** - 0t . . -- ; ... 5''' ,. ..**05*'44t44, - . 'Ai14.00.-tt:'''' 137 ROBERT WECITE NtirnDLETorro CaaLtUIS7DO -"With sweetest flowers enrich'd From various gardens cull'd with core." 11-om the Philadelphia Saturday Chronicle WINTER. The chilly sighs of winter steal Acmes the cheerless wood, and vale, While boughs nod to the sullen peal And rock promiscuous in the gale. The fearless spirit of the air, Waves his arms across the storm. An icy crown his ringlets bear And robes of snow surround his form. His car like glittering diamonds seem While riding o'er the distant hills, His freezing breath binds fast the stream And nature's captive where he wills. The beanteous grove, and woodland bower Are covered with his icy tears. And while ho sweeps the mountains o'er, Their tops like dazzling spar appears. His sullen breath comes sighing round The cottage or the stately dome. While many a merry blissful sound Speak mirth, or peaceful joy at home. ;Arid winter, though thy cheerless mien Lay waste to prospects sweetly fair. There's something in thy lurid scene To teach the mind how frail we are. The varied seasons roll away,,, On time's untiring wing'ethey're bourne, And by thy egid conquering sway, Are buried 'neath his mouldering urn. And thus with life, its seasons too Pass on from yo uth to wasting age, Till death, like winter, heaves in view And grasps the soul rom nature's stage. Bat there's a world of sweet repose Far from this nether boisterous sphere, Where winter never fans the rose, And Bowers in endless bloom appear. No threatening clouds hang o'er its skies, No bowling tempest there is known, Bat glorious beams successive rise And shine from heaven's eternal throne. Blest world of joy—of life—of love, Bow soon shall I thy beauties share, Shall I at list in rapture move, Among the blest that mingle there? Grant, holy Lord, when time is o'cr, And I in dreamless slumber fall, My spirit may triumphant soar, To thee, my Saviour, God, my all! 4111al 1-33r852,balUU'OIBITo Papa SHE- TNICEERBOWLER FOR DECEMBER TILE JPRIP•ITEER. By the author , of "The Escape," "Jack Marlin !pike's-Yarn," de. It was one of those beautiful days, which all who navigate the ocean have often experienced within the tropics. The sun had just risen, spark. ling with freshness from his watery bed, and was slowly wheelingthrough a host of gorgeous clouds, that floated•nutjestically along the horizen; an in: vigorating influence pervaded the scene, and a fine breeze, that came sweeping across the sea promised to preserve the balmy and delicious temperature that the cooling 'dews of the previous night had imparted to the atmosphere. That particular part of the Carribean Sea to ' which we would direct the reader's attention, was, on the day described, enlivened by the appearance of a fleet of vessels of war, in hot pursuit of a small clipper brig, which held the advance at about the dis9pe of five miles. This body of ships comprised a part of the British West India squad ranrend had been despatched by the admiral of that station to Hallifax, in order to render more efficient protection to their possessions and corn. merce in that quarter, as the depredations on the American privateers were daily becoming more bold andfrequent. This squadron had been sail )* inclose order during the night, but at the time our scene opens, it had been broken, in conse quence of the commodore throwing out signal to make all sail, and endeavor to come up with the Chase. Each ship of the fleet, therefore, in accor., dance with the order,mado all eail;the swifter vessels were observed dropping astern, and taking their stations in the rear. The ship of the commander of the 'squadron, a frigate of the first class, held her place in about the centre of the fleet; three heavy corvettes brotight up the rear, while the advance was maintained by the body of smaller vessels. A beautiful eighteen gun brig, that had that morning formed ono of the rear line, now led the extreme van. She had passed every vessel of the squadron successively, and was now gradu ally dropping them with a speed that held out every prospect of overhauling the chase. The wind was right aft, and each ship had her studding sails out on either side. Piles of white canvass Toss above the dark bulls that loomed dimly beneath them; and the surface of the sea seemed ono vast - expanse of snowy pyramids. Leaving the squad ron to make the best of their way, the reader must imagine himself upon the quarter-deck of the little brig, upon whose capture they were all so eager ly bent. A single glance at her arrangements, and those who conducted them, would bespeak her a priva. toer; indeed, were that good looking fellow, who has just laid dowinthe trumpet and taken up the spy-glass, attired in uniform, the brig might be easily mistaken for a national vessel. She differs from one in no other particular. Six beautiful long guns protrude from either side, while a heavier one revolves in a circle, amidships. The decks tell talcs of holy stone and sand, and the neatness every where apparent, indicates the reign' of discipline. A row of bright boarding-pikes, _are confined to the main boom by gaskets of white brie, while a quantity of cultlasees and battle-axes glitter in the beckets that are fixed purposely for their reception in the intermediate spaces of the battery. Racks of round shot frown from beneath :each gun carriage, and boxes of grape and canister, with au attendant match-tub, are arranged at reg ular intervals along the deck. Every belaying pin is bright, and the brass work of the, wheel and binnicles show`in elegant and rich contrast with the mahogany of which they are constructed.— And mark the gay, healthy frontispieces of the tars who line the decks; a noble set of fellows, who, to echo their sentiments, would go to the very devil for their officers. Observe that veteran: haw respactfully he touched his hat, as the commander ascended from the cabin, and what an elegant looking man is Captain Buntline—so tall, and yet so graceful—so majestic, and yet so prepossessing. I like those black whiskers: they set off his com plexion to admiration. His counternance, it is true, is somewhat stern, but is not a repulsive ex. pression; it savors more of dignity; and that jet black eye!—mark how it flashes, as ho sends his gaze aloft, to ascertain if all there is right. See!— he is addressing the young man with the glass, who is his first lieutenant, and, at present, officer of the deck—He smiles; did you ever see a man's countemance undergo so complete a changel— All that sternness has vanished, and his features arc beautifully animated. "Do we leave them, Mr. Trennelll Those near most ships appear to be hull down." "Yes, Sir, they are poor sailors," answered the lieutenant; abut there's a brig among 'ern that has been overhaulling us since sunrise, The fellow move's along like a witch: I've been watching him for the last h and have seen him pass every hour and in the squadron: another hour, and the var mint will be pushing his old iron into us." "Let him come on!" rejoined the commander eyeing the object of this colloquy through the tele scope. “we could match with two of them: but you are correct; the villian is coming down, wing and wing, and gaining each moment upon us. • He must be hungry for a fight." ~Y es," rejoined the other; expect her skipper has been reading the "Life of Nelson" and feels an inclination to immortalize himself. He'll be less eager however, before we get through with him." didn't think that there was any thing in his majesty's service that could show the Rover her stern before," remarked Captain Buntline. ""Our copper wants cleaning," rejoined the lieu tenant,pand our sails are old, and hold,no more wind than so much bobbinett: besides, Sir, I thiiik that fellow is_Baltimorebuilt—eome slaver they've caught on the coast of Guinea—or perhaps, some unfortunate devil of a privateer: those ten gun chancel-gropers don't run the line off the reel at that rate, in such a catspaw as this. "Here, Bobstay," said the commander to an old quarter-master, "take the glass, and see what you can make of that fellow." The veteran divested his mouth of a huge chew of tobacco, and hitching up his trowsers, commenced scanning the English man, with an eye proverbial for its acuteness and experience. "That are is a mob-towner, Sir, as the Irv. tenant says, • and coming down with a big bone in her mouth, too." "Why are you positive about her being a Bal timore built, Bobigny?" asked the commander. "Because, Sir," answered the tar, "there's no end to the sticks them fellows put in their crafts; and besides, if ye'll obsarve, she han't half the beam of them ten-gun tubes; her yards are squarer, too, and she's no reach to her sails." "Your observations are conclusive, Bobstay," said the commander; "but can we servo her out, think your The old tar smiled at the question, and replen ishing his mouth with a foot or two of "Ay, Sir, two such fellows, and two more in thirty minutes afterwards." "Go to your duty," said the commander, good hnmoredly; you've turned boaster, in your old days." At meridian, the English brig was some six or seven miles in advance of the headmost ship of the squadron, and not more than two in the rear of the chase. Although Captain Buntline had de termined on fighting her, he still continued under a press of sail, for the purpose of drawing his ad versary at such a distance from the main body, as to preclude the possibility of their interference in the engagement. Another hour, however, brought the Englishman within gun-shot; and, determined to secure every advantage of circum stances, he put his helm down, and bringing his battery to bear, fired a broadside into the still retreating Rover. It was not until that moment, that Buntline could ascertain the force of his antagonist; but a single glance, previous to her filling away, convin ced him of her superiority. "Take in the light sails, and haul up the cour ses!" said the commander of the privateer, and ano ther moment beheld the gallant brig moving along under her two topsails. "Boat to quarters, and open the magazine!" "Ay, ay, Sir," was the reply; and the loud roll the drum was heard, summoning every man from the depths and heights of the vessel to their respective stations. In a few moments the order to cast loose the guns followed, and every man commenced getting the iron machines ready for the work or death, with the alacrity and good humor peculiar to'a sailor, and with an expedition and regularity that was the result of much previous experience in like matters. The tompions were taken out—the train and side tackles cut adrift— the pumps rigged, and the d_ecka sanded, 'fore and aft, to prevent them from becoming slippery with blood; cutlasses, pistols, and boarding pikes were placed in convenient situations about the decks; the . porta were triced up, the hatches closed, with the exception of a small opening left for the purpose of passing powder from below; the loggerheads were heated, matches burned beside every gun; and in short every preparation was made that such cases render . expedient. The Englishman had not yet taken in any of his canvass, and was consequently rapidly near ing the Rover. It was the mutual desire of the commanders, that their vessels should be brought into close action; the Englishman from a wish to decide the contest before the squadron could be close enough to assist, and thereby rob him of his anticipated glory; and the American,from a know ledge that his escape depended upon his success in disabling the only vessel in the fleet, that was his superior in sailing. At length but a quarter of a mile intervened between the ships, and the Briton commenced handing his right sails—stud ding sails, royals, and courses were successively taken in, and the pursuer appeared undei nearly the same canvass as the chase. - "Starboard!" shouted Buntline to the man at the wheel, as ho beheld the bows of his adversary sweep gracefully to port. oStarboanl Sir," answered the quarter-master; and the Rover's broadside was brought parallel to that of the Englishman, while at the same time the stars and stripes ascended with a graceful fluty ter to her main -peak. A volume of smoke and flame burst from the bulworka of the Britton, and his iron crashed fearfully through the spars and rigging of the privateer. Although Captain Burr- 46 1 WISH NO OTHER HERALD, NO OTHER SPEAKER OF HE LIVING ACTIONS, TO KEEP MINE HONOR FRAM CORRUPTION."-.-811A118. eatiqPireiMPZLlZ/Zr e ZP42.43 9 JAMEPtbalre catamPaziat eo aciavo "Men," resumed Buntline, ""the signal will be fLiberty.'—and when I give it forth, let lads, one ofyou do as I have directed; now, my lads, don't forget the word Liberty." Groups of men were now seen spiking tho can non 'fore and aft, so as to render them perfectly useless. The muskets were all thrown overboard, and the powder, with the exception of what each man carried about him totally destroyed; this done, the crew armed themselves, and mustering aft, a waited the farther orders of their commander. In the moan time, the Englishman was rapidly advancing, with the intention of carrying the A merican by bo'arding. He was not ton yards as tern, and at every moment gained on the Rover.— Buntline stood watching him,as the tiger does his prey, scarcely breathing, in the intensity of his in terest, and awaiting with a painful suspense the moment when ho might put his daring scheme in . operation. The whistle of the bo'son's math was heard on board of the Englishman, and the cry of "Away there, boarders, away!" told their oppo nents how to expect them. Buntline cast a quick and anxious glance, upon his own seamen, who stood grasping their cutlasses with an emotion as intense as his 0wn...1t was a moment of fearful ex citement on board of either vessel, during which nothing was heard but the ripple of the water as they sped along. At length the dark shadow of the Britton's canvass fell upon the deck of the Ro ver, another minute, and they were yard-arm and yard-arm. "Sheer to!" whispered Buntline to the man at the wheel—"sheer to!" Tho bows of the privateer. slightly deviated, and her antagonist was within three yanlk of her. Clank went the grapples of the Englishman, and both vessels were brought broad side and broadside. •'Board!" shouted the British captain; and two thirds of his crew sprang over the bulwarks, and upon the tiecks of the Rover, without the slightest opposition. Buntline gave one glance to the dark forms of the foemon that crowded his forecastle and applying the trumpet to his mouth, thundered forth tho word "Liberty!" In an instant, the Americans,who had gathered about the main -mast, leaped upon the hammocks and ncttings, and sprang like so many cats upon the deck and in the rigging of the Englishman. Like a torrent they swept away the few who had remained on board of her; and now, ranging themselves along the bul works, they prepared to repel the enemy as they attempted to regain their own ship. "Cast off the grappelst" shouted Buntline; and that loud order awoke the Brittons from the'stupor of amazement in which they were thrown by the sudden and singular movement of their opponents. They mounted the bulwarks, and endeavored to regain their own vessel; but they were every where met by opposing cutlasses, In vain they pressed —in vain they thronged; they were every whore driven back upon the Rover's decks, or pushed in to the sea. They rushed frantically forward, but heir hopes were baseless; they might as well have attempted to force a wall of iron, as to beat back that rank of heroes. Some of their opponents had seized a hugh spar, and were pushing the two ves- sets apart. They separated—they were yards a sunder—and the unscathed English brig, with her Yankee crew, forged ahead, leaving the shattered, karibless bulk of tho Rover in possession of a bun dug distracted Britons! Three of the wildest hums that ever yet rang upon a startled ocean, burst from the Fps of the line's manoeuvre prevented his vessel from being raked by his adversary's fire, it could not prevent its entire destruction; and to his sorrow ho beheld hie main-top-mast, with its attendant spars, go by the board. A deep shade settled upon hie brow, at this unexpected calamity,and the blank of doubt and uncertainty grew upon his features. The success of the Englishman's broadside had com pletely destroyed his plan of operahon,and hestood upon the quarter-deck of his crippled ship,in pain ful reflection as to his future course. This sus pense was but momentary; a thought dawned up on his mind—and applying the trumpet to his mouth, he gave the order to the impatient seamen not to. fire, but to be ready for making more sail. "Leave your quarters, men," said he; "put your helm up, Bobstay—man the fore-tack and sheets —lay aloft, topmen, and clear the wreck. Sti yourselves, my liveliest stand by to act both fore topmast studding-sails." This sudden and unlooked for change in the state of afillint, surprised but did not disconcert the crew, so great was the confidence they reposed in him; and they sprang forward to execute hie ctrdera with an alacrity that was itself, under such circum stances, a proud culogium upon the bravery and judgment of their commander. The brig was again put before the wind, more canvass was spread a long the booms, and the Rover once more resum ed the course she had steered during the morning. A wild and exulting huzza came down from the Englishman, as her antagonist filled away and made sail, without firing a gun; but the scornful smile that curled the lips of Buntline indicated too well the deception of appearances, and imparted a stronger confidence in the breasts of his seamen. His character for bravery was too well established to be doubted by them, and they only stood impa tient to hear the next order that should issue from his trumpet. . "The dogs shall have less cause for merriment before nightfall," muttered Buntline, as another shout came down from the Englishman, who had also filled away, and was now crowding all sail in chase. "Muster aft here, my men; tumble aft here,every ono of you; come down from aloft, and up from below; bo'son's mate, send the people aft." "My lads," said Buntline, addressing his hun dred bold followers, "it is fit that you should be acquainted with the fact of my being the bearer of a message from the French admiral of the West India station, to the government of the United States, which, my men, is of vital importance to the interest of our country. Ido not tell you this, to stimulate you to any greater exertion, but merely as a reciprocation of that confidence which I am proud to believe you repose in me. I know you will stand by me to the last—l have tested it. In the present disabled state of the Rover, it will be impossible to escape from yonder squadron, now rapidly overhauling us; but, my lads, I have a plan to propose, the successful execution of which will crown us with glory and success. Listen to it." The plan was then revealed;nd when Bunt-. the a . the had done speaiing, three hearty cheers evin ced the readiness with which the crew entered in to it. victorious American; as the star-spangled banner unfolded itself from the peak of their prize; then pile after pile of canvass rose upon her tapering spars; and when the sun that night sought its ocean bed, a wide waste of blue water rolled be tween the stately prize of the Americans, and the shattered wreck of their once gallant privateer. WaT,11342W0 The Carrier's efddress TO THE PATRONS OP THE STAR & REPUBLICAN BANNER A JANUARY 2, 1.R37. Mir very pntrons all, - -.l l 4g 4 come toe you warning, 't (For fear yolnitould not find it out) • • at this ie New Year's morning. • What thoughts crowd on the busy brain, ' What memories of the past! When, from the New Year's threshold, we Look back'uptin the past.--- What hopes and fears, what joys and cares On Time's resimtless wave Have hurried to one common bourne In that promiscuous grave! The silver locks of hoary ago And youth's elastic tread Proving one common lot, now share The slumbers of the dead! And manhood's pride, and virtue's grace And Beauty's radiant bloom, Have proved all impotent to stay Their progress to the tomb! - And many a high, ambitious hope And many aspiring schemes Like unsubstantial pageantries, Like shadows seen in dreams, Have flitted o'er life's varied disc, Tho phantoms of the mind; Then fled—and, like a vision gone, Left not a wreck behind! Yet mortals still will madly run The busy round of earn, • Pursuing phantoms which, when grasp'd Dissolve away in air— And still new plans, ambitious hopes, And expectations 'rut, They cherish for the coming year, Forgetful of the past. And like gny bubbles, whilst they float On Time's o'er hurrying stream, Of care and disappointed hopes, How seldom do they dream! But soon is heard the whirling blast, The fitful tempest's moan, And that gny bubble's painted pride, Where is it!—lt is gone! That you, kind friends, may never prove The pings .of viither'il joy, Or blasted hopes, devoutly prays Tho humble Carrier Boy. But may each year's succeeding change New joy and peace mibrcl; And you, in full fruition reap Virtue's own rich reward! But, lest perchance my sober strain Should tire your patience, know That all this moral lecture's but A kind of prelude to The last and Most important part of this address—to wit: The Postscript! Here it is! And I conclude by expressing my earnest hope that none of you Will treat with scorn my unpretending lay, But do your best to cheer mo on my way, By kindly giving me,poor wandering Devil,* A little of the shining ROOT OF EVIL I TUE CARRIER. ! Query—Printor's Devil. OUR BETTER NATURE. BY PROFESSOR DEWF. The very words of condemnation which we apply to sin are words of comparison.— When we describe the act of the tranegres• sor as mean, for instance, we recognise, I repeat, the nobility of his nature; and when we say that his offence is a degradation, we imply a certain distinction. And so to do wrong,implies a noble power—the very pow. er which constitutes the glory of heaven— the power to do right. And thus it is, as I apprehend, that the inspired teachers speak of the wickedness and unworthiness of man. They seem to do it under a sense of his bet tercapacities and higher distinction. They speak as if he had wronged himself: and when they use the words ruin and perdition, they announce in affecting terms the worth of that which is reprobate and lost. Paul, when speaking of his transgressions, says, "Not I, but the sin that dwelleth in me." There There was a better nature in him, that re• sisted evil, though it did not always success fully resist. And we , read of the prodigal son—in-.terms which !Hive always seemed to me of the most affecting import—that when he came to the sense of his duty, he "came—to himself." Yes, the sinner is beside himself' and there is no peace, no re conciliation of his conduct to his nature, till he returns from his evil ways. Shall we not say, then,tha: his nature demands virtue and rectitude to satisfy it? —.O: THE SECRET.--'Mother,' said a fine look ing girl of ten years of age, want to know the secret of your going away alone every night and morning? 'Why, my child?'— 'Because, I think it must - be to see some one you love very much.' And what in- duces you to think sot' Because I have always noticed that when you come back, you appear to be more happy than usual.' .Welt, suppose Ido go to see a friend love much, and atter seeing him and con versing with- him I am more happy then lwfore, why should , you wish to know any thing about ifl"Because I wish to do as you do, that I may be happy also.' 'Wall, my child, when I leave on the morning and evening it:is to see my blessed Saviour. I go to pray to him, I ask him for his grace to make me happy and holy—l ask him tolls cast me in all the duties of the day—and es pecially to keep MO from committing sin against him—and above all, I ask him to have mercy upon our souls, and to save you from the ruin of those who go down to hell.' 'Of is that the secret,' said the .child, "then I must go With you. —~:o:-- Germs vs. LABOR.—"Of what use is all your studying and your books?" said an hon est farmer to an ingenious artist, "they don't make the corn grow, nor produce vegetables for market. My Sam does more good with his plough in one month, than you can do with your books and papers in one year." "What plough does your son use?" said the 'trust quietly. "Why he JSCII 's plough,to be sure. He can do nothing with any other. By, useing this plough, we save half the laboter, and raise three timeitts much as the old wooden concern. The artist, quietly again, turned over one of his sheets, and showed the farmer a drawing of the-lauded plough, saying, •'I am the inventer of your favourite plough, and my name is -I) The astonished farmer shook the artist heartily by the hand, and invited him to call at the farm house and make it his home as long as he liked. ( E'MMEi , SIEII,YIOI:OO Qll2).2,Aralßelet Delivered before the Fairfield (Milleistown) Tem perance Society, on Monday the 26th of • December, 1936: BY THE REV. SAIIIITEL R. FISHER. [Published at the request of the Society I MAti has been destined by his Maker to be, in a great measure,the creator of his own happiness. He has it in his power to do much towards determining the circumstan ces in which he shall be placed; and upon the nature of these it depends, whether his existence shall prove to him a source of hap piness, or a source of misery. In view. of this fact, it is a delightful consideration,that we are not only fully capacitated for the faithful discharge of (tie important duty of providing for our own welfare, but are also in the full and free possossion of all those means arid privileges ' which are necessary to enable us to attend to this dut) properly. "We can each one sit down under our own vine and fig-tree, without nay to molest• us, or make us afraid." Or we can assemble ourselves in perfect peace, as we have done thiaday, whenever i proper attention to our interests requires it,and can deliberate calm ly and undisturbed upon the things which intimately concern our welfare, and adopt such plans and enter upon such measures, as may be deemed necessary to secure our individual and united happiness. Theso,my friends, are privileges, which we cannot too, highly prize, and for which we cannot feel too grateful. We should, therefore, guard them with a most sacred jealousy,and s'rive to improve them to the best possible advan tage. If we fail to do so, we shall prove faithless to our important trust, and recreant to our best interests. These remarks may serve to illustrate the propriety ofassombling ourselves togeth. er on the present occasion. A powerful and deadly enemy to our happiness is abroad in the land. He has been making dreadful ravages on our right hand and on our left.— Many of our dearest friends have fallen vic tims to his ensnaring and destructive devices, and many thousands more.are in danger of being involved in a similar fate. He is characterized by all the cunning and per severenco, which distinguish the fiendish beings of the pit, and, unless opposed in his career by active and vigorous measures, he will eventually succeed in hie designs to in volve us all in a complete overthrow.— Thanks be to our divine protector, this in. . _ sidious and deadly foe, has not been permit ted to pursue his destructive career hitherto, altogether without molestation. The friends of our race, the lovers ofour peace and hap piness, have, some time ago, discovered his base designs, and have been exerting them. selves to prevent their accomplishment.— True in their devotion to the interests of the human family, they have sounded the alarm, and have striven to excite a general opposi. Lion to the common foe- Through the in strumentality of their exertions, something has been done to stay his career of carnage and blood, but much yet remains to be done to secure his final overthrow. It becomes all who cherish the least interest in the wel. fare of mankind, "to come up to the - help of the Lord against the mighty" in this work, and by their united and vigorous efforts, to push forward the common cause of humani ty.. We have met, this day, for the praise worthy purpose of attending to this impor tant duty. Our civil, social, and religious interests are in danger, and these must be preserved. The great foe to our peace is the demon of Intemperance. Against him, the friends of humanity, have proclaimed an exterminating war, and the express object of this assembly is "to beat up for volun• teers" in this important enterprize.. We shall, therefore, have occasion to address ourselves to the philanthropist, the patriot, and the chrietian, and from them all, we hope to,receive that indulgence and atten tion, which the justness and the greatness of our cause merit. What arguments shall we employ to ex- cite in you a hatred, and opposition to the common foe? Shrill \ w - 6 . describe to you the dreadful Tavageir )at.'.tias - made, and thus elicit your-ifithieliV behalf of his vic firma, end fir© your taraiti.s with implacable wrath against him? These have often been fo you "in thoughts that breathe [VOL. 41. and words that burn," and it requires but little observation to discover them exemplie. feed in all their extent and wretchedness. 7 7- You have ofti".n had depicted to you in glow. lug colors, the Iteart-rendering scenes which enemy occasions. The • broken heart. 'ed wile,tand the beggpred and disgraced children! The emaciated body, and the ruined intellect; the waste of property; the torrent of crime; the lon of character and credit; and above all, the destruction of the immortal soul, have alt been pointed out to you, as the legitimate results• of hi* depre dations, and have been forced upon you at»; tention with a power which could net be resisted. You, cannot be ignorant of the great ruin which this enemy creates; a flood of light, in relation to it, has been ponied upon you from every side, and to adrnit r its_ rays, you needed only to open your eyes..-;=- It is presumed that noneare so far behind the advancement of the present age, as to jie still inionsible to the evils of intem perance. It would, therefore, be a work of supererogation in us, to spend our time and breath, in endeavoring to depict them; to you. All that we shall do is, to ask you to strive to depict them to your owirminds, and then to fix yourqattention steadfastly upon diem until you shall have become lea. pressed with so deep a sense of their greet, neas, as will give you no rest until you shall have done all in your power to effect• their removal. , Although all persons admit the ,evils of intemperance, and seem desirous to have. them removed, yet they disagree about the precise method by which to : accomplish this object. The necessity of the warfare against the common enemy, seems to be , generally felt,:but the particular mode of car rying it on, is the matter about which a dif ference of opinion is . entertained. Whilst some are for making but partial and gradual in-roads upon the enemy's dominions, which they deem the most succesful method, of of carrying on the warefare, others are for effecting his immediate, and utter destruc tion, by striking at the very foundation upon which all his means for depredation rest.-- Thewarefare of the former is a warefare of compromise, but the warefareof the latter is a warfare of extermination. -It it our purpose to advocate the system of means pursued by the which has convened us together..• Her weapon 3 of warfare are altogether,moral in their nature. It is the powerful induence of example, upon'which she builds her hopes ofsuccese The bread principle upon which she proceeds, is, "to* tal abstinence from all that intoxieates."--. Her motto is,"touch not, taste not, ban dli3 not. " he wishes to make no corn. premien with the. enemy. His utter. truction is the object of her aim. Nothing short of this, in her estimation; will provide any.security against his depredations, and it is the acting out of her principle ,only which will secure this great object. Phis society proceeds upon the' principle of total abstinence, begun° no ardent Spirits, however small.the quantity, is necessary to our health and happiness. This sentiment has been ceefirmed by the united testimony of many of our most distinguished -Phy sicians. It has also been exemplified in the experience of many in every age of the world. By examining the records of his tory, we find that men were less lialo to disease in those ages, in which intoxicating liquors' were unknown, than in those, in which they have become a common article of consumption!. And in the present age, those who abstain entirely from them en joy much better health, and can endure more heat or cold,and fatigue,than those Who indulge in their use. These facts,whic too plain to be resisted, one •should t ought to be sufficrent to convince every - ono • that ardent spirits are entirely unnecessary to health and happiness. ,• Again, this Society proceeds upon the `4l: principle of total abstinence, • because ardent • '< spirits are not only unnecessary, hut itbao. lutely injurious to health and liaminess.-,-- The smallest quantity of them Alien into • the system, is productive of evil. They are a slow but sure pioson. They requirelinw., , but they will in the end effectually accoui r plish their object. They are highly etinn• Want in their effects. The least qutimity of them taken into the system, produeee", excitement, which is followed by a relaxer. tion by no means favorable to health,and this alternate excitement and relaxatioe,if oft re peated, destroys the healthful tone 'of the system, and renders it liable to disewie of every description. Physicians of eminence and character have advocated this eenti- merit, and in perfect accordance with it,have abandoned the use of ardent spirits alto. gather in their practice. But this society proceeds upon the prin ciple of total abstinence, not only for the reasons already mentioned, but especially because it is the only principle upon. which she can proceed with the hope of proving effectual in the accomplishment of her ob ject. Bo long as there is the least badul gence in the use of ardent spirits permitted, the enemy is still in posseston of the means by which he carries on his work of destruc. lion. No temperate, drinker is secure a gainst the evils of intemperance. Every such person, how moderate soever,,he may be in his daughts, is in danger of becoming a drunkard. • The habit of intemperance is not fornied at once. No man has ever been made a drunkard in a day. It is the-work - o(6m. The habit of intemperance comes upon its victim by degrees, yet with cei; tainty. Before danger is apprehended,• the destroyer has already caused hts fangs to enter the vitals of his prey. There is no security against the evils of intempenutect but in total abstinence. No other means for their removal than this, will be attuatai with success. Many others have bees t riedt
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