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fe :i ** VOLUME 1. Devoted to Total Abstinence, Morals, Education, Literature, Useful Arts, Domestic Economy, and General Intelligence, NUMBER 6. Strictly Tee-total, and Exclusive of all Matters of a. Political or Sectarian Character, and of all Advertisements of Intoxicatlng-drink-selling Establishments. BY george cochran & CO.] WASHINGTON, D. C., JULY 12, 1845. [fifteen cents per month. * '? .?? . . ? ? ? ? PUBLISHED EVERY SATUHDAY, BY GEORGE COCHRANOf; WASHINGTON CITY, D [ faCO; j-lfir XTHllrRI PUBLICATION OFFICE ON SIXTH ?TREET, SOUTH OF PENNSYLVANIA AVENUE. TERMS OF ADVERTISING. ONE SQUARE, one insertion, FIFTY cent?, or FOUR insertions for ONE DOLLAR. ONE SQUARE, 3 months . . , i . $2 50 " " 6 ?? 4 00 ? ?? 12 " 7 00 Longer advertisements in proportion. 53" FOURTEEN lines, or under, called a square. 9CT BUSINESS CARDS, of SIX LINES, will be conspicuously inserted for FOUR DOLLARS per year, in advance. OCT Apothecaries, Stationers ,and others, wishing a column or half column, will be accommodated at the lowest rates. POETICAL FOUNT. " Here Nature's minstrels quaff inspiring draughts." THE DANDY'S LAMENT. No whiskers yet! no whiskers yet! And Tom's a pair so black and stout! in vain I sigh?in vain I fret? In-vain I try to coax them, out! 1 vow I'm twenty-one or nearly, And nothing yet upon my chin, Except a crop of fuz, which yearly Seems to grow more frail and thin! No whiskers yet! and no moustache! Although without a fault my hair; Not e'en a poor imperial, To stamp me with a foreign air! With Beals and Jones I've spent enough, Besides a fortune with Gouraid; I've found out. to my cost, their stuff Is all a humbug, and no go! No whiskers yet! no whiskers yet! Good heavens, what can the matter be ? While every belle makes Tom a pet, They make no bones of slighting me. 'Twill never do, as I'm alive? I shall be cut by all the " ton," Unless 1 get a whisker false, And stick a sham imperial on. Egad I'll do it! and why not ? For, if the whisker makes the man, Why won't a false one do as well As any ? Answer me who can ! I'll do it! then I'll cut a swell! And since to Fame the once rough road Is paved with hair, ye gods! 1 then Shall be a lion a-Ia-mode. From the United States Gazette. THE PRINTER'S DOOM. BY THOS. MACKEEKAIt. A printer weary and wan, His face all mortally pale, As he wearily plodded his homeward way Before the breaking of early day, Broke out in bittei wail. His voice was husky and low, As though his lungs were gone ; And he cough'd, and gnsp'd, and cough'd again, And he press'd his hand on his heart in pain, While thus his plaint ran on : " A world of toil is this! It hath no joys for me : 'Tis labor by day, and labor by night, By the light of the sun, and by candlc light? Labor continually. " Some men have a day of rest, But Sabbath for tnc is not; It is toil all the week, and toil on the day That God has given to rest and to pray? Lo! this is the printer's lot! " When I was a boy," lie saidy " I play'd on the hills of green ; I swam in the stream?I fish'd in the brook? And blest was I to sit and look Unfettered on nature's scene. " For twenty sad years and more, My life has worn away In murky rooms of poisonous air, When I've yearn'd for a sight of the valleys fair And the light of open day. " An innocent prisoner doorn'd, My heart is heavy within ; Oh, why should a man untainted by guilt, Who the blood of a creature never hath spilt, Be pent, like a felon, for sin ?" The printer then cough'd and sigh'd? The stars wore growing dim, And he upward glanced at the morning sky, And he inly thought that it was good to die, And death would be rest to him. His hoart was tired of beating He prayed to the-Lord above, To pity a man whose heart had been riven By toil, for other men's interest given? And he wept for his mercy and love. He hied to his humble home ! His infant awoke to cry, " Oh, father! oh, mother! I'm hungry for bread !" And the printer bowed down with aching head, On his Mary's lap to die. Oh ye who have never known The richness that's in a crust, When nothing is found on the desolate shelf, And the sufferer's pocket is empty of pelf Receive my story on trust. Say in your careless scorn, What boots the tala to you ! The rhymer who traces these roughly writ lines, Hath known of such sufferers in other day times, And the main of his rhyme is true. Remember this holy truth? The man who aloof hath stood, When a heart-broken brother for succor did crave, And he stretched not a finger to bless and to save, Is verily guilty of blood! POPULAR SELECTION*S. " ftoni grave to gay, from lively to severe." THE UNLUCKY TREASURE. A NARRATIVE OF THE SEA. Our ship was smoothly gliding along over the gently undulating ocean, towards home, from the shores of Great Britain. Every sail was distended by the steady breeze; the sun was shining brightly, though a sort of haze hung around the horicon. Tjrelve o'clock had passed?the latitude and longitude work ed up, and the chart was spread upon the cabin table. ? The exact position of the ship at noon was marked by a black dot, and a straight line drawn from the point of observa tion of the noon previous. All of us were delighted at the day's run, and the day for our arrival in port was fixed upon as ccrtaiu?al most. No one seemed to be quite so elated as our steward. Ilis face was all smiles, his eyes twinkled with unaccustomed lustre, and the prospect of a speedy return to his family excited him almost to craziness. By his un easy movements, I concluded he had some thing on his mind, which he was anxious to reveal, and I gave him an opportunity of speaking to me privately. He seized upon the glance, and coming up, whispered confi dentially that he had found " such a treasure!" "I've found," said he, " two whole baskets of Champagne in the run; they belonged to the former master, and the present skipper knows nothing about it. Mr. Weathergage, the second mate, was with me when I found them; he must have one basket, and I mean to put the other upon the captain's table to-day." "Capital!" cried I. "We'll have such a jollification !" No spirits or wine were allowed by the owners?and when Captain W****# came down to dinner, he was not a little surprised to see the table gaily decked out with Cham, pagne bottles and glasses. Learning that the wine was a lawful prize, he entered heartily into the spirit of the scene. The act of demol ishing soon commenced with activity; glass after glas9 was poured down and festivity reigned supreme. Loud roars of laughter burst occasionally from the steerage, where the chief mate was entertaining himself on his share of the prize. He poured forth his lusty but melodious voice in a sea song, which riveted the attention ot all in the cabin. "Such merriment ought not to 'waste its sweetness on the desert air,'" said Capt. \V. "I move that Mr. Transom be called into the cabin, so that we can have the pleasure of his company." All hands seconded the motion, and Mr. Transom was sent for. His appearance in the cabin was hailed with joy, notwithstanding his Hushed face, and his unsteady step caused a laugh and some remarks, to which he re plied that she (the ship) was "going some now." "Is she?" inquired Capt. VV., raising his glassy eyes to the male's unsteady gaze. " How did the weather look on deck?" "Oh, pretty much the same," said the mate; but the fact was that as he passed from the steerage he did not look at the weather. His mind being stupified by the wine, and antici pating the pleasures of the cabin, he noticed as he passed neither the black clouds that were rising up to the windward, rior the heavi ness of the air, nor the second mate, who lay asleep on the hencoop. "Now for that song," Mr. Transom," cried I. " Fill up your glasses first, and open a fresh bottle," said Capt. W. "Yes, yes?a bumper all round," said another. Conviviality now had full sway. The pas sing hours, and the increased motion of the ship, were alike unnoticed. Wine had control below decks, and the wind above. A heavy lurch, and a loud crash, accompanied by low, discordant sounds, awoke Capt. W. to an in distinct recollection of his being on board ship. Springing from the lethargy into which he had sunk, he rushed on deck. All was dis order and confusion. The night was pitchy dark?a tempest howled among the rigging? fearful seas were breaking across the deck, which was encumbered by masses of rigging and spars. Bui one being was visible on deck; he was at the wheel, and using his best en deavors to keep the ship before the wind. The rest of the watch were huddled together on the forecastle, and part of them lay asleep from the effects of the remains of the mate's festivity. Capt. W.'s bewildered brain could make out nothing of the situation of the vessel. "Where's Mr. Weathergage? How does she head ? What the devil is to pay?"?were the questions hurriedly put to the man at the helm, by the captain. "No light in the binnacle, sir!" was the gruff reply of the seaman, who stood firmly to his post, though death gaped on all sides, and drunkenness stood ready to lend a helping hand. The awfulness of his situation flashed upon the mind of Capt. \V., and for a few minutes he had neither strength ?Bor reason. A deep sense of impending danger was wrestling with the demon of drunkenness!?a powerful effort of the mind threw off the yuke of King Alco hol, and the seaman was himself again! A hiccuping attempt of some one in the lee scuppers, gave him notice of the presence of another being on deck. To seize the person and drag him to his feet, was the work of an instant, and recognizin^Mr. W eathergage, he dashed him forward, ping upon his head fearful imprecations. "The shock, together with the angry tone of his commander's voice, recalled him to reason. - "Call all hands!?clear the wreck!" was the thundering command of Capt. W., hurry ing at the same time into the cabin, and tum bling over the forces so lately valorous in the army of King Alcohol, he dragged the now inanimate form of the mate on deck, inflicting upon him a volley of kicks and thumps, which brought him partially to his senses. Taking the wheel himself, Capt. W. saw with terror the confused and stupid attempts of the mates to do their duty. In the mean time the sea and wind had been increasing; high masses of water were pouring from stem to stern, as the ship made slow progress, en cumbered as she was by the wreck of spars and sails. The jib-boom had been carried away, taking with it the fore-topmast and main-topgallant mast. To secure the remnant of the spanker, which had been split, square in the yards, secure the flying penants of un hitched rigging, and save the fore-topmast staysail, was the work of some time, as the main-topsail was blowing out straight ahead in ribbons?as was also the mainsail. The sea continued to gather strength, and rolled with fearful fury. Unless more headway could be got on the ship, she must be immersed by the immense masses that were piled up astern. The wreck was no sooner cleared, than down came the main-topmast, carrying with it hall of the main-mast and the mizzen-topmast, Preventer tacks and sheets were attached tc the foresaiJ, pn?l a-?>iecrt, of ?!)*? fore-staysail set to the foremast head to prevent her broach ing to. Onward she hied, but faster than the course of the vessel rushed past the maddened waves. The foresail split, and the ribbons ranged out far ahead, and added to our peril by decreasing our speed. It was too late to lay to, and scud we must. The sea rolled in high, steady masses, and as they broke undei our stern, would shoot us ahead with still more fearful rapidity, as we rushed over the top of the sea ; but when we fell into the hol low, she would tremble, and lay as still as a babe in its crib; while high above us, ahead and astern, was the rough-edged sea waiting to fall upon us and leave not a speck behind. Immediately overhead, and framed by the white-crested surge, was the black curtain of tempestuous night. Fearful was the moment when we lay in the hollow!?nothing but a most perfect scaboat could ride out the lury of the tempest. The highest part of one sea had swept past us, but one more terrible than the rest was astern, and as the good ship rose on it, her head pointing down into the abyss below, and her stern at an angle of forty five degrees, the comb of the surge hung like a canopy over us! It broke?and sweeping us from taffrail to knight-heads, carried every thing before it. Our decks were swept?bin nacle, camboose, boats, and three of the men, were among the things that were. Onward at one desperate leap we flew, and again fell into the succeeding hollow. Another terrific wave was behind, and as she settled and almost seemed to gather stern way, we saw no chance of escape. ^To'lash ourselves to the rigging was the work of an instant; while the captain, taking two or three turns of a ! rope around his body and around the wheel, watched the shock, standing at an angle on his heels, with his head pointed back, that the sea might break down upon him and lessen the chance of being swept away. Like the former sea, only more formidable, it broke upon our quarter deck, pouring huge masses of water upon us. The ship trembled like an over-ridden racer, and seemed settling away from under our feet; but the coming waves were not so heavy. Fear and danger had sobered all on board; and with the speed that a case of life and death can compel, w^s a fore-staysail set. By degrees the day broke, the storm cleared away?and under jury-masts we reached New York in forty days. The papers detailed a long account of the damage done to the ship R ? and the loss of three of her crew in a gale?but rum did it! Boston, January, 1845. L. There is a Society in Trince Edward county, Va., which styles itself "Order of Self-Inclined Bachelors." The girls of course oppose this? and it is said that one girl has coaxed one of the chaps to resign. He recanted before a clergyman?for life. MY FATHER TAKES WINE. BY NIMBLE. Miss Williams is one ol the few young ladies our city cau claim as a temperance ad her parents are poor, but respected by gill that knew themt and to their poverty, perhaps, may be attributed her pious and praiseworthy exertions in the temperance cause. Miss Williams being an active teacher in the Sunday school attached to church, had solicited the superintendent, who was a favorite temperance man, to allow her to get the signatures of her class to the temperance pledge. He gladly consented, and she pro ceeded to secure the names, until she came to the fourth young girl in the class, when she was surprised by the little girl exclaiming, "My father takes wine and why should not I?" Miss Williams stood amazed, and replied, "Surely not, my dear, your father is a clergy .man." "Yes, Miss Williams, I can assure you he does," said the artless child. "But that is no objection why you should not sign, and therefore taste none." " I cannot sign. Pa says the temperance pledge is only for the poor, who drink nasty poison, and not for the gentlemen who take wine." The faithful teacher felt grieved and pained to be thus foiled by a child, and besought the object of her love to put her name to the pledge, and take it home to her father. " Oh, no! I love you, Miss Williams, but I dare not disobey my father; and besides, what would I drink when I visit Mrs. C., and Mrs. S., and Mrs. P., &c.; how they would laugh at me because I would not taste a little wine." "Ah! my dear," said Miss Williams, " these are the supporters of your father's church, and he, poor man, dare not expose the horrid vice, for fear of his situationand 1 with a tear in her eye, and a heavy heart, she left the child of the minister of God, and turn ing to a little pale, half-clad orphan, asked her ' to put her name to it. The chitd'a eyo sparkled at llio encouraging voice of her teacher, and with trembling heart and hand, gladly put her name to the paper, and felt but too happy that she could oblige her faithful friend. The cause of temperance flags for want of faithful men in high places. The same high-minded teacher of the rudi ments of Christianity, has to weep over her superiors' faults. Superiors, however, in nothing save a better home and a richer table, but as far inferior in nobelness of spirit, high toned morality, and a love of God and neigh bor, as a corporation light is to- the great orb of day.?.V. Y. Christal Fount. From the New Yorker. TIIE SAILOR HOME AT LAST. A SKETCH BY IIEV. JOHN DOWLINO'. It was in the winter of 1842, and during an interesting revival of religion in a New England congregation, of which the writer was pastor, that a pious father rose nearly at the close of an evening meeting, and spoke, in substance, nearly as follows: "Brethren, I wish you to pray for my first born son ! he has been a wild and wayward youth, but the child of many prayers. For the last eight or ten years, that is, from the age of thirteen years, he has been a wanderer on the deep; he has passed through many perils and hardships, sometimes been brought to the very brink of the grave, but an unseen hand has preserved him. Till within a few days he has continued careless and indif ferent to the concerns of his soul, but at length his mind seems tender, and we have begun to hope that the Spirit of God is at work on his heart. But, brethren, to-morrow he sails as an officer of a ship for China, and exposed as he will be to the temptations of a sailor's life, I tremble for his welfare. Brethren, pray for my first born son !" On that evening many a heartfelt prayer ascended to God for the said son, in which the praying father most heartily joined; but the object of those prayers sailed on the morrow, without a hope. * * ? Months rolled away, and still the prayers of! a father and mother followed that wanderer on the ocean wave, and hope was mingled with anxiety, doubt, and suspense. A year had pass ed away, and that father was permitted to ex claim, "Brethren, rejoice with me, my son which was dead is alive again; he was lost and is found." A letter had arrived from that son, with the joyful news that he had found the pearl of great price, and had been baptized in China by the Rev. Mr. Shack, a Baptist Missionary from America. "O," said he in this letter, "I have indeed rolled sin as a sweet morsel under my tongue, but God's protecting hand has been over me for good." Theu, after referring to the day of his baptism, " Oh, it was a day of days to my soul. A lovely, plea sant morning, and 1 did feel such a sweet peace; a peace that the unregenerated know nothing of. Since then I have literally, like the Eunuch, gone on ray way rejoicing." a few weeks longer, and the wanderer had returned, and in the circle of hie friends and home was permit ted to * ? * Tell to sinners round, Wlmt a dear Savior he had found. Two years more rolled away, * * * j and now the child of many prayers, the Chris, tian sailor, under the parental roof, was seen gradually sinking beneath the wasting influ ence of consumption. A milder climate was nought to arrest or to retard the progress ef decay. But in vain. The sailor returned home-To die. For a few days, and only for a few, was he permitted to linger on earth? and they were days of sadness?days of tears? and yet they were days of joy_of sweet and holy remembrances. Peaceful, and calm, and liaPPy? as ^6 gcnjlc slumbers of childhood on a mother's breast, was the dcath.bed of the sailor, lie had long been tossed amidst the tempest and the storm, and often had his heart leaped at the cry from the topmast, "Land ahead;" and now he was just at the end of his voyage, his eye was on the port, and he could feel that there was "Land ahead." As I heard, but a few days since, from the quivering lips of a tender sister, the tale of the more than peaceful, the triumphant departure of her sailor brother, I thought of the language in which a poet has described the death-bed scene of a " brother of the ocean." * * * * * His heart was on the shore, Where holy brethren meet at last, And storms are heard no more. T gently pressed his feeble hand, So soon to turn to clay; And wonder'd if lus heart was monn'd To meet that dreadful day, When, as if in my looks he read The thought?he cried out, "Land ahead 1" O, he could see beyond the skies, Beyond the grave could see, W here mansions of salvation rise, For such poor worms as he; And calmly trod the path that led Up straightway to that " Land ahead." Farewell to thee, mariner. Thy last voyage is ended. Thou hast reached the haven of eternal rest?the port of endless peace. The SAILOR IS HOME AT LAST. A SNAKE IN A CIDER BARREL. In a small and retired village in the north east part of the State of Connecticut, lives a wealthy farmer. This man professes to be a humble follower of Jesus Christ. He is fond of the intoxicating bowl. His parents are still living, both of whom a/e strictly temperate? as are most of the inhabitants of the place. The blush of shame would mantle his cheeks were they not bloated with cider. Of this ar ticle he has long kept a large quantity on hand. His neighbors at last began to discuss the subject, as to the quantity he daily con sumed. All agreed that he was not a tempe rate man. He was a man of wealth, and the church must not interlere. Finally he resolved that no more cider should be drank on his premises. The glad news of his reform sent a thrill of joy to many hearts. For a season he ran well?yet his lace, nose, and mouth, retained the same sottish aspect as before. Oh! ye temperate drinkers! ye tipplers! and all who drink " behind the door," take warn ing! because your sins will find you out. This man, so conscientious that he would not have a barrel of cider tapped in the cellar, procured a piece of leaden pipe, and sucked cider from the bung hole. The poisonous qualities of the lead mixing with the cider, received into his stomach, all but took his life. With great difficulty his physician restored him to health. Tipplers take the friendly warning; never profess to be what you are not. Death lurks in the cider barrel. SOMETHING FOR CLERGYMEN. The Rev. Dr. Hamilton, who, we believe, was a member of the late Presbyterian Gene ral Assembly, held in Cincinnati, at a Tem perance meeting in that city, related a passage in his history which no doubt told with thril ling effect. Many years ago, when quite young, his mind was first arouted on the sub- . ject of religion, by a sermon preached by a very pious and eloquent divine in New Jersey. A very short time after this, he left home to commence his education. In the course of about ten years he returned, and among his first inquiries was one l'or this minister, by whose preaching he had been awakened. He was answered by a dubious shake of the head ; but persevering in his inquiry, he was told that, from drinking an occasional glass, he had gone so far that he was deposed from the ministry, and finally cut olT from the church, ' and the last intelligence from him was, that he was expiating some crime in the State pri son. trow that moment Dr. Hamilton's mind i was made up on the subject, and he deter mined, be the sacrifice what it might, to exert , all his influence to banish the use of itttoxica* [ ting drinks.?S. C, Temp, Aili.