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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.