Newspaper Page Text
THE WASHINGTONIAN
~ " AUGUSTA. AUG. IT, 1844.
editorial committee.
lUv. W. T. Brantly, Rev. Geo. F. Pierce,
“ W. J. Hard, Dr. D. Hook,
“ C. S. Dod, James Harper, Esq.
{fcy* To Diitart Susacribeiis.—Post Masters arc au
thorixed by law to remit money to the publishers of
newspapers and in payment of subscrip,
tions. Subscribers to the Wsikingtonian can therefore
pay for their papers without subjecting themselves or
the publisher to the expense of postage, by handing the
asaount to the Post Master, with a request to remit it.
Tho Temperance Cause is now pass
ing through the severest trial to which it
can be subjected—an exciting Presiden
tal canvass. If it survives this trial its
triumph will be speedy and certain—if
it is suffered now to languish and die,
thousands of money and years of labor
may fail to resuscitate it. Henco our
solicitude to interest leaders of political
parties in tho promotion of a cause,
without success to which, neither whigery
nor democracy can prove a blessing to
the country. Hence our deep anxiety
t 6 guard those who have taken the pledge
against the potency of the temptations
which they have now to meet.
In proof that exciting elections have the
tendency to endanger tho cause of temper
ance, we will relate the following fact—
immediately after the shower of brilliant
meteors, commonly called the falling of
the stars, in ’33, an old schoolmate under
profound seriousness thereby produced,
joined tho temperance society ; —twelve
months afterwards we again met at Mil
ledgeville, and to the inquiry, Have you
been faithful to your pledge? ho an
swered—“ I was until tho election came
on, and then I found that I could not elec
tioneer on, or with cold water.” Wheth
er ho has ever recovered from this re
lapse, or, if not, whether even a second
“ falling of the stars” could arrest him in
his downward course, wo think very
doubtful.
We have now demonstrated the dan
ger of electioneering campaigns, and on
this demonstration, wo build our appeal
to temperance men, to beware of the
temptations to strong drink which will
beset them throughout the land. Re
member your honor is pledged to abstain,
—your future welfaro requires—your
real friends desire—your families entreat
you to remain firm. Tho bleeding cause
of moral truth and worth demands that a
pledge so sacred as the one you have giv
en should not bo weakly nor wantonly
violated. Heaven, angels, and men are
looking to see if there is yet virtue
among those who have once tasted of the
intoxicating bowl. Shall all turn away
in gloom, dispondcnce and disgust ?
Wo now appeal to politicians! For
the present, the destinies of temperance
and the country, is in your hands—dis
courage tho introduction of liquor at
your political feasts and discussions, and
the victory some of you must win, will
be honorable and unattended by those
lasting regrets which must overwhelm
yon, if to gain a temporary triumph you
corrupt the source of political power.—
Editors, Orators, Essayists, Committees,
&c., should constantly discourage every
tendency to intemperance. Barbacues,
Conventions, Mass Meetings, Associa
tions, 6ic., should bo unpolluted by the
presence of alcohol. Your country de
mands this course of you—your profess
ed devotion to its welfare solemnly re
quires you, in sheer consistency, to pro
mote temperance. What value will re
flecting men put upon your professions,
if you falsify them in what is more essen
tial than your party success ? For our
part, the moment we see an efibri to cor
rupt the voters, and brutalize humanity,
we shall fearlessly pronounce the actors
therein, false to their avowed principles,
and false to that country which they have
so loudly professed to love. Gentlemen,
it has come to this issue,—That true re
publicans are the promoters of virtue,
for nothing else can sustain this form of
government! Are you ready for the
immediate application of this test ? As
Ir *;fc
far as it is in our power it shall be appli
ed, and that in the present canvass, too!
Think not that we hare put our shoulder
to the car of temperance and pushed it
nearly to the summit of the hill, to have
it senselessly rolled back into the shade
of the valley belgw. No! Gentlemen,
you must help it upward, or at least let it
remain where it is, or, (shall I tell you a
secret ?) you may lose much more than
you will gain by the other course. There
are many thousands of temperance raeD,
and they may feel bound to vote for the
advocates of moral reform!—or at least,
not to vote at all, if their political friends
prove fd be their temperance enemies!
It is certain that the friends of temper
ance are sufficiently numerous in this
State, to hold the balance of power be
tween the two parties in their own hands,
and that they may not feel it their duty
to uso it for the promotion of virtue and
order, we are not prepared to say. Is it
wrong, or would it bo strange, for such
men so to discharge their duties as citi
zens, as to prevent the desecration of the
political altars of their country,—to pre
serve their State from the disgrace of
having its destinies controlled by intem
perance,—to sustain the glorious cause
to which, in part, they have consecrated
their lives, so that it shall not be tram
pled under foot? Surely the cause of
human virtue and the consequent perma
nence of republican institutions, is as
dear to them as the success of any polit
ical leader!
(£7" How nobly our friends in South
Carolina come up to their duties—how
gloriously they meet and overcome the
obstacles thrown in their way, whether
by opponents or by timid friends! The
Edgefield Advertizer, Extra, in giving
us the proceedings of the late State
Temperance Convention, exhibits to our
delighted eyes a picture well worthy of
imitation by all who would present A
merican society without spot or blemish
to tho admiring gazo of the world.—
What zeal is displayed in tho number of
delegates in attendance upon the meet
ing—what zeal and wisdom too, in the
whole character of tho proceedings 7
And how admirably does tho address to
the citizens justify the course of the so
ciety, and expose to just censure, tho op
position of its enemies, or feeble fiiends!
Brethren of Carolina, we admire your
excellent conduct—wo will labor to have
it imitated on this side of tho Savannah!
Party Spirit!
The following excellent remarks upon
the evils of party spirit, wc oxtract from
a Kentucky paper just received. The
importance of the subject, nnd the bear
ing which tho correction of these evils
will have upon the cause we plead, is our
apology for inviting to them tho most se
rious attention of our readers:
“It is itnposiible, in these times, not to
suffer the painful impression that, in what
are called politics ; in the choice of pub
lic officers, the discipline of parties, the
measures and doings of public legisla
tion ; our countrymen are becoming fear
fully insensible to all considerations of
duty and obligation to God. In every
other field of moral interest, in matters
of temperance, in the religious obser
vance of Sabbaths, in the duties of hu.
inanity and public benificenee, the confi
dence of a general improvement is per
mitted us. And yet, in a remarkable
contrast of degeneracy, wc are made to
see that politics are becoming every year
more insensible to moral constraints and
principles. I distinctly remember the
time, when there was no such as previ
ous concert or agitation to secure the
nomination of a candidate for office
among us—when the individual to be
chosen would have blushed, on the morn
ing of the election, to know that he
would be the candidate—when the peo
ple came together, and after prayer for
wisdom and direction, began to deposit
their baiots. The first man who receiv
ed the greatest number on the first count,
was in that way nominated, and gener
ally led tho vote afterward till he was
chosen. The question never was, who
is the most available candidate? But
with every man as an individual, who is
worthy of the place ? If there was a
citizen or townsman who was decidedly
superior in character and competence to
any other, he would be chosen by the
vote of the people twenty years or more
in succession. There was no stratagem
or rapacity, no contract or composition.
The whole alfair stood as a moral trans
action, apart from all political adventure.’
“Now the whole scene is reversed—
The pulling of wires is seen, and a long
and weary agitation sre now necessary
, to prepare the day. If good men are
nominated, it is by the special industry
and good fortune of friends. If bad,
1 they will often answer as well, and some
> times better. It is party that is voted for,
with most persons, not the man. Moral
considerations have little or no weight af
ter the candidate is named. Duty and
the fear of God must yield to party alle
-1 giance. Even Christian men will de
! posit their vote for a man notoriously
, wicked or incompetent, and blush as lit
: tie as the ink in which it is printed.”
“ The whole trial is now generally one
of mere physical force, in which the
masses are generally wielded as instru
ments of political adventure. By force
of a great and strenuous moral re
form we are able to send the voters home
sober. And yet by a process of moral
degeneracy going on at the same time,
we are doomed to regard them as moral
ly drunk at the polls—drunk in the spirit
of party, bereft of their personality as
freemen, and their moral sense as Chris
tians. How many of the voters, in all
parties, at the last, or any recent elec
tion in our state can you reasonably sup
pose to have been governed by a con
scious sense of duty to their country and
obedience to God ?”
Again:
“ Party discipline is so strong and pe
remptory among us, that moral consider
ations and restraints are overborne by it.
Men are always irresponsible when they
act in masses. Conscience belongs to
the individual, and when all individuality
is lost, conscience is lost too. I do not
complain that we have parties, it may be
difficult to devise any means by which it
could be avoided. But, in name of
God and of all that is sacred, I protest
against the doctrine that every man shall
do what his party appoints, and justify
what his party does. It is the worst form
of (tyranny) ever invented. And how
dreadfully evident it is that the party dis
cipline of our country, irresponsible as it
is and must be, sweeps like a mjelstrom
round tho personality of our people, en
gulphing men and churches in its dismal
vortex. Few men have the nerve to re
sist it.”
Again, and reader reflect solemnly on
this picture:
“ It is impossible that public law should
long retain its sacred power as a band
of order, after politics and legislation
have become lawless. After we have
lear»»>fl bad men, and justify
wicked measures; after politics have be
come separated from truth and justice,
and law making is considered as only
part of the game for power and oflice,
how long shall wo respect the laws ?r
Who will receive ns sacred, the laws of
a desecrated legislature? And after the
legislatures have been desecrated, how
long will it be before tho tribunals of
justice will be so also—how long before
the judges and juries will sit as partizans ?
And then, after that, how long before fac
tion will defy their sentence, and cease
to ask redress at their hands ? I can
never think of this subject without trem
bling for my country. I see that the
magic power of law under which wc are
now sheltered in security, and take the
repose of liberty, is wholly a moral pow
er. It reigns because it addresses the
moral nature. But the moment it be
comes an instrument ol licence, and loses
its uprightness, when the moral dies out
of it, and the tribunals by which it is ad
ministered, the charm is gone. It is
words only. Then come anarchy, fac
tion and force, and all the floods of wo
are loosed. Society is gone.”
Will not our beloved countrymen hear?
Will they not be warned ?
For the Washingtonian.
Dialogue.
Job. llow is it Dobson, that you are
so fat as hardly to be able to get one leg
around the other in walking, while the
rest of us are sweating ourselves to lean*
ness in this hot weather ?
Dob. lam a philosopher,—l take things
easy and stay at home in the shade.
Job. But don’t you have to work like
the rest of us for a support ?
Dob. No! therein is my philosophy.
While you arc all fretting yourselves to
death for money, I stay at home and have
more brought to me than you all make.
Job. Indeed ? Do tell me the secret
of this wonderful philosophy.
Dob. I will. It is that all men have
appetites, and while others are guilty of
the folly of trying to correct them, I wise
ly cater for their gratification. Come,
friend Job, into my temple of pleasure,
and I will let you have a glass of iced
punch for seven-pence, and that will ex
plain to you the whole secret, for it will
make you feel so happy, you will be sure
to come back for another.
' Job. Excuse me. You are then a
r rum seller!
? Dob. Yes! And I can tell you, I have
found the philosopher’s stone—l spend
’ coppes for whiskey, and it yields me sil
( ver—l give silver for rum, brandy, gin and
i wine, and they return me gold.
Job. But the sin of this traffic !—the
ruin it brings upon your fellow men !
what have you to say about these terrible
r consequences of this trade ?
Dob. Simply,—first, that I look out
for myself,—my fellow men must do the
! same—l am not their keeper. Secondly,
that I intend to stop tho business as soon
. as I get rich enough. I can then repent
. at leisure.
s Job. But remember sincere repentance
1 requires restitution !
’ Dob. Ah! there are different opinions
on that subject, and mine gives me no
i fears of obtaining peace, and retaining all
■ my money too. We must not be over
nice—ease and plenty of money are very
agreeable things these hot, dull days.
Job. Well, I have neither ease nor
plenty of money, and yet I prefer bear
ing the “heat and burden of the day”
to hazarding eternal bliss on the terms
you suggest. Farewell.
Dob. Stay—l like you, and will assist
you to set up a refectory What,
gone? foolish fellow!—I would have
opened for him a gold mine, more proli
fic and certain than any in Georgia or
Carolina. Gone? the man is mad!
Conscience —That is doubtful!—time
will show who is mad !!
For the Washingtonian.
This is a Strange World 1
lies—and strange sort of beings inha
bit it! Indeed, lam of the opinion that
the World is not so much to blame as
the inhabitants; and was every person
strictly to examine his own conduct, I
am persuaded, instead of laying the blame
on the world, he would say, of himself,
what a strange creature I am. But to
attend to tho consequences ol our own
conduct, is a task too burdensome; and
we are all inclined to lay the blame on
tho world. —Tho preacher, who, by his
dullness, has driven all his people from
his church, looks around (after he has
delivered a soporforic) at the empty pews,
and sighs out—“ what a strange world
this is /”
Authors who
—■■ painful vigils keep,
Sleepless themselves to give their readers sleep—
when they find their works neglected,
and themselves sinking into oblivion,
quarrel with their readers for their want
of taste: “ this," say they “is a strange
world /”
The merchant, who h&s jockeyed, sha
ved, and bit his customers, until none but
those who are compelled by their poverty *
will deal with him, when he perceives his
honest neighbor taking his custom away
from him, exclaims—“ this is a strange
world /”
The haughty spark, paying his address
es to a lady of prudence and sensibility,
depending upon the wealth of his father,
and his own fashionable Hat and well
curled Soap Locks, to carry every thing
before him—when he finds himself neg
lected, and the affections of the lady
placed upon some industrious worthy poor
man, begins to think all women are fools,
and “ this is a strange world.” The pa
rents of the lady, who have always looked
upon riches as the one thing needful, and
consider men without wealth, as the Ma
hometans do women, as having no souls,
will be ready to tear the hair off their
daughter’s head. Here lam ready to
cry out myself — 11 what a strange world!”
The tippler, when he is urged to give
a note at the year’s end; for the long
string of dittoes and dittoes, and is threat
ened unless he does it the old ones will
be put in suit, mutters, “ this is a strange
world!” But lam afraid, when he has
those notes to pay he will be sensible that
it is not the world that is so much to
blame ; he will find out he is a strange
creature, and not that only, but a misera
ble poor creature. Promter.
Messrs. Editors :—l send the above
without any apology ; if you will publish
it very good. But if nqt I shall be in
clined to say, “What a strange world
this is!” a strange people you
are. I hope you will give me a hearing
in your excellent paper. For I think
that a performance that aims at abolish
ing an absurd opinion, is at least entitled
to the candor of the public. So hoping
for a better acquaintance, (for I am an old
quill driver and magazine scribbler,) I
bid you adieu, au revoir. P.
For the Wtshiogtoniniu:
The Star of Hope.
A single Star rose in the sky,
So beautifully bright,
Eclipsing all the lest on high,
With mild, refulgent light;
And as it higher rose ia air,
Still brighter burned its beam,
Until Earth grew surpassing fair,
Beneath the radient stream.
The balmly breeze from Judah’s hills,
Wafts sweet perfume along;
While o’er the sky rich music thrills,
And angel’s choral song.
No heart grew sad beneath that light,
. Nor fear’d to hear that song;
And mortals gazed with ’raptured sight,
To see it move along.
That glorious orb still lights die sky,
As when it first began,
And speaks to us, from God oh high,
There still is hope for man.
And when its mild and lovely light,
Shall shine on all forgiven,
From Earth we’ll take our heavenly flight,
And gaze on it in heaven.
Augusta, Ga. MaßCis.
Touching Incident.
The following narrative was related
by the Hon. W. Wilmot, at a large Tem
perance Meeting at St. John, N. 8., on
Tuesday evening, the 16th ult. Many
of the audience were melted into tear* as
the Hon. gentleman proceeded with the
affecting and melancholy tale.
“Some years ago, Mr. W. stated, an
interesting family landed upon our shores,
in the city of St. John. The father wa9
a half-pay officer—he had been in most
of the peninsular campaigns, fighting in
the wars of his country-, and was a brave
man, as well as gentlemanly in his de
meanor. His wife, too, was a lady in
every sense of the word—her family con
nections were excellent—and by her af
fable manners she endeared herself to
every one who happened to fall in |ier
company. They had several interesting
children, upon whom they doated. In
deed the family was one oflove, interest,
and harmony, and awakened universal
admiration. The father purchased a
small farm, lying between Fredericton
and Woodstock, to which the family
shortly afterwards moved. The farm
was well stocked—every comfort that
could be desired was to be found there—
the dwelling handsomely furnished—ser
vants at command—and, indeed’, the af
fluence and neatness that prevailed
throughout, betokened the rank and con
dition of the inmates. Mr. Wilmot said,
he stopped there one morning to break
fast, and he declared he never hehcld a
happier, more contented, and interesting
family circle in all his life before.
But, alas! the demon of destruction
was near by. There was a tavern in its
vicinity ; and the brave officer, who had
fought thebatlles of his country and been
through every danger, without fearing the
enemy, was at last to yieid himself into
the hands of the fell monster, Alcohol:
not only so, but his interesting and beau
tiful family were likewise to crumble
away, piece-meal, and share in a father’s
ignominy. Need wc say that the father
visited the tavern—we have said enough
for the reader to understand that be did.
His visits became more and more fre.
quent; his lovely wife remonstrated ; his
children cried and supplicated, but all to
no purpose ; to the tavern he would go;
one glass more ! The serpents fangs had
already entered his soul; he had tasted
enough of the cup to poison his once
manly spirit; enough to entice him on
ward to a renewal of the draught, and
onward he w-ent from cup to cup; his
family in the meanwhile becoming more
and, more wretched, i their hearts daily
giving way, that once lovely wife par
ticularly ; alas! the lovely flowers of
summer now gave painful evidence of
their withering beneath the frigitf blast
of an approaching winter.
The farm became neglected; indeed
nothing was thought of but the tavern ;
and the tavern was now thought more of
by the victim than his own home with all
its treasures, his stricken wife and help
less children. His funds being exhaust
ed, the half-pay officer was obliged to
sell all his claims upon the Horse Guards;
the sum realised, spent, he was next
obliged to mortgage his farm; next, his
cattle, and all his farming implements ;
next the farm passed from his hands al
together ; and at last, after sacrificing
all his property to the shrine of his god,
he made use of his wife’s jewelry, and
such little presents and keepsakes as had
been made to her by her fond mother and
friends, as tokens of remembrance, just
before she left the happy home of her fa
ther, where all was bright and gay, to