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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,”