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THE WASHINGTONIAN:
AUGUSTA. 'IARCH 16, 1844.
Washington Totul .IbtUnence Fledge.
We, ychost 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
Splritous or Malt Liquors, Wine or Cider.
* === EDITORIAL COMMITTEE.
Rev. W. T. Bramtly, Dr. P. M. Robertaon
" W.J.Hard, Dr. D. Hook,
* C. S, Dod, S. T Chapman, Esq.
'• Geo. F. Pierce, James Harper, Esq.
Col. John Milledge,
Q(7» To Distant SußtcnißEM.—Po»t Malters are au
thurized by law to remit money to the publishers of
newspapers and periodicals, in payment of subscrip
tions. Subscribers to the ffatkingtontan esn therefore
pay for their paper* without subjecting themselves or
the publisher to the expense of postage, by handing the
amount to the Post Master, with a request to remit it.
To Correspondents.
Wo have received a Temperance Ad
dress, delivered in 1836, the manuscript
is very illegible, atid if the author, who
desires it printed correctly , and requests
us to be very particular, would transcribe
it before publication, we might at least be
able to read it—ail it is however, we have
laid it aside, under the impression that a
few more years added to the number that
has already rolled over its head, would
place it among the number of ancient
documents, and thereby add to its in
terest.
“ D.” is rejected.
OCT In our last, in the communication
of “Youth,” an error escaped us in the
first paragraph— the word “immortality”
should read immateriality.
OCr JYehave received the first No. of
a nea tm printed little paper, published
weekly,|in Savannah, by Messrs. Gow &
Galloway, under the name of the “Morn
ing Star,” devoted to the cause of Tem
perance. It has indeed risen in the East,
and we do sincerely hope that it may not
in ita onward progress towards the West,
com 6 in contact with any foreign body
that might throw it out of its orbit, but
that it may travel on, shining brighter
and brighter as it rises in the firmament,
rivalling in brilliancy larger luminaries
that are now shedding their light on the
dark and benighted portions of our earth.
We have no doubt, but that the Wash
ingtonians of Savannah will sustain this
publication, and reward the zeal and en
terprize of its publishers. We are ready
and willing to do all in our power to give
it a generous circulation throughout the
length and breadth of our State—Those
who labor in the causa of Temperance
should help one another.
The Editor’s interview with the Publisher
“ Here,” said the Publisher,” is a bud
get of original communications—please
make your selections for the paper,” and
ho dashed them down before me, as tho’
their weight had burdened his heart.
“ Will you please read a few of them
for mo I you are familiar with the wri
ting.” “Certainly, sir, lam familiar
with them allhe commenced, and read
a few lines of poetry—“ Read me prose,
if you please, I have no ear for poetry.”
“ They are all poetic pieceß,” he said in
a tone of as deep despair as I ever heard
fall from the mouth of a man who had
so little apparently to lose by the declara
tion. “ Well, I presume you have read
them all.” “Yes,” said he, “over and
over again, and there is truth in woman’s
love: 6ome of these pieces have caused
my turn to grow strong with revenge—
here, sir, is a sad story,” handing me a
piece of blank verse, “it telljs of a heart
that has been broken and deserted ! and
the monster that could thus win and de
ceive, should be” “Stop,” said I,
keep cool; pass sentence on no one in
anger.” “Here, sir, is another! in whai
language can I describe to you the perfi
dy of one who could so cunningly
and successfully plan the ruin of another, i
as is portrayed in this short piece, by one
who signs himself‘Romeo.’ Here,” he i
continued, “is another, from the pen oi i
a young Bard, his theme is ‘My first I
love,’and though he writes with a pen;i
of steel, you can evidently see that his j
heart is soft, and he melts away info the i
arms of his Julia, so languishingly That,
[ shall feel truly rejoiced if the young
man is ever restored to his reason. And
sir, here is another! In this one, there
is depicted a scene of sorrow and
deep remorse! remorse seldom met
with.” “Stop,” said I—“enough—Tell
me, sir, is this an unusual or ordinary
weekly supply of poetry, or is it less than
is generally brought in.” “More, sir, by
far; but I account fi>r it because of the
approach of Spring; if I had no other
way by which I could tell when the trees
began to bud, when the flowers began to
bloom, and the birds began to sing—this;
accumulated mass of love, of moonshine,
of romance—would be sufficient to warn
me that the season of the year had come
when hearts too would swell and break.”
“ Leave me, sir, leave me, you are get-;
: ting poetic, too!” he vanished—‘aehange !
• came o’er the spirit of my dream’—l rose
. up, and felt like throwing off my thick
> and heavy garments, and longed to be
[ clothed in something more light and
ethereal. Thoughts of love which had
been frozen through the long winter, be
. gan to thaw, feelings of sentiment which
[ before were as cold as ice, began to flow
, forth, freely and warmly—l was almost
, about to rush to some romantic spot, where
> the music of the water, as it rolled o’er
. the moss-clad rock, would fall upon my
. ear, —where I could see the first opening
L flower of Spring turn its lovely face to
I meet the rising sun—where I could
I hear the voice of that little feathered
songster as it wooed from its lovely bow
, er, the partner of his summer’s joy—
When, in camo the publisher and
seized me by the hand, and with a sad
look and voice, he said, “ Sir, here is
another piece of Poetry ! fresh from the
pen, the ink has scarcely dried upon the
paper—it is a farewell ode—the author
desires its insertion, particularly, in our |
next paper—What can I do?— you must
say something on this subject—the Spring
has just begun to como in upon us, and
such enormous drafts upon my sympathy
will soon dry up the very fountains of
life itself. Help me, sir, help!”
Take tho poetry I said—make your
own selections, don’t interrupt me, and I
will say a few words on this subject to
your readers, in your behalf.
There is a class of our readers to
whom it is useless to say, bo temperate in
eating, in drinking, and in smoking ; be
cause extremes in cither, are inimi
cal to bodily health. There are some
who take the Washingtonian, who, from
strength of mind, and original purity—
have never allowed themselves under the
most trying and heart-rending afflictions,
to resort to such deceitful and earthly
sources for comfort and relief. They
have ever been disposed to contemplate
with a calm philosophic resignation, the
hand that has thus crushed their hopes—
because “ the power that gave, can re
store again.” But though we cannot ar
raign this class before us, fettered by
these vices, yet we cannot acquit them of
being addicted to a habit of a different
kind of intemperance, which is almost as
incurable, as either of the vices alluded to
—we mean the habit of falling in love.
Do not be alarmed—our remarks have
reference to both sexps.
Any one acquainted with the philoso- (
phy of love, will not marvel when we say it i
is a matter, not to be trifled with—that it is ;
a difficult thing to control, and is as ever
ready to carry one to excess, as any other |
passion implanted in the human breast.
Then take into consideration, the ten
thousand arts, smiles, and glances, that
are continually thrown in our paths, to
entice and beguile,—reflect upon the dan
ger we are exposed to, when we know
that a word, a sigh, a song, may throw
us into a fit of intoxication. How easily
can the taste be acquired—and when once
contracted, how hard it is to overcome.
Who can conquer it ? And who knows
the extent of this species of intemperance
in a community, or, the wretched and de
plorable effects it has produced, better
than the Editor 1 The cause of half of
the intemperance in our land, has been
in a measure produced by disappoint
ment in love affairs; and this secret comes
immediately under the eye of the Editor.
He is called upon to read the most inter
jesting passages in the Jives of those who
are thus afflicted, to hear the most plaintive
'appeals from her who has been deserted by
a false and truant lover—to sympathise
with him who can c ly realize
the same degree of agony arm suspense
more than once in the course of a
month; and all this too at a time, when
the Editor knows that the case is incura
ble, and that there is no earthly chance
of his doing any thing to reconcile the
party, thus shamefully abused. This is
a situation, any thing but pleasant; he is
not only denied the pleasure of relieving
those, who are thus distressed, hut it sub
jjects him to an ordeal of pain, which is
almost intolerable—it tears open anew, a
; heart, that has itself been shot to pieces by
;cupid, and which the kind hand of time,
had in a measure healed, and makes it
jbleed afresh. This is very hard, and no
wonder the Publisher cried out, help me :
Now to this class of our readers, who
1 are in the habit of loving intemperately,
1 we must say, that there is reason in all
; things, temperance even in love. We
! have no objection to people’s loving one
I another in moderation, it is natural, ra-
I tional, an'd a pleasant way ofpasing one’s
■ time. We go further, and say, that
1 it is the duty of young persons to be thus
engaged, it is their legitimate employ
ment. But we say that they must study
1 their temperaments, and guard against
the indulgence of any thing, that might
have a tendency to lead to excess. And
to those who have not sufficient control
1 over themselves, to resist the first sugges
tions of the tempter, we say —take the
pledge at once, not to—write any Poe
try. Drink pure pump water, and take
not a drop from Helicon’s fount. No
matter how cruelly you may have been
treated, how severely your heart may
have been wounded, how inhumanly you
have been kicked—bear up under it like
a man—be aPhilosopher—you will reco
ver after awhile, without the aid of a
single verse—but as sure as you resort to
rhyming about the matter, you are—a
married man—you will find yourself in
that vortex in spite of all your efforts.
All the salt in Christendom can’t save you.
“Yes,” says the Publisher, these are
our sentiments, from experience.”
For tbo Washingtonian.
To Rosa,
Some love a t’orm of comely grace
Entwined with beauty’s wreath,
Other’s admire a charming face
With white and pearly teeth.
Some love pouting lips of red,
With cheeks of rosy hue,
Other’s, the smile that’s o’er them shed
Like beams o’er Ileav’n’s Blue.
But give to me, the sparkling eye
With Genius ever bright ;
’Tis like a star that ’lumes the sky
When all is glo:m and night:
And such is thiricown, Rosa fair
Forever flashing bright,
For glowing Genius kindles there
And sheds her brilliant light.
• Youth!
Augusta March 14th 1844.
For the Washingtonian.
The Forsaken.
She was beautiful. And genius had poured
its purest, richest light upon her nature. But,
alas! alas! a woman’s heart was given her; and
love, in early youth, turned its light fetters around
her bright spirit, binding it down to earth. Her
life had been like a calm spring day; and she
had whiled away its happy hours, ’mid those joy
ous imaginings, which unfettered feeling ever
loves, no dark and lowering cloud had darkened
her pure life of sinless joy. Her rich, clear voice
gave forth the echo of her hearts joyousness.—
Alas! alas! that sorrow should forever dim the
sunshine of a heart like her that cold despair
should take the place of those bright fantasies,
which sometimes light the gloomy path of life.—
But genius never yet brought happiness to wo
man. Intellect’s brilliant light serves but to il
lumine the waste of blighted hope; and she, who
rashly fans the sacred flame, like Ida, lights her
own funeral pile. Ah! Ida loved as woman ever
loves. Youth, genius, beauty,—all that stern,
proud man could ask, or, trusting woman, give,
were freely offered at the shrine of love. She
loved for him alone. He was the guiding star of
her bright world of dreams. Hers was deep in
tense devotion, pure as infancy, yet strong as
death. A life of tenderness could scarce repay
such self-forgetting love. But oh!—a woman’s
lot was here. She met confiding woman’s only
recompense. The time had come for their first
parting; and days and weeks passed by, yet
bright anticipations cheered her, and she was hap
py. But e’en months flew by and he was absent
still. Then, oh! what eye could trace the hour
ly breaking of that young heart —the slow pro
tracted martyrdom of hope! They told her he
was married. No reproach came from her lips;
but gently, like a flower, she sank beneath the
j blow; and fervently she prayed to leave a world
,of sin and suffering. But death came not. And
when the healthful flow of life’s pure eurrent
' came again, she turned from all her former joys,
' and lived for God alone.
N. C. W.
Greensbor’o Ga.
t For the Washingtonian.
t
The Christian Soldier.
By a young Ijady 16 years old.
1 The war in which the soldier fights, is not the
- war for me,
3 In it are crushed all fond delights, and sadness
5 there I see.
But there’s a war, a holy strife, in which is gain
ed a blissful life
■ Through all Eternity. Oh that’s the war for me-
The sword the crested warrior wields, is not the
1 sword for me,
r While marching over tented fields, to death or
, victory.
[ But there’s a iword that pierces deep, that often
makes the sinner weep,
) And to the Saviour flee. Oh that’s the sword for
' me.
The fame that’s gained by men of blood, is not
the fame for me,
1 By drenching earth in gory flood, of friend and
; enemy, »
, But oh the fame, the glory bright, the Christian
soldier has in sight
As onward marches he. Oh that’s the fame for
B me.
I
The wreath that binds the victor’s brow, is not,
the wreath for me,
' For to receive it who would bow, save that
< through pride it be,
t But there’s a wreath, a shining crown for him
■ who gains—Oh great renown !
, O’er sin the victory. Oh that’s the crown for me.
1 C. W.
|
For the Washingtonian.
• Messrs. Editors: —Your readers will
’ no doubt be gratified to learn, that re
: cently, the Police Officers of our City,
' by extra acts of vigilance on their part,
1 have detected several establishments,
(long suspected of the offence) in retail-1
1 ing spirituous liquors to slaves; who have
' been reported to the council, and made loi
feel the necessity of conforming to the'
ordinances in future, by the sensible ap
’ peals to their pockets in the shape of
Hues; this being the surest method of
1 reaching the consciences of men, willing
not only to trample on themunicipal regu
lations of the city by retailing without a
' license; but also on the laws of the
State, and the private property of the
citizens, by destroying their slaves for
usefulness, in dealing to him the intoxi
cating draft, without permission ; thus of
fering an inducement to the commission
of other crimes to afford the means of
obtaining their drinks in this clandestine
manner.
And it is to be hoped that our officers,
will not relax their exertions in putting
a stop to this nefarious business, having
made a good commencement, a steady
perseverance in their duty, will finally
accomplish the desirable object; the clo
sing of these establishments, which are
the ruin of our slave population.
A CITIZEX.
For the Washingtonian.
To Grog Sellers!—No. 3.
The unteachableness of our fellow
men is astonishing—notwithstanding the
light thrown upon your characters in
1 my second letter, the Editor of the Wash
j ingtonian of last week, writes as if you
I were accessible to the motives which in
■ fluencc poor human nature—as if you
! could be induced by Committees, public
opinion, or the presence of a great man
I to pause in your vast work of human de
. struction. What a mistake! Did your
first and greatest prototype pause in the
! temptation to death and all our wars, be
cause the voice of one, great beyond all
’ comparison, was soon to be heard walking
in the garden? No! and neither will
• you ! Y’ou are looking forward to Mr.
1 Clay’s visit for more extensive operations
. —you are chuckling with delighted an
ticipations of the increased freedom with
, which men will drink when joyously ex
' cited—you almost grasp the idea that
r even Mr. Clay himself may be induced
. to drink your deadly potations, and thus
insure you a splendid victory over all his
• friends— you would turn against him and
be up before day to defeat him in his
! election, if you suspected that his visit
would diminish the success of your scheme
of universal conquest over virtue and
life.
Are you not struck with wonder that
men will still labour under the delusion
i that human and grog-sellers nature are
J one and the same 1 Unless we can di 3 .
| 'abuse men of this notion, it will be impos.
sible ever to get them to appreciate your
exalted characters—vour high aims. J
must make another effort to enlighten
them.
Human nature can be influenced bv
.such considerations as the Editor su<r.
gests —you cannot be. Man feels f or
. man—you do not. He, weeps over the
j distresses brought upon mothers and chil.
s dren by the intemperance of fathers—
you, turn from one scene of ruin of this
kind that you have occasioned without re.
. morse, to involve another family in the
same hopeless despair. He will divide
I his last loaf with a famishing family—
r you induce men to exhaust all their
means oA your grog, and then refuse
' their starving children a morsel of bread.
r He willingly assists his fellow-man in
hearing the burdens of society—you heap
t intolerable burdens upon society which
you will not touch with one of your fin.
I'gers.
Besides the foregoingdifferential qua].
1 ities of human and grog sellers nature,
r there is one that of itself settles the mat- j
ter beyond controversy. Man is a reli. I
t gious being —yofl are not. He reveren.
ces a superior Being—you do not. He
t fears, he prays, he hopes—you do neith.
er. But I have made a mistake here—
'|you do fear, but it is not God. You fear
your victims in the mania which your
poison produces. I have known you to I
cry lustily for help against them—yea, to 4
invoke the laws to protect you. This is j
your only weakness, and it is to be hoped I
Ino one will think it enough to degrade I
you to the level of humanity.
To make my argument triumphant, 1 I
would have concealed this peccadillo, hut |
jit I should be detected, in one erroneous |
jstatement, you would have to find an. I
i!other eulogist or never be known to tlie I
world I was obliged therefore to re. I
cord incidents that reminded me of your I
j being occasionally, beat blue and Had, I
while, with all your demon Wtiragc I
against God and virtue, you cried, “ niur. 1
der! murder! take him off! do good I
gentlemen, take him off! he’ll kill me' I
: Oh! Oh! Call the watch! Oh! do call I
j the watch!” I am obliged, mortifying I
|as it is to one who so well appreciates 1
your greatness, to acknowledge that if 1
vve were to form our opinions of yon I
from these exhibitions, we should have to I
‘consider you the most pitiful and dastard- I
ly cowards on earth ; but there would he I
little wisdom in forming conclusions from 1
ja pecularity, rather than the genera! J
character—the uniform course of com 1
duct.
I think now that I have so clearly do- I
rnonstrated that you are not influenced I
jas men usually are, as to authorize me tc I
'hope the Editor referred to, will no mort I
commit the blunder of classing you, and I
addressing you as men susceptible of th* I
feelings, fears and hopes of common him 1
inanity. Your
Rewarder. I
For the Washingtonian.
, No, 3.
Messrs. Editors —Having reminds I
your readers of the season for the per- I
formance of two important operations in I
Gardening, I will now ask their attention 1
to another and very interesting subject |
It is a general impression that the sap o: I
plants commences its motion at the room §
but this has been found to be erroneous 1
It is ascertained that the expansion of theM
bud attracts a quantity of sap from the I
adjoining tissue, and this is supplied fromß
below until the impulse reaches the roots I
which then commence their elaboration B
in such quantities as to keep up a supply B
to the buds as they expand iuto leaves IJ
flowers and fruit.
The wood of trees is produced by the||fl
leaves, and it is the descent of their room!,|
or fibres which produce the annual rin£- n
This is particularly observable in gral -B
' ing, but more clearly in budding, as the P
graft, as is well known, is not effected by
the stock, and the bud is merely a tram- |
planting as it were of a tree in minature
to a situation in which it may send out '
its roots with as great facility as on tte ||
parent stem. If the branch of a plant i> j
entirely deprived of its leaves for a sunm |
mer, it will either die or not increase 1
size by the usual ring of wood, and S I
taken off before the fruit ripens it will d° 1 m