordinary classes, the
great mass of population, where publick
opinion and prejudice reign with an efficient
and resistless sway.
Equally unreasonable and equally uncon
querable are the prejudices of the same
classes of society in these southern states,
against the Yankess, as they term the north
ern people; all oi whose violent opposi
tion and undisguised hatred are promptly
met, and repaid by immeasurable contempt
and hearty abhorrence. In many parts
where the northern people are usually seen
in the form of tin-pedlars, and venders of
wooden clocks and “ wooden nutmegs,”
the popular opinion of them is formed from
these representatives. And the idea of
New-England is that of a vast community
of notion-makers and raisers and sellers,
who live by cheatiog their neighbours;
who, having no servants, are obliged to
wash their own clothes, to cook their own
fish, and to prepare their own pork and
molasses—selfish, narrowminded and un
feeling; who, as the ignorant Georgian ex
pressed it, never weep but when iliey ale
weeding their onion 9; and never blush but
when they are hammering their tin.
And even among the more enlightened
and liberal, who have porrect views of the
intellectual elevation ‘and literary excel
lence and cultivated state of society in
New-Engiand, tbpre still exist deep rooted
suspicion, contempt and prejudice, which
raise a strong harrier against that cordiali
ty and confidence, so desirable, and which
would be so essentially advantageous to
both parties. And these local prejudices
and unfriendly feelings on the part ofsouth
ern people, are greatly exacerbated by a
knowledge of the impressions and feelings
and wishes so fully expressed at the north,
upon the subject of slavery.
Nor is it to be expected, that a very
ready credit should be given here, to the
claims of conscientiousness and disinterested
-incerity on the part of the northern oppo
sers of slavery; when it is recollected that
the importation of Africans, while it was
permitted, was almost exclusively monopo
lised by New Englanders.
It is unquestionably true, that these facts
have no real connexion with the general
character or opinions of New-England; but
popular prejudice will never discern the
distinction.
It is therefore, on the whole, evident,
that the injurious local prejudices between
the northern and southern states, all origin
ate in errours and misapprehension upon
the subject of slavery.
In the hope of removing some of the ob
stacles, which prevent that cordiality of
feeling, which would promote the heat in
terests of all, it is my purpose, Mr. Editor,
tp write a series of short papers, upon this
subject; to be inserted, if you think proper,
in the Intelligencer, designed to give a fair
and candid explanation of many things,
which have been misunderstood or misrep
resented ; and thus remove the. causes of
prejudice and jealousy.
1 consider your paper a peculiarly appro
priate medium for such communications;
not only because it is devoted to the diffu
sion of peace and good will among men, but
also because it is now circulated, in the in
teriour of the northern as well as the south
ern states.
* A CAROLINA PLANTER.
RISE AND PROGRESS OF THE BAP
TIST MISSION IN THE EAST.
From the Rhode Island Intelligencer.
Mr. Editor, —Could I persuade myself
that the generality of your readers take no
interest in the subject of missions, derive
no pleasure from hearing of the triumphs of
the cross in pagan lands, and have no sym
pathy for the wretched heathens, who are
perishing for lack of knowledge, and pol
luting the very earth with their abomina
.tioos, I should not trouble either them or
you with the following remarks. But lam
otherwise persuaded. lam confident thatj
where the love of Christ is, there will be
true joy over every sinner pf whatever!
Price 5 $3,50 pr. ann. or, )
l $3,00 in advance. \
country or condition, who turns from the
evil ol his ways and breaks off sin by right
eousness. Where the love of Christ is not,
we in vain look for any participation in the
spiritual welfare of others. Under these
impressions 1 send you a very brief sketch
of the rise and progress of the Baptist Mis
sion in the East. It was written for a pri
vate purpose, but thinking that it might be
beneficial to some, it is communicated fot*
insertion in your valuable paper.
Until the year 1793, Hiodostan had nev
er been blessed with any permanent estab
lishment for the diffusion of religious in
struction. That truly benighted part pf
the earth had never enjoyed the saving
benefits of Christian knowledge. Notwith
standiug the pious and gratuitous labours
of the indefatigable Swarls, the Hindoos,
as they had. done from time immemorial,
gave themselves up to all the cruel and
abominable tices of pagan idolatry and
superstition-. ‘These labours probably
were not without their effect, but the pre
judices ot the natives were too strong and
inveterate to be suddenly removed. The
son continued to sacrifice the father in the
waters of the Ganges, and the father the
son. The widowed mother threw herself
upon the funeral pile of her deceased hus
band, and her first born uindled the flame
which was to consume alike the dead and
the living. The devotee fell down a wil
ling victim before the bloody car of Jugger
naut, or caused himself lo be buried alive
in the earth. The light of revelation had
never beamed on those fearful solitudes of
moral darkness, and the light of nature had
become almost extinct. It glimmered but
faintly ; and iustead of keeping the appear
ance of day, it resembled the moon beams
through the clouds or the twinkling, of a
distant star. Compared with civilized man,
the Hindoo formed a melancholy con rasi,
and presented a humiliating view of the ex*
treme degradation of which the human
mind is susceptible.
Such was the condition of the vast popu
lation of Hindostan in 1793; when two
gentlemen, Dr. Carey and Mr. Thomas,
stimulated by an ardent desire to spread ti e
gospel, relying on the sure word of prophe
cy, and trusting in the promises of Him who
is without the shadow of
turning, sailed for Engi-i-id and fixed them
selves at a place called Muduabatty, on the
banks of the Honglv, i .rly miles above Cal
cutta. Here, fai from home, unacquainted
with the manners and language of the na
tions, and pressed on ail hand by wards,
which were but scantily supplied by the so
ciety under whose patronage they had em
barked, they for a time undertook the su
perintendance of some British indigo manu
factures. They did no however, lose
sight of their object as missionaries. Be
sides, this situation afforded them the dou
ble advantage of providing for themselves
and families, at the same time that they
were learning the language of the country,
and gaining much valuable information, re
specting the moral condition of the inhabit
ants. In this way passed several of the first
years of the mission. Early in 1300, eight
additional persons, four men and four wo
men, were sent out to the mission. Among
this number was the Rev. William Ward,
whose recent tour through this country,
has diffused much valuable missionary in
telligence, secured to himself the friend
ship of every denomination of Christians,
and proved the liberality of the American
churches. The seat of the mission was
then removed to Serampore, situated on
the Hoogly, fifteen miles N. of Calcutta.
This place still continues to be the seat of
the mission.
Here the missionaries formed themselves
into a little society for the purpose of pub
lick worship, and passed several resolutions
for the regulation of their conduct. They
agreed that “ no one should make any pri
vate trade, but that whatsoever was pro
cured by any member of the family should
be appropriated to the benefit of the mis
sion.” They met together every Saturday
evening, for the purpose of settling any dif
ference which might haw occurcd during
the preceding week. They embraced
these opportunities to mingle their pravers
for the success of their labours, to make
mutual exhortations and strengthen e.,ch
others hands, to persevere in their arduous
but benevolent undertaking. They were
like a little bark upon a boundless ocean,
known to themselves alone, • but still like
faithful Abraham, they were not staggered
at the promises. With united zeal and con
fidence, they commended themselves, and
the cause which they had espoused tp the
great head of the church.
By this time, Dr. Carey had made such
progress in the Bengalee language, as to
have succeeded in translating into it the
New Testament, and the greater part of
the Old. They began also to preach to
the Hindoos in their own native tongue,
the unsearchable riches of Christ. Al
though portions of the Scriptures had beon
some time translated, they were unable to
print them on account of the difficulty of
procuring types and presses.
S*ven years had now elapsed siuce they
left their home, country, friends ansi kin
dred, to carry the gospel to the heathens.
During that time they had been much ex
posed to fatigue and deprivations. An ip-