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THE WASHINGTONIAN.
AUGUSTA. MAY 31, 1845.
EDITORIAL COMMITTEE.
Rev. W. T. Brantoy, | Dr. D. Hook,
“ W. J. Hard, | James Harper. Esq.
'* C. S, Dod,, IA. W. Nora., Esq.
(J7* To Distant Subaciubm,!-—P O * 4 Master, are au
thorized by law to remit money to the publisher, of
rewspapers and periodicals in payment of subscrip,
tions. Subscribers to the If 'atfiingtonian can therefore
pay for their papers without subjecting themselves or
'he publisher to the expense of postage, by handing the
'.mount to the Post Master, with a request to remit it.
The census of the city has been taken
by Major Isham Thompson, and it is due
to him to say, that he has been diligent J
in bis duty, nccurate in hj? register, so
far as we are able to judge, and neat in
keeping it. The population of our city
i 3 as follows:
Whites, 8,952
Free Colored, 440
Slaves, 3,119
Total, 7,511
Deaf, 2
Dumb, 1
Lunatics, 7
Males between 0 and 10 years, 437
Females between 0a 15 “ 440
[Constitutionalist, May 29th.
New Paper.
The Coosa Ilivcr Journal is the title
of a new paper, published in Rome, by
W. Dunn—W. Brown, Editor. Its ob
ject is “to shoot another arrow into the
Democratic camp,” “to advance the
prosperity of the South,” and “the im
mediate interests of our own State es
peciailv.” The specimen number is
well filled with good matter—the me
chanical execution is creditable to the
printers.
Diocess ot Pennsylvania.
Rev. Professor Potter, of Union Col
lege, New-York, has been elevated to the
chair vacated by the deposed Onderdonk.
He is spoken of in terms of high com
mendation as the Christian scholar, and
able theologian. We hope his influence
will he felt in *he cause of Temperance,
as well as in every other good work.
Two Evils.
Any observant mind cannot but have
noticed, that any departure from moral
law, if persisted in, will——it may be grad
ually—but it will, blast every thing love
ly, noble, and manly in character, and
feeling. Any Vice, if indulged, requires
hot only the mastery —but absolute sway
over the whole soul, and gives its com
plexion and tone to each and all of its
powers. Its own hue daily becoming
darker, and its venom deadlier, and more
malignant, tho mind it governs, also be
comes more, and more vitiated. But
when two vices, harmonizing in their
character and aims, unite their forces,
the ruin is more rapid, and destructive.
Take for example, the man addicted to
gaming and drinking! With race-horse
rapidity he urges his way down the de
divides of moral turpitude, and is rarely
arrested before he is irrecoverably lost.
Occasionally one is rescued, and the tale
he tells of the ‘wear and tear’ of his feel
ings, his conscience, and his nature,
makes us start away from the cup, and
the gaming table, as from the gates o(
remediless destruction.
One poor fellow, with whom we con
versed recently, would startle thoughtless
tyros at the bottle, and card-table, if they
could hear his thrilling tale. There was
first the assassination of conscience—then
ruin of reputation—the loss of property—
the loss of credit—the destruction of con
jugal and filial and paternal affection,
and then a worse than brutaflnsensibili
ty to every appeal that should move a
man. The wretched being had a
, moment for serious reflection—he saw
the abyss before him—he started back
with horror—hastened to the temperance
pledge, and renounced the card table.
He is now earning an honest livelihood—
slowly regaining his credit—qnd bids fair
to be a useful man-
Perhaps our readers would like to know-
kD opinion of the comparative turpitude
outlie two evils. He says there “can
be no comparison.” Gaming excels all
other vices in the extent, and rapidity of
its ruin.
= ' - ■ ■ •
Confession.
We learn from the confessions of a j
reformed gambler, (hat several years ago j
a company of black-legs conspired to |
flood the country with marked cards.
They furnished a manufacturer with the;
pattern. The backs were to be very
finely checked, and each card was to have j
one of the very small spots or checks
omitted, so that it could be designated,
but only by the instructed eye. Thou
sands of packs were struck. The mate- j
rial, and execution were excellent. They
were offered much lower than other kinds, j
The per centage being better—the trade
bought, and they were scattered from
Maine to Louisiana. The gamblers in
the secret had nothing to do but to steal
the money of the uninitiated. At that
time, even in Augusta there were no other
cards. Things may be different now, i
but of this we cannot be assured until j
there is another reformed man from the .
ranks. *
- - 1 -- - _.m.
l
New England Society, Hibernian Socie
ty, St. George’s Society, Sons of
Temperance, Odd Fellows, &c.
Without prejudice against either of
these societies, we cannot but express
our regret at their existence, and our dis
approbation of the motives which gave
them being.
We suppose that if a number of Eng
lishmen, Spaniards, Irishmen, French
men, Americans and others, should a
gree to purchase lands and establish a gov
ernment of freedom and equality—that
common prudence would dictate that not
only should all national feelings be m<A
ged in the regard they should feel for
their new country —but that no institu
tions based upon national distinctions
should be formed, lest by any possibity
they divide the community. The
nations that would do it, would exhibit
distrust of the others, or manifest opposi
tion to a full and hearty fraternity of
feeling. Politically, such institutions
would be inexpedient.
Our country affords to all equal rights.
All stand upon an elevated and common
platform—They stand there as American
citizens. Clans among them should be
unknown—but every tiling that could
be done to Americanise the nations that
have congregated here, should be done.
Every society, formed for charitable,
scientific or political purposes, should
have for its object the welding of the va
rious bodies into one American mass.
We would respectfully ask, if the first
named societies have been formed with
any such object? We think not. It
does appear that the object has been to
classify men—to separate the mass in
to its original elements—to prevent the
exercise of kindly offices bv creating a
sectional, and national independence—to
cut off as far as possible the various par
ties from the sympathies of each other,
and thus engender and perpetuate un
kindly feelings and jealousies.
Every thing like division except in o
pinion is to be deprecated. The people
should be taught by voluntary associa
tions, as well as otherwise, that they
constitute a brotherhood; and that they
should cultivate fraternal regard for each
other.
The last two societies are in our opin
ion objectionable ; because they seem to
us to create an artificial sort of charity
and obligation. lam to help this man,
not on the ground of his being a man—
n*y fellow—my neighbor—but because he
is one of the “Sons of Temperance,” an
“Odd Fellow,” or something else than
God’s creature, and an American citizen.
We desist from farther remarks, lest it
be thought that we are departing from
the principal object of our paper. We
append the following article, which may
give to some inquiring friends, the knowl
edge they desire about the Sons of Tem
perance:
Tnn Sons of Temperance. —Among
the benevolent institutions of the day
few, if any, present a spectacle more
worthy of attention than the Order of
the Sons of Temperance. This New
Organization, which was formed in New
York in 1842, is now firmlv established i
in fifteen States, and has enrplled on its
list of members many thousands of the
most intelligent and virtuous citizens of
the country. New “Divisions” are
j springing up in almost every quarter of
j the Union, with a rapidity unsurpassed
! only by the Lodges of the Odd Fellows :
and everything speaks of future and last
j ing success. So peacefully and quietly,
however, has this organization won its
| way, that many intelligent persons in
1 different parts of the country, know
scarcely any thing of the order, beyond
the mere fact of its existence; and for
; the benefit of all such, we shall proceed
! to give a brief explanation of its prin
| ciples as furnished to our hand by the
“Yankee Blades
“The Order is made up of National.
Grand, and Subordinate Divisions. Any
State in the Union, having four or more
Divisions, is entitled to a State or Grand
Division, and the President and past offi
cers of the Grand, constitute that of the
National Division. The Subordinates
meet once a week—the Grand quarterly
and National annually. Each member
of the Order pays six-and-a-quarter cents
per week, anti in case of sickness, re
ceives not less than three dollars, and as
much more per week as the Division of
which he is a member, may deem neces j
sary. A member, taken sick whilst trav- 1
oiling, may call upon the nearest branch I
of the Order, and the amount so expend- j
ed for his relief, will he re-imbursed out j
of the fund set apart for that purpose.—
For the purpose of guarding against im- 1
position, and carrying out effectually its j
system of Mutual Relief, the Society has
secret passwords and signs of mutual rec
ognition. In the ceremony of initiation,
which is an admirable compendium of
man’s moral duties, the candidate for
membersh p is required to pledge him
self to abstain from alcoholic spirit—that
liquid fire which has desolated the fairest
places of society, and swept on its bum
ing wave so many thousands of wretch
ed spirits to the ocean of eternity. The
candidate has portrayed to him in a sim
ple and beautiful lecture, “ the three great
characteristics of the Order, represent,
ing the color of the Badge he wears,
and breathing universal love, purity of
purpose, and fidelity to his high toned
moral obligation. These characteristics
constitute the perfect and indivisible tri
angle which unites the fraternity, sur
rounding i ho Star of Temperance, whose
brilliancy dispels tho darkness of moral
night, conducts the wandering from er.
ror’s paths, diffuses consolation in the
midst of affliction, becomes the welcome
harbinger of brighter days, and the beau,
tiful type of that resplendent glory out
spreading from the throne of the living
God.”— Baltimore Visiter.
The foundation of usefulness in man
hood, is laid in youth. If you succeed
in establishing in the minds of children
correct principles and habits, you make
them useful men. The character of the
man depends upon the education of the
child. In attempting to form a correct
moral character, we find an obstacle in
the too great estimation in which show,
equipage, fashion and money are held,
and in the small value attached to mind
and morals. It will be our endeavor to
instil sound principles in the minds of the
young, and especially to enlist them in
the cause of Total Abstinence. There
are large numbers of children and youth
already enrolled in the Cold Water Ar
my, but there are too many who keep
aloof from it. The lafterj in many in
stances, receive the intoxicating draught
from the hand of the father or the moth
er, or from friends and are forming hab
its which, unless checked, will end in
confirmed intemperance. It is sad to
see these playful, joyous little ones,
bright and happy as most of them are,
beginning in childhood’s hlithsome hours
to sip from that, bewitching, poisonous
cup, which has blasted so many fair
hopes, and desolated so many happy
homes.
A few days since, we saw a little girl,
beautiful and bright, introduced into a
restoraunt where strong beer was sold.
She had never been there before, and
seemed to be a little uneasy at the change
from a pleasant home to so strange a
place. As we looked upon her face,
glowing with health, and saw her toss
her raven ringlets about her deep, dark !
eyes, and heard her plaintive voice, we
could not fail to cast our eyes down the
Gourse of time, and mark the change
coming over the spirit of her dream.—
Nor were cur visions of the future less
painful when we perceived the bar-keep
er of the place speak kindly to her, and
give her to drink a glass of strong beer!
“0 1 can’t drink half of that,” said she,
and tasting a little of the bitter stuff, set
it down. Ah, thought we, there is ano
ther body crushed 1 another soul wreck
ed ! W’here is the father, where the
mother, that such beautiful daughters
must be immolated upon the altars of
Bacchus? Boys and girls are often pla
ced in circumstances in which they must,
from necessity, form habits of intemper
ance, and through intemperance be let
to the commission of various crimina
' acts, and finally to the drunkard’s death.
We are encouraged to labor for the
young from the fact, that they can see
the subject in its true character. They
are not so blinded by the love of gain,
or by popular opinion, as not to see that
the drinking of intoxicating liquors is a
i curse, not mitigated in the least by the
fact that some are made rich by the traf
fic. They know that money is no equiv
alent for the desolation that rum brings
J into the family circle, where, either the
father, the mother, the brother, the sister
■ or the friend, is brought under its influ
ence.
Young friends, who have signed the
pledge, keep it. Get all your young
companions to sign it too. If you know
of a poor child that has a drunken father,
or a drunken mother, persuade him to
sign the pledge. Get all the little boys
and girls, rich and poor, to sign it, and
form the resolulion, now, that during the
whole course of your life, you will do all
you can to advance the cause of total
abstinence.— Temp. Standard.
The Trial.
“What is the verdict?” asked a man
of his friend, ns a shade of anxious care
quivered over his features.
“The Jury have not agreed—they
stand 4to 8, for conviction; some think
ing him to have been insane,” replied the
other.”
“Well! it was insanity. > He drank
enough brandy, to my knowledge, to
make any man insane. It did not in
toxicate him—and in such cases, it caus
es madness.”
“I should like to hear that case made
out, for the honor of human nature, re
plied the other. It is too horrid to think
of. that a man in his senses should mur
der his own son—and such a son too, as I
he was.”
“True ! it would be better than to have
it believed he was in the full exercise of
his reason. Yet, after all, was be to
blame, or the fashionable rum se.l!er in
Chesnut street, who seduced him into
habits of drinking?”
“Such temptations ought not to be
proffered to weak minds. I have often
wished we could sweep away these pes.
tilent hotels, that work more ruin to our
citizens, than the cholera itself, did, when
it flapped its death pinions over the land.
It was shown on the trial, that on the
day he committed the murder, he had
swallowed four pints of brandy, ’s
hotel—which boasts of its exclusive res
pectability.”
“And yet, he was never seen intoxi
cated !”
“Even so. It is the nature of some
men. But they are always to be feared,
as possessed of a demon, more desola
ting than the spirit of inebriety itself ”
“ What gave occasion to the quarrel?”
“Oh, there was no quarrel. The son
was a member of a Temperance Socie
ty, and seeing the fatal habit that was
stealing over his parent, gently expostu
lated on the dangers of the temptation ;
and asked him to sign the pledge, which
so exasperated the old man, that he struck
him with his cane, and killed him on the
spot.”
“It is a horrible tragedy 1 And what
a contrast? Ought not something to be
done, to arrest this dreadful monopoly in
the maddening potion ?”
“Unquestionably it ought. But the
laws have made society powerless. How
shall we get a Repeal of the License sys
tem ?”
“By means of a revolution in public
opinion. A few such cases, and who
could oppose the Repeal ? But, all so
ciety must see, by this time, that it is the
interest of all to interdict the monopoly
in poison.”
“But what is the meaning of yonder
crowd rushing out of the Court room ?”
“ Good God! they are carrying a dead
body! Whose is it?”
“It is the fathei of the murdered
young man ; who has just died in con
vulsions, brought on by drink,” said a
gentleman emerging from the crowd.
“Thus it is,” said the first speaker.—
“Retribution has ma'de sure of the mur
derer, that the chicanery of law has suf
fered to escape. If men will be cor
rupt, God will be just. No one can vio
late the laws of nature with impunity.
What a lesson for all. Who knows but
the next victim may be the son of the
fashionable hotel keeper himself.”
The Funeral.
How dreadfully that young man sobs,
and yet he does not seem to be one of
the family. Do you know whose funer
al it is ? Is the one who weeps so bitter
ly, a relative ?”
“No—but he was once in love with
the young girt whom he is now follow
ing to the grave. He is no relation.—
Some years ago he courted her but
suddenly fell into habits of Intemperance,
—when her father forbid him the house.
Since then, the poor girl has pined away
under an apalling consumption, which
has at last carried her to the tomb. The
| news ot h ? r death only, wakened him
i from his delirium of intoxication. Since
I then, only three days, he has become a
| sober man, and voluntarily signed the
I Temperance Pledge. But, as y ou ser
; he is a mere skeleton, and cannot live’
long.”
“And is it supposed that she died/.oni
love ? That is of a broken heart ?”
j “There can be no doubt of the fact—
for before he became addicted to drink
| few men could compare with him s or ’
; beauty of countenance, or grace and
symmetry of form. But he had higher
qualities than these to recommend him
He had a kind and feeling heart— a no!
ble and cultivated mind—polished man!
ners—and was altogether a ripe scholar
Poor Charles. A letter heart never
throbbed in a human breast.”
“You interest me much in his fate.
How came such a man to fall a victim to
intoxication—for I cannot conceive?”
“By resorting to a fashionable hotel
in Chestnut street, in company with
young men of fashion, members of a
Club. Nothing is easier than to con
tract a habit even when that habit leads
to death and dishonor .” The funeral
now moved, and the two friends walked
arm in arm in the procession to the Com.
eterv. wrapped in gloomy reflections on
the ravages of alcohol.
“It is a sad catastrophe, indeed.
How can a man who has thus murdered
a girl that loved him better than life, rest
in his conscience? It is a hard fate.”
“To judge from his present agony. I
should not suppose he enjoyed any rest.”
“ What age was she ?” ** Only eighteen,
and an only daughter.” “ Alas ! alas!”
“ What a deadly curse is this vice and
its haunts and temples! How can a
civilized people tolerate them? One
would suppose, a sense of common dan
ger, would combine all good men in so
ciety, todiscountenance and expel them.”
The coffin had now reached the grave.
A prayer full of power and pathos, from
the attending Clergyman, struck deep
emotion into the hearts of all. The rd
formed inebriate shook like a loaf, as
groans and sobs hurst from his bosom,
while two friends could with difficulty
support him. The service for the dead
is at last ended. The coffin was lowered
through the rattling cords into the grave.
A wild scream broke from the inebriate,
who dashing off his friends with frantic
violence, flung himself into the grave,
exclaiming—“Oh! Maria! Maria!”—
Numbers rushed to his assistance; and
with some difficulty his insensible body
was drawn from the grave—but all start
ed hack with horror, as one of Jjis friends
cried out—“ Gracious God ! he is dead!"
“Poor Charles!” said the benevolent
Clergyman, “ what a lesson you have left
for the good hearted, who yield from a
desire to please others, to the insidious
temptations of the unfeeling Libertine,
who under the shallow pretext of fash
ion, allures to perdition, the weak, vain,
and good natured.”— Sat. American.
“Baer” on Temperance.
The “Buckeye Blacksmith” is at Bos
ton, and recently in giving an account of
his own progress in Temperance, he
said: “There, the “Ship of Jolification”
is anchored off in the bay, bound for the
“ City oj Destruction .” 1 got on board,
but intended to go no further than point
“ Just Enough ,” hut no such point is to
be found on the voyage, for the first glass
is “too much.” Not being able to find
this point, I proceeded on until I came to
“ Tipsy Island .” There I found a jollv
set of fellows, but I was not contented to
remain there, and so I kept on hoard until
I arrived at “ Toper's Zenith ,” thence
proceeded to “ Hiccup Island thence
to “ Blakeye Lane thence to “ Bloody
Nose Street thence to “ Peel skin Al
ley;” thence to “ Sleepy Hollow,” and
thence to a place called “ Poverty's Val
ley,” which is situated this side of the
“ City of Destruction .” There I jump
ed overboard and took a cold water spree
on*Cool off-Beach the last stopping place
this side of the city to which the vessel
was bound.
Odd Fellows aud Temperance.
We take the following from our friend
Cochran’s “ Odd Fellow,” published in
this city. It confirms what we have re
peatedly heard, that this excellent order
have taken high ground on the subject ot
Total Abstinence. In one instance
which came to us from a member of the
Order in this State, on whose statements
we can rely with implicit confidence,
some members of his Lodge it was feared,
was progressing in their wine drinking
habits to the necessary' ulterior conse
quences, and the Lodge immediately
adopted “measures to get rid of them,
viz: by introducing the Washingtonian
pledge, and the sober and temperate mem
bers signed it and induced the drinking
ones by their example do the same.
The remedy was effectual, the drinking
members got rid of, by transforming them
into sober Odd Fellows—and not so con
founded odd after all. for, henceforth their
crooked ways are made straight, and their