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THE WASHINGTONIAN: AUGUSTA, AUGUST .5, 1843. : 1 ■Bj,;a>Lai^ia»jß,,. ll i. . ~ ~—— —- i( 'nehinglOH Total Abstinence I’ledge. U't whose names are hereunto annexed, desirous of forming a Society for our mutual benefit, and to guard against a pernicious practice, which is injurious to our health, standing and families, do pledge ourselves as Gentlemen, not to drink any Spit itous or Malt Liquors, Wine or Cider. EDITORIAL COMMITTEE. Rev W. T. BbaKtly, Dr. P. M. Robertson, “ W J.Hard, Dr. D. H-.ok, “ C. S. Don, S. T. Chapman, Esq. " Geo. P. Pierce, James Harper, Esq. Col. John MillEdce, To Correspondents. (£?" The communication signed “So briety,” is received, and on file for consid eration. “J. G.” in our next. The se lection, “ Deacon Gile’s Distillery,” has been published in our paper. We refer our readers to the 4th page of to-day’s paper, for an account of the Proceedings of the Temperance Con vention, held at Penfield, in this State, on the evenings of the 24th and 25th ult. The Temperance meetings of this city, indicate a declension of the enthusiastic interest which has marked the progress of the reformation throughout this country and Europe, and W'hich even now charac terizes many other communities. What ever the decree of philosophy may be iis to the reaction consequent upon great excitement, it is not to be denied that the principle has been invested with a power and a certainty of result that does not ne cessarily belong td it, and has been stretched to cover an indolence and an apathy—the effect of meagre convictions of duty—the want of a sturdy determina tion to do right, rather than the unavoida ble sequence of a mental law. We often adopt an explanation of an existing state of things—a state injurious and to be de precated, not because its principles are legitimate and its truth demonstrable, but because it serves the purpose of conceal ing the true causes, and of exculpating those who really are to blame. We will not, however, at this time, discuss this general view of the subject, but would suggest to our readers to institute an in quiry into their individual cases—to search out the motives which have influenced them in their neglect, and seriously to de termine whether they are not culpable before God and the country for any lan guor in this great enterprise. We can hut think that the members of the churches are grossly guilty for their repeated absences from the meetings of the society. The disciples of religion ought to be ready “ for every good word and work,” and to manifest a decied and well sustained interest in every practicable scheme for good order and human happi ness. Let them attend in mass—shedding the light of their countenance upon the cause and its advocates, and saving the officers from the mortification and dis couragement of empty houses on succes sive eallsfora meeting. Their attendance ought to be regulated, not by the anticipa ted entertainment of a popular speaker, Gut by the intrinsic merits—the incalcula ble advantages of the cause. We ate inclined to think, if the society were to have their meetings monthly, and wore to select speakers not so frequently before the public as the ministers of the Gospel, the effect would be salutary.— While every preacher holds himself ready to recommend Temperance by his exam ple and his speeches, the very fact that nothing else is expected of him, subtracts from the interest of his addresses. Ano ther, who is not professionally, and as a mater of course identified with the right side, would be more efficient as a speaker. Let the Law yers—Physicians—the young men beginmng life—the intelligent of any class, who are pledged to the cause, be invited to speak, and the people will feel the attraction of novelty and rally from their dispersion. —— ** —— ! EDITORIAL COMMUNICATIONS. j . ■ _ - X- —. Messrs. Editors —l have noticed a pe culiarity consequent upon the use of spirit uous liquors, which has not yet received merited animadversion—it is theoflensive odour emitted from the body. It cannot .probably be characterised so as to be known before it has come in contact with the olfactory nerves; but when it has 1 once invaded the sensitive region of these iterves, it will be known ever afterwards : from all other odours. Besides its inhe j rent offensiveness, it has the additional Jdisgusting quality, of always producing in | the mind, the painful idea of sensual bond- I age and moral ruin. > I have perceived “ this mark of the , beast” on the persons offriends for whose welfare I had the most anxious solicitude, and the discover)- has made n.y hopes die ’ within me. Ah! who can tell the des pair of that moment? Language fails me—l will not attempt it. But I will say, : that these friends have committed the most aggravated offence against friendship!— . No man has a right to betray the confi . dence which friendship reposes in his . virtue ! In doing it, he becomes recreant 5 to the high and solemn ties that bind one honorable man to another. No man has a right to win love, respect and confidence i by a manly course of virtuous life, and l then chill all to death by vice and degrada ■ tion ! He is recreant to honor in doing i so; for he has raised hopes, only to dash them to the ground,—brightened faces, only to cover them with enduring shame, — loosened tongues to constant praise, only to paralyze them forever by his abomina ' hie vices. Tims have I been treated! I feel wronged, aggrieved, insulted. I must have satisfaction! The amende honora ble is imperiously demanded ; that is, as the case requires, a return to temperance and virtue, and the purification of the body from this horrible smell. Nothing else can satisfy me ; for nothing else can re store me to my self-respect—without these, I stand charged and convicted in my own bosom of wasting my affections on unwor thy objects. And if the case be so with the friend, what shall we say of that of the father?— the mother?—the wife?—the sister?—the brother?—the child? Oh! it places be fore us a picture too awful for contempla tion, —where nothing is seen but the fragments of the best affections, and the brightest hopes of the human heart.— Gloom and despair sit enthroned on the countenances of the figures in this picture. There is not one ‘cheering ray of hope : for in return for their love, their trust, their constant services, they have only, and always —the smell of rum. From him, from whom they had a right to expect and demand support, protection and respec table station—they obtain penury, insult, degradation, — and the smell of rum. Rum drinker! look at this picture, and then purify yourself from this stench; or, before high heaven, angels and men, I will pronounce you lost to every noble sentiment—every generous emotion. I have somewhat to say to professors of religion, who occasionally have the smell of rum, or peach brandy upon their per sons ; but as I shall deal xvith these per sons with ungloved hands, I am anxious to give them warning of the approaching storm, before its pittiloss peltings shall heat upon their defenceless heads. But if I smell the “critter” again—find my olfactories are keen and far-reaching—l will not spare them. 11. Gentlemen —lt is now nearly time to set out your Strawberry plants for the subsequent year. I have pursued the following plan with success, and have had more certain crops—larger and bet ter flavored fruit than under other sys tems of culture. I select my ground, and after spading in some well rotted stable manure, form it in ridges, three or four feet apart, and about six or eight inches high. The base of each ridge is about a foot wide. On these ridges I plant my sets, about five or six inches apart, taking care to have about every third or fourth plant of the male species—which an observant eye can easily distinguish and mark w'hilst the plant is in bloom. Having thus set ! out the plants, I fill the intervening space i between the rows level with pine straw, bringing it close to the sets. In this con- IIIIM lll■■■■■■ dition they are left, and only noticed in ■ order to replace such as die, until the - following spring, when I prepare a com - post of three quarters rotten manure and 1 one quarter lime and ashes mixed.— t The straw is slightly withdrawn, and t this sifted about a half inch thick over: ? the rows—The straw is then replaced, r and the row is kept free from grass or s weeds, and the earth slightly stirred s around the plants. s The advantage of the pine straw is, - that it keeps down the weeds and renders 1 the culture more easy. It also attracts i and retains the moisture, and prevents - the sets from suffering from excessive heat, or drought; and as it contains (ac-j J cording to Leibig’s Agricultural Chemis-i ? try) 8 or 9 pr. cent of potash, it is pecu-i , liarly suited as a manure to the plant. C. 1 Clover. ' The impression in this region is gener > al that Clover cannot be successfully ! cultivated. The secret of cultivating this i " crop consists in deep ploughing, careful ‘ sowing, at the proper season and the judi -4 cious shading of the tender plant from 1 the early heat of the summer sun, until ! its tap root has struck so deeply into the 5 earth as to reach the point of perpetual moisture. The soil must have a clay * foundation, so as to retain water—it must ■ be well cultivated, loose and free from 1 other grasses, it must be productive and 1 well limed, or plastered. It ought to be 1 sowed 20 lbs. to the acre, on a wheat ' crop, after that grain is fairly set, and during the winter months. Thus it will he protected until the month of June, after which it should by no means be pastured until the second year. The S. C. Planter has the following on this subject, and that of grasses gen erally : “It is asserted on high authority, in fact it has been demonstrated by actual experiment, that almost any of the Vir ginia and Kentucky grasses will grow luxuriantly in this State, if lime is added to the soil. We heard Mr. Ruffin re mark that he saw as fine clover growing in Edgefield, as he ever saw in Virginia, and Professor Ellet of the College, has a . small lot of it, which is said to be equal to , any that can be seen in the Northern States. Judge O’Neall has tried it in ’ Newberry we believe with very great 1 success, and so have many others. To make it, however, a really profitable pas ! ture, lime or ashes should be used: and . surely any planter may aiford enough of lime for at least a few acres. “The Luccrn we know grows well here, and for soiling, (that is, cutting and feeding in the green state,) is a very val , uable grass. The Musquite grass has , been planted several years by Col. ITarnp : ton, and if we mistake not, is a very va luable one : it grows luxuriantly, and af fords a very rich pasture. We shall en deavor to gain more accurate informa tion respecting it, and will refer to it again.” For the Washingtonian. > Messrs. Editors —Like all those who are endeavoring to do good, we have our enemies ; and these enemies, after they have tried one mode of attack and find it unavailable, immediately devise and resort to another. They seem never to tire in evil doing. The enemies of the temper ance cause in this place are seeking to get an idea abroad that our society is on the decrease—that there is not now the same interest taken in its success as formerly— that the members are daily erasing their names, or, to use a Christian phrase, back sliding. But I was happy to leam, the other day, from one of our most zealous brothers, that these statements are erro neous—that instead of a decrease in num bers, there is a decided increase ; and that now there are upwards of thirteen hundred members—and, comparatively, very few erasements. But, as I have already hinted, we must expect these unfounded reports to be put in circulation about us. We are ever} day gaining ground. Temperance is every where exciting general interest.— It is becoming the popular theme in other countries, as well as in our own, —and while it must excite the admiration of many, it cannot but arouse the envy and disapprobation of a few; for there are some people in this world, who would sell : their birth-right, not for a mess of pottage, s but for a gill of liquor, to gratify their , lowest animal appetites. In such people! • we may always expect enemies, unless by i acting upon the principle, the importance i of which, I desire now to urge upon your consideration, we get the great mass of ! mankind on our side, and then, perhaps, ■ rather than be unpopular, they will sign I [the Pledge. Perseverance is our only ■hope of success ; and it is the importance lofthis truth, which I wish now to fix upon the mind. Patient continuance in well ! (doing, will meet its just reward. The j immeasurable importance of this principle, , thfen, cannot be too much dwelt upon by i our orators, and our writers, —they should s never cease to ring it upon the ears ofthe : ' t people, for it is this principle that removes : difficulties mountain-like in their magni tude. It was upon this principle, acted out, that the great and good Washington ; left us the unqualified heirs of liberty, jboth in thought and action. Yes ? more : it was upon this principle, acted out, that the noble and Christian-hearted Paul, as it were, plucked us from the very dun , geons of superstitious darkness, and placed , j us, cleansed and purified, in the broad and open field of truth, luxurient with divine i richness and verdure. We owe, what good order, Christian benevolence and peace, characterizes the present age, to the adoption of this princi ple by many of our beloved ancestors whose life’s blood was the forfeit of their unbending adherence to it. I would, therefore, invoke the blessed shade of Washington—the glorified spirits of the martyred saints of old, —the example of Christ—and, in fine, the whole revelation ofGod, that I might impress the importance of this principle indellibly on every heart. It Is, as I have already observed, the all essential cause of our success. Oh ! in view of so praiseworthy, so desirable an object as the temperance reform, may all of us, who have put our shoulders to the wheel, conscious of the potency of perse verance, never release our hold, until with the eye of proud satisfaction, we behold the car of temperance arrive triumphant at its destined bourne—the reformation of all mankind. 11. J. S. For the Washingtonian. Messrs. Editors —ln glancing over the columns of the Washingtonian, I find fre quent notices of temperance celebrations throughout the country on the 4th of July. This seems to l>e rather novel, to celebrate deliverance from that, which formerly gave zest to the enjoyment of too many of those who participated in our national fes tivities. But, notwithstanding the exclu sion of intoxicating drinks, there seems to have been no lack of patriotic feeling on the occasion; but one spirit pervaded every bosom, and prompted to action every unclouded mind. At the dawn of this reformation, many, though fully convinced of its necessity, hesitated to lend their efforts for fear of defeat; yet some, inauspicious as the prospect seemed, did embrace, and have been actively engaged in securing its success. This cause must succeed, com bining all that can promote happiness.— Its foundation is the spirit of philanthropy, its guide intelligence, and its great design the elevation of man to his pristine digni ty. There is a combination of influences and interests in this cause w hich cannot be found In any other. However men may differ in their political principles, religious views, or secular feelings, when this cause presents its claims, all either unite heartily, or stand silent spectators, unable to urge an open argument against it. I am truly sorry, that some allow their interest to warp their judgment and blind their moral perception—that while they are willing to admit the ruin consequent upon intemperance, do not appreciate the means put in active operation to arrest its progress. Those use their secret influ ence to counteract the efforts ofthe Wash ingtonians ; they deter many, who might be induced to sign the Pledge, and others to abandon it, who had been restored again to society by its influence. Those, who are thus endeavoring to undermine this good cause, and curb that spirit of enterprise which has been so effectual in relieving the miseries of many, and re storing peace where sorrow reigned su preme, rejoiced when that enthusiasm ceased that characterized the advocates of the Pledge at its adoption, and gave them zeal to arouse the people to a just estimate of their condition and privilege—to un mask the native deformity of this vice, land to pourtray all the ruin oeeusioned by ?; its influence. And when other questions ri agitated the public mind, they fondly hoped f that speedy triumph promised would be defeated, and even that slow yet steady i progress would be so effectually impeded, y that it must die away amidst the disap ? pointment of its sanguine advocates. But i recent indications are enough to convince 1 any reasonable mind that the cause is ? prospering—it still survives the collision , of party feeling, and the contentions that y too often mar the face of the country. All 1 claim it as a common cause ; all selfish ? interests are merged for the cause of hu s manity, the public welfare, and the eleva tion of those principles that must give Ijtone and emphasis to patriotism, virtue l and religion. , Those, then, who have been active in : this labor of love, should not for a single t moment abate that zeal that has so signal sly marked their actions. The cause must -prosper, and I would rejoice to see the 1 time when this pledge will spread its ge- J nial influence throughout every land, and ? those who are now' the slaves of alcohol shall be restored to their families disen i thralled and free, amidst that joy and ; peace that mark domestic bliss when cares . are calmed, and the ills of file allaved. • L . r COMMUNICATED. ’ A. Friend T., how is it that you do 1 not take the ‘ Washingtonian,’ nor aid the Temperance cause with your purse? T. Because of my poverty. It is 1 unpleasant to confess it, but to you I may tell the truth—l am barely aWe to • support my family from day to day. A. My dear sir, you spend money 1 enough on cigars alone, to pay a year’s 1 expences of the temperance society ! ' T. True, but cigars are necessary to my health and comfort. A. So says the toper of rum ! Am an. I I The Drunkard's Wife In a Temperance |- Meeting. Upon that page, perhaps, the fond and faithful wife is gazing, heedless of the passing crowd. Her thoughts go back . to the dark ruined home she has just left w ithout a hope, and to her poor babes,., who, weak with hunger, wept themselves, to sleep. With borrowed cloak to hide • her destitution, she stole out at the dark ‘ hour, and mixing in the crrwd, found place amongst her fellows in poverty and C distress, who came at least to hear of a strange but simple plan for calling hack such wanderers as her husband long had ‘ been. And now she listens more intent -1 ly, for the language in all such as comes i home to her experience, and is level with 1 her understanding. The speaker muse have known her case. He tells of hopes,, but no—that never can he hers! If he were here—perhaps—and then a deepy ’ deep sigh bursts from her lips; but she > listens still, and more intently, to the f speaker’s moving words, until her heant . becomes too full; and she looks round , to see if any amongst her neighbors— for of friends she has none left—are ' there to profit by these words of touching ‘ truth. What ails the woman ? Whom - has she seen amongst the crowd ? Her , cheek is flushed with burning crimson, , and iter eyes arc bright with living fire. ft is—it must he he! She cannot he mistaken in her husband’s form, stilii ' beautiful to her. Far back amongst the ’ crowd he stands with folded arms, his r gaze intent upon the speaker’s face. No 5 smile of thoughtless folly flits across his , brow, but a deep earnestness is stamped i on every feature as he gazes on. But what is that w hich moves him now' ? A ’ simple tale of woman’s truth. The wife beholds him dash the tear drop from his r eye. A gathering mist is in her own, 1 but she forgets it all; nothing is present . with her hut that other self—that life in which alone she lives. Alas !it is all over: the speaker ceases, and the com ! pany break up. The w ife waits anxious -5 ly the moment when her husband shall . withdraw, thinking to join him at the . door ; yet fearing to intrude too hastily t upon his softened feelings, she stands patiently resigned, with folded arms up ’ on her breast, pushed here and there by 1 the receeding crowd, no one of whom , takes note of her or hers. Still there is • something to be done beside the platform f where the speaker stands, and numbers ( gather to the spot. A book is opened— a pen is offered—a kind and friendly ' voice invites the company to sign.— ■ Make way! the figure of a man advances i from behind. Make way! for wonder f glances forth from every eye. Behind , that figure is a female form—a shadow > —a pale, faded thing so feeble that she cannot stand, but leansupon his should ’er with one clasping arm. “There! I • have signed !” exclaims the man ; “and now, mv wife come home, and tet us