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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