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not trust a feeling that might be harbored' i'-ir a moment, and then leave her soul in deeper gloom than ever. Thus she sat while her children pressed round their mother, anxious to soothe her sorrows and to stay her falling tears.— In the midst of the scene the door open ed, and some one entered. The poor woman looked upon the intruder. She started, as if to free herself from the dream which oppressed her brain. Still that form appeared before her. The visions of former days flitted across her sight, and her soul broke the shackles which en chained it, and leaped at the reality She once more looked up, and with a heart leaping in an ecstacy almost painful, Mary Wiley fell upon the bosom of her husband. As she looked up through her tears and saw that countenance beaming upon her, she felt all her sorrows and griefs to have been so many heaven-ordained ordeals through which she had passed to obtain this one blissful moment. -She did not see her children as they gathered round their father, nor did she hear their out pourings of gratitude and joy. She saw but o n e object,— s h e realised but one fact, —she saw her husband, and she knew that he was a man. Years have passed, and to Frank Wiley and his wife they have been seasons of joy and peace. Their youngest child, a little girl of six years, has learned to look on wilh almost holy reverence while her father gathers his happy family around him, and shows them the source of their present peace and comfort—his MOTH ER'S G I F T . W a s h i n g t o n i a n P l e d g e , W e , t h a u n d e r s i g n e d , d o a g r e e t h a t ive w ill not IV: d In to x i c a t i n g L i q u o r s , o r tra f f ic in tlicm , a s a b e v e rage— tlm t w c w ill n o t p r o v id e them a s u n a r tic l e o f p .m e rtnim n e n t, o r f a r p e r s o n s in o u r e m p loy - m e a t ,a n d th a t i n a il s u i t a b l e w a y s w e w ill d i s c o u n te n a n c e their u s e t h r o u g h o u t t h e c o m m u n i ty . R c c h a b i t e P l e d g e , I h e r e b y d e c l a r e th a t I w i l l a b s t a i n Iron) n ) l in to x ic a ti n g l iq u o r s , a n d w ill n o t g i v e n o r offer th e m to o th e r s , e x c e p t in re l i g io u s o i u i m m e e s , o r w h e n p r e s c r ib e d b y a m e d ical p r a c t i t i o n e r . 1 w ill n o t v u g u g e in th e traffic o f th e m , a n d in a l l s u it a b le w a y s w i l l d isco u n ten a n c e the u s e , in n n u fu c tu re nnd so lo o f t h e m ; an d , to t h e u t m o s t o f m y p o w e r , I w d l e n d e a v o r t o s p read th e p r i n c i p l e o f a b s l iu e n c e fioin a l l i n to x i c a t in g l iq u o r s . P l e d g e a l t l i o S o u s o il T e m p e r a n c e . 1 w ill n e it h e r m a k e , b u y , s e ll , o t n s e a s a b e v e r a g e a n y s p i r i t u o u s o r m a lt l iq u o r s , w i n e o r c id e r . A HOME PICTURE. DIED—At Stuyvesanl Falls, in this county, on Tuesday, the Sih inst., W ilhelmus Drum. The simple announcement of the exit'ot a| fellow being in the newspaper under the Obitu ary head excites but litlle or no attention, un less it be, perhaps, in the minds of a few rela tives, or personal friends. We have therefore, in the present instance, considered it proper to deviate from our usual practice, and give the notice of this man’s death, a more conspicuous -place. Not, however, because of his notoriety as a scholar or a statesman—not because of hts wealth or influence—not because of any extra ordinary traits of character—or because of our acquaintance, or friendshipfor, Wilhelmus Dtum, was but an ordinary, obscure, laboring man, with whom we had no acquaintance, ami j of whom, we had no knowledge while he was1 living. But'the circumstances which led to, and caused bis untimely and shocking death, are deemed so flagrant and cruel, we feel confi dent the propriety of our course will be approv ed by all, when those circumstances are made known. Drum, as we are infotmed, was a drinking man j and, on the Sunday evening previous lo his death, had sought and found the drunkard's usual place of resort—the bar-room of a rum- seller. And, while seated there, another, of tike habits and for similar purposes, also enter ed the room, when the subject of drinking was very sqon agitated between the two cronies.— “ Drum,” said the last comer, “ I will pay for all the liquor you will drink, if you will drink all 1 will pay for.” Poor Drum very promptly agreed to the proposition; and, in the space of sixminutes, drank four common tumblers near ly full o f rum! Having accomplished this revolting fete, he immediately sank under its influence, and soon became altogether insensible, and helpless; ex hibiting, indeed, manifest symptoms of speedy death. Yet still hits friends endeavored to rally him from his sinking prostration, and force him to another charge. But, on finding their efforts vain, and that his situation was truly alarming, the base participators suspend their revelry and unmeaning gibbering;—Ihe drunken gang, and the dtunkard-maker—yea, even he who stood behind the bar, and pandered to the depraved appetites of his miserable victims—even Hadley, for such is his name, became alarmed, and they then resorted lo such means as rum-wisdom most naturally suggested to resuscitate the well- nigh murdered man. And, afier slapping and beating him with a piece of a board, Tolling him on the floor, and such other means as they sup posed might be efiectua), (but which a rational person would suppose to be sure death to a so ber man,) to their own surprise, after several hours’ operation, some feeble signs of returning animation were manifested. And, strange as it would seem, notwithstanding such an outrage upon his nature, and the brutal treatment of bis comrads, owing probably to the iron-sinu- ed frame, and the strength of his constitution, he so far regained the power of locomotion as to enable him on Monday and a part of Tues day, to wander about the village.—But, such a spectacle; such a shocking, ghost-like, walk ing, living, dead man, says our informant, was never seen before. The iqan, that is, all that distinguishes our race from the beast, was absolutely dead 1 and yet, blighted, blasted, wrecked as he was, he strolled about the streets, wildly gazing with his almost sight less, glassy eyes, and ghastly deavh-atrlcken, Tte_'(£i^lowing communication was received too late for last week’s paper. j MR. GOUGH. ; This celebrated Speaker concluded last Week his series of addresses on the subject of Temperance. For five successive nights, speaking at each time for more than two hours, be fully sustained his high reputation in the judgment of our audience, which for number, intelligence, and respectability, I have never seen surpassed in our city. It would be quite in vain to attempt to add to the deep impression made upon those who heard him speak ; or to describe the admira tion, delight and intense interest which he ex cited ; still more hopeless would be an endea vor to convey to those who had not the plea sure of hearing him, any idea of his truly wonderful talent. I might refer to some of his most .strik ing characteristics—his full comprehension of his subject—his abundant flow of language— his happiness in illustration—his fund of an ■ ecdotes, always appropriate—his forcible ar gument—his deep emotion—his entire control over the sympathies and feeling of his hear ers—his rapid transition from grave to gay— hie graphic sketches—his unequalled dramatic powers—his exquisite taste in seizing upon the most effective point of every subject which his rich and fertile imagination brings before him ; and to liis unaffected modesty, which is the heightening charm of his eloquence ; yet I should fall far short of giving any adequate conception of his power and impressiveness as a Public Speaker. Though this is not the first time I have heard Mr. Gough, I never before had any idea of the extent of his abilities, and I fear that those who have only heard him occasion ally, and who have formed their opinion from the reports of others, may not have placed him in that high position as a speaker to which I think he i3 justly entitled. For while he is always perfectly intelligible, to the commonest minds, and scarcely m a k c 3 a remark beyond the capacity of a child's un derstanding ; lie is at the same time a study and a wonder In those endowed with the high est intellect, and to none more than to those wko are themselves distinguished as public speakers. It is quite true that he is perfectly irresisti ble in his humorous salies, and that he tells an amusing story with more effect, than any man I have ever before heard. Every now and then he passes from the most serious and impressive appeals, to some laughable anec- j - » - t . - . . . b i . .1 __ 11 ____ COMMUNICATIONS, wo depicted visage, until in the afternoon of] j ” 7 ' ~ Tuesday the 8th, when the last* link that L eep^ J w ^ i p W n o u g t ^ o \ bound him to earth waa broken, and the/eap^ trlwtura whichP,10 to Columbia-,WasIiingtonian7 Ison, Thursday, Feb. 17,1848, II T e m p e r a n c e G a th e r in g ! tyy A meeting of the friends of Temperance will he held on Thursday E v e n i n g N e x t at 7 o’clock at the lecture room o! the Presbyte rian Church to adopt measures to secure a more efficient action oi the friends of Temperance in t his city. A general attendance is requested, several speakers will be present to address the meeting. (C*We 7 hope the iriends of the Tem perance cause in this city will remember and attend this meeting this Evening, the 17tli, in the Lecture Room of the Pres byterian Church, at 7 o'clock, precisely, S i m u l t a n e o u s T e m p e r a n c e M e e t i n g s . —The friends of the temperance cause should remember that the period is approaching for annual simultaneous tem perance meetings, throughout the coun try. The twenty-second of this month is the time for holding them, and arrange ments in accordance have been made in this city and county. These meetings have greatly promoted the cause of tem perance, and the revival of them will give a renewed impulse to the work.— They will doubtless be well attended. CORONER’S INQUEST, A Coroner’s inquest was Ibis morning held hy Coroner Ilardick, on the body of OZ1AS MILLER, of this city, who was found dead in his Oyster Saloon, this morning. The verdict of the Jury was, the deceased came to his death by \ some cause unknown.\ L if e a n d H e a l t h I nsurance We invite attention to ihe Eagle Life and Health Insurance Company, ( H i r a m M a c y , agent,) whose advertisement is to be found in another column. This Institution, we under- stand, is rapidly gaining Ihe confidence of the community. Indeed, the names of its officers, are sufficient to insure its success. If there be any wisdom in the adage, “ in time of peace prepare for war,” we should think there were quite as much wisdom in that other terse ex pression, \ in health prepare for sickness.”— We therefore advise our readers to examine the advertisement of these Companies, and go to their offices and get their \ Health and Life In sured.” • . ■ t QQ- A moustache covers a m ifltftiiejpf sins. drunkard died! We had intended to have commented some- what.fully upon-this glaring outrage, but fhe more Ve ,reflect upon it, the less able do we feel to pursue the painful subject. Hadley, the keeper of the house where poor Drum was wilfully murdered, we suppose has a li cense for his business, and has probably furn-1 ished the necessary testimonials to the proper I authorities of his good moral character, and his fitness to keep a tavern for the public good! and thi 3 is but another of the ten thousand in stances that are.continualiy occurring to exhi bit the debasing, demoralizing, and destruc tive tendency, and legitimate consequences of the rum traffic, and the glaring inconsistency of the License Sytem Indeed we doubt not, were his Satanic Ma jesty compelled to assume the plane, and re enact the part of Hadley, in this disgraceful scene, his grim and sable visage would be suffused with very shame. But, we forbear, language fails to express fully the utter abhor rence we feel towards this body-killing, and soul-destroying traffic. Wilhelmus Drum, poor, deluded victim of ruin, is dead—died from the effects of liquor which he drank at the tavern—Hadley, the rumseller, has re ceived ihe price of his poison, and all the public good the license of such a business is calculated io exert lias been fully exemplified. That Christian communities sanction these pests, these hot-beds of infamy and shame, these manufactories of paupers and Sabbalh- breakers, is a mystery lo us. While ihe loom that might work in silence, and the horse th a could \break the 6tubbom glebe” in quiet, a sin only to its master, is kept at rest on Ihis holy day, these dens of outlawry, these pestiferous fens of riot and disorder, are permitted to keep open and murder their fellow men, and to des ecrate their God. How fearful is the responsibility ol the ven der in intoxicating drinks! He sees his cuslo. mers, with watery eyes, and palsied limbs, staggering into the grave, and hears the voice of Jehovah amid the thunderings and lightnings of Mount Sinai, saying, \Thou shall not kill,” but yet he rubs his soft palms together with exultation as he gathers the battered six pences into bis till, the price which he is wil ling to barter his own soul, and destroy the happiness of his fellow-men. Verily would we rather take the place of poor Drum, than that of (he man who sold him the poison which was the means of his cHath dote, w hich he gives w ith inimitable drollery, thereby enlivening his audience, and relieving them from too long continued tension o f feel ing ; yet h is g reat pow e r lies in the high mo ral tone o f his efforts. I doubt if he baa had his e q u a l in this respect-since the days o f W h itfield. I fancy th a t there are som e strong points o f resem b lance betw een these tw o rem arkable individuals in vividness o f fancy—in depth of em o tion— in the pow e r o f intensely realizing the im p o rtance and truthfulness of the subject uf th e ir discourse, and o f conveying the im pression on their own m inds to the m inds o f their hearers, and I m ay add in the sim ilar ity in the results w h ich they w ished to accum pliah— the perfect, entire and profound tenor- vation of fallen hum an n A P e . Mr. Gough 1 c o n c e i v e h a s p u t th e te m p e r a n c e relo r tn a t io n ,\ o n the o n t y biaia w h i c h Is I s u b s t a n t i a l a n d e n d u r i n g — t h a t o f C h r i s t ia n ) brom tl -imnj- support the superstructure w h ic h he designs to e rect. l i e takes boldly, and m a n fully sustains Ilia position as a Christian philosopher—tiiat no reform ation from a n y individual s in, is a t a ll to be depended upon, th a t is not founded upon the acknow ledged principles o f the Christian religion— that a m an may abstain from any , p a rticular vicious practice, o r abandon any I p ernicious habit, bu t liis only thorough refor m a tion, h i s only safety, lies in an entiie change of p u rpose and principle— a c h a n g e of heart, and lh a t if jtliere is any evil propensity that requires divine grace to eradicate i t, i l is that incessant, burning, torturing, relentless appetite produced by a long c o n tinued and ha bitual use o f intoxicating drinks, as a ll who suffer from i t can testify. I feel quite certain that the positions Mr. Gough laid down, were fully concurred in by his hearers, and I know that he has enlist ed, and warmly too, in the support of the great and glorious cause of Temperance, ma ny who have hitherto been disposed-from va rious motives, to stand somewhat aloof from giving it their aid, and he has secured the co operation of a class of persons whose counte nance is indispensable to the triumphant aud final success of this great reformation. T h e truefviends'of tem p e rance, which term I rcjoico to say com p rises so large a portion u f o u r fellow citizens, ow e m a n y thanks to Mr. G o u g h for th e able m a n n e r in w hich lie has advocated th e ir c a u s e , and for the happy and w e tru s t lasting effects his labors have produced in our c om m u nity. I doubt not that ait will join in confer ring upon him the well merited title of a great Moral Beformer X Important County Temperance / , J t r J E E T t J Y G . Art'adjourned meeting of the Greene Co. To tal Abstinence Society, was held al Cairo, on* the 27lh January. Notice had been given tiiat the eloquent and distinguished John B. Gough would ha present aud address the meeting, and, although it rain ed unceasingly, the friends of the good cause came from all parts pf the county to hear the inimitable Champion of Temperance, in nutn bers filling the commodious church. Al the lime appointed, Jlulge K i n o , the Pre sident, took the chair. Prayer was fervently offered up by the Rev. P. Snyder, for the bless ing of Heaven on the cause and for its speedy triumph. , It was movpd and carried, that a committee of three be appointed to circulate a subscription paper to defray the expenses of tlie meeting.— Thomas Cornwall, L. Kmg, and A. Pills were appointed. Il was moved and carried, that in compliance tyith the recommendation of the N. Y. City Temperance Society, this Society recommends to its auxiliaries, the holding ol Simultaneous Temperance meetings throughout the county, on the 22d day of February, 1848. On Call, the report of the proceedings of the Syracuse State Convention was read by Edgar B Day. Esq., delegate to that Convention. Resolved, That this meeting adopts, and ful ly approves the Resolutions passed at the Syra cuse State Convention. [These Resolutions were published in the Washingtonian ot the 3d inst.] It was moved and carried, that tlie Memorial to the Legislature, adopted at the. Syracuse State Convention, be adopted by this Society, and ils presentation he recommended to its auxiliaries for signatures. [The Memorial, will also be found in the Washingtonian of the 3<1 inst.] Resolded, That we recommend to temperance men, the patronizing of those County Papers friendly to the cause and willing to publish no tices and proceedings of Temperance meetings, in preference to those papers that are opposed, or indifferent and unwilling so tp publish. Adjourned to half-past 1 o’clock. At the lime adjourned Vo, the meeting came to order on the call of the President, and Ihe Minnies of the Morning and Resolutions were read by the Secretary, Whereupon, Mr. Gough delivered one of his most thrilling and masterly-addresses i during which ihe audience were alternately convulsed wilh laughter and affected to tears. Adjourned lo the 4th of July next, at Green ville. PERKINS KING, Pres’t, M. L. R icxerspn , Sec’y. TBE DRUNKARD’S CHILD. OCf-The Sons of Temperance are going ahead finely in New Hampshire. In Manchester and Nashua, special meetings are [held to initiate new members, so great is the number that are joining the order ___________ LIBERAL BEQUESTS. A citizen of New York, named Peter Chandler, recently deceased, has left the sum of $5,000 to the A. B. C. F. Mis sions, $5,000 to Am. Home Missionary Society, $5,000 to American Bible Soci ety, $5,000 to Am. Education Society, and $3,000 to Am. Protestant Society.— Total $23,000. A liberal bequest. C o n s i s t e n c y .—The editor of the N. O, Delta smacks his lip over a mint julep, and then notices a call of a temperance meeting. PASS HIM ROUND. An individual, rejoicing in the cognomen of W. ILLIES, sandy complexion, rather dandy ish in his deportment, a vile, pretended teacher of the French, German, Latin, and Greek lan guages. Drawing, Painting, and Penmanship, with some degree of “ pomp and circumstance” made his appearance in our city about six weeks since ; took a room al B a d g l e y ’s Hotel ; issued a circular, and liberally advertised iu the Daily Star, notifying the good citizens of his superior skill to (each all the above accomplishments, “ and the shortest possible tune .\—Now we he- sitate not to set him down, not only as a shear pretender, but also a notorious imposter, and a lying scoundrel. Almost every instance of cour. tesy and kindness shown to him, or confidence reposed in him while here, has been repaid by insult, or by base deception. And finally, on being solicited to settle his bills, to use his own classic language, he improved •• the shortest possible time,” to make himself scarce. The last we heard of him he was in Albany, and we hope the Albany papers as well as the press generally, will not fail to \pass him round.\ ________________ Q U E S T IO N . I would ask J. N. M. what the answertohis question of the 20 th ult. would be, if A B and C commenced at the same time, and continued till the wall was finished ; that is, what part of it wonld be performed by each, and the sum re- “ iytfi? IV. I \ S, Sarah sings,— ' \The drink that’s in the drunkard’s bowl Is not the drink for me, &c., &c. Mary —Why Sarah you are full of tempe rance tu-day, what is the matler with you ? Sarah — I am always full o f temperance, but [ am rattier fuller than common just now, he cause as I came down ihe green lane hy Sam Hardboltles house I heard Sam beating tittle Lucy so hard that I really thought he would kill her. Afiiry—Well that is enough lo make any one full of temperance. I always feet sorry When t sefc\ and in winter she looks bo cold without a shawl1 or mittens or good shoes. Sarah —Yes, and wtien she is wilh other lit. I tie girlqjihe never plays with them, but holds down her head and sets by herself just ns though she'was afraid they would bo degraded she should join them. M a ry— Oh don’t you remember Sarah that time when we all went out-to pick strawberries in Mr. Hales meadow, we persuaded Lucy to go along, and that naughty Tom Scapegrace the tavern keepers son called her a dtnnkaula brail r-arah —Yes indeed I do Mary, and I guess 1 never shall forget it as long as 1 live. What a look she gave, just as though she would hare stink into the ground, and then she cried as thougn her heart was broke and then she went away because she said she was not fit compa ny lor us. M a ry —Look there Sarah, there comes Lucy now and Willie Waterman is coming with her, I’ll warrant he is trying to comfort lierafter her beating, lets wait here a little while and try and help him. Sarah —Well Lucy we saw you and Willie coming along and we thought we would wait for you. How do you do this morning! Lucy —You were very kind to wail for me but my heart is very sick and sotrowful, I of. ten think I should like to lie by litlle Charleys side under the old elm in the grave yard, there is no unkindness nor liquor where he is. Mary —Oh dont feel so had Lucy, 1 heard my mother read last night in a hook that “ the darkest time is just before day” and perhaps the sun of your happiness may he just ready lo gild the hill tops of your dark horizon with his enlivening beams. Willie —The sun of her happiness will never rise while that brulal drunken father of bers lives, he has just now been healing her worse than my fathei ever beat a dog that worried sheep. Lucy —Please don’t speak so Willie, had as he is, he is still my falherand I lovehimdcarly. [f it was not lor Capt Scapegrace who is con tinually trying to get him to his tavern and then getting him to drink, he would be as kind a fa ther as any little girl ever had. Sarah —Why Lucy why does Capt. Scape grace, want to make your father drink } 1 can’t see what good il does him. Lucy—That’s because you are not a (bunk ards child. If you wcie you would know well enough. Ils because he wants to get his mo ney lhat he wants him to drink. Father works like a slave chopping wood, and as soon as he gets his pay Ihe Capt. gels up a shooting match or a raffle and sends for father and is so kind and friendly, that father goes down, and the Capt. treats him, and then when he gets a taste of the liquor, he never leaves it until every cent of his money is gone into the Capl's. drawer, while we are suffering at home without food or fire or clothes. Sarah —f do wish he could be persuaded to sign the pledge. Tom Tale that works fur my father was as bad as any one could be and spent all his money at the Capt’s. store, and now he never drinks a drop and is a member of the Sons of Temperance. Lucy —They tried hard to get father to sign Ihe pledge, he never drank a drop for three days and we were all so happy, for he was go ing to the temperance meeting the next night to sign, but when Capt. Scapegrace heard of it he sent lor him to come down to the store as he had some particular business with him, and when father went he asked him if it was true that he was going to be a temperance man, and when he said he was the Capt. laughed at hifh i and told him he did not think he was so far I gone as that, bui if he was not man enough to keep his libeity, he thought he had better go and be a slave and drink cold water; but lie said he would keep his freedom as. long as he lived and drink his glass when he liked, and so. they talked, to him until father gave up going to the temperance meeting. Then the Capt. said it was his treat and father drank and drank until he wa.s almost crazy. Oh 1 shall never forget that night as long as I live. Little Charley was sick then and mother had been up several nights and was almost asleep in her chair; when she heard the noise, and slie knew by that it was all over with father, as soon as he came in he struck her for setting up so late and wasting wood and candles, little Charley lay there all wasted to a skeleton and suffering very much, but he looked up to father and said as gently as he could; please faiher dont make so much noise it makes my poor head ache so hard.— But father said:—i’ll teach you lo take away my liberty and lie catt.’ht him and dashed his little delicate frame upon the floor. 1’oor Char ley never sjjpke any more. Sarah —Well Lucy never despair. My fa ther says lhejBare to organize a division of the Sons of Temperance here next week, anti the Sons will never give up until they have enclos ed your iather in the magic triangle of “ L o v e , P u r i t y a n d F i d e l i t y . ” The children all sing—“My fathers a drunk ard but I’m not to blame,” &c. tiie im u v iu p , FROM HIS CRADLE TO THE GRAVE The chief object sought to-be obtained by human efforts, is happiness. We ate brought into this world we know not why; and we leave it, we know not how. The Creator has breathed into our mortal bodies, an invisible, incomprehensible essence ; an electric spark, which imparts life and action to the otherwise dull and’soulless clay ; and yet bound it to Its prison house by ligament) of so frail a na ture, that the mystery of the dissolution of soul and body, is lest a cause of wonder, than the mysterious agency by which they were united. We are endowed by Heaven with all the requisites necessary lo the attainment of happiness, and all the qualities desirable for its due and proper appreciation. We are gifted with faculties, from the exercise of ' which ie derived that judgment which enables us to unveil evil; disrobe it of its attractive and gaudy trappings however dexterously in dued ; and leads us .to discriminate with al most unerring certainty, between the tiuly good and its opposite ; the unassuming plain ness of yirtue, and the sophistry, of vice. The attainment of our hopes, and the real ization of our wishes, so far as-is possible with finite creatures, can only be effected by a tho rough subjugation of the passions, inherent with our natures ; schooling them to propor restraint, and yielding the rein only with due caution after sober reflection and mature judg ment. The passions of man are naturally of a wild and ungovernable character, and their licensed and unchecked operation, imparts to them continually increasing strength, until they become as furious as the wild ocean lashed to desperation by the pittiless storm ; and what with slight effort might have been easily controlled, resists with tremenduous power, all attempts to its subjugation. This is the fountain from which flows all unhap piness—the well from which springs all tlie misery under which human nature groans ; and foremost and greatest in that train of woe is the coil of Intemperance. —No de/inable object .can be assigned by any person as the cause of his first indulgence.— Divers motives actuate him, but he is wholly gnurant of the reasuns which impel him to the step. Convinced that his judgment will ensure him against excess, he imagines it no harm to tuast the beauty of some fair one; or shew a fitting compliment to a friend by par ticipating with him. A desire lo du as others do; an aversion to singularity of deportment, and an infringement of what he considers the polite usages of society, together wilh a want of that mural courage which stamps the man ; are incentives to his suicidal course. Ex tremely rare are the cases, where upon his initiation in intemperance, and liis introduc tion to the bowl,, he drinks alone. There is no incentive to the act, the liquid is obnoxious to the palate; shame and conscience ring the alarm in hif ear, and he needs a boon com panion, one whose throat is a highway upon which alcohol is a frequent traveller ; to quiet his fears—countenance his libation, and give eclat to.the primary step in vice. This great obstacle removed; the road thenceforth is ea sy of descent The hitherto unknown effects of alcohol break upon his heated imagination with all the seductive tints of the rainbow, and he fondly imagines he has discovered a terrestrial paradise, recking not of the penal ties which nature imposes upon a violation of her laws. At least ftioa tenths of those who indulge in drinking, can distinctly point to the lady who prompted and sanctioned i t ; or the endeared friend who insisted upon it. The habit grows upon him, and is strengthened with every repetition. The necessity of par taking only in the presence of ladies, or with a friend is dispensed with, and a litlle is oc casionally taken, “ on his private account.”- Less reluctance is manifested in indulging— the gaze of others becomes less annoying, and a braver face is assumed as he marches to the bar. He has fully entered upon the inebriate's race, and unless checked, speeds as surely to the drunkard’s goal; as the shaft which leaps from the buw of the experienced archer speeds to its victim. But here arises no slight obsta cle. What means shall be used, and what effective measures be adopted to check his course! The confirmed drunkard who has served his tyrant king for years, and whose letters are bound by an Herculean power, is opened to conviction, andpnore easilyreelaim- ed. He knows his faults, at once acknow ledges his frailty, and fears only the force of the tyrant hand of habit which enslaves him.— But the former reasons not thus. He fancies himself too safe to-iall, and treats all advice with contemptuous indifference. Hint to him the unavoidable close of his career, aud loud mouthed abuse repays you for your pains. He terms himself a moderate drinker, and compla cently informs you that he knows when he has drank enough. No argument, however sound, will convince him; no warning, however em phatic, turn him from his purpose. No person has ever yet defined what mode rate drinking is—no standard has ever been pro claimed to the world, by which we might mea sure the exact length of our indulgence; the number of our glasses, and the proper strength and quantity of each potation, so as to conform precisely to the scale proclaimed—the exact whereabout of the dividing line, between mode rate and immoderate drinking, would indeed sorely puzzle the ablest mathematician to ascer tain. What one considers moderate, another considers excess. The Drunkard in the ditch hiccoughs his moderation and declares lhat he has drank but twenty coneedutive times; the 'just able to navigate” young man asserts hts i:moderation over ten glasses- of champagne, while the newly,initiated youth, wonders why one gjass of wipe should so dreadfully affect his head. All are moderate in their own esti mation, for all; are ashamed oi immoderate indulgence. With, what security! then can he indulge, even in one glass ? If the judgement grows weaker, as his desires grow strongerj when shall he find the point of moderation.— J Ever avowing that he possesees it, and never i reaching it. j “ None sin by- rule j none heed the charge p recise. - “ T h u s a n d n o f a r t h e r m a y t o e s te p t t i xtce; I \ “ But leap the bounds p tc»cribcd; a n d \vith free f a c e , i * “Scour fur and wide m e interdicted spa?e. Here lies the great difficulty.- To much reli- / ance. is placed on self and his good judgement. ■; The besotted drunkard is too tar from his imag- - . ination. to induce-him to-the least reflection, and*.' he never suffers himselt to think of the com-J mencement, progress and conclusion of the ca-j reer of the Intemperate, for he deems Itimseifl % secure. THE OLD MAN. F * Mellenville, Feb. 1848. I MORAL SUASION. * Altay, January 22,1848. “ I say he has been master long enough,” said young Theodore, in answer to an inquiry made by liis friend and employer, Mr DeF , as flushed with exercise and excitement, he drove “ Canadian Gray” into the yard, covered with sweat and foatn. Mr. DeF—, a flourishing merchant, in the southern part of Columbia county, was a kind man to his dependents of every description. Theodore was liis favorite clerk, and whenever apprehension, of the consequences of tqo close confinement, on the seemingly delicate constitu tion of the boy, Mr. DeF, would harness his horse and wagon and send him off on a collect ing tour, or something like. It was on his retqrn from ope’ of these excur sions, lhat ihe remark at the head of this page was made, and the circumstances of the case were as follow :—There was less said in those days of what is called “ Moral Suasion” than there is now, yet Mr DeF. waa, to all intents and purposes, in theory, if not in practice, a Moral Snasionist. “ Now mind, Theodore, don’t let him go faster than a little trot—be sure to drive on-a walk up hill, and some distance on the level;. if you come to a spting-, and let . him drink at every rill yon cross-; don't touch him with the whip, and if yon see he begins to sweat, draw up under some shady tree, till he gets cooled oft.” In this manner (or half an hour on the stretch, would ihe good man give directions about -the treatment of his horse.— Which admonitions were listened to in respect- s ful silence by the youth, who, in every previ- > ous instance, had obeyed these injunctions in j, their spirit if not to the letter.. , \ Mr. DeF, though.very kind in the main, was naturally very passionate, and Ihe rules he gave O lo others,, he often violated himself. When provoked by any refractory disposition mani fested by the quadruped aforenamed, healing, jerking the bit, and kicking him without mercy. 1 merely mention Ihis, to show how beautiful •‘Moral. Suasion” appears on paper, or in the. admonitions we give to others,—yet whin we come to reduce it rigidly lo practice, nnd put our finger down upon it, lo keep it in ils place, it too often resembles “ Paddy’s flea.” Canadian Gray, was a new horse, lately pur chased, and in shape and disposition, very- much resembling a jackass. Canadian Gray,, while he was poor in ftesb, was humble in spi rit, and for some days drove very well ; but in a short lime, “ feeling his oats,” as the saying is, began to cast over in his donkey genius, whether he might mot as well have a little fun, to enliven the-dullness of the road, and sudden- took it into his head, at the sight of a log, o'r heap of stones, to spring to one side, and in spite of word or rein, cramp the wagon, and hack with all hts might, until he succeeded in turning the wagon totind, and then in Wo other ditectiqn than home wonld he go. On this last excursion, he bShaved, in the opinion qjMTheo- dore, as if possessed, of 77 devils;-jhr, not content with nearly running him off mi' little- bridges, as they were passed, he al length, in spite of all that could he done to the contrary, turned his monstrous heail, raif up a side hill, ami began to back with all his might, his entire Irame twisted into acomplete S, until over went the wagon, and Donkey Gray with it, lying nearly on his hack, his feet projecting into the air. With much ado, he was freed from the shafts, got upon his legs, and tiedi to at fence; with infinitely morr trouble, was the wagon righted by the boy Slone,—there wos no one within a mile of thejfxjt to assist. Mons, Gray again harnessed irtSid Theodore in the wagon,\ off' started Grayyguull speed; Theodore plying with much zeaiVno animation, an old-fashioned Sopus,” with which he had provided himself, and which till then, he had forborne:to use, tip hill and down, on the level, over stones, bridg es, ami whatever lay in the way, did they thun der along, till they arriveil at their destination. Mons, Gray was not permitted to catch cold, be fore his head was ’filmed towards home, under a plentiful application of the same “ ’Sopus”- sauce, and an exceeding short time, brought them both jnto the barn yard at home, in the condition i nave already described. I will not pretend to decide whether the hoy was right, or wrong, but merely mention, the -■* fact, lhat said horse, had a most tenacious me mory, and never in all their future excursions, behaved so badly again. Now friend -, if \ Moral Suasion” will not succeed wilh a horse- of-a-jackass, or a jackass of-a-horse, after be ing so long and so well tested, should it beany touger practised upon the animals that sell rum ? Last Spline a drunken father, and a mother without a sober interval, having ruin in th6 house, two fine little boys, children of theirs, got at the liquor and drank themselves to death. The mother constantly and beastly intoxicated, with an infant at her breast, from which it could derive no nourishment, said infant nearly naked, in cold wintry weather, lingered a little longer and died from utter neglect. These peo ple even then were worth perhaps 2 or $53000; “ I say he, that is rum, has been master long enough.” Lately a man very reputably connected, fell from a load of wood and broke his leg—he was drunk.' Don’t you think rum had been roaster long enough, my friend ? No, after you get well again, you will again drink, to show your, noble indifference to the awful warnings of s greatly good arid merciful Providence. Within a few steps of my domicil, lives St hard-working widow, who has for a longlitne, supported htrself and child, together with her two aged parents by daily labor. I’o be Continued. ” _ _ Feb. 5th, 1848. Mr. Editor—I perceive in your paper of the 3d inst., that J• N. M. has stated that my an swer to his question of the 20th ult., in res pect to- the wall built by A, B, and C, is incor rect. _ i coincide with him, and would say,, that in looking at the question but a few mo ments, I did hot catch the idea contained iq it; and by a closer investigation find, that A. ie to receive $ 28 . 4 0 , B $21,60, -ahd C 3}l9. Yours, &c. W.P. S, . V ' Out o f (hi m oans of 1 than opcha im p o rtant c 1 he b ite anc function*, Worn om p i lion, and li thrpuehout dreadful ina dangerous I taatisivi, or. fine, a morb the great ca class o f diie I)R. HaLsi be ihe most liver to the. cleanse f t ora tritl m atter, when *ymPl hended, a vt and m ttny “ As there ^ should t M i l . C . J patrons ity , that u p o n i h i s friends,who o f th o m m alor E x h ib itio n Bui brA u icw iU be re W A L T E I * Hadsou, o n Tut •, 3 > a t o p V V A e tnN * Pupil* Will d 4 n< 1 . Gtand more 2 - The Dower 3 . jfcllornpipt 4 . The Rose I) C . A s e i t o f Rt 6 . The VVizirt * 75,The Garlaru 8 ; -The Highlai 9 . The S c a rf]] ltr. A Dance, (C IU Selections f Viennoise Child -lilghfy extolled I 'dies ond Misses. tC 3 r Ticket* i Lady's ticket CO < T h e Fancy Bat i|ly , a n d o c c u p y a dancing by tno C u n t il a lato hour. Tiek'eis f o r sal Jt i s rdoiiested th chase their tickc F C U 1 5 ,1848. a 0
