Murder- On Sunday last we had a melancholy comment on the evils of intemperance and Sabbath breaking. George Chapman a tailor by trade, had a quarrel with Daniel Wright, labourer [sic] (both excessively intemperate drinkers,) and happening to meet about the middle of the day at Nares', just over the line between this village and Fayette, in Seneca County, they 'talked it over' and were apparently reconciled. According to a vulgar custom, however, they must ratify their treaty of amity over a bottle of whiskey, and here the smothered flame of resentment again burst forth. Chapman swore he would kill Wright. To escape danger Wright went into the granary and lay down on the oat bin. Chapman followed a while afterwards, seized a spade, and repeated the threat. Wright attempted to get up, but received a blow on the head which prostrated him, and which was followed by others in quick succession. Chapman went to the house avowed what he had done and was taken into custody. Wright died about an hour afterwards. After the frenzy of the liquor subsided the mind of the wretched murder awakened to a sense of the horrid deed he had perpetrated and to the inevitable doom which awaits him. - Geneva Gaz.
A young man by the name of John Cox, a seaman, on board the ship Constitution, has received $40 for his grog money, and I have been credibly informed that he has not drank any liquor on board the ship.-
From the New York Observer
THE DRUNKARD IS CAST OFF.
It was nearly 5 o'clock when I reached the Pier at Albany. The broad flag of the steamboat was gloating in breeze, and passengers were pressing on board. The signal for starting was given. A few were pushing through the crowd of spectators. Among the rest, a man of decent appearance and in good apparel, crowded to the plank, and staggered upon the deck. He was half drunk and was ordered to leave the boat, ' immediately helped off by 2 men. He begged hard for a passage to N. York, offering money. It was all in vain- he was drunk, and should not go.
I stood by the gang-way. He reached me a small roll of bank bills, saying, 'I will give you $50, if you will take me to New-York,' I refused telling him to put his money in his pocet [sic]. He still persisted, and stretched out his hand with the money as the boat slowly moved from the dock.- He was held from falling by strangers in whom he still offered money for his passage. The boat moved swiftly down the stream, and I saw no more of him.--Probably he reached some resting place, will waking from his dream he found himself moneyless.
The scene made a deep impression on my mind, I thought:
1. The drunkard is despised and his company rejected, even by temperate drinkers.- He is welcome only in the grocery or dram-shop and by those made delirious with the poisonous draught.
2. The drunkard destroys his property.- In his derangement he offers all his money to strangers for trifles.- Perhaps he has a wife and children in want and distress. Perhaps for want of this very money his goods may be seized, and his estate ruined forever.
3. The drunkard is rendered incapable of examining the truth, consequently cannot know the word of God. His senses are blunted-his affections are destroyed-his mind is deranged, he renders his life a scene of sinking brutality; at last he may wish for a conveyance to the heavenly world, and offer all that he has for the favor. But alas! he is deranged- he offers to, he knows not whom- he is rejected, and his soul is cast off forever.
Volume 1, ATOR.