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AUGUSTA, JULY A, 1845.
“"editorial committee.
Rev. \V. T. Bkanti-v, | Dr. D. Hook,
l</ W. J.' HaHD, James Harpeh, Esq.
'* C. S. Don, IA. W, Noel, Esq.
iff* To I) iit ast Srßicnißcss.—Post Masters are au
thorized by law to remit money to the publishers of
newspapers and periodicals, in payment of subscrip,
tione. Subscribers to tho Washingtonian can therefore
pay for their papers 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.
GO” The publisher of the Washing
tonian, in acknowledging tho generous
olßr from Mr. B. Brantly, of the Pcnfield
1 Temperance Banner,’ would take this
occasion to express his thanks for the
same, and for the kindly feeling mani
fested, thinks it his duty to make this pub
lic acknowledgment. Mr. Brantly has
kindly offered, in a letter to the publisher,
to furnish all subscribers to the Washing
tonian whose subscription does not expire
with the close of the present volume,
with the ‘Temperance Banner’ free of
charge to the publisher, up to the time
for which they have paid for the Wash
ingtonian. Although there are but three
subscribers to the Washingtonian, w hose
subscription does not expire at the con
clusion of the present vol., the generous
offer of the ‘ Banner’ is not the less es
teemed by the publisher of tho Washing
tonian.
Wc take this occasion to tender to
tho Post Master at Columbus, also to
Mr. Johnson in the same office, our
thanks for the interest taken in our be
half in procuring subscriptions and send
ing us the money therefor. If there
were enough of such friends we would
not likely have to stop the publication
of tho Washingtonian. Under our list
of payments will be found tho names of
those sent us, and we hope by the next
and last No. of our paper, that some of
our friends in other quarters will follow
the same example.
tttvi.".. ■s::.™.'grgsL3
James Gardner, Jun. Esq., has been
appointed by tho Committee (and the
appointment accepted,) to deliver the
Eulogy on the life, character and servi
ces of the lamented Jackson.
Saturday the 12th inst., is tho day set
apart lor delivering the Eulogy, &c.
OCT A devoted son of Bacchus, and one
who most fylly carried out his devotions
to this god, entered a bar-room a few
nights ago, and called for a drink of
brandy and water, which was supplied
him by the keeper of the place, taking his
pay for the same. For a few moments
this son of good-cheer, who ascribed to
Bacchus, as did tho Greeks and Romans
the forgetfulness of cares, and the de
lights of social converse, eyed his bane—
his antidote!—and seizing the glass which
contained it, and lifting it up before his
face, thus addressed it—
“ Doom’d to heal—or doom’d to kill;
Fraught with good—or fraught with ill,
My bane ! my antidote! I love thee still.”
No sooner finished in speech than the
contents of the glass were emptied. He
seated himself again,and but a short space
of time elapsed when another glass was
ordered. As before, our worshipper of
good-cheer must needs preface his orgies
with a lino or two. Taking up his glass
and lifting it up as before, he again ad
dressed the panacea of all his cures:
“ On you my eyes arc turn’d, on you depends
My fate, with prosperous fortune to be blest,
Or to be nothing .”
"Good old friend Euripides, you knew the
true fait h of the worshippers.”
“Now on the doubtful edge
Os black despair I stand, or joyful delight.”
“ Go it my old Aeschylus, you too, were in your
day, no doubt, one of the faithful:
And Chid of ever blessed memoiy; ’tis he
who says”—
“ ’Tis you, alone, can save, or give my doom.”
Our hero of the still bad exhausted by
this time his two libations to his god and
his poetic fire, when a true and faithful
hottle companion announced himself as
ready to treat all present, who could either
tell a good story or sing a good song.
The party was made up on these terms,
and at it thev went. The result of all
J this was that our hero of poetic vein, out
l sung them all—told a good many of the
j best stories—vomited forth more detach
ed pieces of poetry, and of course was the
favorite of all the bacchanals; he thus
i became the drunkest of all, and was soon
laid under the table, where all sooner or
later were laid, or fell, with their back on
the floor and their face to the foe. They
had become too drunk to talk—too drunk
to sit—too drunk to feel their own shame,
and just so drunk that they could not
make themselves drunker. Thus ended
this pilgrimage to one of Bacchus’ Tem
ples in our city, in which many are erect
ed for his followers.
“That fellow has a brick in his hat,”
is now getting to be a common saying
when a man is seen drunk and rather
staggering in his gait. Nothing looks
more like it than this desciiption ; for the
rocking of the head to and fro would
seem as if the hat which covered the
head had a weighty substance in it, re
quiring of the w'earer great care in “ bal
ancing” to keep it on. If then, some of
our friends would not like to be suspect
ed, as they frequently are, of having a i
brick in their hats, we would suggest to j
them the policy at least of not “ bending
the elbow” so often, and then no longer
will it be said. “ There he goes !—see
him!—that fellow has a brick in his
hat.”
It is only when we view our past life
that wo can see the errors we have corn
mitted, sometimes through a spirit not to
be concealed, or encouraged, and as is
too often tho case, from mere careless
ness and an innocent intention on our
part.
Then it must bo our duty for the sake
of others as well as ourselves, to proceed
thus into a close and searching scrutiny
of conduct, that justice may be render
ed to others when due ; and when due to
us,to ask it of others. There is nothing un
reasonable in all this, but rather that the
plainest dictates of conscience demand
it, to say nothing of how far our interest
should be an inducing motive. Few
who are urged to this course of conduct
whatever be the motives operating at the
time, ever regret it, and so far have they
gone, as generally to suggest on all prop
er occasions, a similar course toothers.
Then it would not seem either proper
or wise to urge the just, to do justice—
or the merciful, not to bo cruel. It
would be surplusage in labor, and tau
tology in words. When such course
of conduct is pursued, many of those
difficulties that are now so common in
the domestic circle, many that arc
yet more common in the daily inter
course between man and man, ought
to be, and can be easily avoided
or satisfactorily arranged to the satis
faction of both parties; though we are
often surprised to see from a neglect of
proper means, so much that must be de
plored and ever after regretted. Noth
ing is easier to all just and sober mind
ed persons than doing justice where due
—nothing easier than doing wrong and
adhering to it, to the wrong-headed
and foolish. They are noble minds
who dare confess a wrons deed and
make an atonement—those are base
minds who do a wrong and sustain it by
continued injustice. In this, the golden
rule, as it is called, should be our guide,
and by it we should regulate our con
duct towards our fellow men.
The Pendleton Convention—-Time of Meet
ing changed.
The attention of the various Tem
perance Societies in the State, and of
the friends of Temperance generally, is
again invited to the Circular of Judge
O’Neall. It will be perceived that the
time of holding the proposed Temper
ance Convention has been changed from
the 6th to the 13th of August. This
change became necessary inasmuch as
the 6th of August would interfere with
the meeting of a Baptist Association, a
Presbyterian Camp-meeting, and a Bri
gade Encampment, all of which will oc
cur between the Ist and 11th of August.
This arrangement has received the u
nanimous approbation of the State Ex
ecutive Committee, and it is earnestly
hoped, will suit the convenience of the
friends of Temperance generally. It is
obviously impossible, in an arrangement
of this kind, to fix a time which would
suit the convenience of every one—some
saciifice is therefore unavoidable, and be
cause unavoidable, we know it will be
most cheerfully made. In making the
! change, the Executive Committee have
not consulted the convenience of one or
a dozen, but a great number, who would
j otherwise have been debarred the privi
i lege and satisfaction of attending.
The Presidents and delegates of So
cieties are requested to notice this
change, and papers, both in this State
I and Georgia, friendly to the objects of.
] the proposed Convention, will confer a
| favor on the friends of Temperance by
| giving it early publicity.— S. C. Temp.
j Advocate.
Legal Suasion.
The Journal of Commerce, in a lead
ing article on the “Power of Wealth,”
says:—
“Formerly, intemperance was forbid
den by law, and the selling of intoxica
ting drinks also, under all sorts of pen
alties. But intemperance increased, un
til we were almost a nation of drunk
ards. In that desperate state of the
case, good men were drawn to the only
efficient protection, ‘moral suasion.’—
And here we are, a nation of cold water
drinkers, or at least much nearer to it
than we were under the dominion of
statute law. The great principles and
obligations of temperance have been il
lustrated and acknowledged. The mor
al force of reason and kindness has tri
umphed over all opposition, and brought
public sentiment to such a state that the
friends of temperance are now seeking
to return to the beggarly elements of
law. Law is but an encumbrance to
good morals, except so far as it is neces
sary to redress personal wrongs.”
Precisely so. We ask no law to pro
tect good morals, only so far as is neces
sary to redress personal wrongs. But
we do object to the existence of a stat
ute law which permits a certain class,
by authority, to inflict every degree of
wrong upon the individuals of our com
munity. We ask no law to provide that
a man shall not drink the poisonous bev
erage, or destroy himself in any other
manner he may, in the exercise of his
liberty, choose to do. We do not be
lieve in the efficacy of any law, except
that of “ reason, kindness and moral
suasion” against the act of suicide. But
when we come to talk of homicide, we
touch a very different theme. We be
lieve it is not right, and therefore should
not be lawful, for any man to give, or
sell, or in any way provide his fellow
man with that which is positively cer
tain to do him only injury, and likely to
prove his ruin. It is no moral, and
should be no legal justification for us to
say, when we have slain a fellow-being,
he consented to the act, and even paid us
for it. We do not mean to say that
there is malice or murder in the heart
of the rumseller; but we do say that!
the uniform and inevitable conscquen-!
ces of this horrid traffic, are ruin and
destruction, precisely proportioned to the
extent of his business: and he knows
this—and what does he plead to stille
his own conscience, and neutralize the
force of “reason, kindness and moral
suasion,” upon his heart and conduct ?
Why, the late allows il! When he in
flicts innumerable woes upon the per
sons who make up society, is there not
something like personal wrong about it?
What, we ask, are social evils but the
aggregate of individual wrongs?
But what is our true position in rela
tion to legal suasion ? We have not
yet asked for any law to suppress liquor
vending. Believing that through great
tribulation the generations have become
wiser in relation to the intrinsic nature
and necessary consequences of intoxica
ting drinks, we have asked our servant
rulers to graciously permit the whole
people to say whether liquor vending
shall or shall not be pursued among us
as a legitimate and proper business.—
Our “seeking to return to the beggarly
elements of law,” “hath this extent—
no more.” We have asked for a law,
not to promote temperance reform, but
to grant to the people the powfer to de
cide for themselves, whether that traffic
which is confessedly a hundred fold more
disastrous to the wellbeing of society
and the persons of society, than slander,
stealing, or counterfeiting, shall be espe
cially protected by law. —lY. Y. Organ.
From tlie N. O. Picayune.
Delirium Tremens.
O Horrible! !!—‘A physician was
called to administer relief to the victim.
We found the tortured wretch in the
corner of a room, crouching and peep
ing fearfully through the rungs of a
chair, at a swarm of flying snakes which,
he said, were darting through the room
in all directions. Bloated terror was
on his countenance. He sprang from
one corner, and flew from one position
to another in agonizing alarm. Devils
were pursuing him behind, before, above,
below, and all around him. Objects of
terror and danger appeared ; and instru
ments of death menaced him on every
hand. His eyes seemed starting from
their sockets. His exclamations were so
full of misery that the heart ached to
hear them.
Then again, his fit assumed another
form; and he ran about the room jump
ing over the chairs, and calling us to
see him walk the ceiling. Then he ra
ved for liquor—screamed aloud—cursed
the world and his own existence—de
manded brandy r with wild and furious
gesticulation, and again sunk into grief
and tears, complaining that all the world
was leagued against him ; and even dev
ils were employed to pursue him. Sud
denly he fell into a sort of waking
trance. Here he was lifted on the bed,
and there he lay grasping at the air with
horrible contortions of countenance which
made our flesh creep upon our bones.’
Who that has once seen such a sight,
wishes to have it repeated ? Who is
w illing to be the victim ? No one is
willing to be the prey of such disease—
to die such a death. Then let all be
come teetotalers. Teetotalism is a sure
preventive against delirium tremens.
The Youth that was Hung.
The sheriff took out his watch, and
said, “If you have any thing to say,
speak now, for you have only five min
utes to live.” The young man burst in
to tears, and said—“l have to die. I had
only one little brother, he had beautiful
blue eyes, and flaxen hair, and I loved
him; but one day I got drunk, fur the
first time in my life, and coming home, I
found my little brother gathering straw
berries in the garden, and I became an
gry with him without a cause, and killed
him atone blow, with a rake. I did not
know anything about it until the next
morning, when I awoke from sleep, and
found myself tied and guarded, and was
told that when my little brother was
found, his hair was clotted with his blood
and brains, and he was dead. Whiskey
has done this. It has ruined me. I
never was drunk but once. I have only
one more word to say, and then I am
going to my final judge. I say it to
young people. Never, never! NEV
ER !! touch any thing that can intoxi
cate!” As he pronounced these words,
he sprang from the box and was launch
ed into an endless eternity.
I was melted to tears at the recital, and
the awful spectacle. My little heart
seemed as if it would burst, and break
away from my aching bosom, so intoler
able were my' feelings of grief. And
there, in that carriage while on that cush
ioned seat looking with streaming eyes
on the body of that unfortunate young
man, as it hung, dangling and writhing,
between heaven and earth, as unfit for
either place, there it was that I took the
pledge never to touch the hurtful poison !
Long years have since passed away.
White hairs have thickened around these
temples, then so ruddy and so young, but
I have never forgotten the last words of
that young man. And I have never vio
lated that pledge. When the tempter
has offered to me the sparkling goblet,
the words of that young man have seem
ed to sound in my ear again.— Old man's
story.
The Drunkard’s Creed.
f believe in Alcohol—of power super- j
human ; the Maker of misery and want; i
and in intoxicating drinks, his lawfully j
begotten children ; conceived by deprav
ed men, and born of the still or the fer-!
menting vat; suffered to exist under li-1
sence and tax ; who being drank, leads <
to degradation, suffering and woe.
Day after day he continueth his work,
and ascending into the brain—produces
crime, stupor, or imbecility. He sitteth
on the right hand of the Landlord; from
whence he cometh to transform man into
a state beneath the brute beast.
I believe in all strong drinks; the uni
ty of all evil; the communion of drunk
ards ; the society of the profane; the re
sentment of injuries; the destruction of
the body in this life, and an entire neg
lect of the life to come. Amen.
We learn that a Coroner’s Inquest was
held on Wednesday last upon the dead
body of one Aaron Harden which was
found the day previous, in the woods a
few miles from this place, in a very pu
trid condition. We have not heard what
was the verdict of the jury; but learn
that a jug of whiskey was found in a
very suspicious attitude hard by.
Anderson Gazette.
Temperance in Ohio. —The courts of
Harrison and Tuscarawas counties, Ohio,
have lately refused to license any sale of
Ardent Spirits for the next year.
Beautiful Thought. —l was walking
with Wilberforce in his verandah, (says a
friend,) watching for the opening of a
night-blowing ceresus. As we stood in
expectation, it suddenly burst wide open
before us. It reminded me, as we ad
mired its beauty, of divine Providence
first breaking on the glorified eye, when
they shall fully unfold to the view, and
appear as beautiful as they arc complete.
Fearful Hetritiution.
Our neighborhood was startled,vester
day morning by the report of a pistol
fired in Mr. Ivendig’s auction store, on
Camp-street,' nearly opposite our office.
A moment after the discharge, men were
seen running to and fro, as though some
horrible deed had been committed. The
immediate occasion of the stir and con
fusion is soon told, though beyond the
act there is a history, we fear, darker in
its complexion than the transaction we
are about to relate.
About ten o’clock a girl named Hen
rietta Blanchard stood in the front of
Mr. Kendig’s store, and beckoned to
some one to come to her. Mr. Kendig,
imagining that she desired to see him on
business, stepped up to her. He was
told that it was not him she wanted, but
a Mr. John Parker Pettiway, who is a
negro trader. Mr. Pettiway hereupon
approached her. She asked him to walk
out with her, when he turned to Mr. Ken
dig and desired that gentleman to to step
out and hear what she had to say. Mr.
K. refused to accompany them into the
street, but he had no objection to being
present at the interview. He then took
Pettiway by the arm, and they were
walking together to the rear of the build
ing, when a pistol was discharged and
Pettiway exclaimed that he was shot.:
Pettiway reeled, but was supported by
Mr. Kendig and borne into an ante-room
where he remained until his wound was
examined by a physician. The ball
struck him in the back, to the left of the
spine, just below the ribs, and passed out
in front, making a dangerous passage,
though it is thought not a mortal wound.
As soon as she fired her pistol, Henri
etta threw it down and turned deliber
ately to walk out. Mr. Kendig request
ed some one to detain her. She then
remarked that she did not wish to elude
the officers of the law; that she intend
ded to give herself up to the Recorder.
She however took a seat, and in a few
moments was surrounded by a large
number of citizens. She is a fine-look
ing, well formed woman, about eighteen
or twenty years of age as we should
judge. She has blue eyes, light brown
hair, rather above the ordinary stature,
and was dressed in a neat, comely and
plain style. Her mein was as dignified
as the agitation belonging to such a scene
would allow, while at the same time she
seemed to be laboring under a deep ex
citement which bore many of the char
acteristics of a withering sense of wrong
endured through shame, abasement and
outrage. She was told by some one that
she had killed Pettiway. She replied
that he had done worse to her. She
said that she was a poor, defenceless wo
man, who had been brought nearly to
the grave by him, had been wronged be
j yond endurance and abandoned in des
i pair. To some one who asked her why
she did this thing, she replied, “77e
knows.” She then added, in a voice
somewhat shaken and tremulous, “This
j is a fearful tragedy but he deserved it.”
I A short while afterwards she seemed to
be oppressed and asked for water. A
gentleman who handed her a glass,
thinking that she might have drunk laud
anum or something of the kind, so vio
lent was her agitation, asked her if she
had taken anything else that morning.—
She looked him earnestly in the face for
a moment, and repeated the words, “ta
ken any thing else!”—and then with
more sternness added, “ No sir—nothing
but revenge!” When the officer was
about taking her to the lock up house in
Baronne-strtet she remarked with much
firmness and resignation, “They can but
kill me, and I have suffered more than
that already.”
There was nothing in the manner of
this unfortunate woman which indicated
an abandoned character. We hear that
she is a dress-maker, and resides with
her sister in Royal-street, who is married
to a respectable citizen. We hear, more
over, many reports of seduction and de
sertion ; it is said, also, that recently she
took the offspring of guilty love to the
house of Pettiway, where she was turn
ed away with reproaches, and her child
cast out as the fruits of an illicit con
nection with some other person.
However this may be, she appeared to
us like one who had been wrought up to
a deed of fearful import by a sense of in
juries unrequited and irreparable. The
horror occasioned by a scene so bloody
•was qualified by a sympathy for the prin
cipal actor in it, who seemed berett of
every emotion but that of revenge for
wrongs that were too grevious to be
borne, and incapable of exertion except
in resenting injuries for which, it must
be confessed, human laws furnish but a
poor redress.
If what we hear of her past history
be true, the blood of Pettiway could not
i have washed out the stain that soils her
i reputation forever; there is for her but
. one atonement —one refuge. Imbruing
• her hands in the blood of her seducer, it
i he be such, cannot make clean her gar-
I ments and sanctify the errors of life to
, her good. But may it not be admissi