~,
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HUNTING
0 _ • Ni AL.
Debotte to Central Kittellltacntr, aTruertir4ing,Votitito, Utteraturr, ploralit», Art% Aden rm„lErisulturr„Sistutientent, tzt.,
%7c3Da. ay.
THEODORE H. CREMER,
Rr.§'
The "Jona v.t I." will he published every Wed
nesday morninl., at S 2 00 a year. if paid in advance,
and if not paid within six months, S 2 50.
No subscripim received for a shorter period than
six months, nor any paper discontinued till all ar
:Tamps are paid.
A Ivertise-nents not exceeding one square, will be
ins3rte.l three times for $1 00, and for every subse
qti rat insertion 25 cents. If no definite orders are
givsn as to the time an advertisement is to be continu
ed, it will be itept in till ordered out, and charged ac
cordingly,
Oa
130:1T.7.7.
The Last Good 33ye.
Farewell ! Farewell is often heard,
From the lips of those who port;
'Tis a whispered tone, 'tis a gentle word,
But it springs not from the heart.
It may nerve for the lover's lay.
To be sung 'neath a summer's sky ;
But give me the lips that say,
The honest words, ' , Good Bye."
Adieu! Adieu! may greet the ear,
In the guise of courtly speech;
But when we leave the kind and dear,
'Tis not tvhat the soul would teach.
Wheneer we grasp the hand of those,
We would have forever sigh,
The flame of friendship burns and glows
In the warm, frank words, " Good Bye!"
The mother, sending forth her child
To meet with cares and strife,
Breathes through her tears, her doubts and fears
For the loved one's future life.
No cold " Adieu," no " Farewell" lives
Within her choking sigh,
But the deepest sob of anguish gives,
"God bless thee boy—Good bye!"
Go. watch the pale and dying one,
When the glance has lost ita beam;
When the brow is cold as the marble stone,
And the world a passing dream;
And the latest pressure of the hand,
The look of the closing eye,
Yield what the heart must understand--
A long, a last "Good Bye V'
The Deathless Smile.
I saw one in her madenhood
From whom the lifo had fled,
And yet so lovely was her face
It seemed she was not dead !
Her eye-lids as in bleep were cloned,
Her brow wan white like snow ;
A smile still lingered on her cheeks,
As if 'twas loath to go!
And it may be a smile so sweet,
So quiet end serene,
Was never on the healthy brow
Of living maiden seen.
Perchance the wondrous bliss which buret
Upon her raptured mind'
When first she woke in glory's courts,
Now left its trace behind.
Her end was peace. I thought that they
Who loved her should not greive,
For these last words they heard her say,
"My spirit, Lord, receive !"
And when tlry laid her in the earth
Her cheek atilt held the bloom;
That smile so sweet the gentle maid
Bore with her to the tomb
Would it he strange if brighter tints
Upon the blossoms crept
Which grew above the sacred spot
Whore that meets maiden slept?
Gethsemane.
BY WILLIAM B. TAPPAN,
'Tie Midnight--and on Olive's brow
The cleric dimmed that lately shone;
'Tie Midnight—in the garden now,
The suffering Saviour prays alone.
'Tis Midnight—and from all removed,
Immanuel wrestlei, lone with fear;
E'en the disciple that he loved
Heeds not his Master's grief and team.
'Tie Midnight—and for °•here guilt
The man of Sorrows weeps in blood;
Yet IL. that oath in anguish knelt,
Is not foraaken by hie God.
"fis Midnight—from the heavenly plains,
Is borne the song that angels know ;
Unheard by Mortals ale the strains
That sweetly soothe the Baviour's wo.
The *olden Edged Cloud,
BY JOIEPII T. GURNEY.
A dark cloud was akirtinj the breadth of the sea,
A hewn on the brow of the West;
And nature was shrouded with sadness to me,
As it sank in the Ocean to rear
But the Sun that was wrapped in a mantle of woo,
Its radiance begins to unfold;
And the veil that was dark'ning the billow below,
la fringed and embroidered with gold.
This scene is the token of mental relief,
While it charms and refreshes the sight,
It bids me believe that the cloud of my grief,
Wit!soon wear a border of light.
The gilding of hope, and the beaming of love,
Vietorious o'er sorrows and fears ;
Are heralds of mercy from Heaven above,
To illumine this Valley of Tears.
TZIFiCZ:a:a.9.Z7MOT.7O.
A REVOLUTIONARY RELIC.
The following eloquent revolutionary sermon,
preached on the 10th Sept.l777, the eve of the bat
tle of Brandywine, by the Rev. Jacob Prout, to a
large portion of the American soldiers, in the pres
ence of General Washingtom . and General Wayne,
and others of the continental army, was recently
discovered among some old papers of Major John
Jacob Schocftnyer, an officer of the llevolution. It
should be perused by every lover of patriotism.
REVOLUTIONARY SERMON,
"They that take the sword shall perish by the
sword."
Soldiers and Countrymen : We have met this
evening perhaps for the last time. We have shared
the toil of the march, the peril of the fight, the
dismay of the retreat—alike we have endured cold
and hunger, the contumely of the internal foe, and
outrage of the foreign oppressor. We have sat;
night after night, beside the same camp fire, shared
the same rough soldiers' fare, we have together
heard the roll of the reveille, which called us to du
ty, or the beat of the tattoo, which gave the signal
for the hardy sleep of the soldier, with the earth for
his bed, the knapsack for his pillow.
And now, soldiers and brethren, we have met in
the peaceful valley, on the eve of battle, while the
sunlight is dying away behind yonder heights, the
sunlight that to-morrow morn, will glimmer on
scenes of blood. We have met, amid the whiten
ing tents of our encampment; in times of terror and
gloom, have we gathered together—God grant it
may not be for the last time.
It is a solemn moment. Brethren, does not the
solemn voice of nature seem to echo the sympathies
of the hour? The flag of our country droops hea
vily from yonder staff, the breeze hag died away
along the green plain of Chadtra Ford—the plain
that spreads before us, glistening in sun light—the
heights of the Brandywine arise gloomy and grand
beyond the waters of yonder stream, and all nature
hold a pause of solemn silence, on the eve of the
uproar, of the bloodshed and strife of to-morrow.
.‘ They that take the sword shall perish by the
sword."
And have they not token the sword?
Let the desolate plain, the blood-soddened valley,
the burned farm house, blackening in the sun the
cachet villages and the rava t ^,e•'
the whitening bones of the butchered farmer,
strewn along the fields of his homestead, answer—
let the starving mother, with the babe clinging to
the withered brea3t, that can afford no sustenance,
let her answer, with the death-rattle mingling with
the murmuring tones, that mark the last struggle
for life—let the dying mother and her babe answer!
It was but a day past, and our land slept in the
light of peace. War was not here—wrong was not
here. Fraud, and wo, and misery, and want, dwelt
not among us. From the eternal solitude of the
green woods, arose the blue smoke of the settler's
cabin, and golden fields of corn looked forth from
amid the waste of the wilderness, and the glad mu
sic of human voices awoko the silence of the forest.
Now ! God of mercy, behold the change !—Under
the shadow of a pretext, under the sanctity of the
name of God, invoking the Redeemer to their aid,
do these foreign hirelings slay our people! They
throng our towns, they darken our pinins, and now
they encompass our posts on the lonely plain of
Chadd's Ford.
"They that take the sword shall perish by the
sword."
Brethren, think me not unworthy of belief, when
I tell you that the doom of the British is near.—
Think Jae not vain, when I tell you that beyOnd the
cloud that now enshrouds us, I see gathering thick
and fast the darker cloud and blacker sham of a
Divine Retribution.
Thoy may conquer us on to-morrow ! Might and
wrong may prevail, and we may be driven from this
field—but tho hour of God's own vengeance will
come !
Aye, in the vast solitude of eternal space, if in
the heart of the boundless universe, there throbs the
being of an awful God, quich to avenge, and sure to
punish guilt, then will the man, George of Bruns
wick, culled King, feel in his brain and in his heart,
the vengeance of the Eternal Jehovah! A blight
will be upon his life—a withered brain, an accursed
intellect; a bight will he upon his children, and on
his people. Great God! how dread the punish
ment!
A crowded populace, peopling the dram towns
where the man of money thrives, while the laborer
starves; want striding among the people in all the
forms of terror ; as ignorant and God-defying priest
hood chuckling over the miserie. of millions; a
proud and merciless nubility adding wrong to wrong,
and heaping insult upon robbery and fraud; royalty
corrupt to the very heart; aristrocracy rotten to the
core; crime and want linked band in hand, and
tempting men to deeds of wo and death—thcso are
a part of the doom and the retribution that shall
come upon the English throne and the Englielt
people!
Boldiers—l look around upon your familiar facos
with a strange intereit! To-morrow morning we
will oil go forth to battle—for need I tell you that your
unworthy miuistor
will march with you, invoking
God's aid ite the fight I--we will march forth to bat
tle ! Need I exhort you to fight the good fight, to
light for your homesteads, and for your wives anti
children I
My friends, I might urge you to fight by the gall•
2,DZDa:"-7 0 LPEII. O E3 O t2E:l4.'
ing memories of D ritish wrong! Walton—l might
tell you of your father butchered in the silence of
midnight on the plains of Trenton ; I might picture
his pray hairs dabbled in blood; I might ring his
death-shriek in your ears. Shelinire I might tell
you of a mother butchered, and a sister outraged—
the lonely farm-house, the night assault, the roof in
flames, the shouts of the troopers, as they despatch
ed their victim, the cries for mercy, the pleading of
of innocence for pity. I might paint this all again,
in the terrible colours of the vivid reality, if I
thought your courage needed such wild excitement.
But I know you aro strong in the might of the
Lord. You will go forth to batttle on the morrow
with light hearts and determined spirits, though the
solemn duty—the duty of avenging the dead—may
rest heavy on your souls.
And in the hour of battle, when all around is
darkness, lit by the lurid eatmon"glare, and the pier
cing musket flash, when the wounded strew the
ground and the dead litter your path, then remember
soldiers, that God is with you. The eternal God
fights for yoil—ho rides on the battle cloud, he
sweeps onward with the march of the hurricane
charge--God, the Awful and Infinite, fights for you,
and you will triumph.
41 They that that take the sword shall perish by
the sword."
You have taken the sword, but not in thesphit of
wrong and ravage. You have taken the sword fur
your home; for your wives, for your little ones.
You have taken the sword for truth, for justice
and right, and to you the promise is, Do of good
cheer, for your foes have taken the sword in defi
ance of all that man holds dear, in blasphemy of
God—they shall perish by the mord.
And now, brethren and soldiers, I bid you all
faewell. Many dos may fill in the fight of to-mor
row---God rest the souls of the fallen—many of us
may live to tell the story of the tight of to-morrow, and
in the metnory of all will ever rest and linger the
quiet scene of this autumnal night.
Solemn twilight advances over the valley; the
woods 'on the opposite heights fling their long sha
dows over the green of the Meadow---around us are
the tents of the continental host, the suppressed bus
tle of the camp, the hurried tramp of the soldiers to
and fro among the tents, the stillness and silence
that marks the eve of battle.
When we meet again, may the long shadows of
twilight be flung over a peaceful land.
God in Heaven great it.
PRAYER OF THE RE VOL UTIoN
Great Father, we bow before thee. We in
voke thy blessing, we deprecate thy wrath; we re
turn thee thanks for the past, we ask thy aid for
the future. Jar we are in times of trouble, oh !
Lord, and sore beset by foes, merciless and unpity
ing ; the sword gleams over our land, slid the dust
of the soil is dampened with the blood of our neijll
- and friends.
• Oh ! God of mercy, we pray thy blessing on
the American arms. Make the man of our hearts
strong in thy wisdom; bless, we beseech with re
newed life and strength, our hope, and Thy instal
ment, even Genie 1s :Tom--shower 'Abs
counsels on the honorable, the Continental Con
gress; visit the tents of our host, comfort the sol
dier it his wounds and afflictions, nerve hint fur the
tight, prepare him for the hour of death. •
And in the hour a defeat, oh! God of Hosts, do
thou he our stay, and in the hour of triumph ho thou
our guide.
Teach us to ho merciful. Though the memory
of galling wrongs ho at our hearts, kLockin;; f
admittance, that they may fill us with desires of
revenge, yet let ua, oh ! Lord spare the vanquished
though they never spared ua, in their hour of.butelp
ery and blood-shed. And, in the hour of death, do
thou guide us into the abode prepared for the bleat;
so shall we return thanks unto thee, through Christ
our Redeemer,--the rnosein •roc c.tusc=Amer►
FLOWERS AND Stine as.—Why does not every
iady who can afford it, have a geranium or souse
other flower in her window? It is very cheap—its
chjapness is next to nothing, if you raise it front
seed; or from a slip; and it is n beauty and a com
panion. It gives an air of cheerfulnes4 and quiet
loveliness to all around, and is ever an evidence of
a relined taste and pure heart. It was the remark
• of Leigh Hunt, that it sweetens the air, rejoices
the eye, links you wills nature, and is something to
love. And if it cannot love you in return, it can
not utter a hateful thing, oven if you neglect it; for,
though it is all beauty, it has no vanity ; and such
being the case, and Ining as it does, purely to do
good and afford you pleasure, how will you be able
to neglect it? We receive in imagination the scent
of these good.matured leaves, which allowed you to
carry off their perfume on your Mtge.; for good
natured they ore, in that respect,—above all other
plants, and fitted for the hospitality of our room.
The very feel of the leaf has it household warmth
its it--something analogous to clothing and comfort.
A Mare:tar ll iLL.--- , lle you ever go to milita
ry balls?' inquired a young Miss of an tared vete
ran. 'No, my darling,' was the reply, I do not
like them; I lost my le; by one eau!' At the
word 'leg the lady fainted.
Tho happiness or unhappiness of life depend+
moro on little circumstances or interests of the heart,
than ono event, apparently of the greatest impor
tance.
(j Dow Jr's., Patant Sermon—ilea fourth Fag.
The following Lecture is given to the public in compliance with the wish ex ,
pressed in the annexed note:
GEouc; TAYLOR, Esq.,
Sir--
Having listened with much pleasure and
interest to the Lecture you delivered sonic timesinee upon the "ReTo.dbibly
q f Mc Liq aye Seller,"—and feeling assured that great good can but result front
its publication, together with an ardent interest in that cause, which we think
your Lecture in so highly calculated to promote, we respectfully ask you to
favor us with a copy for publication. Knowing the deep and abiding interest
you not only manifest but feel in thin cause, we trust you will comply with our
request.
A. K. CORNY N, JAMES STEEL,
W. P. ORI3ISON, W. ORBISON,
E. V. EVERHART, D. AVAIURTRIE.
A. W. BENEDIUT, S. MILES GREEN,
THE RESPONSIBILITY
OF TOE
a...) u t , c,
If any ono here possessed all the wealth of this town,—the town and all its
wealth,—and were doomed to a solitary occupation of the possession, no other
human being within, or permitted to come within, one thousand miles of it, it is
not easy to conceive how he could be enveloped in circumstances of more utter
poverty and destitution. Nay, if this continent, with all its almost infinite re
sources,—all the improvements with which industry and science, ministering to
the requirements of social life, have enriched and adorned it, and all the millions
of treasure it contains, were his, and, standing "solitary and alone" in thy centre
of his vast possrs3ions,ho could boast,
" I am monarch of all I survey,
My right there is "lox]: to dispute'!-.
though thus surrounded with abundance to make a great nation rich, he might
envy the let of Lazarus begging crumbs. The poverty that begs from door to
door, would be gladly received for his millions ;—the meanest hut ever tenanted,
even among a race of semi-savage men, for his ten thousand empty edifices, in
all their gloomy splendour ;—the cell of a prison, where 110 could only see the
hand that fed him in thesiekly rays falling upon him through a sky-light only catch
the distant din of civilized life through it walls, for the unrestrained range of the
continent;—the most abject and degrading vassalage to Jew or Took, for the
sceptre of his wide dominion. Every non, in other largrourp, is immediately
and entirely dependant upon those almond Ilion. No one is independent. In
the wise mrangement of Providence, MI Men ret for no one can
live, or enjoy the comfort and advantages of ciailivcd life, wilbout Me aid and
Ges'stanee qt . °Tumuli Front this mutual dependence of one upon another, of
each upon all, results necessarily a responsibility of paery man to his neighbour,
°l each of its members to the entire community, for the contribution of his ;Igen
cy in that general assistance and protection, without which 110 enmontinity
could possibly exist, or any ono enjoy its benefits. Without supposing the
existence of an implied contract entered into upon this reasonable comoidetteion,
. at the formation of society ;—independent of the ties of sympathy and brother
'hood, resulting front our relation as childien of common parents, and members
of one great Nuttily,—end of the plain teachings of Divine revelation,—man's
duly to k..'s ne.:4•hbour is written in legible characters upon every phase of hu
man sociel—felt in every contact with it. It it proclaimed with the utmost
distinctness by the voice °Freese!' ; urged by every impulse of humanity; enfor
ced by necessity'. Look around you a moment, and tell noe what eating, what
regular pursuit of man, we. as n community, could spare. Which of what are
called "the learned professions" I--what one of the various mechanical pursuits?
Try the oNyeriment of dismissing from the public service, and dispensing with,
ono tale: souther of the various lawful callings of nnon—tof the professional
man, the farmer, the printer. the merchant, the weaver, tailor, halter, tat.
tier, shoemaker, and on to the lust on the long list, and before you would be
able to nay, AM INDEVENDENT, I LIVE UPON MY OWN RESOURCES. IEO OWE
NO II tree ott n ESP.'S! neer To UTE ens," you would find yourself inhabiting a
wi T wan t , or roving the wilderness in moccasins, and feeding upon dried fish and
jerked venison! Every blessing we have, limn that peaceful security which
encircles 1114 when we lie down and when we rise up—nay, front the means of
developing and improving the mind, and storing it with useful knowledge, and
of opening to the vision of the immortal soul its eternal destiny', down to the
mere codvenienee of a road to mill, is conferred upon us through the instrtomen
tolity of social aid. Every one receives benefits from society : every one Owen
it duties: no one fills his place and discharges the responsibility incident to his
social relation, who does not contribute somethirgr, in return, to the general
welfare. No one is just ijinble in pursuing a business which does not, in, one
degree, subserne the public weal. How few are there of such pursuits! When
wo look abroad upon the farms and work-shops, the store-houses and manufac
tories, upon every scene of active industry, and examine carefully the employ
ments of the community, we find them ell moving and working together, like
accurately adjusted parts of a piece of intricate machinery, far the prosperity and
well being of the whole,—with one prominent and almost solitary exception—
TIIE BUSINESS OF THE LIQUOR SELLER ! Every other regular call
ing, with, perhaps, this one exception, does its part. The hengman, even, per
fortits a necessary office. But who can point out one benefit which the too..loess
of the liquor-seller, as such, confers upon the emit: nullity, in return fur the
benefits and blessing it confers upon hint I Who can point cut the good it
does I Who is there to stand up tool say it does ANY The business of the
liquor-seller, to say the very least of it, oprds no rent benefits taany. V s iew-
Mg it in the utmost charity. and in the most favoursble light, anti keeping in the
back-ground, out of sight. all the inexpressible evil it works, it alone, of all other
ell lin a followed amongst us, cheats society entirety of its dues—foils, utterly and
always, to "render unto Caesar the things that are Cresar's." Society protects
him: hut lie aids .t, by his lousiness, in extending protection to his fellow-1
ambers; or, if lon does, it is the protection the wolf gives the lanai! It feeds
him;—anal it bites its hand! The useful callings of his fellow-numbers pro
vide hint and his family with every necessary, every delicacy and convenience;
and he glees them.—what nooses ! He makes no return. He is a delinquent
in every duty. He is u eviler in society'—a mere pauper upon it bounty. If
the community were to withdraw front hint, and leave him alone, he worth,
starve; while his remove' from their midst, would be but the removal of a public
charge, and would be hailed by thousands, with heart-felt sincerity, and in the
purest benevolence, as a public blessing.
1. Here commences the liquor-seller's responsibility. It has a deeper (Minds
lien than the abuse of an honest traffic by exorbitant enaction, without ren
dering any reasonable equivalent in „ value." His Tot Ana, topanited from all
its consequences, is, ix evert, a contravention of the fundamental laws of
society ; a practical " repudiation" of the first obligation of man to his H ow ,
man.—of the citizen to the community,—of tho patriott of his country. IT is or
NO REAL lIENEVIT TO ANY.
If this were all, society might cancel his obligations, and release him from his
responsibility. If he would caret nothing else, it might bid him reach out a
more grasping hand, and take a yet. larger share, a Benjamin's pref., from
that cosumen stock to which Iris business contributes nothing. But this is not
all. Oh, that it were I It is but the beginning of his responsibility—hut a
Bather to the ponderous loud with which he burdens the community, its suppor
ting the idlers and paupers his busineNa makes.
H. He not only tails to add to the common stork himself, but substracts largely
front it. He not only does nothing for the public good, but prevents others from
doing any thing—and robs the country of 'licit services, and but diens it wills
their support, also. Mr own business is net merely tt. sties its dregs others
into dissolute itileneaa, end seduces them front employment, whi c h are rat io ;
which, unlike his own, the community cannot dispegsc with. It rEAEE4, ill
truth, TO Sc a aver a Etis, When it erases to tempt - men from their lawful busi
ness to his Isar— fo.ms their ellices and shops to his bar-room; to snake them
idle, and drunken, and worthless—loungers and drunkards, if not paupers rind
vagabond's. It ceases to yield him protit, the very moment it ceases to im
poverish ;there, and rob the community ;--to clothe his children in silks and
broadcloth, whets it erases to clothe the children of others its rugs ;—to support
his family, when it ceases to beggar the families of others' Nothing could h e !
more evident. Every man has the witness of los reason, the testimony of his
senses, that thi,, is true. Every one knows that the business of tire liquor-seller !
thus degrades rnultiliules from their apl•rupriale pests of useful.as in the corn- !
nmti ty—dissipatee t he skill, energy; eapaci ty. Mad industry, as !shit they are under
obligators to employ for the public good. into dissolute idleness, and renders
them yet more weeds's:ss than himself. All know• thin; for every neighbourhood
has its examples—its scores of them. Eeu•h can form entire estimate of their
immense stgregate multitude, loon the number he con count within n littlecircle
around bhuself; and every one, capable of thinking, can furor some hunt hien of
the innnense injury thus done to the counnunity.—the extent to which it is thus
robbed end plundered of what is more essential to its we 11-tscisig than gold and
silver,—by endeavouring to enswer te himself the question, „ what would that
community be,—what benefits mid blessings would it confer s —what sympathy,
shelter, and protection would it afford to any who might seek en asylum, and
and a refuge in its bosom, if ALL its members were as entirely useless, as recreant
and faithless to the obligations they owe to others, a. TILE sieron-smten, and
this multitude of his half ruined victims?" And, descending one step lower in
search of the inflictions of his useless business upon the social body, we see rags,
and ignorance. and poverty, and squalidness, marking his tiack, and scattered
broad-coat over the laud. They rise up into view wherever we turn our eyes.—
They accompany liquor-selling as a part of its horrid retinue--of its trophies.
Where it works, they are produced. They are its legitimate offspring—its cer
tain and spontaneous fruit,. Oh, let each picture to himself the deplorable con
dition of the community, if they were the furniture of every house, the inheri
tance of every family, and prepare himself to sit in judgment between the
liquor-seller and his country !
But to all these, he &tilde a heavy burden of rtetioripeeperism. Not content
in withholding limo society its just claim upon liimself,—with inducing multi
tudes of others to repudiate its fundamental laws, and defraud it of its just
dues—with covering yet others of its members with poverty and rags —he set
des this more nearly finished specimen of his sinecure trade, his actual pbuvers,
upon "every ward, borough, and township!" ft is a truth, well known, that
an amount equal to 1, if not a greater proportion, of the pauperism which con
tinually taxes the cotmfry, is produced by liquor-selling. Let any one examine
the private history of thole for otiose support he is taxed; end he will find t last
at leant that proportion of them, have been reduced to that Filtration, by the
direct or indirect agency of the liquor-seller: and that, but for him and his tei
siness, they would in all probability be useful members of society, supporting
themselves, and aiding, in the support of the very few whom miefortune might
else have trade the proper objects of public bounty;
And now, the community, aroused by injuries and burdens increased beyond
the power of further endurance, front the lethargy in which it has been bound,
fixes its eye steadily and sternly upon the liquor-seller, and calls him to accoun
tability. And what can he answer Ile cannot deny the charge; for he
j knows that it is true. He knows ha his ha art that his business is of rte benefit
to sny. Ho knows that if liquor-selling land never cursed the land, the evils
enumerated would not make it groan. lie knows this. All know it. To .
deny it, would ho to deny what every ono knows, and, if candid, must acknowl
edge to be true. lie cannot deny the charge. He would not dare to adduce,. in
this scrutiny, his certificate of "heave reputable citizens.," though judicially
endorsed, that what he has done was for "TIitiACCOMIIIIMATION or Tura reside!"
exeuse then, what justification does he plead? With what argument
will he justiliy his conduct to his own conscience, and before his accusers?--
Will he deny his obligations to his fallow-men, and to his country ? Will he
pretend that lie h is u leers' right, while lie enjoys the public assistance and's,
lei lien, to !ensue a business which contributes nothing, in return, to the public
witare, even if that business did not return evil for good 1 And, if ho has not,
I has he a right to absolve others from that obligation ; and make others idle and
worthless I Will lie pretend that he has a right to make paupers, and tax the
useful indt.stiy of the country with their support? Will he chum the right to
live upon the labour, to rise upon the rant) of others? Or, will he say, in &Here
; gard of every obligst'en of duty,every impulse of gratitude, patriotism, and ha
,
annuity," thus I make a livelihood: it is my way of supporting my family ;
cannut be accountable for the COW efitlelleeB of my business." Thia, indeed, is
all lie can .y ; but let him reflect, before he ventures to mouth a plea so palpably
! and utterly basalt as. Let him not ruddy hazard a sup upon this last rotten
plank. Let him take care! If the lawfulness or propriety of any business be
judge? of only by the profit it yields to those who pursue it, there is no system
!of robbery and extortion which this plea would not justify. It would justify;
equally with himself, the slave-speculator—the usurer—the cheat--the gambler
—the utterer of spurioue money—the highway-matt. He con neither deny, nor
escape from the consequences of his business. And, let him know that the
community, awake and determined, will hold him, before the bar of public opin-
I jam where he is already arraigned, to a strict and severe accountability ! , Ita t
object is not vengeance, but self-defence—self-preservation. It calls hot for res
titution ; for that it knows he cannot make. It stands ready, on the contrary,
to confer free forgiveness, unconditional pardon for the Fast, if ho would only
desist from further injury in the future. And, if he rejects terms so reasonable,
Ise gracious, let hint prepare to bear, unpitied, its ri,eliteous eondemnution
i But he must answer to more serious charges. Those already considered,
heady as they ere, dwindle into insignificance, in comparison with others to
which he is equally obnoxious. Although no ono has a right to disregard the
obligations, which he owes to the social body, without whew aid he could not
live, and still less to make a trade of robbing the public of tho time slid toil of
ethers, fitted by capacity, education, and habit, for usefulness, the active energies
of the nation would still, perhaps, he able to carry it forward, in its onward
march of prosperity, with the whole army of liquor-sellers, and the loungers,
and paupers, and vagabonds they make, hanging to its skirts, end pressing it
down. Poverty and ',every. in theinselvee considered, are not the worst of
evils. The despised and afflicted beggar, spurned from the rich man's gate, to
a participation with dogs in the crumbs that fall from his table, may he soon
borne by angels, high above earth's keenest sorrows, to Abraham's bosom !
II lonest poverty,—poverty unstained by guilt,—may live a life of harmless res
ignation, if not of usefulness, anal die with "hope of bliss beyond the grave."
If the liquontrado spread abroad only such poverty, it, too, could be borne.
111. 'The liquor-seller is arraigned on the higher charge of flooding the land
with crime. breathing upon it a moral pestilence, blightingthe enjoyment of its
prosperity and destroying its peace. Most of, the feuds which rend it—of the
crimes which agitate and distract it, and fill it with fear, and cover it with dia.
grace,—are traced to a comtnon source in the grog-shop, where the liquor seller
is stationed, holding the tund controlling the desolating tide. When
his business is brisk, the sluices open wide, and the fiery torrent, Ile Is, from
the crater of a vi lean°, burst. rapidly anal wildly, consuming what it touches,
land withering anal blighting fitr beyond the touch of its waves. When his
1 sinees is doll, the remain is narrowed, and the area of the moral wefts) proper-
I tionably ciacumseiibed. Crime and its consequences ebb arid flow, rise and fall;
with alit' fluctuations in his undo. When he is most busy dealing out the mul
-1 ning and demoralizing liquid, the courts are most busy trying violators of tho
law amd disturbera of the peace. When the bar rooms are constantly
crowded with customers, the prier,ns are tilled with convicts. When the liquor-
seller's business is everywhere patronized and profitable, his country mourns,
land weeps, anal bleeds. When prosperity in his trade brings joy to his home,
and gladness to his heart, it fills many a home with anguish, and leaves in many
u heart ‘• an netting void tho world can never fill." What a trade ! Yet such,
in truth, it is !-- In the years 1834-5, when the number of taverns in this
county averaged 74, the criminal prosecutions averaged 76 in each year-76
bills of indictment or suretiea of the peace; brought inte this room; in the
I years 1841--2--3, the taverns averaged 42, and the public prosecutions 46
end then anal now, here and elsewhere. at least of the criminal prosecutions
had and have their origin in fie se establishments for " the accommodation of
the public." Examine the records of this court. and of every other court, and yeti
will find something approaching this nice proportion between registereil grog
shops and recorded crime. I have examined here;—go you and look, and see
whether I speak the truth. And, having done so, ask the judges—ask the erns
cars of the court—ask all who have been its constant attendants anal the partici
pants in its business.—and they will all bear united testimony, that of the
entries and misdemeanors which have thus been the subjects of investigation in
court, and which have rent, and agitated, and taxed, and disgraced the county,
and filled it with lamentation and mourning,"—of all that make up the black
catalogue from the moat trivial misdemeanor to murder,—have resulted, directly
or indirectly, from the cursed traffic in intoxicating liquors. Oh, it is true, that
crime keeps even pace with the liaaor.seller's business!—true, Tare; and
every man knows it ! Let our "landlords" come here and read this history of
their doings in the docket of the court of Quarter Swede.: Let them compare
the list of taverns with the list of indictments ! Let them examine, too; the re
cord obituurice in the inquests qt' the coroner;, and ask, tui they read of one af
ter another whose disfigured corpse had been picked up from the earth, and res.
cued from the birds and wild beasts,--whose work was that ? And oh, if such
et idence carries no conviction to their minds, no disquietude to their breasts. let
it at least remind them of that record with which they may not sport! But
why go tO records far evidence? Why- seek higher testimony than that of the
senses Every eye has setel--every ear heard,--every member of the body
politic felt, the awful truth. All know from personal observation that alinoet
every affray, riot. assault and battery, or mob, that is ever breaking the public
peace, and spreading Menu, and tenor, and insecurity. and devastation, and
bleed-shed, through the community, is but the spirit of the grog-thop acted out
in its reckless fury. 4.Plieee crimes are seldom witnessed when the liquor-seller
is not abroad. They are the first fruits of inebit Mon. the commodity of hia traffic.
The extreme poverty, idleness, ignorance, and depravity, which give birth to
almost every other species of mildie crime which is continually mingling bitter
ness arid sorrow in the cup of peblic happiness, poisoning the enjoynients of the
community, and etinging its vitals, loop nut nisei' it front the saute Pandora's box.
Let limineselling prover and Jilinw itself universally as-to throw its virus, and
breath its demoralizing breath ilea every home, and who need be informed that
the whole land would be converted into a Pandimenium l Let liquor-selling
wane and waste until its blighting influence be no longer known, and who need
be told that the whole land, relieved from this plague end parent of plagues,
would rise and glow in the beauty, revel iu the peace, and joy in the innocence.
of a comparative Eden!
Huntingdon, April 19, 1844,
- -".,d,naacmacE) ZE'Scc). -k(Me3B.
;r4INCITAION
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