Newspaper Page Text
tut, whshinijtoni.n.
AUCUSTA. JANUARY 23th, 1843.
EDITORIAL COMMITTEE.
Rev. W. T. Bhavti.y, Dr. D. Hook,
“ W. J. Haro, J\mbß Harpkh, Esq.
" C. S. Dod, A. W. Noei., Esq.
Simm's Southern and Western Month
ly Magazine. —Wc are indebted to Mr.
S. A. Holmes, for a copy of the January
No. of this periodical. We have not
yet had time to examine its contents, but
the repulalion of the Editor as a literary
writer, is too well known to need any
special notice of that department from us.
The mechanical execution of the work
will compare with any of the monthlys
of the present day. Burges & Jame 9,
Publishers, Charleston, S. C. Price 83
per annum.
American Phrenological. Journal. —
We have received the Ist No. of vol. VII.
of this excellent scientific work, improv
nml enlarged. Wo refer our readers to
tbo prospectus in our columns.
Connection between Drinking and other
Vices.
It is an old adage that ** troubles never
come single—it is equally true that
vices do not stand alone, but come in by
troops. You do not find a community
addicted greatly to any one vice, without
finding also various associated vices
growing out of the prevalent one, and
supporting it. So of an individual, —ad-
diction to one irregular habit is sure to
dragn host of irregularities along with it.
Drinking seems to be associated with
every vice. Tho intoxicating cup is a
main reliance in every haunt of iniquity.
The practiced villain who seeks to inveigle
a virtuous youth into crime, for his own
selfish purposes, plies him first industri
ously with liquor, well knowing that his
task will then be easy to accomplish.—
The novice in iniquity whoso conscience
troubles him in the ways of sin, quiets its
faithful warnings, and facilitates his own
ruin, by calling to tho aid of his evil pur
poses the maddening influence of alcohol.
A large proportion of the fatal rencon
tres that disgrace our land, have some
connection with drinking. Deadly feuds
easily originate over the wine-cup. An
gry passions are enkindled by a spark
when the blood is inflamed hy artificial
stimulus. That is not the time for the
exercise of such coolness, and self.con
trol, and gentle courtesy as is often ne
cessary to avoid quarrels. It is no time
to think of consequences. No voice can
then he heard hut. that of passion.
Gambling,which some, betteracquaint.
ed with such matters than ourselves, state
to be a great and growing evil among us,
needs the aid of intoxicating drinks.
The excitement of the game affects the
victim with a feverish heat, a burning
thirst, and a headlong impetuosity to
which nothing can so well minister as
alcohol. And then, the joy of success
needs the hiliarity of the wine-cup—
while the gloom of defeat equally requires
the same for a remedy against reflection
and despair.
Drinking is an indispensable auxiliary
in those abodes of shame which are “the
way to hell, going down to the chambers
of death.” The simple would surely
beware, if their consciences were not
hardened, and their better feelings im
bruted by intoxicating drink. |9|
Wherever iniquity abounds, there
drinking is prevalent. Intoxication
drowns reflection, and kills remorse, hides
the consequences of crime from view, and
prepares the way for what the man would
not be guilty of in the exercise of sober
judgment.
Drunkenness is not only in itself a
crime; but, also, a pander to almost every
other vice. He who begins to drink, en
ters upon a career the end of which he
cannot tell. All vices are included in
it; how many shall have rule over him,
it is impossible for him to determine.
Tboy are all closely connected; it is easy
to pass from one to another; and there
is no point where it is easy to stop.
. The only safety lies in never entering
that downward road.
Progress of Temperance.
We are encouraged to believe that
(here is still an onward movement in our
undertaking, and we are confident that
(he progress is destined to continue until
the odious vice of drunkenness shall be
driven to holes and corners, where it
may skulk away from Ihe sight of men.
Like all great undertakings, its progress
is slow, —we doubt not it is sure.
Changes in the customs of society, in
(he prevalent habits and views of the
community, and in the tone of the press
on this subject, have been effected.—
These things cannot be without iufluence
even though temperance meetings be
few, and temperance publications badly
sustained.
It is wrong to confine our estimate of
what the temperance reform has accom
plished, to the obvious consideration of
the number of names procured to the
pledge, and the steadfastness of its ad
herents. These are, indeed the most
palpable elements of its success; —but
they arc not all. Many, very many f
who never sign our pledge are convinced
of the necessity of total abstinence for
safety, and for the exercise of a good in
fluence. They do not see all their duty
ns we see it, and so content themselves
with being practical te-totallers; they
take no public stand on our side.
Look deep and far, and you will find
many indications that (he principle of
the temperance reform has taken a firm
hold of the public mind, and is sinking
more and more down into the settled po
sition of established things.
Mr. Gough, (pronounced Goff) who
has been so successful in New York,
nnd other cities, is now lecturing on
Temperance to crowded audiences in
Philadelphia. He is n reformed drunk
ard, nnd, though an uneducated man,
tells the story of his recovery with such
true pathos, and nnturnl eloquence, that
few can resist his appeals. Wc wish
him success in his endeavors. Every in
stance of recovery from this dreadful
vice is a triumph of humanity, and every
instance of a sober mnn uniting in these
endeavors, is so much gained to the side
of true benevolence.
For the Washingtonian
Messrs. Editors —The indifference
manifested to tho Temperance cause by
many of those who have been reformed
from a life of drunkenness, is truly la
mentable. Although they have passed
through every grade of wretchedness,
consequent upon a course of intemper
ance; they have been redeemed by the
intervention of tho pledge, and returned
to their friends and society— yet, many
think their task complete when their own
reformation is perfected. Duty requires
that we use to the utmost of our ability,
the means employed successfully in our
restoration, for the benefit of those of
our fellow beings, who are willing subjects
to the most degrading habits and vilest
appetites. We are under many obliga
tions to distribute blessings of everv
kind, and to lend a helping hand to every
cause that (ends to the amelioration of
the race, and the establishment of those
principles that seek to elevate the human
family far above the many vices that tie
grade and corrupt them. This is but
the duty of all: and it is greatly en
hanced in the cases of those who them
selves have been subjects, saved by tiiis
benevolent feeling. Still some who have
dragged out a wretched existence, year
after year—held in chains by their pas
sions—offcast from society, and well
nigh withour home—unable to reform
themselves; have, bv the potency of the
the pledge, and the aid of the friends of
humanity—taken their former stand in
the community, greeted and Welcomed
by all; manifest but little concern about
those who are experiencing all the desti
tution that attends a life of drunkenness.
A feeling of sympathy and pity should
be aroused, that nought can allav until
all are rescued from want and ruin, nnd
made the happy participants of a life of
quietude and temperance. Alasl hu
man nature is often too much bound up
.n seif to be disturbed about the destiny
of others—willing enough to dwell
where peace and plenty sinile, friendship
cheers, and favors are granted with the
hope of reward. But to search out the
pitiable objects that grope amid the fens
of corruption, or that rave in wild deliri
um by the poisonous draught, or that in
rags and stupor dream their life away—
is a duty beneath the height of their at
tainments, and the dignity of their char
acter. But were all true to the requisi
tions of the pledge who signed their
names with so much “emphasis,” and
joined in the chorus of present and eter
tal abstinence with all the zeal of the'
most faithful disciples; we would have
less cause to lament over the fatal de
clention that has taken possession of our
cause. Some have had the magnanimi
ty to come forward and erase their names
from the pledge,—the only sheet-anchor
for their safety,—that they may have free
and unrestrained recourse to the bar
room, to work out their own ruin with
greediness. Others’ names still linger ,
they may not drink, though they hang
out a very bad sign on their countenances;
or the fumes of rum that was so com
pletely embedded in their systems may
not yet have escaped, as their complexion
is still tinted and their breath infected.—
Then we have but little to expect from
many of those who hnve reformed, in
lending their aid for the recovery of oth
ers—some, however, are noble spirits,
and are competent to lead the way to
universal reformation—and we must with
their assistance, maintain an unwavering
devotion to this good cause in all our in
tercourse with life, and if wc are not al
ways successful, wc will in some sort
hedge up the drinker’s way to drunken
ness and death. We must arouse our
selves from the lethargy that has gather
ed thick nnd fast upon ns, nnd bend all
our energies to the advancement of this
great reformation. In another portion
of tho country the Temperance banner is
still unfurled to the breeze on the masts
of their ships, and their motto is onward!
onward !! Can we tamely submit, and
be willingly conqut-icU liy oo vile a foe T
Shall wc fold our arms supinely, and
yield our friends to the fiery enemy?—
No! all would indignantly cry no! But
a little time since the firm and devoted
advocates of this cause, made a strong
and united move throughout the Union,
and success crowned their efforts. And
now with tho faithful allies we have add
ed to our number, can we not get up an
“arousement,” that cannot be subdued
while there is a sink of iniquity remain
ing in the land, or a victim to be redeem
ed from this curse that entails disease
and death ? Veritas.
For the Washingtoninn.
Messrs. Editors —l heartily felicitate
my fellow citizens, that they have at last
awoke to the importance of looking for
prosperity, to something else besides the
fluctuations of the cotton market. The
spirit that now animates some of them
has only to extend to all, to make Augus
ta the pride of Georgia—the glory of the
South. Years ago I saw this but could
not then get a hearing—now I rejoice
that I rather follow the general impulse,
than lend the public mind to the necessi
ty of tcork at home, for home. Allow me
to add the following remarks.
Profitable industry alone furnishas safe
investments for capital—capital alone
can give employment to the poor. The ;
two classes are, therefore, equally de
pendant upon each other, and should move
on in brotherly harmony. If tho poor
will not work, or if the rich will not give
them work, the effects are the same—de
pendance, suffering, increasing social
burdens, general decline of prosperity,
and the departure of capital to places
where work is encouraged and work is
done. The objects upon which labor is
expended, must be sufficiently profitable
to reward the laborer, and pay the inter
est of the capitalist; manufacturing in
all its branches, is just this species of in
dustry for towns and cities, as all expe
rience proves, and as the wants of men
make self evident.
But some object that we may overdo
the matter. Wbat an idle fancy!—
While the wind blows, water runs, steam
propels.; and we have the wants of a
thousand millions of customers to sup
ply, it is impossible for us to overstock
the market. Under proper regulations
we can compete with the world; but ifj
this was not the fact, there is no hope of!
supplying even our own wants during the
present generation. Still this objection
should have the effect of inducing those
who must lead in all such undertakings,
—capitalists—to patronize more than
one, two or three species of industry.—
There is as much profit made on hats,
shoes, leather, &c., &c., in proportion
to the amount sold in our market, as upon
manufactured cottons, and we need (hem
as much. A city, to prosper, must sup
ply its own wants and those of the coun
try trading with it, and send to other
markets, at least, such a surplus as will
fully pay for all that it has to buy from
other markets.
Others again, operated upon by sec
tional jealousies, fear to move until the
location of factories is selected and fixed.
This is also idle. Industry does not en
rich towns because of the streets where
it operates, but because of its obstruct
ing the drain that carries all their wealth
away. The whole operation of home
industry may be understood from the fob
lowing occurrence at a Justice’s Court
in an adjoining county: A gentleman
carried with him to this place, a twenty
dollar bill, and paid it there to a neigh
bor. Before he left the ground, a debtor
of his came forward and paid him the
same twenty dollar bill—he knew it, and
called attention to the fact, when it was
ascertained that it had that day paid
debts to the amount of two hundred dol
lars. If the wants of this little assem
bly hud been supplied by distant opera
tives, this bill and nine others like it
would have gone forever from them, to
pay the same amount of debt. The two
factories in this county, although dis
tant from the city, benefit it almost ns
much as they would do if they were in
our corporate limits. They buy their
cotton and provisions here, they will sell
their manufactures alike to up or down
town merchants; and to the extent ol
their sales, they retain money among us
which otherwise would encourage tho in
dustry of some distant region.
Some too, are halting between steam
and water power as the agent of the
great works proposed.—l will not say
this is idle, because prudence requires
great forethought and precaution, in all
important enterprises; but 1 will say,
that I believe, either, and both, will fully
succeed if bravely and perseveripgly ad
hcred to. Let men be fully persuaded
in their own minds and then go ahead—
remembering all the time, that “Rome
was not built in a day,” and, that a “city
divided against itself cannot stand.” If
some have the greatest confidence in
steam, let them heat the boilers and go
to work; but let them not, as they re
gard the welfare of Augusta and the
value of their property, oppose opening
other channels of trade and industry.—
It is now, —work or suffer—work or per
ish.
Respectfully Yours,
Eyes and Ears.
Scnaca’s Opinion of Wine Di Inking.
For the benefit of all “ moderale drink
ing” philosophers of the present day, we
present Senacn’s opinion ot wine drink
ing and drunkenness—himself the great
est moralist and most illustrious sage of
ancient times.— N. Y. Organ.
“It is an ill thing for a man not to
; know the measure of his stomach, nor to
consider that men do many things in their
drink that they are ashamed of sober;
drunkenness being nothing else than vol
untary madness. It emboldens men to
do all sorts of mischief; it bolh irritates
wichedness and discovers it; it docs not
make men vicious, but shows them to be
so. It was in a drunken fit that Alexan
der killed Clytus. It makes him that is
insolent prouder, him that is cruel fiercer;
it takes away all shame. He that is
peevish breaks out presently into ill
words and blows. A man’s tongue trips,
his head runs round, he staggers in his
pace.
“To say nothing of the crudities and
diseases that follow upon this distemper,
consider the public mischiefs it has done.
How many warlike nations and strong
cities, that have stood invincible to at
tacks and sieges, has drunkenness over
come ! Is it not a great honor to drink
the company dead ? a magnificent virtue
to swallow more wine than the rest, and
yet at last to be outdone by a hogs-kead /”
What would he thought —Ofa man who
could seize his neighbor's child, and
plunge it into a running stream for the
purpose of seeing its struggles and being
amused with its death throes? He would
be cut off from community as unlit to live.
And yet we have known men who would
take a neighbor’s child and make him
drunk, for the purpose of affording amuse*
ment to himself and some boon compan
ions. He plunges the boy into a stream
where death is as certain as in the other,
and yet men only laugh, and say he is in
fun! When trill the mind awake from
its lethargy and look upon things as they
really are?— Crystal Fount.
Usiful Itlaxims.
The following maxims, if pursued, will
not only make men in love with marriage,
hut cause them to be good husbands.—
The first i- to be good yourself. To
avoid all thoughts of managing a hus
band. Never try to deceive or impose
upon bis understanding, nor give hirt un
easiness, but treat him with nffefttion,
sincerity and respect. Remember that j
husbands at best are only men, subject
like yourselves, to error and frailty.—
Be not too sanguine, then, befbre mar- /
riage, or promise yourself happinesoji
without alloy. Should you d\scovugW
any thing in his humor or behavior notf
altogether what you expected or wished,;
pass it over, smooth your own tempeif
and try to mend his by attention, cheeri.
fulness, good nature. Never reprbacfo
him with misfortunes, which arc the »«;.•
cidents and infirmities of human life a
b irden which em it has engaged to .as
sist the other in supporting, and t 6 whfich
both parties arc equally exposed ; buy j n .
stead of miirtnurings and di
vide Ihesonows between you; mnkje (ho
best of it, and it will be easier to^both.
It is the innate office of the softer sex to
soothe the troubles of the other. Re
solve every morning to he cheerful for
l he day; and should anything occur to
break your resolution, suffer it not to put
you out of temper with your husband. Dis
pute not with him, he the occasion what
it may; but much rather deny yourself
the trifling satisfaction of having vour
own will, or gaining the better of nn ar
gument, than risk a quarrel, or create a
heart-burning, which it is impossible to
foresee (he end of. Implicit submission
in a man to his wife, is ever disgraceful to
both ; hut implicit submission in a wife
is what she promised at the altar; what
the good will revere her for, and what is
:p tact the greatest honor she can receive.
Be assured, a woman’s power, as well
as her happiness, has no other founda
tion than her husl and’s esteem and love ;
which it is her interest, by all possible
means, to preserve and increase. Study,
therefore, his temper and command your
own. Enjoy with him his satisfaction,
share and soothe his cares, and with the
utmost assiduity conceal his infirmities.
If you value your own and your hus
band’s case, let your expenses and de
sires be ever w ithin the reach of his cir
cumstances ; for if poverty should fol
low you must share the evil. Be very
careful never to give him any cause of
jealousy. Let not many days pass with
out a serious examination into vour con
duct as a wife; and if on reflection, you
find yourself guilty of anv foible or omis
sions, the best atonement is to he more
careful in future.— Social Monitor.
• The W idow.
If there is any one person more lone
ly than another, and one who should
he niorc entitled to our sympathies, it is
she who has been depiived of the com
panion of her youth. Perhaps her chil
dren have all been called away by the
voice of death, and one 'by one she has
watched over them, until they breath
ed their last, and deposited them in the
house appointed for all the living. Poor
woman ! she is a widow indeed ! As she
muses on the past, when she was con
tented and happy in the society of her
husband, surrounded by a group of smi
ling children, an involuntary sigh escapes
l:er,'and a tear is seen to trickle down
hir cheek. Now, the path of life is dark
and dreary; the sunshine that blessed
her cottage and home, has departed and
night, dark and cheerless, broods over
her head. Poor woman! we repeat. —
There is nothing on earth to cheer again
her spirits, raise her heart and thrill her
bosom with joy. When her Father in
heaven, whose kind hand has wonderful
ly sustained her, shall call her hence,
she will depart with a willing spirit.—
She feels that earth is but a vale of tears,
i and she has looked above for consolation
: and peace. A tew more suns, and she
I will be at rest, and the cold grave will
receive-the lifeless clod—and then who
will remember the wddow and childless I
Who will visit her grave, and plant flow
ers beside it ? None ; for her relations
I and offspring are all dead. Poor w idow!
we say again. May she find kind
friends while she lives, that all her wants
be supplied, and when she dies, we are
confident she will rest in heaven, where
the wicked cease from troubling, and the
wear}* are at rest.— Sheet Anchor.