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the people—when shall prosperity blossom in
our midst—when shall ruinrsl faith and credit
be restored—when shall mothers cease to nur
ture children, tainted by traitored fathers—when
shall the dear, loved ones of our land cease to
plight their vows to those wiio know not patriot
ism, and who love not honor! Yes, fellow-citi
zens, these evils have come upon us—not because
wc were so stupid as not to know our interest, or
how to protect them—or, because we were so de
praved by nature as not to love ami cherish virtue:
They have come upon us, and though the reason
is melancholy—it is appalling; yet I must de- j
dare it before you to-night—the people have ex- I
ercised the right and privilege of sell-government,
when they were morally, yea, even physically
incapable—they have voted at a time, and under
circumstances, when the act, for aught they I
knew, might have consigned themselves and pos
terity to perpetual destruction — Intemperance
has been abroad in your land, and these are its
fruits!
Let us next consider the remedy:
Patriots and Statesmen who have studied the
nature ofour popular form of government, have all
ugreed that Education and Morality are essential
to its purity and stability—otherwise those infir
mities, which wo ail possess—that craft and de
ceit, those evil desires and venal aspirations ofour
nature, would predominate and produce its over
throw : Hence you hear them crying aloud—En
lighten the head—purify the heart! Would that
this could be done; it would constitute a brilliant
era in our history. But even this much achiev- j
ed would not secure the permanency of our
empire. Behold the learning and refinement of
those republics long since mouldered into dust,
and that live now only in song. 1 would rather
confide the safety of our government in the hands
of an unenlightenid jieople, who were sober and
watchful, than to the keeping of the most enlight
ened populace, that was ever ready to sacrifice
reason and to prostrate themselves in the dust.
The people, therefore, must not only he wise and
virtuous—but they must be temperate!—With
out temperance, knowledge can lie easily robbed
and shorn of its power —and virtue ravished of
its beauty and of its charms. What avails all 1
tlie learning and honesty that can distinguish an
individual—they are useless and unprofitable to
himself and country, if they are not employed by
him who is at all times fortified against tempta
tions within and snares without. If a bod vote
has been given, or a criminal act committed, it
does not palliate the matter to know they were
the offences of a good, intelligent, and peaceable
citizen, when sober. If property has been stolen,
murder committed, reputation slandered, virtue
seduced -it is no up ilogy, but a contemptible ef
fort to screen tho offender, to urge the plea of
intoxication. Allow this as an excuse—sanction
drunkenness—you may then as well tear down
your jails; burn up your court-lmuses; demolish
your churches, those temples you have erected to
the living God ; and proclaim to the world, that
law and justice are cruel impositions to deprive
might of its power—that rel gion and morality are
unnatural restraints, to prohibit an unrestrained
indulgence in ad that a depraved, sensual nulure
could desire.—Do this, and tho work will have
been done—the question, fully, fairly settled- -
decided forever, that man is incapable of self
government. No, no!—the organization of so
ciety even in its present condition, is too great an
achievement of human wisdom, and is composed
of too much that is dear and sacred, to be placed
in such doubtful and hazardous keeping. And
to preserve it, and to improve it, we must remem
ber, that the price of liberty is eternal vigilance
Re member, that it can exist upon truth and prin
ciple—it cannot upon feeling ami impulse. The
people, therefore, must notonly be educated, but
they must lie at all times in possession of their
improved faculties and virtuous emotions—ready
to unveil the dark and hidden plot that lies be
neath the surface —to tear away the mask from
the face ot the demagogue, and expose his wily
devices—ready and competent to investigate with
an enlightened and liberal understanding, impor
tant questions coining up for decision. The
signs ofthe times admonish us not to be flattered
with the hope that our government can be purely
or safely administered withouttemperanee. It is
growing in population and in wealth, and whilst
that would constitute the strength of other na
tions, it increases in the same proportion the
elements of our ruin. The vast amount of for
eign nopula'ion crowding in up m us daily, are
indeed strangers, having but a vague notion of
our institutions, and illy prepared to appreciate
the rights and privileges they extend--they fly to
us for succor and for protection—they offer no
pledges of their intended loyalty—they have
none—we ask none!—the only evidence they can
give that they will learn our manners anil cus
toms, and imbibe our sympathies—that they will
obey, respect and defend our laws, is to live sober
and temperate lives. The sober emigrant will
become the contented, prosperous, and loyal
citizen.
Now, fellow-citizens, I have briefly touched up
on some of the evils to which our government is
exposed, from the abuse ofthe elective tranchise.
I have also said, that the spirit ofour free and lib
eral Constitution will recognize no other remedy
than that which thepeople will apply—and that
that remedy was Temperance. Indulge me a
short time longer, whilst l notice s >me ofthe
effects which the temperance reformation has al
ready produced.
In the first place, mind is no longer regarded as
a useless appendage; it is beginning to be found
of value to man, individually and collectively—
Patriotism too, that mysterious and metaphysical
something, that could only b# understood and
practiced by great and distinguished men, is be- :
coining more general and better understood; it is, |
to use a mercantile phrase, looking up in the ,
market—getting to be of a better quality—and |
cannot be bougnt now at any price, like cotton in i
your streets—What was nobody’s business here- t
tofore, is now the duty and study of every one — (
How to improve society and to advance human i
happiness. Influence and example are now con- |
sidered of importance; men valued and beloved (
as tl.eir influence goes to the promotion of virtue \
and the suppression of vice; character and re- }
spectability arc judged of by individual worth |
j and merit; the vain and emptv pretender cannot |
longer impose ujion community. Those habits
and customs, calculated to dissipate thought and |
prevent self-examination, are forsaken; thebcliet i
j that enjoyment and happiness consisted in vain.
< foolish and extravagant ifisplay, is exploded —
men are suffering less from wild imaginings and
! from overwrought pictures ofidcal happiness. In
a word, thcagjis becoming more utilitarian —sim-
plicity more in keeping with our republican in
stitutions —honesty and truth the pillars of socie
ty. Is not this great and desired revolution in
the character of individuals and condition of so
ciety, a matter for grateful exultation 1 And
did not these changes come upon the country at
a most propitious time, —when every thing was
wrong—in debt, confused and in despair —the
people exasperated and infuriated tho more at the
taiiure of this political measure and that political
scheme, which had promised relief, property, go
vernment, lile. was fast gping to destruction!—
| At this critical moment, we hear of a mighty
j power at work among the people—gently, kindly
and efficiently opening theii eyes to (heir true
j condit on, and imparting to the nation that mural
: courage it required, to probe the wound and to
apply the remedy. It enabled the people to prove
faithful to themselves ; they have thrown away
false and deceitful hopes, and to effect a thorough
cure, like skillful surgeons, they have cut beyond
the wound.
Again, 1 ask you to tell me, wbat has done
i more to restore confidence between man and man
! —to revive trade and to make tiling's assume a
j more cheertui aspect —than to see people living
within their means, and working hard to pay their
debts; tosee them quitting scenes, and shaking
i off associates that were daniningthein in the csti
j illation of the good and reflecting ; to see them ri
sing up in all their dignity and might, determined
to be free and to be rational.
Temperance has induced all this, and in doing
this, it has cut off the parasites and fungi that
were existing upon the lilc-tdood of the country.
Its principles are powerful and immutable; and
the |ieople who are temperate, with the blessing
of God, will surely prevail- -they cannot be con
quered—llis blessing upon their perseverance,
industry and economy, is all that is required.
Yes, it is temperance that lias enabled men to
bear un against those caresand perplexities which
have carried away midionsto premature graves,
and when amid all tlio gloom of debt and misfor
tune, in view of those trying ciiangesand reverses
which wc are called ujHin daily to wi ness, 1 des
pair not, because I see the |ico| Ic buckling on a
shield and a breast-plate that will defend the bo
dy, and enable the mind to triumph over these
little petty incidents, that mark its onward course
to immortality. Yes, we have been callej upon
by the providence of God, to pass through severe
national afflictions; but can you rai«e the veil »• t
futurity, and tell what would have been our ron
ililion, the amount of that wretchedness and an
guish, that torment and despair, which would
have rested upon the land, if instead of hearing
of this universal temperance movement, you had
heaid that the people would not be comfort
ed—that they were forming associations to drink
themselves to death—to march in drunken pha
lanxes into the presence of the Almighty. V\ e
have seen sufferings, but who can tell what our
eyes have been spared from beholding.
To you, fellow-citizens, who are still callous and
indifferent as t. the progress of a cause that has
done so much good to your county and to your fel
low men —you, whose eyes are so blind that ye
cannot seethe beauty and" loveliness it has thrown
over the face of society—whose ears are deal to
the songs of a rejotting jieople—whose hi arts can
not be touched by the plaintive eloquence oft hose
who are still crying out, save us from ruin anddes
]>air; —you, who are still unbelieving, though the
dead has aim -st been raised in your streets—to
you, I say, my language would be mockery, if such
. tacts as these fall to arouse you to action.
But to you, fellow members of the Washinto-
I nian Society- -you, who with Christian benevo
j lence have handed together to check tbe tide
|of dissipation which w uld have deluged the
land—you, who by your self-denial and persever
i aoce, have been enabled to build an ark of safety,
wherein to preserve millions who, but for your
. timely assistance, would have jierished in the
! coming flood—to you, I say, stand firm, be not
! dismayed. The good that has alreadybeen done,
has been effected by your philanthropy and patri
otism ; —but remember, the progressive improve
-1 inentof society and the benefits of this glorious
undertaking will depend upon your enterprize
and exertions—andtn.iugh your reward may not
now be commensurate with your toil, be not dis
couraged—let not the adversary conquor—Still
visit the wretched hovel —drag up the husband
and the father from the depths of iniquity into
which he has plunged himself, and restore peace
to the hearts of a despairing family; visit the
; dwelling of the thriving business man —remove
gently irom its accustomed place the intoxicating
goblet, and in its stead give that which, so tar
from s ealing away his constitution, perhaps his
independence, will invigorate and strengthen—
will enable Mm to enjoy prosperity, *nd to ris*
above adversity—nay, more; still frequent the
halls of fashion, and'therr, amidst crowds of rev
elling devotees, let your calm and consistent de
portment prove, that not in ttie wine cup, when it
was red, have you sought to drown the cares of
the present, or find forgetfulness of the future.
Go on in your work, and you will redeem
the country from vice and effeminacy—then will
history date the rise and progress of virtuous lib
erty to the influence of your example: and if in
your time and generation you do not see the ;
brightness ofthat day now dawning on the world
posterity will witness and enjoy it- lull splendor — •
it will rise up and call you Messed—your names j
will be ranked apong the ancient founders of our
libeity—you will he called blessed, because
through you that liberty will have been preserved. 1—
From the (Penfield) Temperance Banner.
The Influence of Temperate Drinking.
The experience of a distinguished lawyer of a
neighboring State, given in when he took the
pledge, is an affecting illustration of the deadly .
influence of genteel temperate drinking:
He rose, very much to the astonishment of
those acquainted with his opinions and habits,
and expressed himself somewhat to the following
effect, —Mr. President, until within a few days,
I have been opposed to your organization. I
have ever considered myself a friend to Temper
ance, at least to the extent that would restrain
men from making brutes of themselves. 1 had
no objections to Temperance Societies even, so
long as their members were limited to those who
could not control themselves, but 1 could see no
reason, why tho-e who were in no danger of in •
ju ing themselves, should take the pledge. 1
have ever kept spirits iii.iny house, have taken
my glass regularly three times a day, and have
always felt it a pleasure to invite tny friends up
to the side-hoard with me. My children gave
me no uneasiness while growing up. 1 congra
tulated myself, that the example of moderation
which I set them was salutary, and 1 did not
consider that the use of n little wine or brandy
would be injurious to them, or any body else
My tjgca have recently been opened to my in
correct opinions and selfish feelings, by an argu
ment that is enough, well nigh, to break the heart
of an affectionate parent My eldest son, who
was admitted to the bar a few years since with as
fair pros[iects as fall to the lot of most young
men,—who gave prorabc of a brilliant career in
the estimation of others than a doating father,
has recently been a source of much pain and
anxiety to me. Frequently, his flushed counte
nance and unsteady step, togi tiler with his late
hours andc irregular attendance on business,
ha'e given me reason to tear that all was nut
well, and roused all a parent's solicitude for him.
> ' r 7
Last week, he came home beastly intuxicattd.
\lr. Presiili nl, I l»d ever looked upon the drunk
ard as the most degraded ol'humui beings. and j
had never been prepared to anticipate (lie possi- i
hilitv, that such a disgrace should happen to inv
family. You ean judge then of my feelings of
mortification and grief, when the distressing
truth burst upon me. All my f. nd, yes ambi
tious hopes that centered in that boy, were des- |
troyed--my child was degraded, and my family
disjeaetd by a drunkard.
With all the injured feelings of an offended
father, I rebuked Iptm sternly, so sternly indeed,
as to rouse bis indignation, and to elicit from him
a reply which 1 can never forget so long as I am
coni|M'lietl to believe 'bat my poor bov is a victim,
and 1 his destroyer. “ Father,” said l.e “you are
the cause of my ruin. I have seen men drinking !
and intoxicated at grog-shops, and been disgust-1
ed; but when my father, in my presence, used
the article, habitually, in sueli a mai ner as to re- .
move all its grossness from it, it apjieared to me
very genteel to drink. I walked unto your side
board, too, regularly, and acquired a taste there,
which increased Upon me to such a degree that I
could never pass by a bar-room, or grog-shop,
without stopping to quench my thirst. Hnd
you drank to intoxication, I should now have
been a sober man, but the very gentility you have
imparted to the habit, has entrapped me, and I
am a ruined man.”
From the Organ.
JOHN HAWKINS.
At a recent temperance meeting, Mr. John
Hawkins related the following circumstances !
which occurred some months since in Brunswick,
State of Maine, where he went by invitation to
deliver an address. On arriving there an indivi
dual informed him that there was one of die most
desperate cases at a tan-vard in the vicinity, and
expressed a conviction that it would be useless to
attempt to save him; however they decided to
make the attempt, and started for the tan-yard. |
On their way they fell in with several gentlemen,
who, on learning their errand, resolved to accom
pany them on their errand of mercy. Ex-Gover
nor Dunlap, Dr. , and others who rank
high among their fellow men, were of the party,
“followin ,” as Mr. I :awkins forcibly observed.
“ the reformed drunkard to save the sunken and
hopeless inebriate.” The person they sought
whose name was Walker, was a man of gigantic
stature, raw-boned and muscular, but tearfullv
i■ had he fallen. As some one of the company
i made known their object in visiting biro, Mr.
: Hawkins observed the neck ofa bottle protruding
■ from his pantaloons pocket. Walker saw tli.
; glance, and ere a word bad been spoken by Mi
■ Hawkins, apologised to him—“ Indeed, sir, 1
; cannot do without it.”
The conversation now became general, and
, expostulation and argument for a while seemed
powerless. Turning to the doctor, Walke* ob
served to him, “ Sir, you know I cannot reform;
don't you remember the calculation we made
some time ago, that 1 had averaged one quart of J 9
liquor per day since my birth, forty-two years 19
a<ro, and do you now think I could stop drink
ing 1”
After considerable parleying he promised to at
tend the meeting that night, and then he took I
the bottle troin his pocket, and digging a hole in
a heap of tan, there buried it, saying, “ Lay there,
I’ll not take any more till to-morrow, anyhow.”
Then turning to those who surrounded him, !
“Oh,” said he, “when the horrors come upon
me, (as 1 know they will if 1 leave off,) will you
stand by me, will you help me 1 _ I will tell you
what 1 want you to do; get a chain and a staple,
drive the staple into the floor of the tan-heuse,
and secure the chain around my body, and then 1
keep by me. Will you promise me this 1” The
sympathising gentlemen assured him they would
do all in their power, if he would come to the
meeting that night and sign the Pledge, and left
him with a faint hope of effecting his salvation.
iN'ight came, Mr. f awkins went to the church,
and almost the first one he saw was poor Walker
in a front seat, apparently all eye and ear.
To use Mr. Hawkins’ own words, “When I
began to talk,” said he, “I talked at him, and
then I tried to talk into him, and at last the tears
began to flow; then 1 felt sure of him! I gave *|
the invitation for those who wished to sign to
come forward. Walker rose, stepped out into
the broad aisle, came up to the table, and grasp
ing the pen, leaned forward to affix his name,
when suddenly he dropped the pen, lifted both
hands above his head, clasped them, and thus
slixxl the image of despair, as he exclaimed, “ I
can’t write my name! 1 can't write my name !” yj
A thrill ran through the assembly, while the
wi etched man seemed losing the faint ray of I
hope, and yielding himself to dark remediless
despair. Mr. Hawkins seized the |ien, and
checking his des|iondeney, reminded him that
another could write his name, and he aftix his
I cross thereto, and it would be as binding as
I though entirely his own writing. Again Walk
| er stooped, and made a broad black cross in the
i place |x)inted out by Mr. Hawkins, who had
written his name, and then, with a glad trium-
I pliant glance at his handiwork, took bis seat.
The next morning Mr. Hawkins took his de
parture, and for a few months heard nothing
more about his piotege; but a few weeks ago, at
a camp-meeting, a Methodist minister informed
him, that there was to be a timponirtce mu ting
in Brunswick next sabbath, and Walker was to
relate his exjiericncr! jfl
Temperance in ihe Sandwich Islands.
The following cxtruct of n U tter received in
| this city, dated, Honolulu, June l3th. giving an
| encouraging account ofthe progress ofTempcr-
I tiuce in the Islands, will he read with much grati
fication.— [ .V. Y. Oigan
“ We have had a glorious reform commenced
in our midst The King and Chiefs have just
held their annual council; and, at that meeting, '
the King came forward and signed the total ab
i stinence pledge, from all that intoxicates, of both
native and foreign manufacture; a measure which
he would never listi n to for a moment, heretofore,
and so did all the Chiefs. The King has so
much improved in his conduct and digni'y, that
the common jicople have noticed it, and call him
the ‘New King.’ After signing the Pledge,
(which is a great deal more prohibitory than any
thing I ever saw in English,) they began to fix
. some penalty fora violation ofthe Pledge—some
proposed a line, and s me to have the name of the
! person found guilty published in the native pa
' per. After a few nnnutrs, the King rose and
said, ‘ for him to violate his Pledge and pay a fine,
would be only like cutting off his little finger p
hut to break his Pledge, and to be published as a
common drunkard, would bo like cutting off his
1 head.’ They finally agreed, that for the fiist of
fence,"the person should have his name erased in
a public meeting, called for the purpose ; and for
the second, be pu lished in the native papers as a
common drunkard.
It is now nearly two months since the forma
; tion oi the society, and they continue firm; and
we hope the day is not far distant, when this
people will be released from the ‘French bran
dies,' which that odious tieaty forced upon them.’ r
Warning to Drinkers of Whiskey.
The following from a London paper, proves to
what base and unprincipled expedients the ma
kers of the poison will resort for the purpose of
selling their infernal manufacture. How can
the vhiskey drinker on this side tile water, be
certain that he is not imbibing a quick poison"?
It is certain that he is imbibing a slow poison :
The recent instance of the sudden death of
'he police constable in Holborn, has brought to
I light an adulteration practiced, particularly by il
licit distillers and venders of whiskey, in the in
troduction of creosote, to give the celebrated
peat-reek flavor to common spirit. This adulter
ation, which is of the most noxious nature, is to
he feared, is very extensively practiced, and
should command the utmost vigilance ofthe ex
cise. Sud en death would be a certain result of
its being taken in any quantity, particularly in
an excited state of the stomach.
A physician remonstrating with a drunkard,
asked him why “he did not limit himself to a
ertain quantity jicr diem- set down a stake that
thus far and no farther will I go.” “ I do,” re
plied the drunkard, “ but I set tne stake so far off
that I invariably get drunk before I reach it,”