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stand Mr. Conscience. When he was about to
be sworn, the Counsel for defendant rose an ob
jection to him as being a party interested, and
therefore unlit to testify in the matter.
The Court held that the interest of Mr. Con
science was so remote that it could not disqualify
him any more than it would any good citizen on a
trial between the people and an individual and
he therefore could not be excluded on the ground
of interest. Mr. Conscience was then sworn.
Witness. I am well acquainted with both
plaintiff and defendant in this suit. The plain
t.tr I know to be one of the first inhabitants of the
country; his character for sobriety and useful
ness has never been disputed; he is ever a wel
come guest in long draughts in hot summer days;
in raging fevers he is the rop. - ’ 1 grateful compan
ion, and without him the woX|d could not exist,
so essential is his presence to all animated and
vegetable life.
well, what do you know oflhc defendant'!
I wish I could say as much for him. 1 know
him to he an usuqjer, one who has forced himself
into society, and is ol recenf parentage compared
with the plaintiff; his character is that of a thief;
he steals the widow’s last morsel—a robber, for
he robs the wife of the a factions of her husband
—a liar, for he deceives the poor inebriate when
he promises him relief from the remorse of con
science he himself lias (Wealed —a slanderer, for
he abuses the wholfjnost of toe-totalers—a mur
derer, for he drivi-s4iie poordrunkard to end his
miseries by suicides or causes him to lay violent
hands upon hi* nhart-brokcn wife and suffering
children —Suicide, for he leaves the wretch he
has robbed of his health, his property, his charac
ter amllreason, to die of the accumulated diseases
his society has produced. I know the witnesses
orrtlic part of the plaintiff; the first, Mr. Socia
bility, is a man of excellent disposition when far
from the vices ofthe defendant, easy and agreea- !
ble in his manners, a man of truth and veracity ; ;
but easily led away by the cunning and design
ing. The second witness, Mrs. Goodman, is a
lady of high standing in society, and suffered
much by tiie acquaintance her deluded husband
had formed with the prisoner at the bar and the i
whole host of his swindling connections. I know
her relation to bo true, and that she has kept back
many things out of delicacy of feeling, for she had
said nothing about the moderate and fashionable
drinkers and a host of vagabonds that are daily
seen around the large hotels and tipplings shops !
in the city.
What do you know about the witnesses for
the defence 1
Why, sir, Mr. Porter House, Mr. Brewer,
with others, have again and again, it is well
known, been found guilty of being accessary to j.
every species of crime on the Callender of this
court and all the other courts in the country, so
that I need not state that their testimony should
be taken with great caution, to say the least of it.
By the plaintiff. What do you know of Mr. j
Antiquary, as to truth and veracity I
I have the strongest reliance on what he as
serts, and believe he would not designedly de
ceive; his statement ofthe origin of the prisoner
at the bar, and its antiquity, is in the mam cor
rect; he however forgot to state that the defend
ant, after all, is but the illegitimate offspring of
the ancest'.y ofthe plaintiff in this case, and that
he, like the serpent in the Garden of Eden,
sought to beguile the true heirs of the crowd and
place himself on the throne of Reason.
Here the testimony closed.
The Court adjourned to meet again next week,
when the argument of counsel will bo heard, and
the case go to the jury.
The Delirious Sailor.
*•**•**•
Suddenly Amos roused himsclffrom one of his
lethargic fits—“ The demons are after me,” cried
he. “ There they are, grinning, grinning at me,
and gnashing their teeth. I see their eyes of fire,
and their horrible looking visages. They seek to
chastise me with their red-hot iron scourges. Oh!
how they scowl, and hiss! while afctream of liv
id fire issue* from their mouths! And now they
rush towards me! Awav! away! 1 will not be
taken and thrown among the loathsome, veno
mous reptiles in that deep and dark pit! Keep off!
keep off! I will not go with you!”
Saying this, and uttering screams of terror, this
unhappy being, exerting a preternatural strength, j
burst from the bands which had confined him
during the night, and, in spite of Sampson’s ex
ertions,Athrew himself from his berth. He
sprung to the fore-scuttle, and pushed the cook,
who sought to prevent his leaving the forcastle,
with violence against the hulk-head. He rushed
up the ladder, and in a moment was on deck, ful
ly impressed with the idea that a legion of devils
were in close pursuit, bent upon torturing him to
death!
His appearance at this moment was singularly
wild and terrific—he was clad in no garment,
excepting his shirt —his long black hair hung in
elf-locks on his shoulders—his eyes were lighted
up with the fires of insanity—his teeth were firm
ly set, and his lips apart, exhibiting a ghastly
grin—his visage was haggard, bearing the stamp
-of unutterable woe—and Tiis voice was clear, and
shrill, and unearthly, as he cried out, “() help
me —for God’s sake help me. Save mo from
those devils, who are clutching me. Away—
away—away ! Ah ! they have got me now. I
feel their burning breath on my shoulders. Oh,
mother--MOTHER—help your son! I feci
their talons buried in my Ihroat—and thus, and
thus 1 dash them ft the earth !”
Here the hapleSs sailor escaped from the hands
of Mr. Culpepper and Ned Hopkins, who had
seized him as he was running aft, after having,
! with almost incredible agility, leaped over the
I windlass and the fife-rail. He sprung upon the
| break of the quarter-deck, and was instantly
! within the powerful grasp of Capt. Branchbill—
j but notwithstanding his great strength, he was
| unable to arrest the career of the madman to de
struction. Amos caught the Captain by the
windpipe, and compressing it with all the fury of
madness, threw him, as if ne had been a dwarf,
with tremendous force against the binnacle —arid
in a moment after, the maniac was standing alone
on the taffra’l, unincumbered and tree. With
one hand he pointed to the fathomless deep,
which seemed to yawn beneath his feet, end he
fiercely shook the other at his fancied pursuers—
exclaiming in a hollow but exulting tone, “Ac
cursed fiends! I have escaped from your witlier
ing g r asp. I am now beyond your reach, and I
defy you! Ha! ha! ha!” and his maniac laugh
swept over the face of the waters, and sent a chill
to the bosom of his shipmates.
A rush was made by the crew to the stern ot
the ship to save the unhappy roan from the fate
which he involuntary seemed to covet. Butere
a hand could he laid upon his person, he sprung
high in the air, and alighted in the waters,
over which the ship had just passed. He disap
peared for a moment beneath the surface, and
then his head suddenly rose high up above the
waves. The poor fellow uttered a shrill and
piercing shriek—a shriek which seems to be the
very embodiment of horror—and which rang in
the ears of his shipmates for days, and months,
and years afterwards. He then sunk beneath
the waters, and was never seen again.
The main-top sail was laid aback—the quarter
boat was lowered, and manned—Mr. Ringbolt
himself sprung into the stern seats and seized the
tiller, and the boat was shoved off and pulled in
the direction ofthe ship’s wake, where A mos was
! last seen—but no trace of this miserable victim of
, intemperance could be found. The waters
which had parted to receive him, were now clos
ed over him—and not a ripple remained to mark
the spot.
j Such was the fate of Amos Chauncey !
A Truthful Sketch.
Wesom6 time ago stated fliat the cause of
temperance was fast though silently extending in
this city. Every day’s observation confirms us in
the truth ofthe assertion. We look upon thepo
! lice court as a pretty fair barometer o! the alcohol
ic atrnostpherc; and this, inthe plainest language,
proclaims “ fair weather.” Some two years ago,
the docks of the different police counts used to he
literally crowded with abandoned drunkards and
wretched debauchees; now but few of them are
;to be seen there. The change which the alter
ed state or things has effected in the life and con
dition of several, is strikingly perceptible, and
gralifyingly favorable. One example, which we
now proceed to give, will illustrate tho ease of
j hundreds.
Before the introduction or propagation of tem
perance in this city, there lived here a shoemaker
—and here he lives still; hut lo! what a change
has come over his mode of life, his domestic com
fort, and his prospective hanpinness! He then
wotked hard and drank hard, and lived in filth
and wretchedness, tie resided in a dirty, dingy
shanty, in an obscure street. It might be said to
have been his
Which served him tor parlor, for kitchen and
hall.”
Filth was its ruling feature, and musty, superan
nuated old shoes iis principle furniture. A bed,
to lie on which seemed positive torture, occupied
one corner; a ricketty, sheet-iron stove the other.
His seat had a place before the door, on the cen
tre ofthe floor; and a piece of board nailed to the
wall, as a halt shelf, on which were thrown, in
disorder, a whiskey bottle, never full, but often
empty, a smoked tea-pot with a broken spout, a
tumbler, broken near the brim, and a few other
table utensils, formed the furniture of his house
and home. He looked, as intemperance ever
looketh, bloated, sottish, and blear-eyed.—
Through the week he went unwashed and un
shaven; and if on Sunday lie staggered out to
the barber’s, his trembling step ami debauched |
appearance seemed to impregnate the mosal at
mosphere with impurity.
His wife was the counterpart in appearance of
himself, draggled and shattern-looking;—-her
clothes were ragged; she wore her shoes slip
| shod, and her physical as well as her mental en
ergies seemed to be partially paralyzed,
Such was the depth of degradation in which
they had sunk when, some six or eight months
since, they conjointly joined the temperance socie
ty, and resolved forever to eschew the demon al
cohol, and all that intoxicates. They have re
ligiously adhered to their Pledge; and behold the
metamorphoses which it has effected in their
mode of life, their social and moral condition !
The reformed drunken shoemaker is no longer
the tenant of the loathsome hovel which, in the
days of his intemperance, he occupied. He now
rents a neat, clean house with several apartments
in a respectable neighborhood. His shop is taste
fully fitted up with glass cases, in which are dis
played his shoes and boots, and a goodly stock of
un wrought leather is to be seen on his shelves.
He dresses well, and looks happy and cheerful.
On Sunday, he is to be seen kneeling by the side
of his wife at church, who is equally clean, tidy
and contented as he is. And this, all this, has
been brought about by the moral magic of tem
perance.
This is no fancy sketch; we have the parties
at this moment in our mind’s eye, and cannot but
bless the cause, and call it a good one, which has
effected on their destiny such a regenerating in
fluence.—N, O. Pic.
Jolin Hawkins.
Doubtless all your young readers have heard of
John Hawkins, of Baltimore, the great advocate
of and lecturer on temperance. He was once an •
intemperate man, and neglected his family and
all his duties, and associated with men of degrad
ed character and habits.
And how do you think his reformation was ef
fected 1 Through the instrumentality of his .
daughter Hannah, a little girl of twelve years of
age. She loved her father, and wept for his de
graded condition. The particular circumstances
which brought about his reformation, are related
in a thrilling manner by Mr. Hawkins himselt,
and are, in substance as follows: x
“ After having been drunk every day for six
weeks—and he prayed God that he might re
member the day untd bis death, he was lying one
morning in bed, his wh’skey bottle at his side,
and in such a state of mind that he feared he
should commt some horrible dime-- -when he be
gan to ask himself if it were possible for him to be
saved! His conduct towards his family had
been such, that his daughters had, one by one,
been taken from under his control, all but the
youngest, and they had come back for her, but
she refused to leave him. “Though all the
world foiseke him.' said she “1 never vviil. 1
have stood by him thus far, and will yet.”
Well, he beard her, on the morning referred
to, coming up stairs. He did not wish, in his
stale ot mind, to see one who had thus stood by
him—he covered bis head with the bed-clothes,
but he felt her at his side. She wished to sav
something to check him, but fea’ed to do so. His
mental suftering at this lime was indescribable,
be t rembled from head to foot.
At length, in a faint voice, she said —“ Please
father don't send me for any more whiskey to
day." He had some feel ng left, and her kind
wishes came home to his heart, but he ordered
her in an abrupt manner to leave the room. She
left him, but her feelings were deeply injured.
“Mother,” said she, “please to go up stairs to
father —I did not mean to wound his feelings."
“ What, said he to himself, 1 and am I so brutal
as to wound the feelings of a child who so loves
me!” 1 heard her comingagain, and again cov
ered myself. She knelt by the bed-side. What
she was doing was then unknown to me, but it is
now known that she was offering up a .dent
prayer for her degraded, disgraced, and wretched,
but still beloved father.
She gently raised the clothes, and he gave her
one piercing look; his arms were extended —
“ Hannah come,” was all that he could say, but
with aery of joy, she was the next moment clasp
ed to the bosom of her father. From that mo
ment he determined that another drop of alcohol
should never pass ids lips, and in the strength of
God, he has thus far kept his pledge.
That night he attended the place of meeting of
the Washingtonians; the pledge was read to him,
he walked up to the table, signed his name, and
delivered Mr. Kum over to the proper authorities.
This was all done without the knowing of wife
or daughter. That night, when he returned
home, as he closed the door, he knew from the
glimmering light at the head of the stairway, that
his daughter was listening to know whether the
door opened drunk ot sober. The result was
satisfactory; and in the strength of God, every
door opened and shut by him hereafter should
open and shut sober.
The effect produced when he informed his wile
and daughter that he had taken the pledge, he
described at length. Often since, when far from
home, has he blessed God for the joy which that
hour had brought to wife, family and friends.
[ Youth’s Medallion.
Temperance.
The following is a good story of a Scotch min
ister, not fifty miles from Kelso, who preached
against dram-drinking:
“ Dramming,” said the good old man, “is an
oJiou3 vice, hateful to God and all decent bodies.
It is not that I’ll object to a dram now and then,
in reason and moderation; but to the dram, dram,
dram, dramming, morning, noon, and night—oh,
it’s just abominable! "Vcmay take a dram be
fore breakfast, to keep the cold out of your* stom
ach, and a dram after breakfast just to settle the
dried haddock, or kipper’d salmon ; but we maun
na be always dram, dram, dram, dramming. And
I’ll not object to a dram may be at noon, when
ye’er overweary of fasting, and a dram before
dinner for a whet, and a dram after dinner for the
digestion, is a dram in season and a dram after
tea’s what no man will tak’ amiss, for tea’s a poor
slop, and hurtful to the stomach without a quali
fication; but as for dram, drain, dram dramming
everlastingly, it is a sair and brutal sin. Then
ye may tak’ a wee drappie before supper to gie a
kick to the appetite, and two drams after it, for
supper’s apt to be heavy without a moderate stim
ulus; and then ye’ll hold out I expect till next
morning without any thing m«er, but may be a
cup at your bed-side, in ease you may be dry in
the night. This ye may always do, for it’s all in
moderation : but tftnna be aye dram, dram, dram,
dramming—for it’s a hateful custom, and nae
Christian body will practice it.”
Mr. E. C. Delevan says, speaking of the
stomach drawings of Dr. Sewall:
I was much struck, the other day, by a reply of
a member of the Legislature to a gentleman who
was endeavoring to discredit these draw ings. “ J
am no doctor,” said the member, “ but 1 hope I
have some common sense. 1 know that temper
ate drinking colors the face; why should it not
the stomach I I know that intemperate drinking
blotches it also, and why should it not blotch the
stomach V’
Stand from under!
The mighty fortress of intemperance is totter
ing- It is Trembling, and the winds of popular
; indignation, are nobly aroused against it. It must
fall.
Strong arms and willing hearts are co-opera
ting in this noble undertaking.
The drunkard, the moderate drinker, the rum
! maker, the rum-seller, are all coming over to the
ranks ofteetotalism. The consumption, the sup
ply, and the sale, are daily and hourly decreasin -
The dealers a r e renouncing—the intemperate a
shaking off the trammels, and rejoicing in t'
strength ol their salvation. The moderate drin
er throws away his cup and cries, “stand fri
under!” Let the old fortress go down! Shes
stood long enough! The Babylon of vice a
uncleanness —ol wickedness and misery. 1.. t
her go down.”
The mother, the wife, the daughter, the sist- -
all join in the wo r k, with their prayers, tb r
wishes, their earnest efforts to bring down i
habitation ofthe monster —intemperance.
Stand from under! She must come! The
temperance cause is onward ! All who hang a
bout the old castle will be crushed. Run from it
for your lives! his the only safe course.— Uor
cteitr Hater fall.
Old Virginia.
In Virginia—Old Virginia —such an inter,
now prevails as has never been witnessed befo
The Teetotaler is doing execution there; a
when we come above the Blue Ridge, we find 1 ..
Good Samaritan battling away against the e ■
with a hearty good will, and throwing hot shot ir -
to the camp ofthe enemy. Keep your Virginia
guns smoking—lire away, for the enemy will du
llard on both sides ofthe mountains.
“ Why should’nt we, Captain Bingham, when
we tell you that Old Alchy gave it to us betwei n
wind and water, for about eight and twenty year
scarce giving us time to raise our head from th
lee scuppers but we have at last got to wind
ward, ami so long as we can bring our guns to
bear, we will rake old Alcohol fore and aft, and
amid ship, we will make h s old rotten hulk whis
tle with our cannister and grape. We see the
Washingtonians of Cincinnati have got the Al
coholic fiag at half matt, and we trust before you
complete tne.winlers campaign, that the trium
phant ensigrxofTeetotalism may proudly wave
over the Queen City ofthe West ”
The above is the reply of the Good Samaritan
of Winchester. The Editor is an “ < >ld Salt
hut is perfectly at home on tiie tripod; and
more welcome false do we ever see in our sanctum
than his.
Bang away, my good fellow. Pour in the sh *
hot and cold —fore and aft, and amid-shii*— b< *-
ween wind and water-thick as hail in a thui
dergust—till Old Alcohol strikes his colors ar, i
surrenders at discretion. And when the Demo
bids his minions spike that “ Long Tom” —like
brave tar, do you bid them— sjiil.e it if they can
Hazza! for the Good Samaritan:—she is a crait.
ofthe life-boat order—Old Alcohol can’t sink her.
Conscience.
A Washingtonian was at a wedding party a
few weeks ago, and after a number of gentlemen
had drank a good health to the newly married
couple, in bumpers of brandy, wine, &c, the tee
totaller, with a glass of puie cold water, drank
them a long and happy life. After he returned
to his seat, a gentleman by his side who had used
the ardent, and who seemed to be laboring under
some considerable remorse of conscience, said to
him, “ 1 did’nt know there was any water in the
room, or I should have done as you did.— Organ.
A Faithful Xcgto.
Dr. Hogan of the Vicksburg Sentinel, relates
an interesting anecdote of a negro belonging to
Dr. Emanuel ol that city. We copy it with as
full space as we can afford, and hope to see it re
published in every paper in the country, that is
not tainted with the rank infection ot abolition
ism. The Sentinel states that some months back
Dr. Emanuel gave his servant Richard permis
sion to visit his birthplace in Virginia, and he not
only returned, hut resisted all the persuasions of
the base abolitions to runaway and spend his
davs among them.
Richard was supplied with a pass and a letter
to his old master, in Lynchburgb, giving the Doc
tor’s reasons for allowing Richard to make fcis
visit; in his purse he carried upwards of one
hundred dollars in gold, besides a good supply of
silver coin for ready use. On bis arrival at
Lynchburg his old master wrote, at his instance,
intorming the doctor of it. He remained there
five weeks, and not meeting any person travelling
to the South, he commenced and continued the
journey alone, travelling by land to Gy
andottc, and on steamboats from that place to
Vicksburg. He remained a day at Cincinnati,
and intended stopping there a day or two longer,
waiting for a boat, but the abolitionists became so
1 troublesome and annoying to him, that he deter
mined to leave in the mail boat for Louisville,
and wait there for the boat, which he did. He
■ says that the abolitionists commenced their argu
ments and entreaties with him at Gyandotte, and
fi never let hint have any peace until he reached
> Louisville. He told them that he knew his own
I business best, and should return to his master,
I who treated him as well and allowed him as ma
- ny privileges ad he wanted. He reached home
t on Wednesday, the l3thinst. happy anddelight
\ ed to see bis friends, and to resume his duties in
? j the rough department of the doctor’s drug store.
N. O. Picayune.