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 EEADINGS AND RECITATIONS. 
 
/ 
 
 SPENCE'S 
 
 SELECTIONS. 
 
 Eeadings and Recitations. 
 
 ESPECIALLY ADAPTED FOR 
 
 TEMPERANCE WORKERS 
 
 AND 
 
 SOCIAL GATHERINGS. 
 
 EDITED BY 
 
 JACOB SPENCE, 
 
 SECRETARY TEMPERANCE AND PROHIBITORY LEAQUE. 
 
 TORONTO : 
 BELFORD BROTHERS, I'UBLISHERS. 
 
Entered according to the Act of Parliament of Canada^ in the year 
 one thousand eight hundred and seventy-six^ by BelforD 
 Brothers, in the office of the Minister of Agriculture, 
 
 TOROMTO J 
 
 Williams, Slsrtii & MacMillan, PRmTBRtt, 
 
 BAY 8TRE8T. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Points for Prohibition Advocates 17 
 
 The Consistent Course 21 
 
 Laws to Protect Evil 23 
 
 Our Real Enemy 24 
 
 Waiting for Prohibition Law 25 
 
 A Brewer's Testimony 27 
 
 Suggested Report 28 
 
 The Voice of Alcohol 28 
 
 The Dying Drunkard 31 
 
 Moderate Drinking — The Worst 31 
 
 The Demon is Forth 35 
 
 The Wo-.st of Wives 37 
 
 The Losings Bank 39 
 
 The Drink ! The Drink ! 41 
 
 Mr. 7 ipple None 42 
 
 The ^Ljandlady's Conviction 44 
 
 Confession of a Victim 47 
 
 Caradian Youth 49 
 
 A Citizen of Drunkdom 50 
 
 Worse and Worse 51 
 
 Who is with us 52 
 
 Indictment of the Liquor Traffic 53 
 
 Common Sense Quarter Sessions 55 
 
 Terse Temperance Truths 61 
 
 The Styles of Drunkenness 64 
 
 Sign if you Dare ! 66 
 
 History of a Distillery 70 
 
 Wesley on the Traffic, &c 7 1 
 
 Thrilling Incident 72 
 
 Another Dying Man 73 
 
 The Five Cradles ,, 73 
 
 This Hard Lump ! 74 
 
 Try, John! Try , 75 
 
 Work without Beer 76 
 
 Sanctifi cation and Prohibition 77 
 
 Pests and Purifications 79 
 
 Organizations and Acts 80 
 
 Strength of Alcohol 82 
 
 The Landlord's Vow , 83 
 
 Carnage of the Traffic 86 
 
«t 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Death of Alexander 87 
 
 Protect not the Enemy 88 
 
 A Poor Inebriate 88 
 
 Water — Description 89 
 
 Water ! Oh ! Water for me 91 
 
 The Song of the River 92 
 
 The Blacksmith 92 
 
 The Lost Day 93 
 
 The Last Appeal 94 
 
 Clear the Way 95 
 
 Make your Mark 96 
 
 John Grey's Increase of Property 97 
 
 Adam's Fall 
 
 Divulging the Secret 
 
 Raising the Wind 
 
 Jim Robinson's Club 
 
 Calf Logic 
 
 Jimmie Davis 
 
 Love, Liquor and Law 
 
 Pat's Pavers , . . . . 
 
 The Clergyman and the Widow 
 
 The Lawyers and the Cats 
 
 Disturbing 
 
 Poetic Opinions 
 
 The House-Top Saint 
 
 A Sleigh Ride in Muskoka 
 
 Instruction 
 
 Passing Away 
 
 Laughter 
 
 Smile when you Can 
 
 The Afflicted Man's Companion 
 
 Brother Green's Call 
 
 Johnny's Pledge 
 
 The Boy's Reasons and Resolves 
 
 Bad Excuses 
 
 Sober Test 
 
 Tares 
 
 Arouse ! 
 
 Exercising Discipline. . . . 
 Doctor, Strike the Root, 
 Questions for Discussion. 
 
 OS 
 07 
 
 10 
 12 
 
 13 
 
 14 
 21 
 
 28 
 
 28 
 
 31 
 
 34 
 35 
 37 
 
 43 
 46 
 
 47 
 49 
 SO 
 SI 
 S3 
 5S 
 56 
 56 
 56 
 
 57 
 
 S8 
 60 
 
 61 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 While many books are extant under the names of Reciters, 
 Readers, Speakers, &c., a very general complaint yet prevails 
 as to the want of one more fully adapted for Temperance 
 Workers, Social Parties, &c. This want it has been the aim 
 here to supply. With what success, that High Court, the 
 Public, must be allowed to determine. 
 
 A good proportion of the pieces here published are 
 original, and they have all been carefully selected. 
 
 JACOB SPENCE. 
 
READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 
 
 POINTS FOR PROHIBITION ADVOCATES. 
 
 There are some essential points of primary importance that 
 form the main and solid ground-work upon which our argu- 
 ments must be built, if we mean to secure the triumphant 
 success of our movement. 
 
 The first and most vital point — the fundamental fact is, 
 that alcohol is a poison. This is now, in science, a positive 
 and settled fact, susceptible of vigorous demonstration. No 
 man who values a decent reputation in any of the walks of 
 # science dare deny this indubitable fact, that alcohol is a 
 powerful poison. It is as surely a poison as henbane, i)russic 
 acid, strychnine, or arsenic. If alcohol is not a poison, 
 neither are any of the substances named. If alcohol is not 
 a poison, there is no such thing as poison. There is no 
 true and proper scientific or popular definition of poison that 
 does not include alcohol. Alcohol and poison are synony- 
 mous terms. We do not now stay to prove this by proper 
 tests, experiments, or authorities, we merely state it as a fact, 
 proved and demonstrated. 
 
 As Temperance Advocates we need never fear making 
 this statement before any audience, however learned ; the 
 more enlightened the audience the more appreciative will be 
 the response. No intelligent, honest man will dare now-a- 
 days to deny that alcohol is a poison. Then let us not 
 shrink from this primary position, but boldly assert this 
 fundamental fact. 
 
 We cannot state it too plainly. We cannot repeat it too 
 frequently; nor can we lay too much stress on it. It is 
 a fulcrum fact upon which our logical leverage of argumenta- 
 tion and appeal must rest ; and we cannot, we must not, we 
 will not allow it to be ignored or controverted with impunity. 
 
■' 
 
 U I , 
 
 
 18 
 
 READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 
 
 Alcohol is not only a poison in a scientific sense but in a practical 
 and matter-of-fact sense, killing its tens of thousands annually, 
 and deteriorating the constitutions of millions more, so that the 
 physical basis of life is being fearfully deteriorated and weak- 
 ened. To the more thoughtful mind this latter fact is of vaster 
 importance and of more terrible significance than the other 
 fact, appalling as it is to contemplate the annual sacrifice 
 of some thousands of cur fellow-beings ; but we could better 
 afford to lose a million of lives yearly, cut off by the sword or 
 bullet, than we can afford to allow this fearful physical 
 degeneration positively tending towards that irreparable and 
 inexpressible calamity — the utter ruin and destruction of the 
 race. It is but seldom that our advocates, either in writing 
 or in speaking, take this broader and profounder view of the 
 evils resulting from the use of alcoholic beverages. It is so 
 much easier for us to fix the mind upon, and call public 
 attention to, the more superficial and casual effects of drinl# 
 ing — the police statistics of drunkenness, street fights, wife 
 beatings, suicides, murders, and insanities connected with 
 and resulting from the use of this fearful brain poison. We 
 are too apt to think — and, perhaps, the public mind is 
 scarcely capable of comprehending more — that the evil, the 
 Avreck, the ruin caused by alcohol, ends with the individuals, 
 or the families directly involved in habits of drunkenness 
 ?.nd debaucher}'. 
 
 There are some, however, who take a little wider view, and 
 who can comprehend that great and grave social evils flow 
 from the drinking system, such as pauperism, i)rostitution, 
 lunacy, and crime, with untabulated suffering and degradation 
 of every kind, causing increased taxation, and greatly 
 neutralising all the efforts of philanthropic zeal and religious 
 activity. But there are few, it is to be feared, who have 
 clear insight and foresight sufficient to rise to anything like an 
 adequate conception or appreciation of the terrible and soul- 
 revolting reality involved in the paralysing and corrupting in- 
 fluence of these i)oisons, by no mere hyperbole or figure of 
 speech, but in sad reality, and tliat unless we ])ut away from 
 us this "abomination of desolation," in tlio very nature of 
 tilings, it is not possible for any i)eoi)le to continue in a 
 
POINTS FOR PROHIBITION ADVOCATES. 
 
 19 
 
 physically corrupt course of conduct, without tending towards 
 and ultimately becoming morally, socially, and ])hysically 
 corrupt even to rottenness, wreck, and ruin ! What strong 
 drink does to its individual devotees and slaves in the course 
 of a few years, it will also assuredly do to a people who cling 
 to it, generation after generation. " Be not deceived ; God 
 is not mocked ; for whatsoever a man soweth that shall he 
 also reap." This is as true of a people given up to vicious 
 habits as of the person. 
 
 Our next point is — That the traffic in intoxicating liquors 
 is a social crime. If the first jjoint is settled, " that alcohol is 
 a poison," that it is destructive of human life, destructive of 
 the physical stamina of the race, producing social and 
 national multiplied evils, it follows, by inevitable sequence, 
 that to traffic in such a known ciuse of demoralization and 
 destruction is one of the most gigantic of crimes. It is a 
 crime alike against the great Creator, the gracious Redeemer, 
 and against a common humanity. Lik(^ the cruel crime of 
 slavery, though in some of its features and consequences 
 even more terrible and ruinous, it may be aptly termed " the 
 sum of all villianies." Let it not be said that the liquor 
 traffic, being legalized, it thereby becomes a legitimate and 
 moral avocation. The very fact that it is protected by law 
 rather enhances the criminal character of the system. 
 
 Who would assert that any other form of murder, of 
 robbery, and of social corrujition would be moral and honorable 
 in the eye of reason and of the (lod of Holiness by being 
 brought under the shield and sanction of a man-made law? 
 When slavery was sanctioned by liritish law was it a moral, 
 righteous system ? When lotteries were lawful and carried 
 on by a so-called ('hristian state for revenue, were they moral, 
 were they righteous institutions? If gambling hells, &:c., 
 were licensed and regulated, would that make them moral? 
 If brigandage was recognized anil regulated by act of j)arlia- 
 ment, would that condone its ini(|uity? Is not Thugism 
 a system of robbery and murder? could any legislation 
 alter its character? even if all the parliaments of Christendom 
 were to legalize and i)rotcct it I Are ol)scene pictures and 
 licentious literature, thief training, (^c, capable of being 
 
20 
 
 READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 
 
 J 
 
 made respectable and righteous by act of Parliament, even 
 were it so framed that the government would secure to itself 
 a large proportion of the plunder and wages of iniquity? To 
 ask such (questions at the bar of common sense is to answer 
 them. The answer can only be one of emphatic repudiation 
 and condemnation. On the same ground, then, of manifest, 
 inherent and inevitable iniquity, we pronounce the liquor 
 traffic a social crime and curse more vile, more corrupting, 
 and more ruinous than all other known crimes put together. 
 Our statesmen know the infamous and immoral character of 
 this traffic ; and were it not for the immense share of the 
 plunder that comes into the Government coffers no Christian, 
 no civilized State, would allow such traffic to exist, and make 
 no earnest effort to suppress it. 
 
 The slaughter of so many thousands year by year, and the 
 degradation yearly of many thousands more to fill up the 
 places of those who pass on to the drunkard's doom, are 
 facts that convert our apathy and all our peddling attempts 
 at regulation into the most shocking of crimes. It matters not 
 to our argument whether the traffic is financially/r^/rt/V^or un- 
 profitable in the eye of political economy, whether it is popu- 
 lar or unpopular, whether it is (in a party sense) politic or im- 
 politic — // is immoral and criminal. It is so immoral and so 
 criminal that no legal sanction can render it right, or make 
 it moral. It is i:u^ meanest, the vilest, and most cruel system 
 of iniquity ever invented. A slaveholder might be humane, 
 a brigand might be chivalrous, a gambler might be honorable, 
 and even a drunkard might be affectionate; but a dram- 
 seller, unless he is an idiot and unconscious of what he is 
 doing, must be a self-condemned criminal. Nothing but 
 amazing ignorance and stu})idity can cover the moral ulcers 
 of the character of that man who gets his living and tries to 
 amass a fortune by dealing out to his fellow-men that which 
 he knows to be a brain poison, and which he knows is filling 
 homes with misery and the whole land with wailing and 
 desolation. 
 
 We fear to call "a sjiade a spade." I.ct us be fearlessly 
 honest to our deepest convictions of truth and duty. Let us 
 not speak of alcohol as a " stimulant," as an article of 
 
THE CONSISTENT COURSE. 
 
 21 
 
 "refreshment," or of "diet," wliich weak pcojjle abuse. Call 
 it by its proper names— a "mocker," a "poison," a "devil." 
 Solomon and Shakespeare — the voice of history and the 
 verdict of science, will sustain us, both in letter and spirit. 
 
 So of the liquor traffic ! T.et us never think of it or speak 
 of it as an honorable mercantile exchange of eiiuivalents. 
 It is nothing of the kind. It is a wretched system of 
 temptation and corruption— it is in reality robbery and 
 murder ! As John Wesley declared : " They [the liquor 
 dealers] murder by wholesale. * * Neither does their 
 eye pity or spare." The traffic most incontrovertibly contains 
 all the condemnable (jualities that deserve at least to be 
 placed under the condemnation of the law of every Christian 
 commonwealth. 
 
 THE CONSISTENT COURSE. 
 
 We have two connected great duties before us. Total 
 abstinence is our personal^ and total prohibition our social 
 duty. Some take up but one ])ortion and some take up the 
 other. Hence we have had the anomalous fact of men who 
 were advocates of total abstinence but not of prohibition, and 
 even the still more singular fact of men who were advocates 
 of men who professed to be prohibitionists, but while they 
 faced one way moved in the other direction. But there is 
 no solid reason, no strong motive, no fact, in favor of total 
 abstinence that is not in fiivor of ])rohil)ition ; or in favor 
 of prohibition that is not also as forcibly in favor of total 
 abstinence. 
 
 Exi)erience has demonstrated that no temperance refor- 
 mation can be wrought out ui)on any expedient of a mere 
 limitation of drinking, as to ([uantity, or as to potency. The 
 most moderate use of the mildest intoxicants affords no basis 
 for efficient action, either to reform the drunkard, or to i)re- 
 vent the young from becoming inebriates. We have therefore 
 been driven by the logic of facts, to adopt the |)rin(iple of 
 total abstinence as the basis of all true temperance advocacy. 
 
I 
 
 ! 
 
 I 
 
 n 
 
 22 
 
 READINGS AND RECttATlONS. 
 
 No one, in our days, has any lively faith in any efforts to 
 reform drunkards, or to train up " bands of hope" to habits 
 of steadfast sobriety, except those efforts are based upon and 
 enjoin total abstinence. vSo far, we have made solid pro- 
 gress, in harmony with the facts of science and the principles 
 of true morality. The word of God and the voice of science 
 speak alike to the enlightened conscience, and say, " Touch 
 not, taste not, handle not the unclean thing." " Abhor that 
 which is evil, and cleave to that which is good." "Have no 
 fellowship with the unfruitful works of darkness, but rather 
 reprove them." " Be sober." " Abstain from fleshly lust^s 
 that war against the soul." " Look not on the wine when it 
 is red." 
 
 But if personal abstinence is thus inculcated, and required 
 by the nature of alcohlic liquors, and by the dictates of 
 common sense, must we not, for the same reason, come to 
 the conclusiori, as an equal right and obligation, the prohi- 
 bition of the sale of liquor ? Can a man traffic in an article 
 that he himself conscientiously abstains from as a " poison," 
 a " mocker," a seducer, and a destroyer ? Of course he 
 cannot, and he dares not, if he desires to keep a " conscience 
 void of offence towards God and man." 
 
 A man who drinks strong drink himself, knowing its 
 poisonous and ruinous character, will not be likely to have a 
 very tender conscience against selling it to others ; but even 
 some of those men, who are engaged in the criminal employ- 
 ment of selling what Robert Hall designated " Hquid fire and 
 distilled damnation," do not wart their own children, or even 
 their neighbor's children, to be contaminated and destroyed 
 by contact with their own wicked and immoral avocation. 
 They will encourage their children to join the band of hope. 
 They know the damnable character of what Mr. Bright calls 
 the " drink demon" and the drink-dens. And yet there have 
 been those who ])reached up abstinence and bands of hope, 
 but who took no practical interest in any earnest effort to 
 suppresss the liquor traffic ! 
 
 By the persistent and ami)le discussion of all the bearings, 
 advocates, have of late come to a more distinct understanding 
 of these ([uestions. We know that nothing short of total ab- 
 
1,AVVS TO PROTECT EVIL. 
 
 23 
 
 stmence and total prohil)ition will meet the case ; that the 
 moderate use of liquor will lead on to intemperance by fatal 
 and inevitable fascination ; but all these mere amendments 
 of the licensing system, curtailing the hours of sale and 
 limiting the number of houses privileged to carry on the 
 pernicious trafiic in intoxicating liquors, cannot possibly 
 afford the basis of any satisfactory settlement of the question 
 at issue. The agitation in which we are engaged must go 
 forward, with increased force and resistless determination, 
 until it culminates in a complete victory. 
 
 Let us work on, in faith and hope, to hasten the realisation 
 of our hope and aim— a Sober Nation. 
 
 A golden age is drawing on, 
 Unlike the ages past and gone ; 
 And we must bravely fight it out 
 To bring this golden age about ; 
 Though it has long seemed far away, 
 'Tis drawing nearer every day. 
 
 LAWS TO PROTECT EVIL. 
 
 Dr. Albert Barnes, in his sermon, "The Throne of In- 
 iquity," says : — 
 
 I lay it down as a second principle in regard to legislation, 
 that society should not by its laws protect evil. This, per- 
 haps, is sufficiently clear from the remarks already made, but 
 the importance of the principle in itself, and in the applica- 
 tion which 1 intend to make of it, requires that it should be 
 made a little more distinct and prominent. The position is, 
 that the purpose of society in organising a government, and 
 the purpose of a government under such an organisation, 
 should not be to protect evil in any form. The law is made 
 " for the lawless and disobedient, for the ungodly and for 
 sinners, for unholy and profane," and not to protect vices, or 
 to protect anything which will give facility in i)ractising them. 
 The true object of legislation is to prevent^ not to protect 
 evil. 
 
m 
 
 H 
 
 READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 
 
 I ii'li 
 
 . 
 
 ! 
 
 • 1 
 
 ^i 
 
 God never instituted a government on earth with a view to 
 its throwing a protecting shield over vice and immorality. 
 He has never commissioned men to sit in high places to 
 accomplish any such work. The end of government, so far 
 as it bears on that point at z.\\, is to suppress crime, to punish 
 wrong doers, to remove iniquity, to promote that which is 
 just and true. And it matters not what the evil is, nor how 
 lucrative it may be made, nor how much capital may be in- 
 vested in it, nor how much revenue may be derived from it, 
 nor how many persons may have an interest in its continu- 
 ance — the business of the lawgiver is fo suppress it — not to 
 protect it ; to bring it to as speedy an e7id as possible — not 
 to become the panderer to it, or the patron of it. What 
 would be thought of a government that should, under any 
 pretext whatever, take under its protective care thieves, 
 counterfeiters, and burglars ? 
 
 A third principle in regard to legislation is equally clear, 
 and equally important. It is, that society should not under- 
 take to regulate evil by law. Its business- is to remove it — 
 not to regulate it. 
 
 [These two for one reading.] 
 
 OUR REAL ENEMY THE TYRANT LIQUOR TRADE 
 
 In Canada 4,000 slain (annually), 60,000 wounded. Arm ! 
 Arm ! How long will you lie prostrate under the tyranny 
 and ravages of the monster, strong drink ? Pause ! Con- 
 sider, parents ! Join the Temperance cause, and victory is 
 sure, without bloodshed or blighted homes. Crowds who 
 gather there, — hosts who 
 
 " Widen and strew with flowers the way to ruin." 
 
 Now look at the vast mass of our fellowmen who are found 
 there, amounting probably to one-twentieth of our whole 
 population ; and can you wonder that so many of you have 
 to say, " We have labored in vain, and spent our strength 
 for nought?" and that the youth of our country are growing 
 up in godlessness and sin. 
 
 What then is the path of duty? This state of things can 
 
WAITING FOR PROHIBITORY LAW. 
 
 25 
 
 a view to 
 
 be brought to an end as soon as the people will it. The 
 House of Commons is but the executive of the people, and 
 whenever they are agreed on any subject, their will must 
 become law. Let, then, the people of this country look at 
 this matter in its entirety, and for the sake of the children 
 entrusted to their care, as well as for the salvation of the 
 immense number whom the traffic in strong drink puts be- 
 yond their reach, band themselves together in a holy alliance 
 never to rest until this offence against God and man is 
 brought to an end. 
 
 Remember that we are responsible for the existence of 
 every evil which we have the power to remove, and also, that 
 though we may meet with opposition and scorn now, the day 
 is coming when every man who has fought the battle of the 
 Lord, and those only, will hear Him say, " Well done, good 
 and faithful servant." 
 
 WAITING FOR PROHIBITORY LAW. 
 
 Ladies and Gentlemen, — We are on the verge of a 
 new era, and we look forward to the future with hope as we 
 meet the responsibilities which devolve upon us. It will be 
 to us fraught with unspeakable blessings or with mischiefs, 
 great beyond the power of conception. Hitherto we have 
 had the educational influence of law against the cause of 
 righteousness, and in favor of influences which degrade, and 
 ruin, and blight, and curse our humanity. The consequence 
 has been that what we have attempted to do by our ethical 
 reasonings, by what is termed moral suasion, we have practi- 
 cally undone through our statutory enactments; and thus the 
 whole serie?^ of temperance efforts, from its incejition down 
 to this hour, has beer little more than the repetition of the 
 fable of Sisyphus : 
 
 " With many a weary step and many a groan. 
 Up the high hill he heaves a huge round stone. 
 The large round stone recoiling with a bound, 
 Thunders impetuous down and smokes along the ground." 
 
26 
 
 READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 
 
 
 
 '!i 
 
 We have become tired of this fruitless and more than fruit- 
 less toil, and we have incjuired with anxiety into the cause of 
 our failure, when our cause has been illustrated and defended 
 by the chicfest intellects of the land, we yet find our efforts 
 comparatively fruitless, and the answer of the reflective mind 
 is — the failure is caused by the educational influence of law. 
 It reaches where the power of the pulpit does not. 
 
 If it be asked, have we a right to a prohibitory law? We 
 reply, that we cannot conceive of a government divested of 
 such right — simply the right to protect its citizens. What 
 the people have made defectively, they can re-model and 
 amend, and if our fathers have bungled in this matter — and 
 I do not say that they have — but those who declare that they 
 have left us powerless to turn back this swelling tide of death 
 that oversweeps the land, bearing away all that is fair and 
 lovely and of good repute among them ; they are the ones 
 who libel the framers of the Constitution. If, I say, our 
 fathers so bungled their work as to defeat the very object for 
 which governments were established and Constitutions or-, 
 dained, let their sons amend their error ; and show to the 
 world that we are capable of government ; that we do not 
 worship a mere piece of parchment because our fathf^rs 
 made it ; but reverence it only as a revelation of the truth 
 found there, and God helping us, we wall eradicate and bring 
 the whole instrument into harmony w^ith everlasting law. I 
 tell you we have our hands on the throat of this devil, 
 Alcohol. But it is objected, that the law will be resisted. 
 I should wonder if it was not. I have observed no law of 
 either God or man that has not been resisted. It is not 
 a new thing for laws to be disobeyed, resisted, violated. 
 If the danger of law being violated is to be recounted 
 a reason for not enacting law, then where law is most 
 required this reason will be strongest. But does not 
 all experience confirm the fact that the law to suppress the 
 cause^ of the great proportion of transgression of all good 
 laws, would be the wisest and the most effectual legislation. 
 
han fruit- 
 
 '( 
 V 
 
 2 cause of 
 
 
 defended 
 
 
 •ur efforts 
 
 
 :ive mind 
 
 
 ;e of law. 
 
 
 iw? We 
 
 
 vested of 
 
 
 . What 
 
 
 odel and 
 
 
 :ter — and 
 
 
 that they 
 
 
 of death 
 
 
 fair and 
 
 
 the ones 
 
 -| 
 
 say, our 
 
 < 
 
 Dbject for 
 
 
 itions or-. 
 
 
 >w to the 
 
 i 
 
 e do not 
 
 1 
 
 ■j 
 
 ir fathers 
 
 
 the truth 
 
 'i 
 
 ind bring 
 
 i 
 
 f law. I 
 
 
 lis devil, 
 
 ^sl 
 
 resisted. 
 
 
 lo law of 
 
 n 
 
 It is not 
 
 i 
 
 violated. 
 
 
 ecounted 
 
 1 
 
 is most 
 
 
 ioes not 
 
 
 press the 
 
 il 
 
 all good 
 
 
 gislation. 
 
 '■1 
 
 A brfaver's testimony. 
 
 A BREWER'S TESTIMONY. 
 
 / 
 
 27 
 
 Not only does this vice produce all kinds of positive mis- 
 chief, but it also hap a negative effect of great imj)ortance. 
 It is the mightiest of all the forces that clog the progress of 
 good. It is in vain that every engine is set to work that 
 philanthropy can devise, when those whom we seek to bene- 
 fit are habitually tampering with their faculties of reason and 
 will — soaking their brains with beer, or inflaming them with 
 ardent spirits. The struggle of the school, and the library, 
 and the church, all united, against the beerhouse and the 
 gin palace is but one development of the war between 
 heaven and hell. It is, in short, intoxication that fills our 
 jails ; it is intoxication that fills our lunatic asylums ; and it 
 is intoxication that fills our workhouses with poor. Were it 
 not for this one cause, i)auperism would be nearly extin- 
 guished in England. * # * * 
 
 Looking, then, at the manifold and frightful evils that 
 spring from drunkenness, we think we were justified in say- 
 ing that it is the most dreadful of all the ills that afflict the 
 world. We are convinced that if a statesman who heartily 
 wished to do the utmost possible good to his country were 
 thoughtfully to enquire which of the topics of the day 
 deserved the most intense force of his attention, the true 
 reply — the reply which would be exacted by full deliberation 
 — would be, that he should study the means by which this 
 worst of plagues can be stayed. The intellectual, the moral, 
 and the religious welfare of our people, their material com- 
 forts, their domestic happiness, are all involved. The 
 question is, whether millions of our countrymen should be 
 helped to become happier and wiser — whether pauperism, 
 lunacy, disease, and crime, shall be diminished — whether 
 multitudes of men, women and children shall be aided 
 to escape utter ruin of body and soul ? Surely such 
 a question as this, enclosing within its limits consequences 
 so momentous, ought to be weighed with earnest thought by 
 all our patriots. — From Charles Buxtoti's Essay "How ro 
 STOP Drunkenness." (Partridge cSc Co., London.) 
 
I \ 
 
 I ill 
 
 I ! 
 
 lii 
 
 lilH 
 
 28 Readings and recitations. 
 
 [Foregoing and following one reading.] 
 SUGGESTED REPORT. 
 
 If it were possible for those eng^" n the manufacture 
 and sale of intoxicating drinks to re -L.cr an account of the 
 year's evil consequences directly produced by their use, — 
 the pauperism, the lunacy produced, the corn destroyed, 
 children deprived of education and food, the homes made 
 miserable, and the awful murders, and crimes of all kinds, 
 continually being committed ; if such an annual report were 
 possible to be produced, we should then have some adequate 
 idea of the evils with which temperance reformers have to 
 contend. 
 
 The time has come to speak out. This destruction of the 
 fruits of the earth, and the lives of the people, must not be 
 suffered. The drinking shops deluge the country with un- 
 told evils. The traffic inflicts upon us mourning, lamenta- 
 tion and woe. A trade producing such fruits is wicked and 
 immoral. The public are gaining light on this question, 
 and a strong opinion will be soon arrayed against it. Society 
 has a right to protect itself from such a curse. " The liquor 
 traffic must be put down." 
 
 THE VOICE OF ALCOHOL. 
 
 On whatsoever hearth my foot shall be firmly planted, the 
 gladsome fire shall go out, to be lighted no more forever ; 
 the roof-tree shall fall, the voices of children be hushed, all 
 that men cluster around them, to make their earthly homes 
 so much like heaven, shall vanish like a wreath of smoke, 
 and desolation brood over the ruins. I will point the son's 
 knife against the father, and his grey hairs shall drip with 
 gore. Where war and vengeance are, I will rouse their fury 
 to ten-fold rage, and blot from the soldier's breast the last 
 vestige of humanity. The incendiary's torch shall be my 
 banner; the crackling flames, and the shriek of murdered 
 innocence, the music of my march ! 
 
THE VOICE OF ALCOHOL. 
 
 29 
 
 nufacture 
 nt of the 
 ir use, — 
 estroyed, 
 les made 
 all kinds, 
 )ort were 
 adequate 
 > have to 
 
 on of the 
 St not be 
 with un- 
 lamenta- 
 cked and 
 question, 
 . Society 
 he liquor 
 
 nted, the 
 
 forever ; 
 
 ished, all 
 
 y homes 
 
 smoke, 
 
 he son's 
 
 irip with 
 
 heir fury 
 
 the last 
 
 be my 
 lurdered 
 
 ^ 
 
 .1 
 't 
 il 
 
 i 
 
 Pestilence shall follow me as a shadow ; and I will open 
 unto him the gates of a million dwellings which else had 
 been secure. I will spread famine and disease even in lands 
 of plenty and health, and will seal up the eyes of all my 
 victims, so that they shall not see nor know that their next 
 plunge is into perdition. I will sweep whole continents of 
 their inhabitants ; and give woes and sorrows and " wounds 
 without cause " to the whole race of man. Yet, whosoever 
 is wounded by me, shall seek me as hid treasures to be 
 wounded yet again. I will bind upon their brows the iron 
 crown of suffering, burning with hell fire, that shall scorch, 
 and sear, and eat into their brain and heart and soul, yet 
 they shall fall down and worship me, and, for my sake, ])art 
 with houses and lands, and wife and children, all earthly 
 good, and all hope of heaven. 
 
 Let Jehovah iend forth spirits, pure, to dwell in earthly 
 bodies ; I will seek them out, and kindle in their hearts an 
 unquenchable fire that shall consume them ; and the cheru- 
 bim shall watch long for their return to their Father in 
 Heaven. The student at his books, the mechanic at his 
 toils, the laborer at the plow, will I destroy, and none shall 
 stay me. I will coil myself in the brain of the sea-captain, 
 and seal up his eyes, and so distort them that he shall 
 know neither chart nor compass, and his vessel and all on 
 board shall be engulfed, and the bones of the mariners 
 whiten the bottom of the ocean. I will be the omnipresent 
 curse of humanity ; and under my guidance the race shall 
 walk forever as in the shadow of an eclipse. Eyes they 
 have but shall not see ; ears, but shall not hear ; or under- 
 stand the crooked paths through which I will lead them. 
 
 I will take the sons of the mighty men, and the great ones 
 of earth, and will mangle them with horrid wounds, strip 
 them of wealth, reputation, life itself, and fill their last hour 
 with torment. Around their dying couches I will send ser- 
 pent forms, unfolding coil after coil from out the darkness, 
 brandishing their forked tongues to sting them, and lick 
 their blood as a fierce flame licks up its fuel. Thoughts 
 shall become things, living things, to mock and curse them. 
 And some, in their agony, shall leap into this burning lake, 
 
30 
 
 READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 
 
 1 ■ 
 
 I ■ 
 
 1 1 
 
 1 '' 
 
 1 ' 
 
 ft ^ 
 
 I i 
 
 1 j 
 
 • ! 
 )( 1 
 
 
 in hopes to cscajie still greater torture ; and some will I 
 hold upon the brink, and rej )ice when I see every nerve 
 shrinking with agony, as I open to their startled gaze the 
 horrors of that pit in which I plunge them. 
 
 Yet, this is not all. I will so manage, that mankind shall 
 all along think me their friend ! Though it is my mission 
 to torture and destroy, yet so will I mix with their business, 
 their pleasures, and their daily habits ; so flatter and delude 
 their stupid senses, that they shall pronounce me a " good 
 creature," nay, a " creature of God ! " At the wedding 
 feasts I will be a source of joy ; and at the funeral gathering 
 the solace of their sorrow. The rank grass shall grow over 
 those slain by my hand, the mourners shall forget it, and 
 fall in their turn. The father shall commend to the son ; 
 and, reeling to his grave, shall leave him ^s an inheritance 
 a fondness for me ; and the son follow in the footsteps of 
 his father, down to perdition. Physicians shall invoke my 
 aid in sickness; and in all circles I will plant myself 
 securely, and make myself a companion and a familiar, 
 and men shall ne er be so merry as in the presence of their 
 deadliest foe. 
 
 Poetry shall lend me her rose-garland, and music her 
 charm ; and the spirit of melody shall speak from the myriad 
 harps to sound my praises, and witch the world with the idle 
 dream that 1 am the inspirer of mirth and the soul of hap- 
 piness and all good fellowship ; and if there be one of all 
 that glorious race, for whom yon planets, from their golden 
 urns pour dow^n their silent, everlasting cataract of light, 
 who excels his fellows, I will allure him with songs and 
 visions of beauty, and strew his path with rose-leaves, till at 
 last he shall walk heedless into my coils. And, once my 
 slave, though a thousand should weave their heart-strings 
 around him, and weep tears of blood, he shall, in all his pride 
 and beauty, sink deeper and deeper ; and in tribulation and 
 anguish unutterable, dig his own pathway down to hell. 
 
 [The following to be as one reading with the foregoing, when 
 
 there is time.] 
 
 i 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
MODERATE DRINKFNG — THE WORST. 
 
 31 
 
 ome will I 
 very nerve 
 :d gaze the 
 
 ikind shall 
 iiy mission 
 ir business, 
 ind delude 
 le a " good 
 e wedding 
 .1 gathering 
 grow over 
 rget it, and 
 o the son ; 
 inheritance 
 Dotsteps of 
 invoke my 
 mt myself 
 a familiar, 
 ice of their 
 
 music her 
 the myriad 
 ith the idle 
 oul of hap- 
 one of all 
 leir golden 
 :t of light, 
 songs and 
 ives, till at 
 i, once my 
 eart-strings 
 II his pride 
 ilation and 
 3 hell. 
 
 oing, when 
 
 I 
 
 THE DYINC; DRUNKARD. 
 
 HV A PHYSICIAN. 
 
 H.trk ! hark ! I hear a horrid tone 
 
 Of curses mingling now with groans, 
 
 That strikes upon a listening ear 
 
 In notes of woe ! Are demons here ? 
 
 " Back ! back ! ye hell-hounds !" now he cries. 
 
 While maddening frenzy fires his eyes ; 
 
 And with fatigue upon his couch. 
 
 Awaits again the fiends' approach. 
 
 " Help ! help !" he cries again, " they come ; 
 Oh ! don't you hear their hellish hum ; 
 Keep them away! O God, they tear 
 My flesh, and wind among my hair ! 
 Vipers of Hell ! what do I see — 
 
 ! 'tis a ghost ! where shall I flee ? 
 My wife ! she comes e'en from her grave 
 To haunt me ! Back ! thou canst not save ! 
 Hell yawns to clasp my wretched soul, 
 And devils now my heart-strings hold ! 
 
 They come ! they come ! O God ! save ! save ! 
 
 1 sink with demons to the grave ! 
 Away ! away !" His strength was gone, 
 And with a curse, his life was done. 
 
 I 
 
 MODERATE DRINKING— THE WORST. 
 
 BY S. STEBBINS, M.D. 
 
 The deep and irreparable injury which alcohol inflicts on 
 the human system has been set forth by the most competent 
 investigators. But its worst effect is upon the brains of its 
 numerous victims, thereby deranging their thoughts, debasing 
 their morals, and perplexing all human affairs. 
 
 Industry in every department, agriculture, manufactures, 
 
ill!! 
 
 32 
 
 READINGS AND RFXITATIONS. 
 
 i ' 
 
 i ^ 
 
 (* 
 
 1 
 
 i 1 
 
 1 
 
 y. 
 
 . 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 trade in all its ramifications, everything pertaining to the 
 welfare of society, is obstructed and retarded by an agent 
 that distracts and confuses the operations of the brain. 
 Intellect is what rules the world ; consequently, whatever jars 
 and confuses the intellects of the people disorders every- 
 thing. Education, religion, liberty, and every other good 
 cause is impeded. 
 
 It is not that a few poor creatures get drunk occasionally, 
 and suffer as individuals for their folly ; but every interest 
 most dear to civilization is embarrassed or blighted by this 
 mind-perverting agent. It assaults the very citadel of reason, 
 and deranges the mental machinery. 
 
 " Were some inferior organ of the body, whose functions 
 are purely of a physical or chemical nature, the object of 
 alcoholic invasion, the attitude of the question would be 
 greatly changed. But alcohol is specifically a cerebral 
 poison. It seizes with a disorganizing energy upon the brain, 
 that mysterious part whose steady and undisturbed action 
 holds man in true and responsible relations with society, and 
 with God ; and it is this fearful fact that gives to govern- 
 ment and society their tremendous interest in the question." 
 
 The symptoms of the first stage in intemperance are 
 somewhat obscure ; because, first, they are not so apparent ; 
 and second, they have not been investigated as they should 
 have been. The first, which is by far the worst state of in- 
 toxication, has not elicited that attention from competent 
 observers which has been given to the second stage. The 
 phenomena of undisguised sottishness have been described 
 in prose and verse ; but the first, or moderate stage, which is 
 the most i^revalent, and for that among other reasons the 
 most hurtful — aside from, and independent of, its tendency 
 to excess — has been permitted to pass almost unnoticed. 
 
 There is some excitement of the mental functions, but as a 
 
 this does not arise from a natural or healthful stimulus, it is 
 perversion of the intellect. Voluntary control over the 
 current of thought, which is a distinguishing trait of a sound 
 mind, is much weakened. While '.leas and images flit 
 through the orain with greater rapidity, no mental process 
 
 ■raS 
 
 m 
 
 .-•'!■ 
 
MODERATE £>RINKING — THfe WORST. 
 
 33 
 
 ;e functions 
 e object of 
 1 would be 
 a cerebral 
 )n the brain, 
 rbed action 
 ^ociety, and 
 to govern- 
 e question." 
 
 3erance are 
 
 o apparent ; 
 
 they should 
 state of in- 
 competent 
 
 stage. The 
 n described 
 ge, which is 
 reasons the 
 its tendency 
 loticed. 
 )ns, but as a 
 imulus, it is 
 )1 over the 
 of a sound 
 images flit 
 ntal process 
 
 '? 
 '# 
 
 can be carried on with the same continuity as in a state of 
 l)erfect sobriety. 
 
 One of the worst conseciuences of this degree of intoxi- 
 cation is, that it de]:)rives a man of that calm reflection and 
 foresight so essential to the correct performance of his duties 
 in every relation of life. If tlie privation of reason is only 
 ])artial, then the victim is not the same person he would be 
 if in a natural condition, and a very large proportion of our 
 ])ul)lic men are stunted and distorted in this way. The 
 passions and emotions are more easily aroused, and are less 
 under the control of the will. From this it will be perceived 
 that no man is quite sane after having drank one small glass. 
 He is a changed man, and will say and do things that he 
 would not say or do if he was unaffected by liquor. He has 
 parted with a portion of his discretion, which is among the 
 higher attributes of his manhood. He has lost some of his 
 reason. While his i)assions are more readily provoked, he 
 has become weakened in the power of self-control. He is 
 not only more inclined to do wrong, but is less liable to re- 
 strain himself from wrong-doing. He has. therefore, under- 
 gone a very serious transformation ; and if not ready for an 
 evil deed, he is certainly more liable to be led into vice and 
 crime. Such is the effect of the most moderate use of 
 alcoholic beverages. 
 
 in order to obtain a clear comprehension of the injury to 
 the brain and nervous system which is caused by one drink 
 of any kind of liquor containing alcohol, we have only to 
 suppose the effect, however slight, to be as lasting as life 
 itself — that Nature was not kind enough to relieve its victim 
 in due time of the maudlin and perplexing burden — that 
 there was no balm in Gilead for such a case, and no means 
 under heaven by which he could become a sober man again. 
 Could we conceive of a greater affliction, short of the entire 
 wreck of reason, than a mortal thus doomed to carry in his 
 blood and in his brain that one jjortion of alcohol, during all 
 the days and niglits of liis earthly existence? Would not 
 such a wretch cross the seas, and wander to the uttermost 
 l)arts of the earth for relief? Would he not sigh continually 
 for deliverance, and long for sol^riety or death ? Well, if the 
 
1 
 
 •'i 
 
 : I 
 
 ll 
 
 iltl.l 
 
 34 
 
 rp:adings and recitations. 
 
 intoxication of one glass would be such a horrible calamity, 
 in case it was permanent and hopeless, // z/iust be equally bad 
 7vhile it lasts. Who but a fool would wish to be that much 
 deranged for a short time — even for a moment ? 
 
 If the effect of one glass could be as plainly seen as the 
 effect of five we should be able to guage the exact degree 
 of intoxication of those around us, and would be better able 
 to protect ourselves from their frecjuent outrages. A dog 
 that bites withoLt first alarming you with his bark or growl 
 is a more vicious brute than one that gives timely warning. 
 The silent stealthy copperhead is more to be dreaded than the 
 threatening rattlesnake. A lunatic who is not so far de- 
 mented as not to be able at times to disguise his real con- 
 dition, in the presence of all except experts in the art of 
 detecting insanity, is a more dangerous character than one 
 who is manifestly crazy. The drunkard raises his colors, 
 and bids those around him to be on their guard, but the 
 moderate drinker is ambushed and concealed by an appear- 
 ance of sobriety. When we know a man is drunk, ,ve can 
 look out for him, but the misfortune is that we are surrounded 
 by moderate drinkers in every walk of life, who do not dis- 
 close their real condition. 
 
 Men who are in the habit of using alcholoic beverages 
 are never clear of their mind-disturbing effect, and are there- 
 fore never perfectly sane; consequently, nearly all of our 
 legislators are, much of their time, more or less cra/y. They 
 have not that use of their faculties that they would have if 
 their brains were in a normal state. Every impulse of such 
 jjotations deranges the exquisite mechanism of the mental 
 organ. 
 
 The free and unembarrassed use of the reasoning i)owers 
 is essential to right action. We have never yet had a 
 Legislature uninfluenced by alcohol, and we can hardly 
 realize what a blessing it would be to have one such. 
 
 The evils of downright sottishness ar'^ often overrated, 
 while the evils of moderate tipi)ling, of themselves, and apart 
 from all tendency to excess, have never been adeciuately de- 
 picted. Extreme drunkenness, with all its pains and horrors, 
 is a condition that carries with it a salutary disgust and a 
 
 III 
 
THE DEMON IS FORTH. 
 
 35 
 
 wholesome warning. It is a blessing to the drinker, that 
 it punishes him for the violation of his moral and physical 
 nature. It makes him stupid, and unable to do the mis- 
 chief he would be more likely to do in a moderate state 
 of intoxication. It presents a striking apj)earance to all, 
 of some of the miseries inseparable from the drink. 'I'he 
 lowest class of drunkards would be ashamed to drink, if 
 they were not sustained by the example of their more re- 
 spectable and moderate associates ; the licjuor traffic is kept 
 up by moderate drinkers, and for moderate drinkers. The 
 sots are relieved of self-disgust by mixing themselves up 
 with moderate drunkards as much as possible. If there 
 could be no tippling without vulgar excess ; if there were 
 but two classes — helpless sots and consistent teetotalers — 
 our condition would be vastly better than it is now, and 
 would continue to imprdve rajMdly. The second stage of 
 drunkenness may be a sorer affliction to the individual^ and 
 to his family ; but the greatest calamities and the saddest 
 disasters come from moderate intoxication. A man with a 
 moderate cpantity of alcohol in his brain will often be super- 
 serviceable and over-officious in the transaction of business, 
 and will be very ai)t to blunder ; and the blunder may, owing 
 to his position and the nature of his duties, be of such a 
 character as to destroy the lives, pro])erty, and ha])j)iness of 
 huhdreds of his fellow-beings ; whereas, if more deeply intoxi- 
 cated, he dare not atternj)! anything of the kind ; and if he 
 did, he would be arrested in his temerity by others. His 
 trust would be forfeited, his j)Osition lost, and his power to 
 vex and trouble extensively would be gone. If he indulges 
 to excess, he must be content to move in an humbler sphere, 
 where he can do less injury to others, even by his excesses. 
 
 THE DEMON IS FORTH. 
 
 There's a demon forth — a demon forth, 
 
 He roameth raging free; 
 He is loosed l)y the law of Christian land, 
 
 And a maniac laugh has he. 
 
 I 
 
 
il! i 
 
 II' 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
 ?HI 
 
 * . 
 
 36 
 
 READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 
 
 He leaps on and tears ten thousand breasts, 
 
 He mocketh the haggard eye ; 
 And disease and death bestrew his path, 
 
 Want, sorrow and misery. 
 
 He goeth forth with a treacherous smile, 
 But his blood-stained banner we see ; 
 
 His hands doth the fairest scenes defile, 
 But followers many has he. 
 
 He goeth forth in the dark dark night. 
 
 He noveth with flashing eye. 
 And mocketh with fiendish, impure delight 
 
 The God of heaven on high. 
 
 He enter? the doors of the happiest homes, 
 While the little ones flee in dismay ; 
 
 And the mother weeps a burning tear. 
 Which in vain she wipes away. 
 
 He mocketh the grief of that stricken heart, 
 
 And curseth her shrinking form ; 
 And the home once touched by his terrible hand 
 
 Becomes like a wreck in the storm. 
 
 He claims to wed the fairest bride, 
 
 And unite in the bridal prayers ; 
 Then speedily pale the cheek by his side, 
 
 And furrow her brow with sad cares. 
 
 At happiest hearts, into purest homes 
 
 Are his bolts of fury hurled ; 
 On all hands fly his fiendish darts, 
 
 The curse of this sinful world. 
 
 From his lips pour forth a shower of oaths, 
 Christians caress his murderous bowl ; 
 
 But the curse of heaven is on his brow. 
 And foul leprosy clings to his soul, 
 
 t}\ 
 
 llllh 
 
ists, 
 
 *5 
 
 4 
 
 
 THE WORST OF WIVES. 
 
 Beware ! Beware of this demon drink, 
 Pluck the sceptre sway from his hand ; 
 
 Fell disgrace and ruin, his bosom friends, 
 Are linked with him hand in hand. 
 
 37 
 
 ight 
 
 mes, 
 
 The demon is forth ! T/ie demon is forih, 
 
 Ring loud the alarming bell, 
 Raise the hue and cry, " let the traitor die," 
 
 Toll over his grave the knell. 
 
 The children will smile with sweet childhood's smile, 
 And strength shall come to the weak ; 
 
 Joy and bloom of youth will return again 
 To many a withering cheek. 
 
 The nations will raise acclaim of joy. 
 
 And bright smiles illumine the sad. 
 When patriots this fettering fiend destroy, 
 
 Oh, how many a heart will be glad. 
 
 eart, 
 ^le hand 
 
 e, 
 
 iths, 
 
 THE WORST OF WIVES. 
 
 A mtin had once a vicious wife, 
 (A most uncommon thing in life), 
 His days and nights were spent in strife 
 
 Unceasing. 
 
 Her tongue went glibly all day long, 
 Tart contradiction all her song, 
 And all the poor man did was wrong 
 
 And ill done. 
 
 A truce without doors or within. 
 From speeches long as tradesmen spin. 
 Or rest from her eternal din 
 
 He found not. 
 
 r'l 
 
 I 
 
i t 
 
 ) 
 
 
 I !!ll!»f 
 
 ^^!ii 
 
 
 Ml ' 
 
 ■1?! il- 
 
 ! \ 
 
 38 READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 
 
 He every soothing art displayed, 
 Tried of what stuff her skin was made, 
 P'ailing in all, to heaven he prayed 
 
 To take her. 
 
 To crown the case she took to drink — 
 Now each for other took to think 
 Having arrived at ruin's brink, 
 
 " Go over." 
 
 From bad to worse the progress fast. 
 The life the direful 7C'orst at last. 
 Became in desperation past 
 
 Endurance. 
 
 Once walking by the river side. 
 
 In mournful terms, " My dear," he cried. 
 
 No more let feuds our peace divide, 
 
 I'll end them. 
 
 it 
 
 Weary of life, and quite resigned 
 To drown I have made up my mind, 
 So tie my hands as fast behind 
 
 As can be. 
 
 " Or Nature may assert her right, 
 My arms assist, my will restrain. 
 And swimming I once more regain 
 
 My troubles." 
 
 With eager haste the dame complies. 
 While joy stands glistening in her eyes ; 
 Already in her thoughts " he dies" 
 
 Before her. 
 
 Yet when he sees the rolling tide 
 " Nature revolts," he said, " beside 
 I would not be a suicide 
 
 And die thus." 
 
THE T-OSINGS BANK. 
 
 39 
 
 
 4 
 
 A bright idea strikes him now, 
 Troubles to end and keep his vow, 
 Parted they must be, but just how 
 
 To manage. 
 
 Most earnest words to her address'd, 
 One last good ofifice on her press'd, 
 " One kindness add to all the rest 
 
 And finish." 
 
 " It would be better far, I think, 
 While close I stand upon the brink 
 You push me in ; nay, never shrink. 
 
 But do it." 
 
 To give the push the more effect. 
 Back twenty yards she ran direct, 
 And did what she could least suspect 
 
 She should do. 
 
 He steps aside himself to save, 
 
 liO ! souse — she dashes in the wave. 
 
 And gave, what ne'er before she gave, 
 
 Much pleasure. 
 
 " Dear husband, help ; I sink," she cried ; 
 " Thou best of wives," he mild replied, 
 " I would, but thou my hands hast tied, 
 
 Heaven help thee !" 
 
 THE LOSINGS BANK. 
 
 As Mr. Reed, the builder, came into his yard on Monday 
 morning, he met George Joyce. A fine intelligent man he 
 was, and a very skillful workman. 
 
 " Good morning, sir," said Joyce, 
 
1 ' ' 
 
 1 
 
 i 
 ■1 
 
 * 
 
 1 
 
 i 
 
 ,!'.ir 
 
 111! 
 
 1 
 
 LM 
 
 40 
 
 READINGS AND RKCITATIONS, 
 
 It 
 
 Good morning," replied Mr. Reed ; " I wanted to see 
 you this morning particularly, Joyce, to speak to you about 
 a mistake you made on Saturday." 
 
 " I am sorry to hear it, sir — I was not aware — I hope no 
 harm's done, sir." 
 
 "I wish I could say none, Joyce — but I fear there is 
 serious harm — to me — and what I care for, to your wife— 
 and, I might add, to your country." 
 
 "I don't take your meaning, sir," said Joyce, looking 
 puzzled. 
 
 " Well, then, I'll speak my meaning plainly. You know 
 that I desire to be your friend. As a friend listen to me. 
 
 " As I was turning home on Saturday evening, on passing 
 the post office, a large number of workingmen and their 
 wives were going into the Savings Bank, and it made my 
 heart glad to see them. 
 
 " But I passed on ; as I came by Cattle's corner, I saw 
 you and several others turn into the Losings Bank, there to 
 deposit your wages. It's always a pleasure to me to pay 
 money well earned, but I own, Joyce, I grudged you yours." 
 
 "Losings Bank, sir? I suppose that it's the 'Red Lion' 
 you're talking of. I did turn in for an hour with a mate." 
 
 " Mr. Joyce, you are a thinking man. Have you ever 
 thought about tliis matter ? " 
 
 " Well, not very particularly. To my mind there isn't 
 much to think, save that after a long week's work it's hard if 
 a man musn't take a bit of rest without being taken to task 
 for it as if he'd been stealing or murdering." 
 
 " Well, there are thefts and murders take place in the 
 public houses more than ever came before a judge and jury; 
 but they are not the less noticed by Him whose eye sees the 
 wife and children whose money is wrongfully taken from 
 them. But, to return to what I was saying, have you ever 
 reckoned up what you deposit every time you turn in?" 
 
 " Well, a shilling it may be, or two." 
 
 Mr. Reed, taking a pencil and piece of paper from his 
 pocket-book, handed them to Joyce, and said, " Let us looH 
 at It fully, and make a fair calculation. You deposit 
 
THE DRINK ! THE DRINK ! 
 
 41 
 
 Your money — and lose it. 
 
 Your time — and lose it. 
 
 Your character — and lose it. 
 
 Your health of body — and lose it. 
 
 Your strength of mind — and lose it. 
 
 Your manly independence — and lose it. 
 
 Your self-respect — and lose it. 
 
 Your sense of right — and lose it. 
 
 Your self-control — and lose it. 
 
 Your home comfort— and lose it. 
 
 Your wife's happiness — and lose it. 
 
 Your children's rights — and lose them. 
 
 Your country's honor — and lose it. 
 
 Your own soul — and lose it." 
 " It looks a black list, rather," said Mr. Joyce. " I didn't 
 think there was so much in it ; and the last is the worst of 
 all." 
 
 " Better deposit in the Savings Bank, and also lay up 
 treasure more enduring at the same time." 
 
 " I think I do see a mighty change for the better can be 
 made." 
 
 THE DRINK! THE DRINK! 
 
 Come near, all ye who have learned to think, 
 And hear me speak of the drink ; 
 The drink whose nature is to beguile, 
 The drink the cause of so much that's vile. 
 It's bad for the brain, it's bad for the nerves. 
 For the one that buys and the one that serves ; 
 It's bad for the eyes, and it's bad for the breath, 
 It's bad for life, and it's bad for death ; 
 It's bad for the pocket, it's bad for the fame. 
 It's bad when it often ber.rs no blame ; 
 It's bad for friendship, it's worse for strife, 
 It's bad for the husbr.nd, it's bad for the wife ; 
 It's bad for the face where the pimi)les come, 
 It's bad for the children, and bad for the home ; 
 
|!l^'* 
 
 
 f 
 
 '42 RFADINGS AND RECITATIONS. 
 
 It's bad when the tradesman's bill's to pay, 
 It's bad — oh ! how bad — for a "rainy day;" 
 It's bad when it nerves a man to do 
 The crime that he's not accustomed to ; 
 It was bad for the culprit who sighs in jail, 
 It's bad for his wife — so sickly, so pale ; 
 It's bad, it transfers from her cheek the rose. 
 To give tint to the top of her partner's nose ; 
 It's bad for the strong, and it's bad for the weak, 
 It's the mainspring of many a terrible freak ; 
 It's bad in the morning, it's bad at night. 
 It's bad in the dark and bad in the light ; 
 It's bad for the young and bad for the old, 
 It's bad in the heat and bad in the cold ; 
 It's bad, for it leads from bad to worse, 
 The climax of bad, the giant curse ; 
 The ruffian's power, the death of hope. 
 The passport on to the hangman's rope ; 
 Humanity's bane, destruction's gate. 
 The Church's shame, the blight of the State ; 
 And now thinking folks I hope that you f/iink 
 That ^<?^^-law should ouf-\a.\w the horrible drink. 
 
 MR. TIPPLE NONE. 
 
 Mr. Tipple a Little and Mr. Tipple More 
 
 And Mr. Tipple None 
 Began to talk together once. 
 
 Thus did their talking run. 
 
 I 
 :1 
 
 Said Tipple a Little to Tipple None, 
 " My dearest Sir I do think 
 
 'Tis wrong to banish out of the land 
 All but your teetotal drink. 
 
 " Because a little spirit's good 
 Whene'er the flesh is weak ; 
 
 I i 
 
MR. TIPPLK NONE. 
 
 43 
 
 But then to drink too much is wrong, 
 'Tis not for that I speak. 
 
 " But when one's ivet, or one is dry, 
 
 Or when one's cold, or when 
 One's many sundry ways — 
 
 To take a /ittle then." 
 
 " That's just the thing," quoth Tipple Much, 
 
 (Rising from where sat, 
 And balancing body and mind) declared 
 
 " That's right ! I'll stick to that ! " 
 
 " But then to drink too much, why that — 
 
 JVhy that I would despise." 
 " Quite right, all right, I say j-^///-^ right^^ — 
 
 (But seemed more drunk than wise.) 
 
 " That's just the talk I like," quoth he, 
 " Come, brother, join our band ; 
 
 Let's have another drink on that," 
 (And kindly seized his hand.) 
 
 With blood-shot eyes, and tattered clothes 
 
 Then came poor Tipple All, 
 To join these brothers at the bar, 
 
 And for the liquor call. 
 
 " Is Tipple a Little then your friend ?" 
 
 Then Tipple None replied ; 
 And Tipple Much, and Tipple All, 
 
 Are all on Tipple's side. 
 
 Quite right they should, for one by one 
 
 From grade to grade they fall ; 
 And Tipple a Little shordy comes 
 
 To be poor Tipple All. 
 
 Each quite approve your arguments. 
 All say, " Don't drink too much ;" 
 
 
f 
 
 lit 
 
 !• 
 
 44 READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 
 
 And every street in Drunkendom 
 Is peopled full of such. 
 
 Then take good counsel, all good folks, 
 
 And warning every one ; 
 Take to the way so sure and safe — 
 
 Highway of Tipple None. 
 
 This way can never lead one down, 
 Path firm, and air so pure ; 
 
 All testify who walk therein — 
 'Tis pleasant, sa*e and sure. 
 
 Millions have tried both ways, and all 
 
 Agree to this alone ; 
 Immense advantages enjoyed 
 
 By Mr. Tipple None. 
 
 'iii 
 
 jf 
 
 THE LANDLADY'S CONVICTION. 
 
 " Husband, I've felt so sad of late — I scarce can tell you why, 
 I wish some other way of life you would resolve to try ; 
 The oaths I hear — the scenes I see — I often feel ashamed, 
 When thinking of the ruined homes for which we may be 
 blamed." 
 
 " Pooh ! nonsense, wife! 'tis folly all; I wonder much to hear 
 You ramble on in this wild style, you scarce can be sincere ; 
 Ashamed indeed ! I wonder, now, what you'll be thinking 
 
 next, 
 We're patronised by gentlefolks! you make me feel quite 
 
 vexed. 
 
 Our children all are fed and clothed, we've saved a little too, 
 Our house is quite respectable, you know I'm saying true ; 
 You've servants now at your command, can live an easy life. 
 And to the present you have been a good and careful wife." 
 
 IP 
 
THE landlady's conviction. 
 
 45 
 
 Jf 
 
 " O yes, I know you're saying true, and careful we have been. 
 To keep our little ones away from every tap-room scene ; 
 'Tis when I think of other homes and children like our own 
 And feel how wretched is the lot of many we have known ; 
 
 'Tis then it troubles me to know while we are clothed and fed, 
 The homes of those we thrive ui)on have scarce a piece of 
 
 bread ; 
 I've tried in vain to feel content, strange as it mny appear. 
 And peace I can no longer know while we continue here." 
 
 " I see now why you have of late been out on Sabbath days, 
 And, much to my astonishment, I heard the servants say — 
 That you had seemed so changed of late, as if distressed in 
 
 mind, 
 Though then I thought it quite untrue, 'tis I was wrong, I 
 
 find." 
 
 " Edward, I've just begun to think and seek to know the 
 
 right, 
 And since I have my bible read, I see things by its light ; 
 1 shudder now to think of all the ruin drink has wrought. 
 The pain, and wretchedness, and want, to very many brought." 
 
 " Well, I have wondered much of late to know what was 
 
 amiss. 
 Yet did not think you'd ever be in such a pass as this. 
 You're worse than foolish thus to talk of such a trade as ours, 
 When more than many earn in months we now can save in 
 
 hours. 
 
 If fools will spend, w^hy should we heed ? their folly is our 
 gain; 
 
 It is not us who make them drink, or you might well com- 
 plain ; 
 
 Keep quiet, wife, your nerves are weak, to lectures go no 
 more, 
 
 And if you take a little gin it will your nerves restore." 
 
 " It is not that, dear Edward, no, nor would I you distress, 
 It is the great and solemn truth which doth my mind impress : 
 
 H 
 
 1 
 
 it 
 
Uil 
 
 »1 
 
 46 
 
 READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 
 
 
 III 
 
 Wk^ 
 
 (■■Si 
 
 1 never can our son forget — a drunkard's death he died — 
 Murdered within his childhood's home, yet once our joy and 
 pride. 
 
 say not 'tis a thriving trade, which scatters poison round, 
 Spreads evil as a pestilence, makes wretchedness abound ; 
 Can money us our child restore, or for his loss repay, 
 Undo the evil drink has wrought, or take distress away ?" 
 
 *' Poor boy ! why did you mention him ? you know I loved 
 
 him well. 
 And on his sad untimely end I cannot bear to dwell ; 
 And when I think of him 1 feel that for my children's sake, 
 
 1 would that I my way could see — some other calling take. 
 
 'Tis just twelvemonths since Harry died, I scarce can speak 
 
 his name. 
 I fear for his unhappy end I really was to blame ; 
 I feel what you have said is true, and yet to leave it now, 
 And get as good a livelihood I really see not how ! 
 
 Besides the sacrifice would be too great for us to make, 
 The best we can we ought to do, for our dear children's 
 
 sake; 
 Since Harry'§ death the younger ones are guarded well from 
 
 harm. 
 So look not on the dark side, wife, nor let your fears alarm." 
 
 " I've tried for long a brighter side in this sad trade to find, 
 Hut gloom and darkness gather round, and fears my sjiirits 
 
 bind. 
 Could all the oaths which here niC sworn, the dreadful sights 
 
 we see, 
 Be written on tl\e walls around, how awful would it be 1 
 
 Could all the souls our drink destroys be seen in darkness 
 
 clad, 
 Your blood would run with terror cold, your heart like mine 
 
 be sad, 
 
CONFESSION OF A VICTIM. 
 
 47 
 
 e died — 
 Dur joy and 
 
 ;on round, 
 abound ; 
 pay, 
 ; away ?" 
 
 ovv I loved 
 
 veil; 
 
 dren's sake, 
 .Ding take. 
 
 i can speak 
 
 e It now, 
 
 I 
 
 make, 
 
 r children's 
 
 d well from 
 
 iars alarm." 
 
 de to find, 
 my spirits 
 
 adful sights 
 
 it be! 
 
 in darkness 
 
 t like mine 
 
 I 
 
 A dreadful thing it is to feel the evil we have wrought. 
 How many to eternal death the drink we sell has brought." 
 
 *' Our course is wrong, I must admit, although I have not 
 
 thought 
 About its awful consequence so deeply as I ought ; 
 But still some better plan devise, than all at once to leave. 
 We might, by serving sober men, some profit still receive." 
 
 ** Dear Edward, sober men, you know, may drunkard's soon 
 
 become, 
 No, let us rather suffer want than rob another's home ; 
 How many are there I could name have found a drunkard's 
 
 end. 
 Who first came here, as sober men, an idle hour to spend. 
 
 Oft in the silent hour of night, when all around is still. 
 The thunderings of almighty wrath my anguished spirit fill, 
 1 hear the drunkard's dying cry, his wailings of desi)air. 
 And we, if we go on in sin, the drunkard's hell must share. 
 
 We know the right, and let us now forsake this sinful way, 
 No mercy can we find until Ood's word we first obey. 
 And if in God we put our trust. He'll guide our steps aright. 
 Will all our daily needs supply, afid make our darkness light." 
 
 *' You are right, dear wife, I jjlainly see, this business we'll 
 
 forsake, 
 And to some honest way of life we will ourselves betake ; 
 From drink I will with you abstain, and strive some good to 
 
 do, 
 And if we should some trouble meet, trust God to bring us 
 
 through." 
 
 CONFESSION OF A VICTIM. 
 
 BY THE DISTINGUISHED AUTHOR OF THE ** ESSAYS OF ELI A." 
 
 The waters have gone over mc. But out of the black 
 depths, could I be heard, I would cry out to all those who 
 
 I 
 
:ill! 
 
 48 
 
 READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 
 
 1'' 
 
 1 
 
 i \h 
 
 t 
 
 have but set a foot in the perilous flood. Could the youth, 
 to whom the flavor of his first wine is delicious as the open- 
 ing scenes of life, or the entering upon some newly discover- 
 ed paradise, look into my desolation, and be made to 
 understand what a dreary thing it is when a man shall feel 
 himself going down a precipice with open eyes and a passive 
 will — to see his destruction and have no power to stop it, 
 and yet to feel it all the way emanating from himself — to 
 perceive all goodness emptied out of him, and yet not to be 
 able to forget a time when it was otherwise — to bear about 
 the piteous spectacle of his own self ruin : — could he see my 
 fevered eye, feverish with last night's drinking, and feverishly 
 looking forward for this night's repetition of the folly — could 
 he feel the body of the death out of which I cry hourly with 
 feebler outcry to be delivered — it were enough to make him 
 dash the sparkling beverage to the earth in all the pride of 
 its mantling temptation — to make him clasp his teeth, 
 
 (< 
 
 -And not undo 'em, 
 
 To suffer wet damnation to run thro' 'em." 
 
 It is time for the pulpit — for the ministers of that gospel 
 which holds no compromise with evil, to stand out boldly 
 and faithfully against this oppressive sin. There is a fear in 
 the mind of some. They are afraid lest the cause be 
 unpopular, or they become uninfluential, or offend certain 
 nice individuals. Let it be so no longer. Let us who are 
 fathers take our children as Hamilcar did, and make them 
 swear eternal hate to this destroyer of our land — this beast 
 of prey, fastening itself on the vitals of the nation. 
 
 On, then, you champions of the Right, 
 
 Ye men of courage true ; 
 Keep Prohirition's goal in sight — 
 
 No backward step for you I 
 
 No more let tears of blood be shed, < 
 
 Nor license death and woes — 
 Down with the trade, forever down I 
 
 Whatever may oppose. 
 
CANADIAN YOUTH. 
 
 49 
 
 [The foregoing and following for one reading.] 
 
 CANADIAN YOUTH. 
 
 Tune — " National Anthem ^ 
 
 Canadian youth, arise ! 
 
 Join with the temp'rance cause 
 
 To bless mankind : 
 Lift up your voices high, 
 To him who hears your cry, 
 \\'ho does your wants supply, 
 
 Times without end. 
 
 Christians, haste to the field. 
 Gird on your sword and shield, 
 
 To conquer go ; 
 God will your efforts bless, 
 Crown you with great success, 
 And banish drunkeness 
 
 From all below. 
 
 Can you the call refuse ? 
 Will you his cause abuse. 
 
 And idle stand ? 
 With folded arms abreast. 
 In Zion taking rest. 
 Drunkenness not repressed 
 
 From this our land ? 
 
 Come, then, and join our cause. 
 Let men or fiends oi)p(jse. 
 
 You may be free ; 
 l^reak off your hellish chains; 
 Wash off your guilty stains, 
 While time and health remains, 
 
 Now let it be. 
 
 Then victory is sure. 
 Drunkards will find a cure, 
 Without alloy ; 
 D 
 
 » ill 
 
 H 
 
irrr' 
 
 50 
 
 HEADINGS AND RECITATIONS. 
 
 Mothers would dry their tears, 
 Banish their needless fears — 
 God having crown'd their years 
 With mighty joy. 
 
 O God ! let Temp'rance shine, 
 Upheld by power divine. 
 
 Till time shall cease ; 
 Let sin and misery 
 From earth be made to flee. 
 That all may look to thee, 
 
 The Prince of Peace. 
 
 •i 
 
 .k 
 
 ij 
 
 !i 
 
 ■I 
 
 1 
 
 ( 
 
 i 
 
 A CITIZEN OF DRUNKDOM. 
 
 BY W. A. STEPHENS. 
 
 The crown was out of his old plug hat. 
 He'd a (juid in his cheek put by, 
 
 A flask he had in his old coat-tail. 
 And a drop he had in his eye. 
 
 His brownish brogues had no blacking seen 
 
 For many and many a day, 
 And out at the end his toes were seen, 
 
 And open the quarters lay. 
 
 Around a feeble emaciate fame ' 
 
 His clothes hung ragged and thin, 
 
 Resi)ectable once, but saturate now, 
 ^Vith tobacco and dirt and gin. 
 
 His wife in a house dark, leaky and old. 
 
 In her eye not a joyous beam, 
 The rags in the window let in the cold. 
 
 But keep out the sunny gleam. 
 
 The children — for they have children three- 
 Are learning to beg and steal ; 
 
WORSE AND WORSE. 
 
 51 
 
 H 
 
 And have learned by his sacred name to swear, 
 To whom they know not to kneel. 
 
 Oh, ye who dispense the fatal cup. 
 
 And deal out this ruin wide ; 
 Think death's pale horse will soon be in sight. 
 
 Yes, and you must mount and ride. 
 
 What, then, will avail the paltry dimes. 
 You have had for so many a dram; 
 
 From those gone before to a drunkard's grave 
 Whom your liquor has helped to damn. 
 
 O think of your culpable course in time. 
 To the words of warning attend . 
 
 End short the terrible work, or behold 
 Approaching the terrible end. 
 
 WORSE AND WORSE. 
 
 But it has done worse things than break the staff of bread, 
 lower rank, v reck fortunes, and crown wealth with .thorns. 
 Most accursL^l vice ! What hopes so ])recious that it has 
 not withered, what career so promising that it has not 
 arrested, what heart so tender, what temjjer so fine that it 
 has not destroyed ! what things so noble and sacred that it 
 has not blasted ! Touched by its hell-fire flame tlie laurel 
 crown has been changed into ashes on the head of 
 mourning genius, and the wings of the poet scorched by it ; 
 he who once played in the light of sunbeams, and soared 
 aloft in the skies, has basely crawled into the dust. 
 Paralysing the mind even more than the l)ody, it has 
 turned the noblest intellect into drivelling idiocy. Not 
 awed by dignity, it has i)olluted the ermine of the judge. 
 Not scared away by the sanctity of the temple, it has defiled 
 the pulpit. In all these particulars I speak what I know. 
 I have seen it cover with a cloud, or expose to depositions 
 
 1 M 
 
Tf 
 
 uri'liir'r* 
 
 52 
 
 READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 
 
 H :J''f1 
 
 i 
 
 'r'|':'i 
 
 1 ; 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 i 
 
 
 
 l 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 iL. 
 
 from the office and honors of the holy ministry no tewer 
 than ten clergymen, with some of whom I have sat down 
 at the table of the Lord, and all of whom I numbered 
 in the rank of acquaintances and friends. The degradation 
 of so many thousands year by year is quite as appalling as 
 their immediate deaths. Forasmuch as it is the sure 
 preparatory stages to the continuance of the same fatal 
 results. 
 
 [These two to be read as one.] 
 WHO IS WITH US? 
 
 BY THE REV. W. W. ROBINSON, M. A. 
 
 The Great Teacher said, "He who is not with me is 
 against me ! " Which are you ? Remember, you are led by 
 the holy spirit, or by the unholy spirit. Solemn thought, 
 especially when connected with the judgment seat. 
 
 ]3ut, as respect;; the Temperance cause, " Who is on the 
 Lorcfs side ? " It is your duty to do all t/ie good you can — 
 /;/ the best way you can — to as many ^s you can—!xnd as 
 often as you can. Next to the salvation of the soul, through 
 the precious blood and meritorious righteousness of Jesus, 
 is the subject of Teetotalism, which removes an impediment 
 to the reception of the precious Gospel into the heart, by 
 the power of the Holy Spirit, from those who indulge in 
 intoxicating licjuors. The beverages have, instru?nentally, 
 allured men from the paths of piety — banished domestic 
 hai)piness — created unnatural thirst — deranged the intellect 
 — enlarged the number of the lost — filled the prisons — 
 generated the vilest projjensities — hindered the progress of 
 the Gosi)el — inflamed the blood — kindled the flames of 
 strife — laughed at sin — murdered the soul — nerved the 
 assassin's arm — opi)ressed the poor — i)oisoned the body — • 
 quenched holy desires — raged with Santanic violence — 
 scoffed at true religion— troubled the Church of Christ 
 — unarmed the philanthropist — vitiated the passions — 
 worked discord in families — yielded a harvest of woes, 
 and zealously affected men to evil ! On the other hand, 
 abstaining from into.xicating drinks has been instrumental, 
 
INDICTMENT OF THE LIQUOR TRAFFIC. 
 
 63 
 
 by the Divine blessing, in adoring the Gospel — brightening 
 the intellect — creating demand for labor — denying ungodli- 
 ness and worldly lusts — emptying the i)risons- — filling the 
 House of God — giving an mipetus to trade — hastening the 
 happiness of the world — imj)roving the condition of society 
 — keeping out of debt — lowering the price of food — 
 mortifying sin — nourishing kindly feelings — obtaining 
 mutual confidence — preventing crime — quenching unholy 
 desires — removing imi)ediments to the (iospel — si)reading 
 true happiness— turning from the evil of sin — uniting the 
 family of Jesus — valiantly contending for the truth — 
 yielding a multitude of l)lessings, and zealously' promoting 
 the temporal and spiritual welfare of many ! " Look on 
 this picture and on that : " then ask, " Am I on the Lord's 
 side?" Resolve, by the aid of the Holy Spirit, to banish 
 for ever the awful cup, which does more injury than rtwr, 
 pestilence^ or famine. They kill the body ; this destroys 
 body and soul. 
 
 1 -t 
 
 j 
 
 >ili 
 
 i 
 
 INDICTMENT OF THE LIQUOR TRAFFIC 
 
 Friends and fellow-citizens : Hear our appeal. We 
 speak in behalf of every dear interest. The ([uestions that 
 disturb us and demand our immediate attention are home 
 and heart (questions, and j)ropound themselves to all. 
 
 Shall intoxicants rule and ruin ? 
 
 What shall be done — shall anything be done — to uproot 
 an evil which all acknowledge, and whose terrible havoc all 
 dread ? 
 
 The liquor traffic is an unmitigated evil. Not one honest 
 word can be said in its favor. All other trades have just and 
 honorable foundations \ but this is the trade of death. 
 
 It has no regard for honor. It knows no truce. It hears 
 no cry of remonstrance — no appeal for mercy. 
 
 It is savage and relentless. 
 
 It is insidious to the last degree — stealing upon its victims 
 with the subtlety of a serpent ; finding its refuge in a license ; 
 and under that certificate sallies forth on its dreadful mission, 
 
IT 
 
 
 
 ! ^^ 
 
 \ii 
 
 54 
 
 READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 
 
 through our land with locks and hands and garments red 
 with innocent blood. 
 
 It tracks the unthinking youth until, by deceit and intrigue, 
 he yields. 
 
 It hides in the gorgeous halls of the rich, and crouches 
 low in the hovels of the poor, to blind and destroy. 
 
 It has devastated a larger area than war, or famine, or 
 pestilence. 
 
 It has blasted more homes and broken more hearts than 
 all these combined. 
 
 It has claimed freedom from regulation and intrenched 
 itself behind decisions of law. 
 
 It has increased its force, multiplied its attractions,, and 
 widened its avenues of infamy, until they are the unsightly 
 gildings of every street and the blazing attractions of every 
 corner. 
 
 It has employed all means to entrap and hold fast the 
 youth of our land — by nightly entertainments of music, 
 whose sounds, in themselves innocent and inspiring, decoy 
 to death. 
 
 It has hurled defiance at the God of heaven, and with 
 impunity insulted Christian people and disregarded the 
 sanctity of the holy sabbath. 
 
 It has formed leagues sworn to ui)hold the usurped and 
 unnatural rights utterly disregarding threat or entreaty. 
 
 Its agencies maintain the right to enter every family 
 circle and tear away the dearest and the best and render 
 null and void all laws human and divine. 
 JVe must work to keep it out of all parties ? 
 
 Let it be an issue by itself! 
 
 We must separate it to itself 
 
 We must compel it to raise its black flag unaided by any 
 political power. 
 
 Let us warn all parties of our unyielding opposition, that 
 shall for a moment grasp the bloody hand of the traffic. 
 
 Let it stand alone {or run for office alone)^ a monument of 
 evil, a monument of murder, of suicide, of pauperism, of 
 increased taxation, of prostitution, of treason to domestic 
 peace and public weal, of all crimes, despised in its own 
 
COMMON SENSE QUAkTEtl SESSIONS. 
 
 55 
 
 Mare to be hooted and despised until, cut off from all 
 symi)athy, it shall go down in eternal night. 
 
 ]-.et us withold our suffrage, with regard to i)arty ])olitics, 
 from any man who solicits our confidence and vote, if he is 
 the friend or abettor of the traffic. 
 
 Let him be the murderer's candidate, the suicide's 
 candidate, the rumseller's candidate ; but let him receive our 
 execration in the name of the hundreds of thousands of 
 blasted homes and blighted hearts in our broad land. 
 
 P'ellow-citizens, we appeal to you. 
 
 We entreat you to weigh well the issues raised, and sustain, 
 by your voices and your ballots, measures and men that look 
 toward the suppression of the traffic. 
 
 We appeal to you with a confidence. 
 
 We plead humanity's cause and yours. 
 
 We plead for your children — their lives, their property, 
 their character, their eternl future. 
 
 We plead for the honest son of toil— whose path is 'oeset 
 and whose earnings are filched by the conscienceless rum- 
 seller. 
 
 And we plead in the sacred names of God and Govern- 
 ment. 
 
 COMMON SENSE QUARTER SESSIONS. 
 
 JURY TRIAL — (from NOTES TAKEN IN COURT liY CRYSTAL 
 
 FOUNTAIN, ESQ.) 
 
 CONDENSED BY JACOB SBENCE. 
 
 On the bench, Judges, Conscience, CheiViIstry and Ex- 
 perience. The Jury were : 
 
 iu 
 
 Thomas Teacup 
 William Waterspout, 
 Nathan Nevertaste, 
 Samson Strongbone, 
 Henry Home-at-night, 
 Walter Well-to-do, 
 
 Charles Coffeepot 
 Saunders Soberman, 
 Sanniel S])ringwell, 
 Peter Steadyhead, 
 Josei)h Savewages, 
 IJenjamin Barleyl)annocks. 
 
 All respectable citizens of the royal burgh of Adamswine. 
 
 'H 
 
 •M 
 
1 
 
 i 
 1 
 
 1 
 i 
 
 1 
 
 m 
 
 READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 
 
 Council for tlie Crown,, Total Abstinence, Esq. For the 
 prisoner, Mr, Dramlcy. 
 
 lirought up on remand, Jolin IJarlcycorn, a hard featured 
 prisoner, charged witli various attemi)ts at poisoning, aggra- 
 vated by being of bad hal)it and repute. Witness examined. 
 
 John Matrimony de]3osed : 'J'hat he had a wite and six 
 children, earned good wages, yet he and his children were in 
 rags, and often unal)le to find a meal. 
 
 Was asked if he knew the i)risoner at the bar, said he did, 
 too well, his wife had got ac([uainted with ],)risoner at a 
 grocer's where she went for sugar; s/ie never was herself 
 afterwards. 
 
 Cross-examined — His wife had been that Avay for five years 
 • — Asked if he had not once assaulted the i)risoner by throw- 
 ing him out of the window? 
 
 Said he had and would do so again. 
 
 Margaret Wedlock next examined : Knew the prisoner at 
 the bar (to her cost). 
 
 Asked if she knew anything bad of the prisoner. 
 
 Said she knew evcrytliins^ bad of him ; he was a villain, and 
 had ruined her husband and fomily ; they once had a fine 
 house, but now they lived in a cellar; her husband attended 
 church with her for eleven years, and for that time was the 
 be.st of husbands. 
 
 Asked if her husband was an educated man ? 
 
 Yes; but since he got into prisoner's hands he never 
 opened a book ; and seemed to care only for strong drink. 
 
 Did he strike her? 
 
 Sometimes (she said tearfully), once he had broken three 
 of her ribs, but she knew it was all the i)risoner's doing. 
 
 William Weardless examined : 
 
 What was his employmcMit ? 
 
 He had once been a minister ; the ])risoner led him astray; 
 he had subse(|ucntly tauglit a school, but one day the i)ris- 
 oner had knocked him down on the floor, the scholars 
 thrashed him with the tawse, and he was obHged to leave ; 
 he had since been canvasser and travelling agent, but the 
 prisoner had run away with his money. 
 
 Matthew Doublesoles examined : 
 
 fii"! 
 
COMMON SENSE QUARTER SESSIONS. 
 
 57 
 
 m 
 
 )risoner at 
 
 Was a shoemaker in the town of Heeltacks ; goes to town 
 weekly for leather, on a gray ])ony. 
 
 Asked if he knew the prisoner ? 
 
 Said he did perfectly. 
 
 Asked if he ever attacked him ? 
 
 vSaid he constantly attacked him, especially about the ncad 
 every day ; that once in a public house he had rendered him 
 (juite insensible, so that he had to be carried to bed on a 
 handbarrow ; another night he had tumbled him from his 
 gray pony into a ditch, where he lay till daylight, and was 
 found in the morning trying to ride home on his bend of 
 leather without any pony. 
 
 Here a number of ragged keen-eyed boys evidently as 
 hungry as hawks, were successively examined. Their evidence 
 ])roving that he had exerted a most horrid spell over their 
 fathers, or mothers, or both, and even had led some of them- 
 selves badly astray. They had never been to school owing 
 to the prisoner's influence. 
 
 Little Jack Tatter-de-mallion said, the prisoner was often 
 in his father's ; that both father and mother had taken a 
 liking to him and gave him everything they had in the house. 
 Father once had a watch which the prisoner took, and 
 mother also gave him a coat of father's, and father was mad 
 about it and struck mother. Father too, struck little Jim 
 for asking his dinner. They once had fine things, and he 
 and Bobby used to sleep in a fine bed but now have to lie 
 on the floor. He knows it is the prisoner's doings. 
 
 Dr. Glauber deposed : He was a medical practitioner ; had 
 examined several persons who had came to their death 
 through the black art of the prisoner and his 77/^ associates ; 
 found marks of poison on the liver, and detected the pres- 
 ence of a virulent spirit on the stomach ; had no doubt that 
 the prisoner was guilty of the /;r'/'/V<f of poisoning. 
 
 Here various i)arties were called up, some with broken 
 legs and bleeding heads, and black eyes, tVc, cVc, all of 
 whom had received their injuries by the })risoner. 
 
 It was proved that he had j^ushed a labourer of the name 
 of Drouthy Thrapple into the river, while returning home at 
 night, and had knocked a workman from a house-roof 
 
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 55 
 
 READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 
 
 whereby his neck was broken. It was also proved that the 
 prisoner had been the author of several railway accidents, 
 as he was in the habit of enticing engine-men to neglect of 
 
 Much sensation was caused in court by the introduction of 
 John's eldest brother, a respectable looking person, who gave 
 his name as Barley-meal. This witness declared how grieved 
 he was at his brother's outrageous conduct. His old father 
 Seed-Barley had often warned John against his wickedness, 
 and bade him take example from himself, who never did an 
 ill turn to a human being. 
 
 Asked if there were any more ot the family ? 
 
 Said there was a quiet young brother called Pearl-barley, 
 and a stout ploughman Pot-barley. That John was the only 
 one of the family who had gone wrong. That the others 
 were all well-behaved. 
 
 Cross-examined. — His brother Pot-barley was chiefly em- 
 ployed in the broth business, and so was his younger brother 
 Pearl- Barley ; he himself, supplied house-keepers with the 
 material for bannocks. 
 
 The Rev. Textual examined: 
 
 Stated that the prisoner did more damage to the church 
 than all other defaulters put together ; had no doubt he was 
 an agent of the evil one ; compared the prisoner to the wolf 
 in the fold. 
 
 This closed the evidence for the prosecution. 
 
 Witnesses were now brought up in behalf of the prisoner. 
 
 Mrs. Soapsuds examined : Said she knew prisoner at the 
 bar. 
 
 Asked if she knew anything bad of him ? 
 
 Said no, but much good ; for if she took a hearty breakfast 
 of tea, bread and butter, ham and eggs, and then a single 
 glass, she could wash a whole forenoon. 
 
 Asked if she did not think this owing to the breakfast 
 rather than the glass ? 
 
 Said no, it was entirely owing to the whiskey. 
 
 Jim Crackwhip, deposed to the prisoner's good qualities, 
 said that with his help he would defy the weather. 
 
 Asked did the prisoner not run to his head ? 
 
 r*'- 
 
I'll 
 
 COMMON SENSE QUARTER SESSIONS. 59 
 
 No. He took~thc feet from him sometimes.' 
 
 Robert Anvil, blacksmith, alleged he should certainly melt, 
 working the bellows, but for the prisoner. His throat could 
 never hold out. 
 
 A person named Hirple here crawled to the witness box, 
 and was sworn. He had been several years the victim of 
 incurable rheumatism. 'I'he doctors had given him up, he 
 ])ut himself under the hand of the prisoner ; believed but for 
 his aid he would have died long ago. 
 
 David Gumboil, who from want of teeth, spoke very in- 
 distinctly, was understood to depose that he was seldom free 
 from the pangs of tooth-ache. The prisoner alone had 
 relieved his agonies. Knew no one like the prisoner for 
 making toddy. 
 
 Alex. Pintbottle examined : Said he was a publican and 
 knew the prisoner very well. He was his chief friend and a 
 most excellent character. He did not see how he could get 
 through the w^orld without him. 
 
 Jack Ketch, the hai\j,man, deposed that were it not for the 
 prisoner he believed he might hang himself with his Dwn 
 hemp. 
 
 Thomas Turnkey also declared he had good ground to re- 
 gard the prisoner as deserving credit for keeping him in his 
 situation. And Jacob Constable, of the police, affirmed that 
 were it not for the prisoner, Himself & Co., might as well 
 shut up. 
 
 The evidence being closed for the defence, lawyer Little- 
 drop, well-known at the bar, addressed the jury. 
 
 He begged they would recollect the ancient family to 
 which the prisoner belonged, the fashionable circles to which 
 he was admitted, and not rashly bring in a verdict against 
 him. He appealed to all that was kindly and ancient in the 
 usages which the prisoner had been the means of establish- 
 ing, and quoted from the most eminent men both in the 
 religious and political world in his favor. He asked if they 
 did not know how loyal the prisoner was and how much he 
 contributed to the stability of their beloved government ? 
 He asked what the revenue would be without the prisoner? 
 
 How men in business could get on ? How the rnalster 
 
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 60 
 
 READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 
 
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 and distiller could live without the prisoner ? How people 
 could get married or born, or christened without the pris- 
 oner ? He beseeched them to consider well, and then bear 
 in mind, a fact of im])ortance, that the prisoner was highly 
 
 useful in other respects; the material evidence of Mrs. S 
 
 should be considered. He need not refer to the other 
 numerous and respectable witnesses. He was sure that the 
 prisoner often helped to make people comfortable. He 
 would ask in spite of the sneers of the vulgar, was one so 
 essentia/ to i)ublic weal to be sacrificed to the ignorant pre- 
 judice of a few .sanguine enthusiasts? No! He hoped, he 
 confidently anticipated they would rise above such considerations , 
 perform a great duty to their country, and confer a boon on 
 mankind. He \v<-uid not detain them, it was not necessary, 
 considering the very intelligent jury he had the honor to 
 address. 
 
 The advocate for the crown next addressed the jury. 
 
 •He did not intend to reply to the speech that had just 
 been delivered by his learned friend. That, he relied, 
 answered for itself 
 
 He wished to direct attention to the very clear etndence 
 against the prisoner. The mctE: proved, placed it beyond 
 reasonable doubt ; the case was very complete. He simply 
 left it in the hands of the jury. 
 
 Judge Conscience summed up the evidence and delivered 
 an impressive charge, in which Lords Chemistry and 
 Experience expressed their full concurrence. 
 
 The jury having retired fo"* five minutes returned, bringing 
 in a unanimous verdict — Guii/rv 
 
 Chief Justice Concience then proceeded to pronounce sen- 
 tence. He said the crimes of the prisoner were capital in 
 their nature, and in his case aggravated by horrid perjury and 
 systematic deliberateness. 'J'he jury had not recommended 
 him to mercy. He could not av.-ard less than the highest 
 sentence of the law. 
 
 His Lordship then addressing the prisoner in a solemn 
 voice said ; — John Jkirleycorn, you have been found guilty of 
 crimes for which I hereby sentence you to be taken hence, 
 and within ^wenty-four hours to the place of execution, within 
 
TERSE TEMPERANCE TRUTHS. 
 
 61 
 
 the Meal Mill, there to be placed in the hands of the com- 
 mon miller and to be ground to flour, after which your bodily 
 substance shall be dispersed throughout the country, and 
 baked into bannocks by every house-wife in the land. At 
 the word bannocks the starved youngsters raised a shout and 
 the prisoner was removed to be dealt with according to the 
 sentence which seemed to give universal satisfaction. 
 
 TERSE TEMPERANCE TRUTHS. 
 
 1 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM REV. T. N. BURKE, O. P. 
 
 *' In this body of man God has enshrined a soul gifted 
 with the power of knowledge; and God is knowledge: gifted 
 with the power of love ; and God is love : gifted with 
 freedom of will ; and God is eternal and essential freedom. 
 And in this lies the grand nobility of man — the magnificent 
 })lace he fills in the creation of God. 
 
 "Wherever there is sin in man, that sin pulls him down 
 from the pedestal where God placed him ; and if this is so 
 of the spiritual vice of pride and ambition, what shall I say 
 of the one that utterly destroys in man every vestige of that 
 immortal and spiritual being that God created — the one 
 vice that comi)letely annihilates and extinguishes the light of 
 reason ; which completely destroys, for the time, every 
 emotion of the soul ; and that so robs man of his freedom 
 as to make him not only a slave but a hel[)less slave ? That 
 vice is the vice of drunkenness. It destroys the natural 
 nobility and perfection, aye, and the very nature of man. 
 It is a sin not only against God, but against man, not only 
 against grace but against nature ; not only against the 
 divinity which ought to be in us, but against the humanity 
 that is in us. In what consists our human nature ? It 
 consists in our power of thinking, of loving, and of acting 
 freely. Take away this from a man, and I defy you to tell 
 me what vestige of human nature remains in him, for a man 
 is made soul as well as body. Take away the soul and you 
 have destroyed his humanity. For instance, if you saw a 
 
 
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 Ski 
 
 I'M 
 
62 
 
 READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 
 
 m$ir 
 
 it 
 
 dead body lying there before you, stiff, cold and stark, you 
 would not say it was a man. You would say it was the 
 remains of a man. The moment you take away the soul 
 nothing is left but the remains of a man. And whpt does 
 the remains of a man mean ? A mass of putrifying, rotten 
 earth. 
 
 " Now every sin that the devil can tempt us to commit — 
 even though we may do it, or fall into it — no matter what it 
 is, it still leaves us men. The proud man, with all his pride, 
 is a man still. The revengeful man may swear that he will 
 have the heart's blood of the man who has insulted him ; 
 he still knows what he is about. The impure man, ravening 
 for his impurity — the vilest specimen of a man— /> still a 
 man. There is only one sinner through whom the devil 
 passes with so much power that he leaves him only the 
 remains of a man. A man goes into the saloon or store : 
 he drinks one glass — that only makes him good natured ; 
 he drinks another glass — that makes him loving, i.:;ady to 
 kiss everybody ; he drinks a third glass — that makes him 
 cross ; he drinks a fourth glass — then he begins to lisp and 
 ])eople don't know what he is talking about; he drinks a 
 fifth, and a sixth glass, and falls to the ground — the remains 
 of a man ! Will any man amongst us dare to call that 
 infamous wretch a man ? A man means the image of (Jod, 
 is there a man amongst you, having the hardihood to 
 blaspheme tlie eternal and Almighty Ciod, by saying that 
 that speechless, senseless, unreasoning, unloving, lifeless 
 thing there is the image of (lod ? 
 
 Look at him as he lies there. Reason with him. Ask 
 him to look at you, there is no light in his eyes. Did you 
 ever see a man stupidly drunk? Did you ever look into his 
 eyes? I remember, when I was a little boy, seeing, at 
 home, in the kitchen, in (lalway, hanging u]) on a hook 
 behind the kitchen door, a hake that my mother had bought 
 the day before. I was curious enough to go up and look at 
 its eyes. It had been dead about twelve hours. That 
 same day I saw a man drunk, lying in the gutter. Boy as I 
 was 1 said to myself, * the hake's eye again ! ' Ivift him up 
 on his feet, then let go your hands, and down he falls again. 
 
■ I 
 
 le remains 
 
 TERSE TEMPERANCE TRUTHS. 
 
 63 
 
 May I ask you — is he a man ? Why, if he was a man he 
 could speak, he could reason with you, he could see you 
 and know you if you were there. How can you call this 
 creature a man? This man has killed himself by 
 calling in the devil to help him in his infamous suicide. 
 And remember, that we may insult the Almighty God not 
 only as the author of our redemi)tion and of our 
 sanctification, but we may also insult him as the author of 
 our nature. I say that when God made us, He gave us 
 soul and body together, in all the activity of their powers. 
 The man that annihilates his soul for a single instant, 
 commits an outrage against the God that has made him, as 
 the author of his nature. 
 
 "I might dwell upon this subject. There is no evil so 
 great as that which destroys, even for a time, the integrity of 
 our nature ; because it destroys the possibility of grace. 
 
 " Remember, when a man falls from his manhood, he has 
 nothing to fall to except brutality. In the steps of creation 
 you mount from the rocks to the tree, from the tree to the 
 brute, from the brute to the man, from the man to the angel. 
 If a man makes a step upwards, it must be towards the 
 angel. If a man, on the the other hand, falls from his 
 humanity, the only level he can find is that of the brute. 
 And this is the meaning of the words of Scripture : ' Man, 
 when he was in honor, lo3t his intellect : he has been 
 compared to the senseless brutes.' 
 
 " If, then, the image of the Lord in man be intelligence — • 
 in the heart — and in the will — I say this man is no man. 
 He is a standing reproach to our humanity. He is a deeper 
 and bitterer degradation to us even than the absurd theory 
 of Darwin, the English philosopher, who tells us that we are 
 descended from the apes. 1 would rather consider my 
 father an ape than see him lying in the kennel, a drunken 
 man. 
 
 " Unfortunately, he falls below the level of the brute. I 
 would not insult (jne of God's creatures bv comi)aring them 
 to a drunken man. ^Vhat right have w We have a right 
 
 to take them to the slaughter-house, and i)Ut them to death, 
 but no right to insult them or to degrade in any degree the 
 
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 t lil-il 
 
 64 
 
 READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 
 
 huiT.blest creature that crawls upon the earth. I would not 
 insult any such by comparing them to a drunken man. 
 Why? Because that poor creature, or four-footed dumb 
 beast, you can lead into the slaughter-house, or put into the 
 shafts to draw us around, or put into our service at any time 
 of day or night ; and you find him such as Almighty God 
 made him, with every faculty that God has given him. But 
 the drunkard is not as Almighty God made him ; therefore, 
 not equal to the brute. Such a person has eased to be a 
 man, and falls below and beneath the level of the brute. 
 The brute can give forth signs of pleasure, sorrow, or pain; the 
 drunkard cannot. The brute can give intelligent signs, by 
 the law of nature, to his fellow-beasts in the field; the 
 drunken man cannot converse with his fellow-man. The 
 brute can walk and labor ; the drunken man cannot do one 
 or the other. How dare any one of us compare him to the 
 brute ? Now, my friends, I ask you is not this a great evil ? 
 And is not its remedy a great blessing ? " 
 
 THE STYLES OF DRUNKENESS. 
 
 '■!• f 
 
 A temperance paper, published in the South, classifies, 
 after a new method, the various styles of drunkenness now 
 prevailing. This classification is made on the peculiar 
 characteristics manifested by different men when in a state 
 of intoxication. Spirituous licjuors, when taken in consider- 
 abte quantities, exhibit the man, and especially bring to 
 notice his distinctive, the worst points or traits of his nature. 
 The classification made by the Organ is somewhat after the 
 following style : 
 
 1. Monkey drnnk, wherein a man grins, makes all sorts of 
 grimaces, leajis or dances, looks silly, and thinks himself well 
 rewarded if he can l)ut excite the laughter of his fellows. 
 
 2. Bear drnnk, when he becomes sulky, growls, mutters 
 and grumbles at everything and everybody. Sometimes 
 wants to put his huge arms around you or lay his hands ui)on 
 you, and would fain hug or paw you as would a bear ; then 
 
4"^ 
 
 THE STYLES OF DRUNKENNESS. 
 
 G5 
 
 looks sleepy, walks sluggislily. and finally becomes so bearish 
 that nothing but a fight will satisfy him. 
 
 3. T/^vr driink^ when, in his own estimation, he can 
 wrestle with Ajax, fight with Samson, and jumj) over the 
 moon. His eyes flash ^v^th a vengeance that nothing but 
 blood can satisfy. "Fhis unfortunate generally winds up his 
 drunk by abusing his wife and children, and (juarrelling with 
 his best neighbors and friends. 
 
 4. Hog drunk, when he rolls in the mud and filth ; when 
 the ditch or sewer is as good a couch to him as a feather 
 bed, and when he grunts and whines for more drink as swine 
 do for more swill. 
 
 5. Dog drunk, when he snaps and snarls, shows his teeth, 
 runs this way and that way, and betokens madness to such 
 an extent as to suggest the necessity of a straight jacket, or 
 of knocking him on the head to prevent the s])read of hydro- 
 phopia. 
 
 6. Hound drunk, when he wliincs and weeps, woukl grasj) 
 your hand, would lean upon you, beslaver you in the excess 
 of his love. He loves you very much, says you are his best 
 and dearest friend, would fight for you, risk his life for you, 
 do anything for you. Whiskey seems to have softened his 
 brain, and made a comi)lete fool of him, ])rovided he were 
 not a fool before. 
 
 7. Owl drunk, in whicli tlic unfortunate creature is fain to 
 suppose that the wisdom of the world centres in himself 
 He knows it all, can bear no contradictions, pities the ignor- 
 ance of all contradictors, and looks on them with ineffable 
 contempt and disgust. You must not differ with Iiim in 
 ))olitics, or law, or religion, commerce or manulactures. \'ou 
 must not differ with him in anytiiing. for he knows it all, and 
 all al)out it. 'i'hen again, he is the richest man in all the 
 country, has the best farm or house, is doing the best busi- 
 ness, has the loveliest wife and the smartest children, the 
 finest horses, the fiercest dogs and the best of everything else 
 worth having, that can be found anywhere or among any 
 people on the face of the earth. There is nothing to be 
 compared to him or to his, and if you dispute it you make a 
 mortal enemy. You cannot teach him anything* Solomon 
 
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 III 
 
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 66 
 
 READINGS AND RFXITATIONS. 
 
 if 
 
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 ! 
 
 was a mere child to him, and all others whom the world has 
 esteemed as wise and great are, in his estimation, mere waifs 
 on the current of time, and not to be compared with his 
 august self The only way to manage such is to let them 
 alone severally, pay no attention to them, which, perhaps, is 
 the greatest mortification to which you can subject them to. 
 
 8. Fox drunk, whom whiskey makes smart, cunning, 
 crafty, ready to utter and swear to the broadest contradictions, 
 always ready to trade, to run a race, swap horses, or offer 
 bets upon anything or in any sum. 
 
 These are the classes in which the Origan categorizes 
 drunkards. We have given the classes and the substance of 
 the remarks thereupon, not, however, in the precise language 
 of the Organ. 
 
 May there not be added to tlie above another class, which, 
 for the sake of uniformity, may be styled the 
 
 .Donkey drunk, wherein he looks dull, stu])id, silly, sleepy; 
 his lips hang down and his eye rolls expressionless, he moves 
 in a slow, tottering, irregular gait, and disgusts every decent 
 man with his stui)id nonsense — is a laughing-stock for silly 
 and ill-mannered boys, and the shame of his family and 
 friends. ? 
 
 'J'he classification given above is, we must confess, more 
 forcible than classical, and more pointed than elegant, and 
 the point can easily be seen. 
 
 "SK;N if VOU DARE!" 
 
 Farmer Clark galloped uj) to his Foreman one day, 
 
 And he said, with a blustering air, 
 " Tliese temperance preachers have come here again, 
 
 J)Ut — ' you sign the pledge if you dare !' 
 
 " I hold tiiat good ale is a very good thing, 
 And the hard workingmnn needs " a dro})," 
 
 So, whoever shall sign this ridiculous pledge, 
 in my service no longer shall stoJ> / 
 
 ll^^ 
 
i 
 
 SIGN IF YOU DARE, 
 
 C7 
 
 What need for a man with a grain of good sense, 
 
 To take oath not a drop he will touch ? 
 No, Barton ! be wise — take a glass when you please. 
 
 You can surely refrain from too much /" 
 
 " Well dear sir" then said James, you ought to know best, 
 
 I don't want so, to act like a fool — 
 But I had an idea, 'twould be better for me 
 
 If I followed the temperance rule ! 
 
 To a certain extent I agree, sir, with you, 
 
 I confess I am fond of a ' drop,' 
 But, where there is plenty, we poor thirsty souls 
 
 Cannot always tell just 7vhere to stop ! 
 
 Mr. Clark was a stout, wealthy yeoman of York, 
 
 \'e/y fond of " good living" was he, 
 With i red^ rather bloated^ but good-natured face, 
 
 As kind as kind-hearted could be. 
 
 But how could he sanction the tempera ucc cause, 
 
 Which proclaimed his indidi^euce a siu ? 
 To ^ feast he would always contribute hh pound — 
 
 To the temperance cause, not a pin ! 
 
 While talking with Barton, the clergyman came. 
 
 And he said, in a kind, earnest tone — 
 " Don't you think. Farmer Clark, 'twould be better for you 
 
 In this matter — to leave men alone ? • 
 
 " 'Tis the workingman's safeguard, I tannot but think' 
 
 I wish you could think so as well, 
 Intemperance ruins its thousands each year, 
 
 As statistics but too plainly tell." 
 
 " No, no, ! Mr. Ward, I don't see things like you, 
 
 We farmers are fond of 'good cheer,' 
 And I call it one of the Lord's blessed gifts, 
 
 No one's hurt by a drop of good Beer. 
 
 II 
 
 
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 READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 
 
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 Who gave us the barley and the beautiful hops ? 
 
 Why, God — for the wisest of ends — 
 And I call it going against Him, I do, 
 
 To despise anything that he sends ! 
 
 " Partly right, partly wrong, so replied Mr. Ward, 
 God's mercies we should not despise — 
 
 But the same thing is viewed in a different light, 
 As 'tis looked at with different eyes. 
 
 'Tis our duty as christians, to labour and strive 
 
 To do all the good tlidt we can — 
 So I bid you beware how you fight against God, , 
 
 By opposing the temperance plan." 
 
 *' No doubt there is truth, sir, in all you advance, 
 
 I can't answer your arguments fine. 
 But, whatever's the consequence, I am content, 
 
 My men — I repeat it — shan't sign !" 
 
 A "Good bye, Mr. Ward,"' further reasoning stopped; 
 
 Mr. Clark in his home we next see. 
 The dinner was ready — so, calling his son, 
 
 *' Come here, Harry lad, drink with me ! " 
 
 Get used to a glass of good stuff, while you're young. 
 And then — when you're grown to a man. 
 
 You wont get 'knocked over,' like other soft fools. 
 Don't you think mine a capital plan?" 
 
 His mother's remonstrance was urged all in vain, 
 vShe looked on licr darling with sorrow. 
 
 And thought — " Oh ! if this is my Harry to-day, 
 Ah ! what may his fate be to-morrow ?" 
 
 Ten years have elapsed since this little event, 
 
 'Tis the close of a fine summer's day : 
 A villager came to his home once again, 
 
 After having for years be^n away. 
 
SIGN IF YOU DARE. 
 
 Gl) 
 
 He found all commotion, and bustle, and stir, 
 
 He was asked if ' the news' he had heard ? 
 " What news?" "Why, young Clark had been killed in a fight 
 
 Struck down, nor since spoken a word." 
 
 " But how did it happen ? and who was the man ?" 
 
 " Why, Will Barton, a lad you know well ; 
 At the 'Cross Keys,' this morning, they fiuarrelled and fought, 
 
 And Clark's dead! that is all I can tell." 
 
 I 
 
 ^'1 
 
 *'I remember. 'Tis now about ten years ago. 
 
 Squire Clark would not let Barton sign. 
 Or he and his son would have taken the pledge 
 
 Not to drink strong beer, spirits, or wine. 
 
 ' Whatever the consequence, I am content,' 
 
 Said the Squire 'let it rest ujjon me ;' 
 And now a retributive Providence sends 
 
 This terrible stroke — don't you see ? " 
 
 "/was one who would sipi — it cost me my place, 
 
 And I hardly dared tell my dear wife. 
 But she said I did right, and bade me cheer up. 
 
 That dark day was the best in my life. 
 
 At the Grange all was sadness too deep to describe — - 
 
 The squire I saw pacing the room. 
 Incoherent expressions escaped from his lips, 
 
 And his brow was all clouded in gloom. 
 
 " That his son should have done it ! " he constantly sold, 
 
 " My sin has at last found me out, 
 Por if I3arton and Willie had both signed the pledge 
 
 This would not have happened — no doubt. 
 
 Barton sees it all too, and he cursed me to-day. 
 
 Just after his son had killed mine ! 
 And he says, ' It my son at the gallows is hung, 
 
 Farmer Clark — all the fault will be thine.' 
 
 
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 70 
 
 READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 
 
 Ah, yes, ! my poor Harry, I taught you to drink, 
 Your death may be well charged on me, 
 
 And your poor mother, too, is heart-broken with grief; 
 Too late now my error I see. 
 
 Barton's home, after this, I will not depict, 
 
 Just now he was drunk and asleep ; 
 His son charged with murder, his wife worn to death, 
 
 In her efforts her loved home to keep. 
 
 But the furniture all had been sold to pay rent, 
 There seemed none now to pity or save ; 
 
 And the next bitter grief for his Mary, may be 
 To weep at a poor drunkard's grave. 
 
 Just a word ere I close, to both masters and men, 
 ' Sign the pledge,' I entreat, young and old — 
 
 It may save you much sorrow, and yield you much joy, 
 x\nd be better than thousands of gold. 
 
 Beware of beginnings, avoid the first step 
 In the path that you know to be wrong. 
 
 Or temptations will thicken the further you go. 
 And ruin o'erwhelm you ere long. 
 
 Always dare to do right, follow conscience and God, 
 
 And of tendencies carefully think. 
 Shun evil beginnings, kee}) free of the dread, 
 
 The terrible doings of drink. 
 
 i 
 
 [The four following pieces make one reading.] 
 HISTORY OF A DISTILLERY. 
 
 What if the history of a distillery could be written out — 
 so much rum for medicine of real value ; so much for the 
 parts of real value. That would be one drop, I suppose, 
 taken out and shaken from the distillery. Then so i\iiich 
 
I 
 
 WESI-EY ON THE TRAFFIC. 
 
 71 
 
 rum sold to the Indians, to excite them to scalp one another; 
 so much sent to the Africans to be changed into slaves to 
 rot in Cuba and Ikazil ; so much sent to the heathens in 
 Asia, and to the Islands of the ocean; and so much used at 
 home. Then if the tale of every drop could be written out 
 — so much ])ain, so much redness of eyes, so much diminu- 
 tion of i)roductive i)()wer in man ; so many houses burnt, 
 ships foundered, and railway trains dashed to j^ieces ; so 
 many lives lost ; so many widows made, doubly widows be- 
 cause their husbands still liv^e ; so many orphans — their 
 fathers yet living, long dying on the earth — what a tale it 
 would be ! Imagine that all the persons who had suffered 
 from torments engendered by that i)lague-spot came together 
 and sat on the ridge-pole and roof, and filled up the large 
 hall of that distillery, and occujjied the streets and lanes 
 about it, and told their tales of drunkenness, rol)bery, un- 
 chastity, and murder, written on their faces and foreheads, 
 What a story it would be, the fact stranger than fiction ! 
 
 WESLEY ON THE I'RAFFIC, &c. 
 
 Neither may we gain by hurting our neighbor in his ])ody. 
 Therefore we may not sell anything which tends to impair 
 health. Such is eminently all that li(|uid fire, commonly 
 called drams, or spirituous li([uors. It is true these may 
 have place in medicines ; they may be of use in some 
 bodily disorder (although there would rarely be occasion for 
 them were it not for the unskilfulness of the ])ractitioner). 
 Therefore such as prepare and sell them only for this end, 
 may keep their conscience clear. But who are they ? Who 
 prepare them only for this end ? Do you know ten sucli 
 distilleries in England ? Then excuse these. But all who 
 sell them in- the comnion way, to any that will buy, are 
 poisoners-general. They murder his Majesty's subjects by 
 wholesale, neither do they ever pity or spare. They drive 
 them to hell like sheep ; and what is their gain ? Is it not 
 the blood of these men ? Who, then, would envy their 
 
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 72 
 
 READINGS AND RFXITATIONS. 
 
 large estates and sumptuous ])alaces ? A curse is in the 
 midst of them ; the curse of God cleaves to the stones, the 
 timber, the furniture of them. The curse of God is in their 
 gardens, their walks, their groves — a fire that burns to the 
 nethermost hell. IJlood, blood is there ; the foundation, the 
 floor, the walls, the roof, are stained with bood ! And canst 
 thou hojje, O tliou man of blood, though thou art " clothed 
 in scarlet and fine linen, and farest sumi)tuously every day" 
 • — canst thou hope to deliver down the fields of blood to the 
 third generation ? Not so ; for there is a God in heaven, 
 therefore thy name shall be rooted out. Like as those 
 whom thou hast destroyed, body and soul, " thy memorial 
 shall ])erish with thee." 
 This is dear-bought gain. 
 
 * 
 
 * 
 
 THRILLING INCIDENT. 
 
 At a temperance meeting in Philadelphia, some years ago, 
 a learned clerg\'man spoke in favor of wine as a drink, de- 
 monstrating it (juite to his own satisfaction to be Scriptural, 
 gentlemanly and healthful. When the clergyman sat down, 
 a plain, elderly man arose, and asked the liberty of saymg a 
 few words. Permission being granted, he spoke as follows : 
 
 " A young friend of mine," said he, " who had long been 
 intemperate, was prevailed on, to the joy of his friends, to 
 take the pledge of entire abstinence from all that could in- 
 toxicate. He kept his ])ledge faithfully for some time, 
 though the struggle with his habit was fearful, till one even- 
 ing, in a social party, glasses of Avine were handed around. 
 They came to a clergyman jDresent, who took a glass, saying 
 a few words in vindication of the practice. ' Well,' thought 
 the young man, ' if clergymen can take wine and justify it 
 so well, why not I ?' So he took a glass. It instantly re- 
 kindled his fiery and slumbering api)etite, and after a rapid 
 downward course, he died of delirium tremens — a raving 
 madman !" The old man paused for utterance, and was 
 just able to add — " That young man was my only son, and 
 the clergyman was the Reverend Doctor who has just ad- 
 dressed the assembly." 
 
THE FIVE CRADLES. 
 
 73 
 
 ANOTHER DYING MAN. 
 
 A man who had been furnished by his neighbor with the 
 means of destruction, and been brought by it to the verge 
 of the grave, w.\s visited in his last moments, by the author 
 of his ruin, who asked him if he remembered him. The 
 dying man, forgetting his struggle with the king of terrors, said 
 " Yes, I remember you, and I remember your store, where I 
 formed the habit which has ruined me for this world and the 
 next. And when I am dead and gone, and you come and 
 take from my widow and fatherless children the shattered re- 
 mains of my property to pay my rum debts, they too will 
 remember you." And he added, as they were both members 
 of the same church, " Yes, brother, we shall all remember 
 you to all eternity." 
 
 i 
 
 [The four following pieces make one reading.] 
 THE FIVE CRADLES. 
 
 A man who had drank too much, returned home 
 one night in an intermediate state. This is to say, 
 he was drunk, but perfectly conscious of his unfortunate 
 situation. Knowing that his wife was asleep, he de- 
 cided to attempt gaining his bed without disturbing 
 her, and by sleeping off his inebriation conceal the fact from 
 her altogether. He reached the door of his room without 
 disturbing her, and after ruminating a few moments on the 
 matter, he thought if he could reach the bedpost, and hold 
 on to it while he slipped off his apparel the feat would be 
 easily accomplished. 
 
 Unfortunately for his scheme, a cradle stood in a direct 
 line with the bedpost, about the middle of the floor. Of 
 course when his shins came in contact with the aforesaid 
 piece of furniture, he pitched over it with a perfect loose- 
 ness ; and upon gaining an erect position, ere an equilibrium 
 
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 74: 
 
 READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 
 
 was established, he went over it backwards, in an equally 
 summary manner. 
 
 Again he struggled to his feet, and went head-foremost 
 over some piece of furniture. 
 
 At length, with the fifth fall, his patience became ex- 
 hausted, and the ob'tacle was yet to be overcome. 
 
 In desjieration he cried out to his sleeping partner, 
 " Wife, wife ! how many cradles have you got in the house ? 
 I've fallen over five and here's another before me !" 
 
 " THIS HARD LUMP !" 
 
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 " Halloo, Jack ! Halloo ! Won't you have a glass this 
 cold morning ?" cried a bloated-looking tavern-keeper to a 
 jolly Jack Tar who was smartly stepping along the road. 
 
 Jack had formerly been a hard drinker, and had spent 
 many a bright sovereign in the tavern he was now passing, 
 but about a year ago he had signed the Temperance 
 pledge. 
 
 No, landlord, no ! I can't drink ; I've got a /lard lump 
 at my side. (As the witty sailor said .hese words he pressed 
 his hand against his side, adding.) " Oh, this hard lump r 
 
 '' It's all through leaving off grog," replied the land- 
 lord ; " some good drink will take your lump away. If you 
 are fool enough to keep on teetotal, your lump will get big- 
 ger, and very likely you'll be having a hard lump at your 
 other side." 
 
 " True ! true !" with a hearty laugh, responded the 
 merry Tar, as he briskly drew out a bag of gold fiom his 
 side-pocket, and held it up to the publican's gaze : " This is 
 my hard lumj). You say truly, that if I drink, my lump 
 will go away, and that if I stick to teetotal I shall have a 
 bigger lump; good-l)ye to you. God helping me, you won't 
 catch me in your net again." 
 
TRY, JOHN, TRY. 
 
 75 
 
 TRY, JOHN ! TRY. 
 
 Try, John ; try John ; from temptation fly, John ; 
 l)runken Joe and idle Ned — pass such comrades by, John. 
 Shun the tempting tavern door, 
 
 Set not foot within, John ; 
 Each old chum avoid, though dear, 
 
 That would lure to sin, John. 
 Every thing and every place 
 
 That tends to lead astray, John, 
 Give them up, renounce them all, 
 From this very day, John. 
 
 Try, John ; try John ; I will tell you why, John, — 
 He who fights 'gainst what is bad, will conc^uer by-and-by, 
 John. 
 
 J f with all your powers you strive 
 With your habits wrong, John, 
 While they daily weaker grow. 
 
 You will grow more strong, John. 
 What if many jest and scoff 
 
 JJecause you hate the sin, John, 
 Surely if they laugh that lose. 
 They may smile that win, John. 
 
 Try, John ; try, John ; wherefore do you sigh, John ? 
 " I'm afraid 1 shan't succeed" — is this what you reply, John? 
 Nonsense, man ! such coward fear 
 
 Never won a fight, John ; 
 Let's have faith and courage too, 
 
 In what is true and right, John. 
 Like the little barking curs 
 
 That love to snarl and scold, John, 
 Evil habits soon will fly 
 
 When we're stern and bold, John. 
 
 Try, John ; try, John ; think, in days gone by, John, 
 Habits have been concjuered vile as those o'er which you 
 sigh, John. 
 
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 7G READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 
 
 How this idle loon became 
 
 An energetic man, John ; 
 How that hoary, hopeless sot 
 
 Loathed the pipe and pot, John, 
 Mark their upward histories well, 
 
 Histories stern and true, John, 
 Teaching you what you may be, 
 
 How you may dare and do, John. 
 
 Try, John ; try John; were that mother nigh, John. 
 Who her dear, her darling boy, once did proudly eye, John, 
 How that loving heart would mourn 
 
 O'er the wretched change, John, 
 Turn her from the sight away — 
 
 Sight so sad and strange, John. 
 Shall a vile degrading sin 
 
 Keep you unforgiven, John, 
 Not alone from peace and joy. 
 
 But from her and heaven, John ? 
 
 Try, John ; try John ; look with faith on high, John ; 
 You've a father and a Friend, mighty, loving, nigh, John. 
 Go and tell him you repent. 
 Of your evil ways, John ; 
 Pray for help and strength to live 
 
 Happier, holier days, John. 
 Prayer and effort — these combined, 
 
 All success ensures, John ; 
 And with joy and i)eace and life, 
 Victory shall be yours, John. 
 
 S. W. P. 
 
 WORK WITHOUT BP:ER 
 
 I've work'd in the heat, and I've work'd in the cold, 
 I've work'd witli the young, and I've worked with the old, 
 I've work'd very late, and I've work'd very soon, 
 I've work'd by the sun, and I've work'd l)y the moon, 
 But I'm sure I can tell you without any fear, 
 I c;vn work very well without any beer. 
 
SANCTIFICATION AND PURIFICATION. 77 
 
 I've work'd far from home, and I've work'd rather nigh, 
 I've work'd in the wet and I've work'd in the dry, 
 I've work'd amongst corn, and I've work'd amongst hay, 
 I've Avork'd by the piece, and I've work'd by the day, 
 And I'm sure I can tell you without any fear, 
 I can work very well without any beer. 
 
 I've work'd amongst lime, and I've work'd amongst chalk, 
 I've work'd amongst still folks, and those that could talk, 
 I've work'd amongst iron, and I've work'd amongst wood, 
 I've work'd amongst bad, and I've work'd amongst good, 
 But wherever I go, there's nothing I fear. 
 So much as the foolish, made foolish by beer. 
 
 I've wrote and I've read, I've summ'd and I've talk'd, 
 I've been out on pleasure, with friends I have walk'd, 
 liut never, no never, no use could I see, 
 Of taking strong drink, so hurtful to me ; 
 Thus I am sure I can tell you without any fear. 
 That things can be managed without any beer. 
 
 T. Martin. 
 
 n4 
 
 VI4 
 
 SANCTIFICATION AND PROHIBITION. 
 
 (From the Christian Guardian.) 
 
 Is there a man of Cod to be found, who in his zeal for 
 Cod and "good will to man," prefers to have the drink 
 traffic remain in operation as at the present time ? Can we 
 imagine a pious Christian, who, for the glory of Cicd and for 
 the best interest of the world, desires to have the licensed 
 traffic continued ? Who can regard it i:;ood and ri^ht that 
 Covernment should draw revenue from agency of ruin; 
 should be supported — in whole or in part — by ministering to 
 depravity and vice ? Who, seeing the dire doing of the 
 demon drink, can still be found to favor letting the miner 
 run uncontrolled or only a little hampered, yet licensed by 
 law? 
 
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 78 
 
 READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 
 
 Rather who, influenced by love of God and love to man, 
 but earnestly desires to have this wretched state of affairs 
 altered for a better ? 
 
 Being in the strong drink trade is not even by its own 
 supporters set down as favorable to piety. By the very 
 anti-temperance man no great "devotedness to God" is 
 claimed for any party therein. By the community of the 
 wise and good it is counted an ungodly business. 
 
 Although the drinking is scarcely regarded as quite so 
 profane as the dealing, yet neither can one or other claim 
 ** promise of the life that now is, or that which is to come." 
 Neither can one or other be counted amongst the things 
 pertaining to life or godliness. AVhile even at first sight — or 
 on mature investigation — ])urity of heart does not seem in 
 the least incompatible with total abstinence doctrine and 
 practice. 
 
 In perfect freedom from intoxication there is nothing 
 inconsistent with Christian sanctity, nothing out of harmony 
 with " holiness to the Lord." 
 
 Prayerful and careful examination of the various bearings 
 of the drinking practices and license system is not likely to 
 result in love to have these things so. The tendency of 
 intoxicants to dull Christian sensibility is amply made out. 
 Who, with enlightenment of mind, but must discover, there 
 is nothing in strong drink to i)romote true piety? there is 
 vast of the adverse. 
 
 Any measure of the biting and stinging of the serpent and 
 adder cannot conduce to spiritual, any more than bodily 
 health ; but eventually exerts a l)enumbing influence 
 reaching even to the soul. Alcohol may stimulate to 
 abnormal action, but soon its delett-'rioi.s reactionary effect 
 on body and mind becomes minife^t. The highest 
 attainments in Cliristian character connect with, "touch not, 
 taste not, handle not." Evidently total abstinence and 
 perfect i)rohibition favor entire santification. How should 
 there then be a truly sanctified Christian, or one earnestly 
 seeking to be so, yet not i)rei)ared to lavor the i)urity- 
 favoring practice and prohibitory law. — Sj)eficc, 
 
PESTS AND PURIFICATION. 79 
 
 PESTS AND PURIFICATION. 
 
 Of the various aspects in which intemperance may be 
 viewed, there is none more a])t or notable than that of deadly 
 I)oison — the words employed need not be taken as figurative 
 — drunkenness is at once the crime, the curse, the pest, and 
 the poison of the individual or the community brought 
 under its power. The ])age of inspiration bears its burning 
 condemnation, and also forcibly represents its effects as the 
 ])oisonous sting of the adder. 
 
 Some other of the old and awful plagues of nations 
 re-appearing excite alarm, and aroi^se men at once to devise 
 ])rccautionary measures — yet no other has ever threatened or 
 accomplished so great destruction of the human race. None 
 else so hideously pestiferous even to the body, and none in 
 any great measure at all leading to the soul. In some of 
 the most dreadful deaths by plague, pestilence, war and 
 limine on record, mind and morality seemed all but intact, 
 even in the last moments. Not so in this more *' noisome 
 pestilence^'' even the putrid body but shadows forth faintly 
 the pollution of the deeper nature, involving the soul-plague 
 and more terrible death. Then the fearfully contagious 
 nature of this, beyond all other, ere even the unsusi)ecting 
 victim is aware, the contaminated blood is rapidly coursing — 
 the infatuating infection has prevailed. 
 
 Purification is not restriction of the pest trade to certain 
 houses or hours and confining the infectious dealing to men 
 of a so-called respectable class. — No measure of ])urification 
 is hopeful, short of clearing out the whole pestilential agency. 
 \{ the man who drains a swamj) is a benefactor, then the 
 man who saturates the country with pestiferous drink, and so 
 causes to rise stagnant in the human body the dull waters of 
 disease, is a deadly ])est. Tet the pitiful resolutely 
 denounce until the i)itiless desist. 
 
 'I'he astonishment, however, is to find immense 
 manufactories of jjestilence ])ermilted in the midst of a 
 (would be counted) wise people, pre^jaring the infection — 
 
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80 
 
 READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 
 
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 numerous establishments also licensed by law for its 
 distribution — and yet more — the business patronized by a 
 people professedly Christian ; and, then, splendidly fitted du 
 houses to deal it out, and dealers calling the accursed drinks 
 by attractive names the more to entice the unwary. 
 
 Those who engage in dispensing the pestiferous merchan- 
 dise are manifestly guilty — those who assist to perpetuate it 
 are of the party ; and those who refuse to exert their influence 
 to extirpate the pest are not innocent. Benevolence demands 
 counteracting effort toward purification, speedily to end the 
 disastrous traffic. 
 
 I ' I 
 
 ORGANIZATIONS AND ACTS. 
 
 BY JACOB SPENCE. 
 
 The routine proceedings of societies, divisions, lodges, 
 and temples, properly conducted, are very excellent as a 
 power for good. The well-ordered company of brothers and 
 sisters, where the proceedings are liarmonious and pleasant, 
 is no doubt a very enjoyable affair ; and as such the regular 
 meeting answers a most valuable pur})ose. Here a happy 
 employment of time is conducive also, to maturing right 
 feelings and fortifying riglit resolutions. Such meetings are, 
 moreover, a strong attractive power — calculated to bring to- 
 gether, unite and strengthen anti-drunkenness workers. 
 These inside operations ought, however, to be regarded more 
 than they are at present, as a means of riccumulated force 
 for outside effort. 
 
 The organization of a body is or ought to be adapted for 
 work, not merely or chiefly, for performing the interior 
 mavements needful to existence; but more for exerting 
 exterior power, beneficial to those around, so acting as to 
 accomplish advantage beyond its own own internally enjoyed 
 benefit. Where such organizations exist the neighbourhood 
 ought to be made fiivorably to feel its presence. 
 
 Moving and seconding motions, speech-making, support- 
 
ORGANISATION AND ACTS. 
 
 81 
 
 IS merchan- 
 erpetuate it 
 ;ir influence 
 :;e demands 
 to end the 
 
 ns, lodges, 
 client as a 
 others and 
 d pleasant, 
 the regular 
 e a happy 
 iring right 
 etings are, 
 3 bring to- 
 workers. 
 rded more 
 ated force 
 
 dapted for 
 e interior 
 r exerting 
 ting as to 
 y enjoyed 
 )Ourhood 
 
 J, support- 
 
 ing and passing excellent resolutions ("carried unanimously") 
 and then almost counting them " carried'' into effect is all 
 very nice. It is well to move resolutions or make motions 
 espc. ially if they )nove and keej) in motion^ but it should not 
 be forgotten that in the abstract a motion when allow^ed to 
 pass to rest, in fact, then and there ceases to exist as motion, 
 and in practice also the same is too often true. The resolu- 
 tion passed d.wA then " put" past can scarcely be in fairness 
 called carried (or only carried a very short way). A much 
 better idea of " carried" would be to have the resolve more 
 fully carried out — right out, and should effect more outside^ 
 not only the inward "taking action" but the outside work 
 performed by the living organization. 
 
 Suppose the resolutions to represent the Gospels; then 
 following the high example of the good book still — we want 
 " the Acts." No great account is given in the Scriptures of 
 many wordy resolutions carried in form. Let us have mate- 
 rial for improved history of the actions of the organizations, 
 not ever and anon a resolution and another "of the same" 
 carried, passed ; but, the acis of the Apostles, a true good 
 record of deeds accomplished. 
 
 In proper union and progress let us now move on to " the 
 acts," and then on to some good " Episdes," and still further, 
 Scripturally yet, we need more mighty Revelations of truth 
 than hitherto, -in fact, all the modes available for shedding 
 forth more light on the dark deeds, "They that be drunken 
 are — in the night" led by murky delusion to places and 
 deeds of cruelty. 
 
 More mighty, resolute, continuous, vigorous agitations is 
 the special duty of organizations. Such action should not 
 be looked upon as sujierseding Christianity. Surely no good 
 Christian can reasonably find fault with the work for being 
 after the best exami)le, nor can it be fiiirly regarded as a 
 ground of blame even should this effort seem ahead of some, 
 in other res|)ect:; amiable, ('hristian j)C()i)le. Rather may 
 such example and promjiling provoke them " to love and 
 good works." Let us have the acts. 
 
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 §2 
 
 READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 
 
 Life is real ! Life is earnest ! 
 
 And the grave is not its goal ; 
 Dust thoLi art, to dust returnest, 
 
 Was not spoken of the soul. 
 
 Not enjoyment, and not sorrow, 
 Is our destin'd end or way ; 
 
 But to act that each to-morrow 
 Finds us .l^irther than to-day. 
 
 I ii 1 1 
 
 
 STRENdir OK ALCOHOL. 
 
 No man is more valiant tlian [lie drinking man during his 
 periods of freedom, iiut when the evil spirit returns, it is 
 with seven others, and th(^; victim feels helpless. 
 
 A touching cnse is recorded \)y a skilful physician of large 
 practice, who was aj^pealed to by a young lady. 
 
 " I )octor, can't you do anything to save my fother ? He 
 has paroxysms of drinking insanity, not frecjuent, but terrible 
 while they last." The man was a well-to-do farmer, much 
 respected, and a man of ordinary good sense. 
 
 I'he doctor called u])on him ; found him sitting in his 
 ])orch at the end of a briglit summer day; all seemed peace. 
 Carefully the doctor led around to the subject, and was just 
 coining to the point, wlien the farmer interrupted him. 
 '' Doctor, allow me to ex])lain to you," and then the plain- 
 spoken man gave such a c:uidid history of the miseries and 
 woes of the drink mania, as ])erhaps no mere scientific man 
 could present, ending in the most heart-breaking tones, 
 " after all my knowing and seeing and feeling this woe and 
 wrath, I can't help it, you may think 1 ca// but I cannot^ 
 
 This miserable craving of diseased, exe/ted //erres, returned 
 in periodical paroxysms and wore out his afflicted life. 
 
 The sin, the evil, lay far back in the habit contracted 
 perhaps when he was young and strong; stirring u}) the 
 nerves with fierce stimulants and mistaking this excitement 
 for strength and vigotn\ It was the strength of the alcohol 
 
turns, It IS 
 
 THE LANDLORDS VOW. 
 
 83 
 
 rousing and laying hold of tlie nervous forces ; it was putting 
 himself in the power of a demon whose dire strength he did 
 not yet know. 
 
 Only when men begin to believe before the habit is formed 
 and the appetite engendered, that alcohol supi^lies no healthy 
 human nature, repairs no waste, and is dangerous in pro- 
 portion as it agreeable, then, and only tlicn, will there be hope. 
 
 Until then, let us labour to disi)el the delusion as to the 
 nature of the strength of strong drink. Alcohol is strong to 
 rouse, to bind, to lead ca})tive, to destroy ; too strong a 
 l)oison for evil, for any rational human being to recklessly 
 risk subjection to its dire control, 
 
 gjOh, that the unsuspecting, unwary, who tho gh'^essly, 
 while yet free, tamj^er with the decoying destroyer w( . M be 
 ivise before it be too late. 
 
 THE LANDLORD'S VOW. 
 
 V' 
 
 f, •! 
 
 BY MRS. HOLT. 
 
 Late one evening in December, there came a feeble knock 
 to our door, and I hastened to open it, half expecting to fma 
 some shivering ai)j)licant for relief. jNly investigations were 
 more than realized in finding little Nellie Perry, a child little 
 over three years old, the daughter of our nearest neighbour. 
 How she come there was a mystery I could not solve, for 
 poor Nellie had been an invalid for many a clay. But there 
 she stood in the darkness, shivering ; and as the lami)Hght 
 fell Ujjon her [jale face, I discovered an unnatural wildness 
 in her large black eyes, she seemed the victim of some 
 terrible spell. I lighted her into the room, and as I placed 
 her in the arm-chair, I tried to find out the cause of her visit. 
 Hut the child only stared wildly around the room, and not a 
 word came from her i)ale lips. 
 
 Just then a thought occurred to me. I called out in a 
 startled tone to my husband who was quietly dreaming upon 
 
 
84 
 
 READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 
 
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 the sofa, and he sprang up half bewildered, enquiring what 
 was the matter ? 
 
 " Go over to Perry's quick, John, for there is trouble 
 there," I said, pointing to the child seated by the fire. 
 
 He needed no second bidding, but hastily rushed out into 
 the darkness, murmuring significant threats of vengeance 
 upon the village landlord. 
 
 After his steps were no longer heard, I turned to see what 
 could be done for the frightened child. Ciently I took the 
 still trembling form in my arms, and tried to soothe her into 
 slumber ; making her understand that her mother and little 
 sister baby would be cared for. Then a sigh of relief came 
 from her quivering lips; soon she fell into a restless slumber, 
 
 " There has been some terrible scene enacted over at 
 Perry's," I said half aloud ; for I knew that no ordinary- 
 transaction would so bewilder poor little Nellie. I opened 
 the door and peered into the darkness. I heard the sound 
 of voices in the distance, and shortly a sleigh approached 
 and halted at our door. Mrs. Perry with her baby clasped 
 in her arms, was borne by my husband and a neighbour 
 into the house. 
 
 " Go for the doctor ; quick, Smith," said my husband ; 
 and the man jumped into the sleigh and drove off rapidly. 
 
 " The baby is seriously injured," said John, in answer to 
 my questions. I just got there in time to save both mother 
 and child from being murdered. In a moment more the 
 child would have been crushed beneath its father's heavy 
 feet. 
 
 Landlord Jones has accomplished his threat at last, poor 
 Perry is mad drunk. A faint cry from the wounded babe 
 came to our ears, and the pale mother lifted the thin shawl 
 from its face. I shall never forget the sight that met my 
 eyes as I looked upon the bruised and bloody face. The 
 wretch had seized the little one from its mother's arms 
 and dashed it on the hard floor. And just n., my husband 
 entered, had raised his heavy boot to silence its piteous 
 cries. 
 
 The doctor came^ but could do nothing for the little 
 sufferer. He went away with a sad look on his face. " The 
 
THE LANDI-ORD's VOW. 
 
 85 
 
 :iuiring what 
 
 ; is trouble 
 e fire. 
 
 hed out into 
 f vengeance 
 
 to see what 
 y I took the 
 )the her into 
 ler and little 
 f relief came 
 less slumber. 
 :ted over at 
 
 no ordinary- 
 ;. I opened 
 rd the sound 
 
 approached 
 3aby clasped 
 a neighbour 
 
 ly husband ; 
 e off rapidly, 
 in answer to 
 both mother 
 int more the 
 ither's heavy 
 
 at last, poor 
 ounded babe 
 le thin shawl 
 that met my 
 face. The 
 lother's arms 
 
 my husband 
 J its piteous 
 
 or the little 
 face. "The 
 
 tH^ 
 
 child will die," he said, and then I could detect a half- 
 hidden tear in his eyes. 
 
 All through the long night we watched by the little moan- 
 ing sufferer and the distracted mother, I attempted a word 
 of consolation, but my voice became hoarse and unnatural. 
 It was a sad, weary night. The light of morning had just 
 began to dawn, when the baby spirit took its flight. We 
 dressed the babe of one bright summer in spotless white for 
 the stillness of the grave. 
 
 Then our attention was called to little Nellie who had 
 just awakened with a sad rry. Her eyes were of the same 
 unnatural brightness. She looked wildly around the room, 
 but did not seem to recognize her mother. Reason had fled, 
 the child was an idiot. 
 
 When the father became sober, ;ve called him to look 
 upon his dead child. He wrung his hands, and without a 
 word, turned away in silent agony, rushed from the house to 
 the icy river, plunged into the cold deep water, and when 
 we saw that face again it was cold and dead. 
 
 Only a few words need be added in explanation. George 
 Perry had been a victim of drink for several years, spending 
 his money, destroying all he had in this world worth saving, 
 and blighting all that should be to them dearest in the pre- 
 sent enjoyment and future prospect by the fiery poison. 
 Poor Mrs. Perry had suffered as only a drunkard^ s 7uife caft 
 suffer. But brighter days had dawned at last. A Temper- 
 ance society had been formed, and her husband had been 
 induced to join. For a whole year he had faithfully kept 
 his vow, and happiness had come again into his humble 
 home. 
 
 But the landlord had made a terrible vow. That " at 
 whatever cost, even to that of his oum souVs futvre happi- 
 ness, he would have George Perry one of his customers 
 again."^ George resisted nobly for a time, and only fell when 
 a cunningly devised plan was executed to entrap him. 
 
 The cruel landlord, however, did not reap so great a 
 harvest as he anticipated, for only one evening did poor 
 George spend money at his bar, the next ended as already 
 narrated, 
 
 , ( 
 
 il 
 
86 
 
 READINGS AND RFXITATIONS. 
 
 The landlord knew the facts here recorded, but no sigh 
 of repentance he betrayed. No look of remorse is reported 
 as seen on his countenance. He, at least, once made a 
 sneering boast that (in regard to \)ooy George Perry) he had 
 kept the vow he had made, and i)oor widow Perry in her 
 sadness, thinks the drink business should not be licensed. 
 
 : 
 
 CARNAGE OF THE TRAFFIC. 
 
 Were a spirit to have lit upon our earth the morning after 
 the battle of Waterloo, and seen the ten thousand mangled 
 corpses there ; the decaj^itated bodies, the scattered limbs, 
 the dead horses ])iled in heaps, the horrid maniacs rushing 
 to and fro in terrible torture, the dying seeking for death and 
 not finding it, and crying for a drop of water to cool their 
 burning lips, surely he would have asked what demon from 
 the lowest i)it had done this horrid work. And when 
 learning it was \Vak, he would have said, " Let the nations 
 in all coming time, combine against it, and never more 
 suffer it to visit this terrestrial ball." 
 
 Ihit could he now view, gathered on one vast field, all the 
 carnage of Alcohol in a single year ; the mangled corpses, 
 the broken hearts, the brawls, the fights, the cruelties, the 
 suicides, the murders and manslaughters, the terrific 
 casualties on land and sea, the smashed cars and Avrecked 
 ships, the widespread conflagrations, pauperism in its rags, 
 and hunger gnawing the flesh for life ; maniacs, with delirium 
 trei/iens, rushing hither and thither in wild dismay to esca])c 
 from devils damned; idiots by thousands, with lolling 
 tongues and unmeaning motions ; a husband here, dragging 
 his Avife by the hair of her head, and a father there, dashing 
 out the brains of his child on the wall ; a grocer kicking the 
 weeping wife of the drunkard from liis store, and a drunken 
 woman on fire ; a young woman, destroyed by the drink, 
 jumping from a bridge into a cold death stream, and a young 
 man, fortune gone, applying a pistol to his head ; an aged 
 drunkard, into the pit, cursing God and damning his own 
 
DEATH OF ALKXANDEK. 
 
 87 
 
 soul ; murderers s\vInLi;in,L,^ from n thousand gallows ; 
 prostitution and ra])inc holding hell's revelry, and atheism 
 and l)lasi:)hemy, in scorn, and hate and malice, and revenge, 
 torturing their victims with remorse and despair; and should 
 he I)e t(>ld that the great agent of all this evil was licensed 
 by law. and liad been for an hundred years; that it shielded 
 itself behind the most solemn Constitutions, and ])lead the 
 right to move on in its work of deatli, though with crocodile 
 tears it lamented the follies and results of excess ; that even 
 ministers and churches upheld its i)0wer, and woman 
 introduced it to her nursery and her circles of gaiety and joy, 
 and the young and the old alike worshi])ped at its altars — 
 what would he think of this one s])irit of evil compared with 
 war, or flimine, or pestilence ? What of the people who 
 would u])hold and legalize it ? and what would he exclaim, 
 but, O curse of curses ! O, thou traffic, dyed in venom of 
 hell ! O ye i)eople, torn, and scathed, and peeled, when 
 will ye be wise ? — Rev. Dr. Marsh. 
 
 li 
 
 M'l 
 
 DEATH OF ALEXANDER. 
 
 When Alexander was at Babylon, after having spent a 
 whole night in carousing, a second feast was proposed to 
 him. He went accordingly, and there were twenty guests at 
 the table. Me drank the health of every person in the 
 company, and then pledged them severally. After this, 
 calling for Hercules' cup, (which held an incredil)le fjuantity,) 
 it was filled, when he poured it all down, drinking to a 
 Macedonian of the company, Proteas by name. He had no 
 sooner swallowed it than he fell upon the floor. 
 
 " Hero, then," crie^^ Seneca, describing the fiital effects of 
 drunkenr.ess, "the hero unconcjuered by the toils of prodigi- 
 ous marches, exposed to the dangers of sieges and combats, 
 to the most \'iolent extremes of heat and cold, here he lies, 
 subdued by his intemperance, struck to the earth by the 
 fatal cuj) of Hercules." hi this condition he was seized with 
 a fever, which, in a few days, terminated in death. No one. 
 
 
 ill 
 
88 
 
 READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 
 
 says Plutarch Arria, then susi)ected that Alexander was 
 poisoned; the true poison which brought him to his end 
 was wine, which has killed millions besides Alexander. 
 
 PROTECT NOT THE ENEMY. 
 
 Ye civil fathers ! while the foes 
 
 Of this destroyer seize their swords. 
 
 And Heaven's own hail is in the blows 
 They're de .nng, will ye cut the cord 
 
 That round the falling fiend they draw, 
 
 And o'er him hold your shield of law ? 
 
 And will ye give to man a bill, 
 
 Divorcing him from Heaven's high sway. 
 And while (jod says, " Thou shalt not kill," 
 
 Say ye, " for gold ye may — ye may ?" 
 
 O, holy God ! let light divine 
 
 Break forth more broadly from above. 
 
 Till we conform our laws to thine — 
 The perfect law of truth and love. 
 
 For truth and love alone can save . 
 
 The people from a ho}Deless grave. 
 
 A POOR INEBRIATE. 
 
 I've lost my all, I've come to you 
 'J'o help me ere it be too late ! 
 
 Your i)ity, friends, I ask, I seek 1 
 O save me now, for mercy's sake. 
 
 My frame is weak — my heart is sick — 
 I've suffered more than tongue can tell ; 
 
 Thoughts run apace ; they bring me back 
 To liome, to friends, where all was well, 
 
 »iS ■ 
 
WATER — DESCRIPTION. 
 
 I've drain'd the cup, I've revel'd long — 
 At IJacchus' shrine no more I'll meet, 
 
 My wife is dead, my children gone, 
 And now I have no friends to meet. 
 
 O never pause when at the door. 
 
 The wretched, trembling drunkard stands. 
 To ask the cause that made him poor. 
 
 And why he now for help demands. 
 Say to him, " come ; for Christ says come 
 
 And find relief from passion's strife; 
 And find in mercy's heart a home, 
 
 A refuge here, escape for life." 
 
 " Come to the waters flowing wide 
 
 As crystal fountains soft and clear — 
 Come, take the pledge ; nought shall betide , 
 
 You've temp'rance friends — you need not fear. 
 And God in kindest tender love 
 
 Will help the helpless, and restore ; 
 You yet in haij])y home above. 
 
 May praise His mercy evermore." 
 
 89 
 
 1 
 
 WATER.- DESCRIPTION. 
 
 One Paul Denton, a Methodist i)reacher in Texes, adver- 
 tised a Barbacuc, with better li(iuor than was ever furnished. 
 When the people were assembled, a desperado in the crowd 
 cried out — " Mr. I'aul Denton, your Riveretice has lied. 
 You promised us not only a good barbacue, but better 
 liciuor. Where is the li(iuor?" 
 
 " There !" answered the Missionary, in tones of thunder ; 
 and pointing his motionless finger at the matchless Double 
 Spring, gushing u]) in two strong columns, with a sound 
 like a shout of joy from the bosom of the earth. " There !" 
 he repeated, with a look terrible as the lightning, while his 
 
90 
 
 READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 
 
 enemy actually trembled on his feet ; " There is the li(]uor, 
 which Ciod, the Eternal, brews for all his cliiklren !" 
 
 " Not in the simmering Still, over smoky fires, choked 
 with ])oisonous gases, and surrounded witli the stench of 
 sickening odors and rank corruption, doth your Father in 
 heaven })rei)are the precious essence of life, the pure cold 
 w^ater ; but in the green glade and grassy dell, where the red 
 deer wanders, and the child loves to play, there God brews 
 it ; and down, low down in the deep valleys where the foun- 
 tains murmur and the rills sing ; and high up on the tall 
 mountain-tr)|)s, where the naked granite glitters like gold in 
 the sun, where the storm-cloud broods aiid the thunder- 
 storms crash ; and away far out on the wide, ^^'ild sea, where 
 the hurricane howls music, and the big waves roar the 
 chorus, sweeping the march of (lod, — there he brews it, that 
 beverage of life, health-giving water. 
 
 And everywhere it is a thing of beauty; gleaming in the 
 dew-drop; singing in the summer rain ; shining in the ice- 
 gem, till the trees all seem. turned to living jewels — spread- 
 ing a golden veil over the setting sun, or a white gauze 
 around the midnight moon ; s[)orting in the cataract ; 
 sleeping in the glacier ; dancing in the hail shower ; folding 
 its bright snow-curtains softly al)out the wintry -world; and 
 weaving the many colored iris, that serajjh's zone of the sky, 
 whose warp is the raindroj) of earth, whose woof is the sun- 
 beam of heaven, all decked with celestial flowers, by the 
 mystic hand of refraction. Still always it is beautiful — 
 that blessed life-water ! 
 
 No poison bubbles in its brink ; its foam brings not mad- 
 ness and nnu-der ; no blood stains its li(|uid glass; ])ale 
 widows and starving orphans weep not burning tears in its 
 dejjths ; no drunkard's slnieking ghost from the grave curses 
 it in words of eternal des])air ! Speak out, my friends ! 
 would you exchange it for the demon's drink, Alcohol?" 
 
 [This and the following to be read as one.] 
 
WATER ! OH ! WATER FOR ME. 
 
 91 
 
 •e is the li(]uor, 
 dren !" 
 
 y fires, choked 
 the stench of 
 ^•our Father in 
 the i)ure cold 
 , where the red 
 ere Clod brews 
 vhere the foun- 
 up on the tall 
 2rs hke gold in 
 i the thunder- 
 vWd sea, where 
 •aves roar the 
 e brews it, that 
 
 learning in the 
 ling in the ice- 
 ewels — spread- 
 a white gauze 
 the cataract ; 
 lower; folding 
 :ry-world; and 
 )ne of the sky, 
 Dof is the sun- 
 owers, by the 
 s beautiful — 
 
 ngs not mad- 
 d glass ; i)ale 
 \.Y^ tears in its 
 -' grave curses 
 mv friends ! 
 Alcohol?" 
 
 one.] 
 
 WATER !— OH ! WATER FOR ^[E. 
 
 Oh ! water for me — bright water for nie ! 
 And wine for the tremulous debauchee ! 
 It cooleth the brow, it cooleth the brain. 
 In maketh the faint one strong again. 
 
 It comes o'er the sense like a breeze from tlie sea, 
 
 All freshness, like infant purity. 
 
 Oh water, bright water, for me, for me ! 
 
 (live wine, give wine to the debauchee ! 
 
 Fill to the brim ! fill, fill to the brim ! 
 
 Let the flowing crystal kiss the rim ; 
 
 For my hand is steady, my eye is true. 
 
 For I, like the flowers, drink naught but dew. 
 
 Oh ! water, bright water's a mine of wealth, 
 And the ores it yieldeth are vigour and health. 
 So water, pure water, for me, for me ! 
 And wine for the tremulous debauchee ! 
 
 Fill again to the brim — again to the brim ! 
 For water strengthens life and limb ; 
 To the days of the aged it addcth length, 
 To the might of the strong it addcth strength. 
 
 It freshens the heart, it brightens the sight — 
 'Tis like c^uaffing a goblet of morning light. 
 So water, I'll drink naught but thee, 
 Thou parent of health and energy ! 
 
 Let my drink by day, my dream by night, 
 lie of i)ure cold water, si)arkling bright. 
 (live wine to the tremulous debauchee, 
 But water for mc — bri iit water for mc ! 
 
 
92 
 
 READINGS AND RECITATION^'. 
 
 THE SONG OF THE RIVER. 
 
 I SPRING from the rock, from the mountain side, 
 
 Sparkling pure and bright, 
 And I gather strength as I rapidly gHde, 
 
 From my birth-place into light. 
 
 Fresh are the flowers that deck my banks, 
 
 The sod is greenest there. 
 And the warbling wing'd one^} sing their thanks, 
 
 As they drink of me every where. 
 
 I am the only drink »vas given 
 
 To man, when pure and free, 
 Return then to the streams of heaven, 
 
 You're safe when you drink of me. 
 
 «^ 
 
 REPLY. 
 
 Cold water, we hail thee ; thou gift free as air ; 
 No beverage of mortals can with thee compare j 
 Who drmks of thee only, will find with delight 
 Fresh vigoui by day, contentment at night. 
 Yet men, in their vileness, have spurned thee aside, 
 And, drinking foul jioison, by millions have died. 
 Cold water ! cold water ! tlv;- ,nly drink given, 
 Like manna, descending siirc^'ly from heaven. 
 
 THE BLACKSMITH. 
 
 Under a spreading chestnut tree 
 The village smithy stands ; 
 
 The smith, a mighty man is he, 
 With large and sinewy hands ; 
 
 And the muscles of his brav ny arms 
 Are strong as iron bands, 
 
1 side, 
 
 lanks, 
 
 THE LOST DAY. 
 
 Toiling, — rejoicing, —sorrowing, 
 Onward through life he goes ; 
 
 Each morning sees some task begin. 
 Each evening sees it close ; 
 
 Something attempted, something done, 
 Has earned a night's repose. 
 
 Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend, 
 For the lesson thou hast taught ! 
 
 Thus at the flaming forge of life 
 Our fortunes must be wrought ; 
 
 Thus on its sounding anvil shaped 
 Each burning deed and thought ! 
 
 93 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 
 i 
 
 m 
 
 air; 
 
 are; 
 ght 
 
 e aside, 
 died. 
 
 n, 
 n. 
 
 THE LOST DAY. 
 
 Lost — lost — lost ! 
 
 A gem of countless price, 
 Cut from the living rock. 
 
 And graved in l^iradise. 
 Set round with three times eight 
 
 Large diamonds, clear and bright. 
 And each with sixty smaller ones, 
 
 All changeful as the light. 
 
 Lost — lost — lost ! 
 
 I feel all search is vain ; 
 That gem of countless cost 
 
 Can ne'er be mine again ; 
 1 offer no reward. 
 
 For till these heart-strings sever, 
 I know that heaven-intrusted gift 
 
 Is reft away for ever. 
 
 Mrs, Sigourny. 
 
 ' I 
 
'- 
 
 WP^' 
 
 i Selil. _i ' 
 
 li^iiiiiii 
 
 i 
 
 ' < ; If iiHiBini 1 iBf iw. 
 
 94 
 
 READINGS AND RFXTTATIONS. 
 
 tpip: last appeal. 
 
 Stay, stay thy hand — Oh ! tempt him not, 
 
 For he is all that's left to me, 
 The sunshine of my lonely lot. 
 The partner of my misery— 
 My youngest born. 
 
 His father's pride — 
 Oh ! tempt him not. 
 Take all beside. 
 
 Take all beside, but leave my boy. 
 
 Nor tem})t him with the accursed bowl ; 
 He is the widow's only joy. 
 The solace of her troubled soul. 
 Father and friend 
 
 Thy victim fell — 
 Oh ! sjiare the boy 
 I love so well. 
 
 Thrice have I seen the coid grave }'awn, 
 
 i\nd swallow in its darksome gloom. 
 The forms Fve loved from earliest dawn— 
 And thou, alas, didst seal their doom. 
 The tempting bowl 
 
 Thy iiand didst hold. 
 And all was done 
 F'or paltry gold. 
 
 Thnse painful scenes I can forget, 
 
 This bruised heart can heal again, 
 /vnd lurking tears shall no more wet 
 Th.ese pallid cheeks, so sunk with pain. 
 AH -s forgiven, 
 
 If thou'lt but swear, 
 By hope of heaven, 
 Thon wilt forbear. 
 
•m' 
 
 B 
 
 There's 
 There's 
 There's 
 
 CLEAR THE WAY. 
 
 CLEAR THE WAY. 
 
 iJY CHARLES UXCKAY. 
 
 Men of thought I be up and stirring, 
 
 Night and day ; 
 Sow the seed — withdraw the curtain — 
 
 Clear the way ! 
 
 Men of action, aid and cheer them, 
 As ye may ! 
 a fount about to stream, 
 a hght about to gleam, 
 a warmth al)Out to glow, 
 There's a flower about to blow, 
 There's a midnight darkness changing 
 
 Into gray. 
 Men of thought, and men of action, 
 Clear the way ! 
 
 Once the welcome light has broken, 
 
 Vv'ho shall say ! 
 What the unimagined glories 
 
 Of the day, — 
 What the evil that shall perish 
 
 In its ray ? 
 Aid the dawning, tongue and pen ; 
 Aid it, hopes of honest men ; 
 Aid it, paper — aid it, type- 
 Aid it, for the hour is ri[)e, 
 And our earnest must not slacken 
 
 Into play. 
 Men of thought, men of action, 
 
 Clear the way ! 
 
 Lo ! a cloud's about to vanish 
 
 From the day, 
 And a brazen wrong to crumble 
 
 Into clay. 
 
 95 
 
 >ii ■ 
 
m: 
 
 96 
 
 READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 
 
 Lo ! the right's about to conquer, 
 
 Clear the way ! 
 With that right shall many more 
 Enter smiling at the door ; 
 With the giant wrong shall fall 
 Many others, great and small, 
 That for ages long have held us 
 
 For their jDrey. 
 Men of thought, and men of action, 
 
 Clear the way ! 
 
 h 
 
 !l 
 
 MAKE YOUR MARK. 
 
 In the quarries should you toil. 
 
 Make your mark; 
 Do you delve upon the soul ? 
 
 Make your mark ; 
 In whatever path you go, 
 
 In whatever place you stand. 
 Moving swift or moving slow, 
 With a firm and honest hand. 
 Make yc^ur mark. 
 
 Should opponent • hedge your way. 
 
 Make your mark ; 
 Work by night or work by day. 
 
 Make your mark ; 
 Struggle manfully and weH, 
 
 Let no obstacle oppose. 
 None right shielded ever fell 
 By the weapons of his foes — 
 Make your mark. 
 
 What though born a peasant's son, 
 Make your mark ; 
 
 Good by poor men can be done — 
 Make your mark ; 
 
 Humble garbs may warm the cold ; 
 
MAKE YOUR MARK. 
 
 Homely words may calm a fear ; 
 Better far than hoarding gold 
 Is the drying of a tear, 
 Make your mark. 
 
 Sin and sorrow, want and woe, 
 
 Make their mark ; 
 You will find where e'er you go, 
 
 Wretches marks; 
 Yours to counteract the wrong, 
 
 Yours to bless and help and cheer, 
 Bold in manly virtue strong. 
 
 Strike your impress deep and clear, 
 Make your mark. 
 
 Life is fleeting like a shade, 
 Make your mark ; 
 Marks of some kind must be made, 
 
 Make your mark ; 
 Make it while the arm is strong. 
 In the golden hours of youth ; 
 Never, never make it wrong; 
 
 Make it with the stamp oi truth — 
 Make your mark. 
 
 97 
 
 
 % 
 
 ii 
 
 JOHN GREY'S INCREASE OF PROPER'I'V. 
 
 RECORDED IN RHYME, 
 
 By yacob Spence, iti his younger days. — /// 14 short cJiapters. 
 
 Chap. I. — Introduction. 
 
 John Grey, our hero, jovial John, 
 Worked, sang, and said his sun still shone, 
 Good Blacksmith he, in cheerful mood, 
 With customers in favor stood, 
 Stout, hearty, pleasant, lively, droll. 
 Good humored seemed, body and soul, 
 
 G 
 
:f(!i 
 
 '■ 1 
 
 
 
 
 i 
 
 i 
 
 f 
 
 f 
 
 1 
 
 98 RTADINGS AND RKCITATIONS. 
 
 Some physiognomist declared, 
 In all good qualities John shared, 
 'Twas known ])y notic:ing his walk, 
 Clood man to work and great to talk. 
 
 John knew to shoe, and only few. 
 Could do the jobs that he could do, 
 He had some thought, o//e only fault — • 
 Rather a bearing to the malt. 
 He took a glass, and sometimes beer, 
 And thought he had no cause to fear. 
 
 Chap. II. — John's Happy Hii-. 
 
 By clearer view of all John saw, 
 And heard, and felt, and higher law, 
 Led on an extra blessed time, 
 He brake the snare, and cjuit the crime, 
 And thinks of all the hai)i)y hits, 
 He ever made since he had wits. 
 
 T/ial was the best /f//f one ; the best 
 Out-doing all the mighty rest, 
 That glorious hit he ne'er denied, 
 The recollection rous'd his jjride, 
 John knew it so, and always said. 
 He hit the right mark on the head. 
 The time he signed the Temi)erancc })ledge, 
 And clean struck out the drinking wedge. 
 Which e'er had sj)lit his soul and body, 
 And scathed them both, ''■ tJiat cursed ioddy.^^ 
 Jt)hn always named with satisfoction, 
 That valiant, brave, heroic action. 
 
 And many a time with force of thought. 
 And voice and arm the fact he brought 
 To notice, as a crowning glory, 
 Worthy of ])lace in any story. 
 The giant feat that crowned his life, 
 T'he next to having got a wife. 
 
JOHN GRF-YS INCREASE OF PROPERTY. 
 
 The pen with wliich he made that stroke, 
 
 Should still enconiums evoke, 
 
 As mighty goose-quill to this hour. 
 
 Wielding n(}xt to tlie s/edi^e, a power, 
 
 AVhen used with intellect and will, 
 
 It may accomplish wonders still. 
 
 He had for once make one good mark. 
 
 And hadn't done it in the dark, 
 
 A memorable deed and day, 
 
 Had to the pledge affixed John Clrey. 
 
 Chap. HI.— John's Zeal and Effort. 
 
 To talk on Temperance quite inclined, 
 
 John always liked to speak his mind, 
 
 \\1ien looking at the fatal snare. 
 
 And men deluded going there. 
 
 Having escaped, his soul desired, 
 
 With holy, burning ardor fired. 
 
 Degraded drinkers to reclaim. 
 
 And lead to safety ; such his aim, 
 
 John reasoned in a lively way, 
 
 A.nd still had something smart to say, 
 
 He gloried, he rejoiced, and well 
 
 His own ex])erience could tell. 
 
 He liked a joke and sometimes could 
 
 Come in with what some friends call "good." 
 
 Chap. IV.- — John's Difficulties. 
 
 Once on a time when John was ([uite 
 Engaged at work with all his might. 
 Pushed hard to finish task designed. 
 Full-blast, strong effort, hand and mind, 
 In haste two friends look in, but he 
 Could scarce look up each face to see ; 
 They wished to have his helpful hand 
 And voice, assisting in their band 
 Of sj3eakers — though their case was stroma, 
 'I'heir hands were weak — " Do come aioiig,^* 
 
 99 
 
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 IMAGE EVALUATION 
 TEST TARGET (MT-3) 
 
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 11.25 
 
 150 ■^~ HHB 
 
 1.4 
 
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 1.6 
 
 Hiotographic 
 
 Sciences 
 
 Corporation 
 
 23 WEST MAIN STRUT 
 
 WEBSTER, N.Y. MStO 
 
 (716) •72-4S03 
 
 
^^> 
 
100 READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 
 
 They pleaded, and John's nature pleaded — 
 
 He was so %^ery badly needed. 
 
 " The man expected had not come, 
 
 " And we are almost all struck dumb." 
 
 To come and help, and take a part 
 In such a case. 'J'o this John's heart 
 Responded — yes ! I surely must. 
 But now tc change his clothes and dust, 
 And be in time. It seemed as though 
 He could not dress, and yet jniist go ; 
 Awaiting was the crowd collected, 
 The speakers instantly expected. 
 
 Chap. V. — John's Hurry. 
 
 John dropped his work, quick washed his face, 
 
 It was a very pressing case. 
 
 He did not ask his wife's assistance. 
 
 She might have offer'd some resistance. 
 
 Bent only on his speech to think. 
 
 He dressed and started in a wink. 
 
 
 
 1 ■^'' "'■ 
 
 1 ' 
 
 i 
 
 1 
 
 t 
 1 
 
 \ 
 
 1 
 
 1 i| : 
 
 
 ||b|; 
 
 Chap. VI. — Mrs. Grey's Thouctfulness. 
 
 Fond mistress Crey had kindly made, 
 "/vA- hurried times,''' she always said, 
 A " half-shirt " named, a nice device, 
 Saving in labor and in i)rice ; 
 Its length exactly half a yard. 
 And half that width— so to discard 
 All inches odd— and be so ready 
 To fix and i)in — to keep it steady. 
 She saw in the device a ho])e 
 Of saving some in time and soap. 
 John thought so too, his wife so kind. 
 Had done exactly to his mind. 
 " Device " in front, was soon ])ut on, 
 And ([uickly John to meeting gone. 
 
N 
 
 JOHN grey's INCREASK OF PROPERTY. 
 
 Chap. VII. — John's Negligence. 
 
 Dear John had been too heedless (iiiite, 
 To fasten up his vest front right, 
 And almost stu})idly shut in, 
 The nice device without a pin. 
 
 His subject started, John grew warm. 
 Confirmed each truth with his right arm, 
 " Heat up the iron," must he not ? 
 As well as " strike it when 'tis hot." 
 
 101 
 
 . (■ 
 
 mi 
 m 
 
 Chap. VIII. — John's Awkward Fix. 
 
 John's action rather lively grew, 
 John hurried, and too thoughtless too, 
 Excited by his lively strain 
 Trifles were treated with disdain. 
 His neat vest fastening, open flew 
 And " half shirt" playful hung in view. 
 
 The question now was how to best. 
 Arrange the subject of the vest. 
 Still as John's bright effusions flowed. 
 The smithy inside garment showed ; 
 'i'he white erratic outside flaunted, 
 Far from the place where really wanted. 
 Displaying Mistress (Irey's invention 
 Ikyond the sphere of her intention. 
 Should he not stoj) and put it straight ? 
 But, then, how should the meeting wait ? 
 
 Chap. IX. — Aiteniion Diverted. 
 
 John spoke with vigor — yet it seemed 
 
 Attention wavered — Lox/c teemed. 
 
 The arguments were weighty, sound, 
 
 iUit the free fixing flying round, 
 
 Api)eared to carry ofl" their force. 
 
 The nice clean front would take its course, 
 
 ;i 
 
■w » 
 
 t' •) 
 
 i ^'m 
 
 'II 
 
 102 READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 
 
 Its length some ladies criticised, 
 Some better " style " would have devised, 
 Should it cut short a temperance speech 
 No serious talk the case could reach. 
 
 Chap. X. — Views and Feelings. 
 
 Kind sympathy was felt for John, 
 Should he, or should he not, go on ? 
 Some heads were held down deep in thought, 
 Some turned aside and glances caught. 
 Some shut their eyes, they only wanted 
 To hear when John so free descanted ; 
 And merry youngsters looked amused. 
 Some feared dear John would get confused, 
 Profound discourse was of no use, 
 Then fight it out ; or what excuse ? 
 To give his case a temperance bearing, 
 At same time keep his linen airing. 
 
 Chap. XI. — John's Courage and Tact. 
 
 John saw his fix, but no way frightened. 
 
 Seemed on the subject prompt enlightened 
 
 Half shirt antagonist appeared 
 
 He would not have it said he feared 
 
 An enemy as slight as that. 
 
 Since the first hour he owned a hat. 
 
 It came, he saw, he conquered it 
 
 By shaft of smile and blade of wit. 
 
 His own that should be bosom friend, 
 On which his wife too did depend ; 
 Should take such liberties unkind, 
 'Twas not just to his tender mind. 
 But he would work to double end, 
 Subdue a foe and make a friend. 
 At once he caught the happy thought, 
 Turn it to good account he ought, 
 And to his mind's belief he should 
 Was clear conviction that he could. 
 
JOHN grey's increase OF PROPERTY. l03 
 
 Chap. XII. — John's Seli'-Evident Illustration. 
 
 Here John advantages could show 
 
 From temperance practice ever g'-ow ; 
 
 So plainly could he put his case 
 
 Right here — look here ! beneath my face 
 
 Increase of property admitted, 
 
 Was for this very purpose fitted. 
 
 His new appendage front in sight, 
 
 Shed on his case its radiant light, 
 
 No need our subject to disguise, , 
 
 Example fair before your eyes. 
 
 Then pointing to his erring vest, 
 
 His audience to the point addressed. 
 
 See here ! my friends now look again, 
 
 This pro])erty is here 'tis plain, 
 
 Observe how I became possessed 
 
 Of what you notice on my breast. 
 
 Now mind ! cried he, you all know me. 
 
 And on a time you all did see 
 
 That one good shirt I did not own, 
 
 Distinctly, I have richer grown, 
 
 To-night I own one and a half, 
 
 I now, as well as you, can laugh. 
 
 Clap. XIII. —John's Application. 
 
 John called this hit the point to finish. 
 Lest good impressions might diminish, 
 Increase of property, attraction, 
 Should lead humanity to action. 
 " Ex-plain," said John, means extra plain, 
 Clearly to show ex-clear again. 
 Unfold, express, expose, expand, 
 To lead the mind to understand, 
 Develop, manifest, reveal, 
 Ex-hibit too, that men may feel. 
 And apprehend the ample worth 
 Of facts, had he not so held forth ? 
 
 >i 
 
1!1" 
 
 104 
 
 READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 
 
 I d 
 
 I 
 
 I ■ ■ 
 
 U li. 
 
 * t I 
 
 John bcgg'd most serious close attention 
 ']'o factr he now o/zce ino7'e would mention. 
 Mark, lei-rn, said John, you amply see 
 The benefits enjoyed by me, 
 I do most earnestly declare. 
 Outside and in and ev'ry where, 
 1 do enjoy improvement great, 
 In mind, and body, and estate, 
 'Tis seen set forth beyond a guess 
 The vast improvement in my dress. 
 My wife too now has at command. 
 Wherewith to try her clever hand. 
 Bend, listen, yield to moral force, 
 My heart advises you this course, 
 Exami)le take, and take my word, 
 Come up and sign with one accord. 
 
 Chap. XIV. — John's Peroration. 
 
 John understood and argued still, 
 'Twas finish showed the workman's skill. 
 So to conclude without collapse, 
 Or once approaching a perhaps. 
 And have more forcibly expressed 
 The ardor of his heaving breast. 
 
 John felt elated, earnest, warm. 
 Lifted one foot and raised one arm. 
 Device held forth with other hand, 
 Extended silence to command. 
 John (and his half) at utmost length, 
 Cried (putting forth his utmost strength) 
 I hope you realize my case, 
 ''''Increase of property and peace. ^'' 
 
 Come, follow my example bright, 
 Now strike your fetters off outright ; 
 You may from tyrant drink be free, 
 Happy and well-to-do like me. 
 
Adam's fall. 
 
 105 
 
 '.li 
 
 ADAM'S FALL. 
 
 The practice of treating the minister, although not yet 
 entirely discontinued, has been of late years so far done 
 away that the presence of the replenished decanter is not in 
 many places now regarded a necessity in view of the antici- 
 pated pastoral visit. Even this must be fairly counted quite 
 an improvement on the ancient customs. 
 
 Some curious occurrences are handed down to us in tra- 
 ditions of those times of esteemed, pious potations, connected 
 with clerical visitation. Due regard to faithful ecclesiastical 
 history may not require lengthy notice of these, beyond 
 noting the fact, that to indulge a little extra at such times, 
 as ministers visits was not once looked upon as amongst the 
 bad vices. It sometimes happened that the good man of 
 the house would rather, in fact, regard it as his religious 
 privilege to join in a liberal drink with the minister in a way 
 and manner consistent with genuine hospitality. The office- 
 bearer would not often be found the least loth to use the 
 good opportunity of the pastor's presence, to have a drop 
 extra in the good company. Amongst the little incidents 
 retained in memory of the olden times, the following has 
 been deemed worthy of a place in the record : 
 
 Adam Adamson always looked for^vard with gladsome 
 anticipations to the minister's next visit; and when, as some- 
 times happened, his reverence delayed his coming beyond 
 his stated time, Adam in some measure made up for the 
 delay by visiting the black bottle in the cupboard. 
 
 At the particular time now referred to, Adam had used 
 up more than his fair share of the drink before the minister 
 arrived, so thrt when he was seen in the distance coming 
 on the round, and when thoughtful Mrs. Adamson ran to see 
 that all was right, Lo ! to her sore dismay the bottle was 
 found all but empty. Adam was called to account in the 
 emergency and upbraided with his misconduct. He at once 
 proposed to remedy the ill-doing as far as now possible, and 
 would make all tjie effort he could to make good the default; 
 
 I; 
 
 ^■^ 
 
 li 
 
 ir 
 
 I; 
 
i '^• 
 
 I '' 
 
 H I, 
 
 j 
 
 1 
 
 ■ 
 ■, i 
 
 I: ■ 
 
 '■■. ' - : 
 
 106 
 
 READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 
 
 he would scamper round the back way and have the drink 
 suppHed in its pkice, while Mrs. A. should keep the minister 
 engaged in conversation. 
 
 Off Adam started vrith bottle and cash ; got his pint and 
 started with all ex})edition. IJut he must taste a little out 
 of the bottle to help him in his race. He hastened on, the 
 road was rough, and some stone heaps in the way which he 
 did not notice in time to avoid, and on one of these un- 
 lucky heaps near home he found himself prostrate, the bottle 
 broken, and contents spilt. 
 
 In the meantime the minister had been catechising Mrs. 
 A. on the subject of the sermon of last sabbath, but her 
 memory was extra defective, — in fact, seemed to have quite 
 failed her on that particular occasion. He asked if she did 
 not remember about the fall of man ? Yes, she had heard a 
 great deal of talk thereof, however, she could not just then 
 t/ti/ik of the particulars. 
 
 At this point her attention was called to Adam having 
 arrived at the back door. 
 
 She left hurriedly for a moment to secure all right, 
 hoping to have the bottle placed on the shelf, and Adam 
 introduced. When Lo ! a new and terrible disaster met her 
 bewildered gaze. There was Adam with only the neck of 
 the bottle in his bleeding hand, minus the drink. 
 
 Taking the whole case at a glance, she directed Adam at 
 once into the small room, and there to /cee/f quiet until sl<e 
 could as best possible manage to get through with the 
 minister. Her chief difficulty now seemed how to coin some 
 account of Adam's absence. 
 
 When Mrs. A. returned rather confused, and while the 
 one subject of Adam's mishaj) occupied her mind, his rev- 
 erence proceeded in his interrogations as to the subject of the 
 sermon. " It was only the last sabbath and she had been 
 to church ! " He was astonished if she could plead ignor- 
 ance on this subject of the fall of man. 
 
 New light seemed at once to dawn on her bewildered 
 mind — " Adam's fall," yes, sure enough, it had been a fall. 
 It must have been. The minister was truly a prophet of the 
 Highest. No use of trying to hide anything from him now. 
 
 iii 
 
DIVULGING THE SKCRET. 
 
 107 
 
 Well, said Mrs. A., (hesitatingly), as to how Adam fell, 
 that I cannot say, as to the particulars, only that he 
 broke the bottle and spilt the whiskey, and he can tell you 
 the rest himself. Ada/n, you may as well come out just as 
 you are, the minister understands about the terrible affair, 
 and there's no use trying to hide anything from him now. 
 Adam, come speak out. How didst thou fall ? *' He that 
 covereth his sins shall not ])rosper." 
 
 Remarks. — The misfortune in Adam Adamson's case 
 may be rather counted as a " blessing in disguise." The 
 whiskey did less harm to Clod's earth than it would have 
 done to (lod's image. 
 
 It may be confidently asserted that since the fall of our 
 first parents in Eden, no other calamity has ever befallen 
 the race so disastrous as the further fall by strong drink ; 
 and as a step in the direction of bringing humanity ^nder 
 the power of the gospel of restoration, the removal of the 
 infatuation ci the drinking usages deserves most serious 
 consideration. 
 
 Christiar.s, instead of harbouring the deceiver, should 
 unite to crush the head of the serpent of the still. 
 
 it 
 
 i % 
 
 DIVULGING THE SECRET, 
 
 Mrs. O'Rafferty, though Irish, surpassed some of the 
 more highly favoured of her sex in many of the good quali- 
 ties which go to make up a perfect character, and was not 
 wanting in the ordinary female talent for inquisitiveness. 
 
 In the town where Mrs. O. lived, there was a Lodge of 
 the I. O. G. T. The place of meeting was a large room on 
 the second flat of a lofty building situated in the main 
 street, and accessible by a long stair-cnse, a little too steep 
 for ascending with perfect ease. 
 
 The members of said Lodge wanted their meeting-room 
 scrubbed and generally renovated, and after some discussion 
 on the subject, it was regularly moved, seconded and car- 
 ried, that Mrs. O'Rafferty be employed to do the work, and 
 
 1 1' 
 
 'II 
 
108 
 
 READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 
 
 I'- 1 !;!??-' 
 
 that the Worthy Marshal should superintend the perform- 
 ance. 
 
 After the meeting adjourned, this official waited upon the 
 lady, informed her of the wishes of the lodge, and requested 
 her to be on the spot early next morning. 
 
 At the api)ointed hour, Mrs. O api)eared at the place 
 duly equipped for work, —depositing, conveniently, a formid- 
 able array of pails, tubs, brooms, scrubbing brushes, and 
 such other utensils as she deemed necessar)' for the efficient 
 performance of the work required, — the immense pile of 
 articles well nigh filling up the small entrance-room at the 
 head of the stairs. The Worthy Marshal was there. He 
 was what some would call a rather rollicking young fellow, 
 full of fun, or at least the fancy for a freak, and almost a 
 criminal recklessness of conseciuences. 
 
 Knowing the inciuisitive disposition of the good old lady, 
 he had early that morning prepared for a little performance, 
 which might at once test the oft repeated charge of inquisi- 
 tiveness against the sex generally, and possibly afford a little 
 matter of amusement. Our Worthy Marshal had, with no 
 small amount of difficulty, captured a great, tall, strong, long- 
 horned, long-bearded billy-goat. This formidable animal 
 was the terror of the small boys of the town, and was treated 
 even deferentially by the more sturdy citizens. The Mar- 
 shal had, however, managed to have him shut up in a sort 
 of closet, used as a receptacle for the regalia, etc., belonging 
 to the lodge. The door was unlocked and only secured by 
 a small wooden button. He gravely addressed the unsus- 
 picious workwoman : — 
 
 " I shall tell you, madam," said he, " how we come to 
 employ jw/ for this work. It had to be done, and the 
 brethren said it would be very difficult to get any body to 
 do it, and not to be meddling with the secrets in that closet. 
 The key being lost, we cannot make it so secure as Ave 
 would wish. I informed them that I knew you could be 
 relied on to do just as you were told." 
 
 " An very right you wur," said Mrs. O'Rafferty. " In- 
 deed yer saycrits might rest in pase till they'd rot, before 
 aye'id be afther luckin' where they'd be. Sure my poor 
 
DIVULGING THF, SF.CRET. 
 
 109 
 
 1 the perform- 
 
 husband, (rest to his sowl in glory, and may the heavens 
 be his bed, and the clouds his blankets,) he belonged to the 
 Masons or the Anti-Masons, or Oddfellows, aye dunow 
 which, an he towld me all about the whole matther, and 
 shewed me the marks the gridiron made when he wur inter- 
 mishigated, an aye niver towld a livin' sowl iv it, and niver 
 will, niver! Yer door's as safe as if it had all the locks in 
 Dublin on it." 
 
 " I thought so," said the Marshal ; and after giving some 
 directions about the cleaning, etc., he left, but didn't go far 
 away. Having some michievous companions in the plot, 
 they awaited the issue. 
 
 No sooner had he gone than genuine feminine curiosity 
 took its course. " Arrah ! and it's not to look in there," 
 half thought, half spoke Mrs. O. " What iver can thir be 
 in that little place ? Indeed thir's sumthin' ([uere. I'll 
 warrant there's a halther, or a gridiron, or some sitch 
 rubbitsh, jist lake them Anty-Masons. Shure an if aye 
 took one peep they'd niver be a taste the wiser." Suiting 
 the action to the word she cautiously turned the fastening 
 and partly opened the door ; when " Ba-a-a," went the 
 l)risoner, regaining his liberty with a suddenness and force 
 that started the terrified woman for the door, under the full 
 conviction that all the powers of darkness were in pursuit. 
 She and Billy plunged excitedly together into the narrow 
 and now obstructed passage — ^pails, kettles, tubs, water, 
 sand, soap, brooms, and scrubbing brushes, goat and lady, 
 confusedly jumbled together, rolled precipitately down the 
 long stairway toward the street. The noise and confusion 
 collected quite a crowd to the spot, and amongst the first 
 was the mischievous Marshal. From'under the vast compli- 
 cation of shattered implements of business he released the 
 goat, now a cripple for life, and extricating the trembling 
 woman tenderly raised her to her feet and anxiously 
 enquired if she had been taking the degrees. "Taking 
 degrees," she exclaimed, " if ye call tumlin from the tap to 
 the bottom iv the stairs with the mischief afther yea takin' 
 the degrees aye hw thim now siin!^ "Why," said the 
 Marshal, "I hope you have not been looking into the closet." 
 
 If I' 
 
 Hi 
 
 
 ill 
 
1 
 
 ■ I. 
 
 110 
 
 READTNOS AND RECITATIONS. 
 
 " IJad scran to yer closet," cried she, " ye might know'd 
 better. If you want a woman to see something just tell her 
 not to look at it. \i the first Kve cuddent leave the apples 
 alone, what dj ye expect from the likes iv me ? I jist 
 wanted to take one luck, an' the tarrable crithur leapt fare 
 in my face, an' whin 1 run for the door he made afther me, 
 buttin' me at every jumj)." 
 
 " But, madam," interposed he, " you now being in 
 possession of the great secrets of our noble order you must 
 go up and be sworn in and initiated in the regular way." 
 " Regular way." screamed she, " bad luck to yir impidence, 
 is it ride that baste ye mane, ye ill-conditioned spalpeen ye ? 
 Nivir ! An' if I can hindther' her, no lady '11 ivir jine the 
 Good Templars, aye'll tell ivery mother's sowl of them yer 
 tarnal thricks. Ay'd rather be made a Mason or Anty- 
 Mason or Oddfellow, and be roasted on a gridiron as long 
 as a fire cud be kept undther me, and l)e dragged from the 
 garrett to the cellar in an owl pair iv slii)pers wi a halther 
 roun' mi nick like my poor dead and gone Dinnis, an' he 
 lived true it all. But 1 cud niver live out sitch another 
 drive as aye tuck this blessed day, and you'll njver get me to 
 try it, niver." 
 
 RAISING THE WIND. 
 
 Paddy McBride took it into his head that as he could 
 not very well succeed at farming without middling hard 
 work, he would ''''start a Tavern." He had not been long 
 started in his new occupation, when by using the means by ^ 
 which others before him had succeeded, he became as dis- 
 tended, capacious and corpulent as his neighbour Ted 
 Sherry. 
 
 One day Dick McCabe, Davy Creed, Tom McCardel, and 
 three or four other " jolly boys," met in the main room of 
 his establishment, apparently without any pre-arrangement, 
 and called for round after round of drink, until each had 
 ordered (and further disposed of) his round. The kindly 
 
RAISING THE WIND. 
 
 Ill 
 
 landlord thinking he !iad made a good hit in his locality ; 
 and now, for the prosperity of his business had chiefly to at- 
 tend to the policy of making friends, felt bound to join and 
 treat, and all seeming in excessive good humour, each 
 customer offered to i)ay the whole score to which in turn 
 the others sternly objected. So after much friendly scjuab- 
 bling and several proposals as to some mutually satisfactory 
 way of fixing the party who would have the i)rivilege of 
 paying, it was finally agreed to have a game of " blind 
 man's buff," and the first caught was to jiay for all. Then 
 after some farther discussion, it was agreed that the landlord 
 blindfolded, was the man that would do the fair thing in the 
 case. Accordingly the " boys" done him up dark, and after 
 hemming him all round with forms and chairs, and keeping 
 up a lively talking and walking in the room, they slipped out 
 one by one, leaving poor Paddy gro])ing round and knocking 
 against the furniture, trying to lay hold of the proper jjerson, 
 who, (as he now thought) must be very silently poked uj) in 
 some corner close out of the way. 
 
 At last Mrs. McBride hearing the noise of forms and 
 chairs falling, and no voices rising, and wondering at the 
 unusual style of commotion, as well as what could be keeping 
 her husband so long from his business, at last took it into 
 her head to run into the room and see ; and to her amaze- 
 ment found her fatigued blindfolded husband with extended 
 arms labouring to catch some one, but nobody else near. 
 Fortunately he had not been much on the spree lately, or 
 she might have thought of delirium. She had not however 
 long time time to cogitate as to possibilities, for no sooner 
 did he hear the foot fall, for which his now sensitive ear had 
 been on the alert, than he made his^way in that direction, 
 and clasping his better-half triumphantly, exclaimed, " you 
 are in for it." •' For what !" exclaimed the bewildered 
 woman. " For the whole score," replied Paddy, tearing off 
 the cover from his eyes, and although he had the wrong 
 party, he was right. 
 
 It may be needless to add he was on his guard, and never 
 again played blind man's buff for the reckoning. 
 
 a 
 
 
 11. 
 
 r' 
 
 
1! 
 
 p'' \ 
 
 
 
 
 •!/: 
 
 4 It 
 
 i^-''-M 
 
 112 
 
 READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 
 
 SECOND STRATAGEM. 
 
 Paddy, however, had yet much to learn, both in his art 
 and the art of others, and he was no exception to the rule, 
 that experience is competent to impart some rare lessons. 
 
 Paddy's next was on this wise : John Hollins came in 
 with two bottles of water in his capacious coat pockets ; the 
 bottles were the same size and labelled exactly as those 
 which were full of whiskey on the shelf, they were in fact 
 similar bottles which John had duly emptied before. He 
 asked for and obtained two bottles of the strong drink; 
 stowed them away in the big pockets, and after fumbling in 
 his other pockets for the money to pay for them, exclaimed, 
 " Dear me !" then (addressing Mr. McBride \yith an air of 
 disappointment) he said, " what a stupid fellow I am to forget 
 my purse." " O, it does not signify," Mr. Mc. replied, 
 you should be most \/elcome to the bottles, but we keep 
 no books and give " no credit" to any person. It is our 
 invariable rule; sorry, but you can just leave them until you 
 return with the money. Whereupon, John who well knew 
 that " no credit'^ was given, slowly, and with some affected 
 reluctance, drew out the two water bottles, which Mr. Mc- 
 Bride placed unsuspectingly on the shelf, and only made the 
 discovery of the fraud when another custoraer returned with 
 what he described as soft drink, that there must have been 
 some mistake about. John, however, had sooner tested the 
 contents of his exchange, and " no mistake." 
 
 JIM ROBINSON'S CLUB. ' 
 
 Jim was (juite a remarkable man and seemed well adapted 
 to keep a tavern and enforce the rules of the club which 
 met at his house. Whatever may have been the original 
 intention, the chief operations of the club for some nine had 
 been concocting plans to raise the wind, and extra expertness 
 in this line was regarded as a special qualification for effective 
 membership. 
 
 Con Molloy, a smart young man, made application and was 
 
 ' T '1 
 
 
CALF LOGIC. 
 
 113 
 
 duly initiated, yet had to take some farther degrees, and 
 something would depend on proficiency in the arts of the 
 fraternity. On the evening of joining, Con had a pretty fair 
 suit of clothes, put on in somewhat tasteful fashion. Not, 
 however, being able to carry the quantity of liquor with 
 some older members, he got so heavy early in the evening 
 that he had to be carried to bed, where he lay in profound 
 sleep. Seizing the opportunity, some of his hard companions 
 took off his clothes, carried them to the pawn-broker's, and 
 raised three dollars, which supplied for the time the means 
 of extended jollification. When Con awoke, about ten o'clock 
 the same night, and found the state of affairs, he deliberated 
 for a short time, both how to secure his clothes and character 
 in the club. He got up, rolled the blanket and quilt around 
 him cloak fashion, marched off to the same pawn-broker, to 
 whom he explained matters, pawned the bed-clothes, released 
 his own, and with the balance procured two bottles of 
 whiskey, and deliberately walked back to the club, still in 
 session. The members at first were somewhat startled, and 
 puzzled whether it might not be Con's ghost, but when he 
 explained, and presented the full bottles, they all heartily 
 gave him the right hand of fellowship, as being one of their 
 very best members. 
 
 ^1 1 1 
 
 CALF-LOGIC. 
 
 c!)*' 
 
 ion and was 
 
 The jolly party had kept up the carouse until a late hour 
 at night. One of the company having retired, and being a 
 considerable time absent, the others listening for his return- 
 ing footsteps, heard a horrid cry of murder. This was 
 again rapidly repeated in piteous tones, and then, as if sup- 
 pressed and broken by sobs and struggles, the cry was barely 
 audible. The alarm was given, and all hands and lights 
 called for. The night was dark and the mud was deep. 
 The enclosure where the calves were kept was but a short 
 distance from the house. P'rom that direction the noise 
 was heard to proceed, and thither the well-armed party re- 
 
 > ! ll 
 
114 
 
 READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 
 
 'I , 
 
 fl rr,l I 
 
 paired in haste. As they approached, the desperate struggle 
 seemed to increase. They could distinctly hear souses and 
 sobs, mingled with cries for help and exclamations of " mur- 
 der," " save," and then muffled groans dreadful to hear. 
 
 Courageously the relieving party pressed forward to the 
 rescue. They reached the spot barely in time to save a 
 fellow-being — not merely from felonious hands, but mur- 
 derous mouths. Their pel companion had approached too 
 near and balanced over the low fence enclosing the calf plot, 
 and the greedy brutes, mistaking him for the forgetful boy 
 who should have brought their milk, had, without any mur- 
 derous intent, simply set about efforts to extract nourishment 
 from cheir helpless visitor. Three calves had laid hold of 
 him in the most unceremonious manner. One had each 
 ear, one had him by the nose, each stoutly tugging in a 
 different direction, and sucking vigorously while dragging and 
 bumping his poor hard head in the soft mud most un- 
 mercifull)-. 
 
 Sympathising companions of course succeeded in rescuing 
 Charlie Dunkin from his perilous position. 
 
 Charlie declares that six sensible Temperance speeches he 
 heard, never made half as deep impression on him that the 
 forcible logic of those three simple calves did. Some who 
 had not the benefit of the experience he had, might call it 
 only lip-service, but i*: had touched his head and heart. 
 
 Charlie has joined the Good Templars. He would 
 rather go through ^he initiation service in the lodge, and all 
 the terrors of riding the goat seventy-seven times over, than 
 undertake another interview with those three calves, and yet, 
 he considers the calf-logic excellent, especially in its blessed 
 efTects. 
 
 ili^'-' 
 
 i*l 
 
 JIMMIE»DAVIS. 
 
 Much renowned was'Jinmie Davis, 
 Much renowned among the people 
 Living in and round the village, 
 Living near and in the distance ; 
 
 
itions of " mur- 
 
 ;ded in rescuing 
 
 JIMMIE DAVIS. 
 
 All had heard his name and wondered, 
 Wondered at his works and power. 
 
 Very small in stature was he, 
 Very small and very graceful ; 
 Hair was black and somewhat wavy, 
 (Though, indeed, it has been whispered. 
 That with bear's oil and much brushing. 
 He had coaxed it to be curly.) 
 But his whiskers made him handsome. 
 Trimmed so well and neat he kept them. 
 
 When he sung the village listened ; 
 All the men would gather near him ; 
 All the women and the children 
 Leave their work to come and hear him ; 
 Then he'd sing of joy and gladness, 
 Sing of love in notes so joyous 
 That their hearts would thrill with pleasure. 
 That the very birds would listen, 
 In their warblings pause to listen. 
 When he sang of grief and sorrow. 
 Sang of care and troubles many. 
 Every heart was filled with sadness. 
 
 Much beloved by all, then, was he. 
 He the dearest of the singers ; 
 Then the muses much he courted, 
 Courted much, and thought, and pondered. 
 Till his pen would fly like lightning. 
 Tracing down his thoughts and feelings. 
 And when at length the crowded weeklies 
 Found a place for his sweet rhymings, 
 Every person gazed and wondered, 
 All the j)oets seemed astounded, 
 Dropped their quills in mute amazement, 
 Breathless read his lines in silence, 
 Thus by all he was admired, 
 He the sweetest of all poets. 
 
 115 
 
 Mil 
 
 II: 
 
'■rm 
 
 116 
 
 READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 
 
 ill ^'^ 
 
 ^■'r 
 
 Rumor said that Jimmie Davis 
 Thought himself almost perfection ; 
 That he boasted of his power 
 Of appearing fascinating 
 In the presence of the ladies ; 
 That his ways were always pleasant, 
 And polite were all his actions. 
 Furthermore, 'tis said, he boasted 
 That with smiles and much caressing, 
 Words of love and sweet endearment, 
 He could win the heart's affections, 
 Win the love of any maiden. 
 
 But the worst about this wooing 
 Was the want of right intentions, 
 Vain he was of his attractions, 
 And his power to ^^ 'n the thoughtless, 
 And his power to sway affections. 
 Reckless as to consequences. 
 He, moreover, was not cautious, 
 Was not cautious, so as always 
 To conceal his vain ambition. 
 Boasting often how successful 
 He had been in his deceptions. 
 
 Jimmie Davis had already 
 Caused some serious perturbation. 
 And had plann'd some new adventures, 
 So one dark and dreary evening. 
 He left home to go a-courting ; 
 Though the wind blew fiercely by him, 
 And the snow was deeply drifted. 
 Onward hurried Jimmie Davis ; 
 To the home of Lena Lewis. 
 
 Soon he reached the pleasant cottage, 
 Almost frozen, reached the fireside. 
 But he soon forgot his numbness, 
 Sitting by the side of Lena, 
 
JIMMIE DAVIS. 
 
 117 
 
 Gazing on her face so lovely, 
 Gazing in her eyes so dreamy. 
 Meanwhile, darkly, deeply scheming 
 How to catch her fine affections. 
 Confident in strong assurance 
 " She shall love me as have others. 
 When her heart I find I 'm gaining, 
 Then I'll leave her for a fresh one." 
 Then he smiled and looked bewitching ; 
 Pretty names he softly whispered. 
 Still into her blue eyes gazing. 
 Then he'd press her hand so gently, 
 Smile so sweet and murmur, "dearest," 
 That he thought no mortal woman 
 Had a heart that could resist him. 
 
 Thus the hours flew on swiftly. 
 Flew too swiftly for young Jimmie ; 
 For he made but little progress 
 Wooing the fair maiden Lena. 
 All at once he grew so drowsy. 
 Grew so sleepy and so happy. 
 That he scarce could keep his senses ; 
 Yet his busy brain was thinking. 
 Was comparing earth to heaven ; 
 Ere he knew it, he was sleeping. 
 Soundly sleeping, soundly snoring. 
 With his head upon her shoulder, 
 Lost to all in sweet oblivion ; 
 Both his hands were tightly clasping, 
 Tightly clasping one of Lena's. 
 
 But oblivious of position. 
 Something of his mental musings, 
 Faintly oozed in words confusedly. 
 Something of his dark designing. 
 For a moment Lena watched him, 
 For a moment sat and studied ; 
 Then her eyes began to sparkle, 
 
 I I 
 

 1 
 
 l|T*, 
 
 i 
 
 1 
 
 11 ' 
 
 1 
 
 i 
 
 
 118 
 
 READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 
 
 ft) • 
 
 iijiiisjii'l 
 
 I 
 
 mvi 
 
 And the smiles her cheeks to dimple. 
 
 " Now," she thought, " I guess I'll teach him 
 
 / care nothing for his favors. 
 
 That I'm always used to having, 
 
 Manners shown me in my presence ; 
 
 That at least there is one maiden 
 
 Who will not believe his nonsense ; 
 
 One, at least, whose heart's in safety, 
 
 Spite of all his pretty sayings." 
 
 Then she slowly reached her hand forth. 
 
 Noiseless reached and got the poker. 
 
 Thrust it in the glowing embers, 
 
 Held it there till it was heated. 
 
 And sweet Lena sat still musing. 
 How hard-hearted ! How to manage, 
 How deserving some good lesson, 
 Only could that heated poker, 
 As ha7-d-hiartedy fairly mate him ; 
 And if I do by this poker 
 Kiss his lips the deed shall mine be. 
 He can boast that Lena Lewis 
 Kiss'd the lips of Jimmie Davis, 
 " He the sweetest of all poets." 
 " Now," she thought, " I'll sweetly kiss him." 
 And she touched the red-hot poker 
 To the lips of sleeping Jimmie. 
 " Gracious ! goodness ! Lena Lewis, 
 Do you know with whom you're denliiig? " 
 In hot anger he demanded. 
 
 Lena stood there wildly laughing, 
 With the poker stood there laughing, 
 All her answer was a " ha ! ha ! " 
 Quick as thought he snatched his beaver, 
 Swore an oath, and to the doorway 
 Swift he sped, still swearing, threatening, 
 Raging Hke a maddened demon. 
 Still behind him, on the night wind, 
 
11 
 
 JiMMIE DAVIS. 
 
 Came that " ha, ha! " growing fainter; 
 Still he heard the voice of Lena, 
 Calling to him in the distance — 
 " Come again, dear Jimmie Davis ! 
 Do call soon ! oh, lia ha, ha ha ! " 
 
 On he plodded over snow-drifts, 
 Over fields all waste and pathless, 
 Foaming, raving, half-distracted 
 From the pain the burn inflicted. 
 Then the wind that whistled round him 
 Screamed out " sold ! " and went on laughing, 
 And the monarch of the forest. 
 With its naked branches swaying. 
 In the breezes waving, bending, 
 Groaned out " sold ! " and shook with laughter. 
 As he passed beneath its branches. 
 And the night birds screamed around him, 
 " Ha, ha, ha, O, Jimmie Davis." 
 
 Homeward hurried Jimmie Davis, 
 Heavy-hearted, weary-footed ; 
 When at last he gained his chamber. 
 In his heart he had determined. 
 Had resolved that Lena Lewis 
 Should yet love him, wildly, madly ; 
 Then he'd coolly turn and leave her, 
 With a taunting "ha, ha," leave her, 
 It would be revenge worth winning. 
 Thus to woo her and then leave her. 
 
 With these thoughts the weary lover 
 Sank to sleep, the kiss forgotten. 
 But fair Lena kept no secrets, 
 Not for Jimmie Davis even ; 
 Too much fun it was to plague him. 
 Not to tell how she had kissed him, 
 He the poet, and the singer. 
 So, before another evening 
 
 119 
 
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 Ii 
 
120 
 
 READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 
 
 ii.- 
 
 f ^-^ 
 
 Spread its pall upon the village, 
 Ere another sun had vanished, 
 Sunk behind the western hill-tops, 
 All the neighbors knew that Jimmie 
 Had been wooing, but not winning, 
 He, the poet and the singer, 
 Had been kissed while he was sleeping. 
 
 Merry maidens passed him laughing, 
 Still upon his lips was burning 
 Farewell kiss of Lena Lewis. 
 Many moons have come and vanished — 
 Many snows arid many harvests. 
 Many rushings of great waters 
 From the mountains in the spring-time ; 
 Many frosts, all white and glistening. 
 Since the eve of Jimmie's wooing. 
 Still he v/rites and courts the muses, 
 Writes his thoughts in lines poetic ; 
 Still he sings as if inspired, 
 Sings of joy and peace and honor ; 
 But he never once has boasted 
 Of his favor with the maidens, 
 Since that long-remembered evening, 
 When he went to court fair Lena . 
 For upon his lips, still youthful. 
 Is a scar that ne'er will leave him. 
 Still he wields his pen poetic, 
 Always are his accents thrilling, 
 Yet old naughty thoughts within him 
 Do his lips present more fairly. 
 
 — Glenn. 
 
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LOVE, tlQUOR AND LAW. 
 
 121 
 
 'I 
 
 LOVE, LIQUOR AND LAW. 
 
 (A short report of a case before the Magistrate at Toronto^ a 
 
 few years ago). 
 
 ' O'SULLIVAN VS WHITESIDE. 
 
 Mr. Collins appeared for the plaintiff, and Mr. Dempsey 
 for the defendant. 
 
 It was stated that defenc' nt ( who is a widow lady) em- 
 ployed the plaintiff, (who is a schoolmaster), to instruct her 
 children in the usual branches of polite education, but by 
 reason of his misconduct and dissipated habits, she had to 
 dispense with his services before the termination of his en- 
 gagement, and refused to remunerate him for the services he 
 had rendered. 
 
 Mr. Dempsey, for the defence, contended that the 
 plaintiff's misconduct by presuming to make love to his 
 lovely client and other misdemeanors while engaged in the 
 instruction of her children, disentitled him to his salary. 
 
 Mr. Collins — It is the first time that love-making was 
 considered so serious an offence. If lovers were to be 
 doomed criminals, the largest portion of our countrymen 
 would now be in that very undesirable position in a penal 
 colony. Possibly, my learned friend among the rest. But 
 the fact is, the plaintiff has been very badly treated, and 
 comes before this court to seek redress. He has been 
 uncer moniously ejected from the house of the defendant, as 
 also from her affections without getting the usual notice to 
 quit. 
 
 We do not deny that when strongly encouraged by the 
 defendant, he, no doubt like the generality of good men 
 similarly circumstanced, drafted a declaration of his affections. 
 
 Mr. Dempsey — But my fair client had the good taste to 
 demur \.o his declaration. 
 
 Magistrate — And Mr. Collins' client was in that instance 
 non suited. 
 
 Mr. Collins — It has been noted that " the course of true 
 
 
 '■ I 
 
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 ■11 
 
 I ' ! 
 
1^2 
 
 READINGS AND feEClTATIOl^S. 
 
 J / 
 
 . .it 
 
 love never runs smooth," and it has been verified in the 
 present instance. 
 
 The plaintiff having entered the witness box made a 
 graceful bow to the court, which would have done credit to 
 a disciple of Chesterfield. The amorous pedni^ogue presented 
 rather a grotesque appearance. His phy ' .omy bore all the 
 inflammatory appearance of inveterate u^auch. The nasal 
 organ prominently threatened to come in hostile collision 
 with his chin, and was profusely gemmed with ruby evidence, 
 confirmatory of the suspicion that he was not a lifelong total 
 abstainer. At the same time his whole contour was notably 
 indicative of fun, frolic and natural drollery. 
 
 Being sworn and examined gave evidence : — I am a 
 preceptor by profession. The defendant agreed to pay me 
 two hundred dollars a year, with board, washing and lodging, 
 for " teaching the young ideas of her children how to shoot," 
 and I accordingly magnified their intellect, exalted their 
 ideas, extended their faculties, elevated their minds ; and 
 under my fostering tuition they made such astounding and 
 prodigious progress by my preceptorship in Greek and 
 Latin, as to be able to demonstrate with mathematical pre- 
 cision the age of the Grecian Helen, the day she eloped 
 with the Trogan Paris. 
 
 Magistrate — You are a very learned man I perceive, Mr. 
 O'SuUivan. 
 
 Wit{iess — That is not all your worship. I have also 
 illuminated their sentiments, clarified their thinking, irradi- 
 ated their understandings and crystalized their conceptions ; 
 and as for geometry, I taught them to construct an cqui- 
 latural triangle on the point of a needle. The fact is, your 
 worship, my lamented mother (rest her soul in glory) told me, 
 and I have good reason to rely on her word, that the first 
 day I was ushered into this world of care and trouble, the 
 nine muses descended from Mount Parnassus and smiled 
 on my cradle, so it has been second nature to me ever since 
 to be a genius. 
 
 Magistrate — And yet it seems your employer did not ap- 
 preciate your services ? 
 
 Witness — After all this, the defendant had the misan- 
 
LOVE, LIQUOR AND LAW. 
 
 123 
 
 rifled in the 
 
 e ever since 
 
 thropic audacity to tell me to '' amputate my cane" or, in 
 vulgar phraseology, to ^^ cut my stick. '^ and added, by way of 
 emphasis, never again to let my ugly phiz be visible within 
 her domicile ; and all this too, may it please your worship, 
 when Lola Montez might have danced an Irish reel in my 
 pocket without the danger of once knocking her toe against 
 the Queen's picture. Your worship may know that from the 
 commencement of the world the perfidious sex have been 
 doing mischief. Eve brought misery and woe on all man- 
 kind ; and there was the faithless Helen, caused a ten year's 
 war, and laid old Troy in ashes. There was Cleopatra 
 ruined Mark Anthony; and that Herodias' daughter induced 
 King Herod to behead John the Baptist. But I need not 
 try to remind you of a millionth of the mischief traceable to 
 their treacherous machinations. 
 
 Magistrate — It appears, however, Mr. O'Sullivan, you 
 entertained a different opinion of the sex when you were 
 making love to the defendant ? 
 
 Witness — Yes ; but after pulverizing my heart, she jilted, 
 and then exterminated me. The poet was right when he said 
 
 " Woman ! that fair and foul deceiver. 
 How prompt are striplings to believe her." 
 
 Cross examined by Mr. Dempsey — I never courted Mrs. 
 Whiteside till I saw she was anxious for the sport herself; 
 and sure I would be no Irishman if I did not reciprocate the 
 celestial feeling. I have a love token here that she gave me, 
 and a remarkable one it is too. 
 
 Here Mr. O'Sullivan produced a handkerchief, having on 
 one side a representation of Cardinal Wiseman and Lola 
 Montez waltzing together, and on the other side Bishop 
 McHale and Parson Gregg, dancing a hornpipe. The pro- 
 duction of this article produced some merriment in court. 
 
 Magistrate — Did Mrs. Whiteside at any time complain of 
 incapacity or inattention in the performance of your official 
 duties ? 
 
 Witness — I never refused to augment the capacity of my 
 pupils in the higher branches, but I would not descend so 
 low as to demonstrate vulgar fractions, that I would consider 
 
 Hi 
 
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124 
 
 READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 
 
 I;:! 
 
 I 
 
 infra dig., quite beneath me, "pauIo majora conanms^'' I 
 soar higher. It was not for common or plebian purposes I 
 read Horace and Virgil, and Homer and Lucian. I must 
 support the dignity of my profession, and leave ciphering to 
 hedge schoolmasters who are ignorant of the sublime 
 beauties of the Meonian bard. 
 
 Mr. Detnpsey — But what have you to say to the positive 
 charge of drunkenness and consequent incapacity and dis- 
 orderly conduct ? 
 
 Witness — I was never, to say, drunk, but was a little mel- 
 low, perhaps on Patrick's day. Shure I would be no loyal 
 son of Erin unless I sprinkled the shamrock with a. little 
 " Mountain dew " on Paddy's own day. Every plant and 
 every flower requires to be moistened sometimes, it pro- 
 motes vegetation. Was it not with whiskey St. Patrick 
 banished all the serpents from the blessed country. Every- 
 body in this country, as well as in the dear green Isle, knows 
 (even my countryman at the sign of the big padlock on 
 King street can prove,) that the Saint's Mother kept a shee- 
 been in the County of Tipperary, and all the great poets 
 from Hesiod to Burns were loud in their laudations of the 
 "barley bree." 
 
 Tom Moore tells us to 
 
 " Fill a bumper fair, every drop I'd sprinkle 
 On the brow of care, smooths away a wrinkle." 
 
 A letter was handed to witness, and he acknowledged it 
 as his production. 
 
 Mr. Dempsey then read therefrom : 
 
 " Most adored idol of my soul. 
 Whene'er I view those lips of thine. 
 Their ruby hue invites my fervent nine." 
 
 The sparkling brilliancy and fiery lustre of your eyes, 
 have turned my melting heart to a cinder; your jet black 
 ringlets have bewildered my seven senses ; I do wish you 
 would throw off that widow's cap, and emancipate your 
 beaming countenance from the bondage of its narrow 
 borders. 
 
LOVE, LIQUOR AND LAW. 
 
 125 
 
 •• "How altered your air with that close cap you wear, 
 'Tis destroying your hair which should flow out so free ; 
 
 Be no longer a churl, of your black silken curl, 
 Ochone ! Ochone ! O Widow Machree." 
 
 Most peerless divinity of my inmost heart, whose beauty 
 superexcels the Helen's and Venus' of antiquity, as the 
 moon outsplendours the minor constellations ! take pity on 
 my bleeding heart. 'Tis true my head is bleached with the 
 frost of fifty winters, but Cupid has kindled such a glow in 
 my heart, that like Mount Etna, whose top is covered with 
 snow, at the same time is a body of burning lava in its 
 centre, so my poor heart, red as cinders, is sending forth its 
 heaving sighs to pay the devoted homage of these white 
 locks to those adorable black curls of thine. 
 
 With superadmiring joy and hope, I take the liberty of 
 subscribing myself your burning-hearted, ever-worshipping 
 lover, Patrick McCarthy O'Sullivan. 
 
 Mr. Denipsey — Now are you not ashamed for having 
 written such a letter to the mother of your pupils. 
 
 Witness — And for what should I be ashamed? I can 
 truly say with my poetical friend Horace : 
 
 " Vixi nuper id neus puellis, 
 Et militavi non sine gloria." 
 
 Which, if you wish translated, I will do so to oblige you. 
 In the Saxon tongue it means : 
 
 " I was but lately called upon duty. 
 
 And bravely I fought as the champion of beauty." 
 
 The witness then turning to the bench made three most 
 obsequious bows and retired from the box. 
 
 Mr. De?npsey — I am prepared to prove to your worship 
 by undoubted evidence, that plaintiff was repeatedly drunk 
 and disorderly while engaged in teaching his client's child- 
 ren, and otherwise, also, that he misconducted himself so as 
 to disentitle him to his salary. 
 
 KUty Doherty, sworn and examined — I am living in 
 
 VI 
 
 111 
 
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 126 
 
 READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 
 
 ii B; 
 
 1.1 <!■•': 
 
 service of Mrs. Whiteside ; I know Paddy O'Sullivan the 
 school-master, and shure good right I have ; many's the 
 time I had a scalded heart wid him sthriven to put him to 
 bed when he was drunk ; if the big lake bay forninst the 
 city there was whiskey, I believe he would drink it dry 
 in a week's time. 
 
 Mr. Dempsey — But now tell only what you know about 
 the school-master. 
 
 Witness — Well on Patrick's day last, he went to Polly 
 Kelly's sheeben at the corner of Nelson street, (he lets on 
 to be courtin' her too,) and there he drunk all the live long 
 day from morning to night and two days after ; when the 
 mistress sent me and Biddy Burk there to bring him home ; 
 1 wish you had just seen the condition we got him in ; but 
 I must thry to tell ye ; he was nearly stretched, but partly 
 bent along the one side of the ould stove as dead drunk as 
 that kind of drunk cud be. Then the one side of his hat 
 and one of his whiskers was entirely burnt nearly clear off, 
 an he was a snorin' as loud, you'd think it was Tim Shano- 
 han had come over all the way from ould Ireland, and was 
 blowin' the big horn to gather the hounds on huntin' day. 
 
 Mr. Dempsey — Well, but go on with the particulars of 
 what you saw and know to be true. Did you disturb his 
 repose ? 
 
 Witness — Yes, we tried our best, (Biddy and me), we 
 dragged him along as well as we could, and got some help 
 and put him on a wheelbarrow, but then he got mighty 
 cross entirely, and kicked at us and cursed like a throgin, 
 so 1 had to leave Biddy wid him to keep him engaged while 
 I whipped out to the back yard to'get a stran of the clothes 
 line to tie him to the barrow. When I got back, l^iddy 
 got her shawl and fastened one of his hands wid it, and I 
 fixed fast the other, and so we rowlcd him home to the mis- 
 tresses in the dead of the night. When we got there he 
 was mighty wake entirely, an as pale as a sheet an as cowld 
 as the lumps of ice, an we all sent for Doctlior King, and 
 when he come and seen how all was, he put a long pipe 
 down his throat, an the whiskey come galiopin' up for all 
 the wurld like the pump in the yard. 
 
LOVE, LIQUOR AND LAW. 
 
 127 
 
 know about 
 
 2r ; when the 
 
 Mr. Dempsey — But now don't describe so minutely ; tell 
 what you know of the school-master's misconduct towards 
 Mrs. Whiteside. 
 
 Witness — Well he used to be always thrublin' the mis- 
 tress wid talk and vexin' her wid love-letters, an one day 
 he axed her to let him lite his ould pipe wid the sparklin' of 
 her eyes. 
 
 Cross-examined by Mr. Collins — Yes ; and not that I say 
 it myself, I kame of decent people. My grandfather was 
 cousin Germin to Father Tim, parish priest of Doonbeg, an 
 from my mother's side, there wasn't an O'Sullivan or an 
 O'Connell from Thralee to Derrynane but was her blood 
 relations. 
 
 The Magistrate — But you are to give evidence of what 
 you know about the plaintiff in this case. 
 
 Witness — Your worship wont hinder me from telling this 
 gentleman when he axes me about my forefathers ; your 
 worship, you'd like to look at my mother when she was 
 dressed off on a Sunday goin' to Bawnogue chapel, she wore 
 a span new gown wid five full flounces, a muslin dimity cap 
 wid four borders to it, and a pair of illigint calfskin pumjjs 
 that she never put fut in till she came widin half a mile of 
 the chapel, an hir arms was better lookin' than many's the 
 face. Many's the time she was taken for one of the best in 
 the country. Another sort than that onmannerly spalpeen 
 attorney who wanted to throw a slur on my character. 
 What had his mother. It would take a spay woman to tell. 
 And he has the impidence to ax about my relations. If he 
 was only to come where my father was (may the heavens be 
 his bed and the clouds his blankets,) he wud soon find out. 
 If he must know, he was the largest and finest lookin' man 
 in the parish. He stood six feet six inches without stockins, 
 and if he had only had a pair, would have been half an inch 
 higher. That ugly attorney needn't think that my mistress 
 would marry him or his ould school-master, so I won't 
 answer any more of his crooked questions. 
 
 Mr. Collins — I won't ask any farther questions. The 
 case seems now pretty fairly before Court. 
 
 The magistrate ruled that by reason of the plaintiff's mis- 
 
w \ 
 
 "T 
 
 «'Hi 
 
 128 
 
 READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 
 
 conduct the case must be dismissed ; and poor Mr. O'SuUi- 
 ven departed much crest fallen; yet vowing vengeance 
 against the treacherous opposite sex in general, and per- 
 fidious young widows in particular with large families. 
 
 {\l 
 
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 PAT'S PAVERS. 
 
 Poor Pat had a h^avy job handling those large paving 
 stones, and had just got his pile gathered, when the cab 
 drove up in haste, to pass, but was brought to a stand-still 
 by the obstruction. " What's the delay, now?" shouted the 
 doctor, from inside the vehicle. " O these great pavers, a 
 great heap right in the road," replied the driver. " Is there 
 no one there to clear the way ? " shouted the passenger 
 impatiently. "In course of ii'me," answered Pat, "yer 
 honor, the road 'ill be clear." " More like eternity," bawled 
 the doctor, enraged at Pat's deliberate movements. " We 
 had all to wait to be born, I always heard, sir," said Pat, no 
 ways daunted. "You had better move the pavers, pretty 
 lively," now retorted the doctor with an oath. " An' where 
 might yer honor have me move them to in a jiffy like that?" 
 drawled Pat. ^^ Move them, sir, I say, move them — move 
 them to Hell if you like," shouted the doctor still more 
 excitedly. "An' wasn't I jist thinkin'," coolly answered Pat, 
 "that if I moved them to Heaven they would be surer 
 never be in your honor's way any more." 
 
 THE CLERGYMAN AND THE WIDOW. 
 
 The following grai)hic picture is taken from the Dean ; or 
 " The Popular Preacher." By Berkeley Aiken : 
 
 "And must we lose you, Mr. O'Moore?" The widow 
 burst into tears. " Must we lose you ?" she repeated patheti- 
 cally. " Alas ! what will become of the poor erring sheep 
 you now lead beside the still waters ? Alas ! what will be- 
 
THE CLERGYMAN AND THE WIDOW. 
 
 129 
 
 come of me ! But tell me at least where you purpose going?" 
 
 " I don't know myself, I cannot tell ; I shall go to town 
 and seek employment." 
 
 " Then, wherever you finally settle, I shall follow !" said 
 the widow. " Your ministry has been blessed to my soul, I 
 cannot live without it ; my spiritual life would languish and 
 die ; I must — I must follow you !" 
 
 And Maurice O'Moore was something more than man, for 
 he listened unmoved to these gentle flatteries; not one 
 entered his heart. He only drew further back. 
 
 " You talk of seeking, waiting for employment," said the 
 undisconcerted widow. 
 
 As O'Moore had retreated, she had proportionately ad- 
 vanced, and now she was quite near, looking up in his face 
 with a sort of mock innocent boldness. " Why should you 
 seek ? Why should you wait ?" 
 
 And the pretty white hand was laid affectionately on his 
 arm. 
 
 How he longed to shake it off! How he longed to retract 
 further, but he was actually in a corner. The widow's soft 
 eyes looked softer, a veil of tears came over them, the tears 
 overflowed, they ran down her rosy cheeks, pink and soft as 
 over-ripe peaches. 
 
 " Take what Providence sends you," she sighed ; " my 
 fortune is unfettered ; be its absolute master ; purchase for 
 yourself a good living, in a situation where your talents may 
 be known and appreciated, and in return give me your 
 
 esteem, your friendship, your . Ah, you must have 
 
 seen, you must have known " and sobs stopped the 
 
 lady's voice. 
 
 One hand pressed an exquisitely fine cambric handker- 
 chief to her eyes, still leaving the glowing cheek visible, the 
 other still rested on the preacher's arm. 
 
 " A good living ! In a place where his talents would be 
 known and appreciated !" Those words darted through 
 Maurice O' Moore's whole soul ! they moved him as the 
 blandishments of the widow could not. 
 
 A sudden gleam lit his eye ; he forgot his companion ; 
 he travelled on — on, in imagination to fame and distinction, 
 
 ii i 
 
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 P 
 
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 130 
 
 READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 
 
 '15 
 
 He pressed his hand tightly over his eyes, and plunged into 
 an abyss of thought, while the widow stood patiently by, and 
 her patient hand still lay resting on his arm, waiting — she 
 knew he was deciding her fate and his own. 
 
 There was a faint, weak voice whispered in his heart, 
 " Stop, Maurice ! stop, there is yet time ! stop !" but a 
 stronger voice was shouting to him from the mountain tops 
 of ambition, " Come up, come up, why tarriest thou ? Mount 
 on the golden ladder !" and the strong voice slew the soft 
 whisper, it waited a moment plaintively, and wailing died. 
 As if with a sudden spasm, O'Moore snatched his hand 
 from his eyes, seized that patient hand still on his arm, and 
 in broken accents begged permission to retain it for Hfe. 
 
 While he spoke, he must have forgot it was human, quite 
 forgot that flesh and blood could feel, for he grasped it as if 
 it were an iron vice — grasped it with a fierce tenacity ; it 
 was not a beautiful woman's hand, no, it was the sealed 
 bond that secured him his good living, wherein all his ambi- 
 tious dreams might fructify. 
 
 The widow gave a gentle scream, not from physical pain 
 (she could bear that) and not loud enough to alarm the 
 servants, but she thought it right to assume a little surprise, 
 and to seem quite frightened at the offer she had long looked 
 for, long laboured foi. 
 
 But the scream subsided, the agitation cooled dowTi on 
 both sides, and the betrothed lovers sat together till the 
 candles burnt dim in their sockets and finally went out. 
 
 The fire-light burnt with a dim flame, and the rich room 
 was in shadow, while the lovers still sat together with hands 
 clasped. They were silent; O'Moore shaded his brow, even 
 from the last lingering rays of light in the fire. 
 
 Through the increasing gloom, Mrs. Craig looked 
 piercingly at Maurice ; it was a glance of eager triumph 
 which she cast on the being she had bought with her gold. 
 She knew he did not love her, she knew that he had sold 
 himself, but she felt satisfied. 
 
 From the first day of their meeting, she had coveted to 
 bear the name of O'Moore, why, she best knew. 
 
 But some over-inquisitive Good Templar has been asking, 
 
 •'"If 
 I 3 
 
Ihad coveted to 
 
 THE LAWYER AND THE CATS. 
 
 131 
 
 and the record, it seems, does not supply answer to the 
 inquiry, as to whether Mrs. Craig had treated her beloved to 
 a drop of anything more heart-stirring or more brain-soften- 
 ing than a tear drop ? 
 
 THE LAWYERS AND THE CATS. 
 
 Two lawyers in court, Mr. Flaw, Mr. Flayhim, 
 On opposite sides were engaged to succeed. 
 
 Each presenting a case so quite clear for his client 
 That for judge or for jury there scarce could be need. 
 
 The day's arduous duties now closed vith the supper, 
 All seemed bent on having the quiet required 
 
 For repose to prepare for next day, was the question, 
 And skill that could answer might well be admired. 
 
 They supp'd, and they sipp'd, and they smoked and raised 
 questions, 
 
 And now argued cases just settled at court. 
 Re-adjusted great issues, demerits and merits, 
 
 Political parties, and porter and port. 
 
 The inns being crowded, and customers willing, 
 Took refuge wherever a space could be had : 
 
 The long room for bedroom, and curtains for pillows. 
 Impromptu shake downs were declared "not so bad." 
 
 On each side of said room was arranged a long lair, 
 Each man took his station and used the boot-jack; 
 
 Long space in the centre must serve as a wardrobe, 
 Here unrobing promiscuous each man placed his pack. 
 
 Those two, who on opposite sides in the court house 
 Each other plied hard with nice points of the law, 
 
 On this floor, now directly in juxtaposition. 
 Were placed Mr. Flayhim anent Mr. Flaw. 
 
 f 
 
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 ■iwf 
 
 132 
 
 READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 
 
 The adage, undoubted, once more illustrated. 
 
 Was here strictly truthful admitted by all ; 
 Weakest goes to the wall, in this instance certain. 
 
 The beds were arranged with the heads to the wall. 
 
 But the din and disturbance had scarcely subsided. 
 When unlooked for annoyance appeared to affright ; 
 
 Some cats, with a mind to discuss feline matters, 
 Selected that room to hold court for the night. 
 
 Repose now so needful was hopefully pending. 
 
 To be thus completely frustrated, undone, 
 Was really provoking, yet here a smart lawyer 
 
 Might turn to advantage, perhaps, to some fun. 
 
 The cats giving trouble must sure be evicted 
 
 And punished, if need be, that could be done sure ; 
 
 Annoying commotion, the useful profession 
 Of lawyer was strictly intended to cure. 
 
 All quiet a moment — the horrible squalling 
 
 Re-echoed and answered on every side ; 
 This must be abated, frustrated, defeated. 
 
 Declared the two lawyers, whatever betide. 
 
 Co-incident curious, each lawyer sagacious 
 Devised the same mode of aggressive attack ; 
 
 Each had planned to get up and secure a good weapon. 
 Each had thought that the weapon should be the boot-jack. 
 
 Yet revolving in mind, what about a revolver. 
 
 Each thought he could make the stout book-jack revolve, 
 
 Thinking then of the means to procure the good weapon, 
 Directly then acting on this high resolve ; 
 
 Both tried to accomplish the plan now determined, 
 Lay hold from the heap on his weapon to suit. 
 
 Made effort and each done the best in power. 
 Flaw got hold of the boot-jack and Flayhim a boot. 
 
THE LAWYER AND THE CATS. 133 
 
 But how to secure the desired consummation, 
 To delude the pooi cats, to await the full stroke ; 
 
 Was the chief test of skill and of stratagem curious, 
 And where would come in the chief point of the joke. 
 
 Thought Flayhim, I have it, I'll quietly crawl up 
 
 Lay hold of my weapon, cautiously wait 
 Till attracted my cat is by my imitation, 
 
 Then finish the nuisance as certain as fate. 
 
 The plan so concocted, exactly the same plan, 
 In both minds now ripened, must promptly be worked ; 
 
 The cats unsuspicious would come at the signal. 
 Not fearing foul play or the mischief that lurked. 
 
 To bring the unfortunate victims, unwary. 
 Within the arm reach, and the blow that would quiet ; 
 
 The cry of the cat surely lawyer could mimic, 
 Then " mew," each decided the way he would try it. 
 
 Flaw cautiously moving half up and attempting 
 The "mew" in such tone as " Fan it must seem from," 
 
 Then Flayhim as cautious and careful made answer, 
 " Myeu-awe," in the tone of the counterfeit Tom. 
 
 Yet closer, and closer, preparing for action. 
 
 And studying art, also, natural law ; 
 " Mew, mew," squeaked Mr. Flayhim, 
 
 " Myeu-awe," answered Flaw. 
 
 Each approached simultaneous, determined on vengeance, 
 And dealt out such a blow as at once might suffice. 
 
 But received the same moment the measure he meted, 
 In strength well adapted as well as device. 
 
 Light was called for, and revealed astounding disclosures, 
 Immense consternation, some bruises and blood, 
 
 The cats had absconded unfleeced by the lawyers. 
 The case was discussed and the "feat" pronouced good. 
 
 i;' i 
 
 \ '" 
 
 
134 
 
 READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 
 
 Both boot-jack and boot had done full execution, 
 
 Both champions had managed with consummate skill, 
 
 Each stroke told with terrible torce how in earnest 
 Administered both with a power and a will. 
 
 The doctor declared that the cases were serious, 
 But hoped by great care he might possibly cure, 
 
 Thanked the cats and the boot-jack, and landlord and la^^yers, 
 Bad wind that blows nobody good he was sure. 
 
 From this small adventure, just scarcely worth telling, 
 
 The moral reflection we ask you to draw : 
 The drink makes men do what they never intended. 
 
 Sober cats may befool even men of the law. 
 
 
 ,v DISTURBING. 
 
 Two good-natured young men boarding in the same es- 
 tablishment, being in temper and in many respects similarly 
 situated, frequently as companions being abroad to rather a 
 late hour at night, enjoyed the confidence of their landlady 
 to such an extent as to be allowed the use of a latch key by 
 which to obtain admission when it might so happen that 
 they remained somewhere else to rather a late hour, and it 
 might not be convenient for any one to stay up to admit 
 them. 
 
 The young men occupied the same room, but had each a 
 bed to himself. They sometimes took a little 
 drink more than was quite consistent with perfect appre- 
 hension of all they were about. Once when in the state 
 which is sometimes described as somewhat be-muddled, one 
 night they admitted themselves. This time they somehow 
 both entertained the idea that it would be the most prudent 
 way to retire quietly, and being each confident he could in 
 the dark find his own bed, they resolved to proceed accord- 
 ingly. 
 
 After a few minutes of almost noiseless movements, the 
 
 f- li' 
 
POETIC OPINIONS. 
 
 135 
 
 silence was broken by a suppressed earnest call from one to 
 the other. 
 
 " I say, Jim, this is a fix ! What do you think ; as you 
 live there's a fellow in my bed." 
 
 "Well," replied Bob, "that is a singular coincidence, the 
 same here ; and a most uncomfortable affair it is ; my fellow 
 has most terrible cold feet." 
 
 " Well," responded Jim, " my fellow is warm enough, but 
 the worst of it is, he has taken up most of the bed. What 
 are you going to do with him. I'm bound to kick my in- 
 truder out to the floor." 
 
 " Serve him right," quoth Bob, " and here goes for an- 
 other of the same." 
 
 Then another pause, and the intense breathing and violent 
 struggle in which elbows and extremities were in requisition, 
 was closed by a heavy thud on the floor. Again aloud 
 voice inquired : 
 
 " Well Bob, how have you succeeded." 
 
 " I tell you what, Jim, I have sent my fellow adrift 
 sprawling," was the reply. 
 
 " You have done better than I have," whined Bob. " It's 
 all the other way with me ; he has with his cold feet kicked 
 me right out, my side on the boot-jack. You must come to 
 my help." 
 
 Kindly he did so. Then it dawned on both, they had 
 simply got into the one bed. 
 
 t 
 
 POETIC OPINIONS. 
 
 Homer, Pope and Milton. — It may be presumed that 
 Homer was a water-drinker, and his great translator too, — 
 from the following passage in the sixth book of the Iliad 
 with the note subjoined. 
 
 Hecuba, it will be remembered, offers wine to Hector in 
 the interview with her son v,hich immediately precedes the 
 scene of his parting with Andromache, 
 
h'J 
 
 t t! 
 
 136 READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 
 
 " Far hence be Bacchus' gifts (the chief rejoined) — 
 Inflaming wine, pernicious to mankind, 
 Unnerves the limbs, and dulls the noble mind." 
 
 To which very sober text, Pope has thought proper to 
 append his own opinions as follows : — 
 
 " This maxim of Hector's concerning wine, has a great 
 deal of truth in it. It is a vulgar mistake to imagine the 
 use of wine either raises the spirits or increases strength. 
 The best physicians agree with Homer on this point, what- 
 ever our modern soldiers may object to this old heroic 
 regime. One may take notice that Samson, as well as 
 Hector, was a water-drinker, to which Milton alludes in the 
 " Samson Agonistes " — 
 
 " Wherever fountain or fresh current flow'd, 
 
 I drank. Nor envied them the grape 
 
 Whose heads that turbulent liquor fills with fumes." 
 
 Chorus — O madness to think use of strongest wines, 
 And strongest drink support of health, 
 When God with these forbidden made choice to rear, 
 His mighty champion strong beyond compare. 
 Whose drink was only from the limpid brook." 
 
 Longfellow pictures Prince Henry as realizing the power 
 of strong drink to bewilder the mind: — 
 
 " I stand renewed in all my strength. 
 
 Beneath me I can feel 
 
 The great earth stagger and reel. 
 
 As if the feet of a descending God 
 
 Upon its surface trod, 
 
 And like a pebble it rolled beneath his heel ! 
 
 This, O brave physician, this !" 
 
 Angel. — " Touch not the goblet more, 
 It will make thy heart sore 
 To its very core ; 
 Its perfume is the breath 
 Of the angel of death, 
 
 :' % 
 
THE HOUSE-TOP SAINT. 
 
 And the light that within it lies, 
 Is the flash of his demon eyes, 
 Beware ! O, beware ! 
 For sickness and sorrow and care 
 All are there." 
 
 137 
 
 THE HOUSE-TOP SAINT. 
 
 (Being the substance of a conversation between a coloured 
 laundress and a youthful teacher.) 
 
 Vs mighty fo' poo' white trash, nor yet like any of dese 
 onsanctified col'd folks dat grab deir liberty like a dog grabs 
 a bone — no thanks to nobody ! 
 
 Thus the sable, sturdy, Sibyl Mclvor ended a long boast 
 of her prosperity since she had become her own mistress, to 
 a young teacher from the North, as she was arranging his 
 snowy linen in his trunk. 
 
 " I'm truly glad to hear of all this comfort and plenty, 
 Sibyl ; but I hope your treasures are not all laid up on earth. 
 I hope you are a Christian ? " asked the young stranger. 
 
 Sibyl put up her great hands, and elevated her gay turban ; 
 looked the beardless youth in the eye and exclaimed with a 
 sarcastic smile, " You hope I'm a Christian, do you ? Why, 
 sonny, I was a 'spectable sort o' Christian afore your mammy 
 was bom, I reckons ! But for dese last twenty-five years, 
 I'se been a mighty powerful one — one o' de kind dat makes 
 Satan shake in his hoofs — I is one ob de house-top saints, 
 sonny !" 
 
 " House-top saints ? what kind of saints are those ?" asked 
 the young Northerner, modestly. 
 
 " Ha, ha, ha ! " laughed Sibyl ; " I thought like's not you 
 never even heerd tell on 'em, up your way. Dey's mighty 
 scarce any whar ; but de Lor's got one on 'em, at any rate, 
 on dis plantation ! " replied Sibyl, triumphantly. 
 
 " And that is you ?" said the young man. 
 
 " Yes, sonny, dat is me I " 
 
138 
 
 READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 
 
 T ^i 
 
 W ' 
 
 . ' ii 
 
 H 
 
 ** Then tell me what you mean by being a house-top 
 saint?" 
 
 " Well, I means dat I's been t'rough all de stories o' my 
 Fader's house, from de cellar up ; and now I's fairly on de 
 ruff — yes, on de very ridge pole ; and dare I sits and sings 
 and shouts and sees heaven — like you never see it t'rough 
 de clouds down yere." 
 
 " How did you get there, auntie ? " 
 
 " How does you get from de cellar to de parlor, and from 
 de parlor to de chamber, and from de chamber, to de ruff? 
 Why, the builder has put sta'rs thar, and you sees 'em and 
 puts your feet on 'em and mounts, ha ? " 
 
 "But there are the same stairs in out Father's house for all 
 His children, as for you ; yet you say house-top saints are 
 very scarce ? " 
 
 " Sartin, sonny. Star's don't get people up, 'less dey 
 mounts 'em. If dere was a million o' star's leadin' up to 
 glory, it would'nt help dem dat sits down at de bottom and 
 howls and mourns 'bout how helpless dey is ! Brudder 
 Adam, dere, (dat's a blackin' o' your boots,) he's de husban' 
 o' my bussum, and yet he's nothin' but only a poor, down- 
 cellar 'sciple, sittin' in de dark, and whinin' and lamentin' 
 'cause he ain't up star's ! I says to him, says I, Brudder — 
 (I's alius called him Brudder since he was born into de king- 
 dom) — " why don't you come up into de light ? " 
 
 " *0h/ says he, *Sibby, I's too onwordy; I doesn't desarve 
 de light dat God has made for de holy onei ' 
 
 " Phoo, says I, Brudder Adam ! Don't you 'member, 
 says I, when our massa done married de gov'ness, arter old 
 missus' die ? Miss Alice, she was as poor as de unfeadered 
 chicken ; but did she go down cellar and sit 'mong de po'k 
 barr'ls and de trash 'cause she was poor and wasn't wordy 
 to live up star's ? JVbf she ! She tuk her place to de head 
 o' de table, and w'ar all de lacery and jewelry massa gib her, 
 and hold up her head high, like she was sayin', I's no more 
 poo' gov'ness, teaching Col'n Mclvor's chil'n ; but I's de 
 Col'n's b'lov'd wife, and I stan's for de moder of his chil'n, 
 as she had a right to say ! And de Corn love her all de 
 
THE HOUSE-TOP SAINT. 
 
 139 
 
 )S, arter old 
 
 more for her not bein' a fool and settin' do^\^l cellar 'mong 
 de po'k barr'ls ! 
 
 " Dere, sonny, dat"s de way I talk to Brudder Adam ! 
 But so fur it haint fetched him up ! De poor deluded 
 cretur' thinks he's humble, when he's only low-vimded and 
 grovellin' like ! It's unwordy of a blood-bought soul for to 
 stick to de cold, dark cellar, when he mought live in de light 
 and warmf, up on de house-top ! " 
 
 " That's very true, Sibyl; but few of us reach the house- 
 top;" said the young man thoughtfully. 
 
 " Mo' fools you, den ! " cried Sibyl. "De house-top is 
 dere, and de sta'rs is dere, and de grand glorious Master is 
 dere, up 'bove all, callin' to you day and night. 'Frien' come 
 up higher ! ' He reaches down his shinin' han' and offers 
 for to draw you up ; but you shakes your head and pulls 
 back and says, * No, no, Lord ; I isn't nothing.' 
 
 "Is dat de way to treat Him who has bought life and light 
 for you ? Oh, shame on you, sonny, and on all de down- 
 cellar and parlor and chamber Christians ! " 
 
 " What are parlor Christians auntie ? " asked the young 
 man. 
 
 " Parlor Christians, honey? AVhy dem is de ones dat gets 
 barly o' de cellar and goes straightway and forgets what kind 
 o' creturs dey was down dere ! Dey grow proud and dresses 
 up fine, like de worl's folks, and dances, and sings worldly 
 trash o' songs, and has only just 'ligion enough to make a 
 show wid. Our ole missus, she use to train 'mong her col'd 
 folks wuss den ole King P'urio did 'mong de Gyptians. But, 
 bless you, de minute de parson or any oder good brudder or 
 sister come along, how did she tune up her harp ! She 
 was mighty 'ligious in de parlor. 
 
 " I do think missus got to heaven, wid all her infarmities. 
 But she didn't get very high up till de bridegroom come and 
 called for her ! Den she said one dead-o'-night, * Oh Sibby,' 
 says she — (she held tight on to my han' ;) — * Oh, Sibby, if 
 you could go along o' me, and I could keep hold o' your 
 garments, I'd have hope o' getting t'rough de shinin' gate, ! 
 your does and your face and your bans shines like silver 
 Sibby!" says she. 
 
 I 
 
 
140 
 
 READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 
 
 :■ 
 
 # 
 
 " Dear soul, says I, dis light yea see isn't mine 1 It all 
 comes 'fleeted on to poor black Sibby from de cross ; and 
 dere is heaps more of it to shine on to you and every other 
 poor sinner dat will come near enough to cotch de rays ! 
 
 " ' Oh,' says she, ' Sibby, when I heard you shoutin' Glory 
 to God and talkin' o' Him on de House-top, I tought it was 
 all su'stition and igno'ance. But now. Oh Sibby, I'd like to 
 touch de hem o' your garment, and wipe de dust off your 
 shoes, if I could on'y ketch a glimpse o' Christ' 
 
 / Do you b'lieve dat you's a sinner, missus ? says I. 
 
 " * Yes, de chief o' sinners ; ' says she, wid a groan, ah ! 
 
 " Do you b'lieve dat Christ died for sinners, and is able 
 to carry out His plan ? says I. 
 
 " ' Yes, says she, of cors I do.' 
 
 " Well, den, says I ; if you's sinner 'nough, and Christ is 
 Saviour 'nough, what's to hender your bein' saved ? says I. 
 Just you quit lookin' at yourself, and look to Him. 
 
 " Den she kotch sight o' de cross, and she forgot herself; 
 and her face light up like an angel's ; and . she was a new 
 missus from dat yar hour till she went up to de higher house. 
 
 She died a singin': 
 
 " ' In my han' no price I bring. 
 Simple to dy cross I cling.' 
 
 " But she mought a sung all de way along, if she hadn't 
 forgot de hooiniliation o' de cellar, and 'bused de privileges 
 ob de parlor. Parlors is fine things ; but dey ain't made for 
 folks to spen' deir whole time in." 
 
 " What's a chamber-saint, auntie ? asked the young man. 
 
 " Chamber saints is dem da'ts 'scaped de dark and de scare 
 ob de cellar, and de honey-traps o' de ] rlor, and got trough 
 many worries, and 'so feels a-tired, and is glad o' rest. 
 Dey says, * Well, we's got 'long mighty well, and can now 
 see de way clar up to glory.' And sometimes dey forgets 
 f'nt dey's on'y half way up, and tinks dey's come off con- 
 qi ?ror a'rendy. So dey's very apt to lie down wid deir 
 ban's folded, tinkin' dat Satan isn't nowhar, now ! But he 
 is close by 'em, and he smooves deir soft pillows, and sings 
 'em to sleep and to slumber ; and de work o' de kingdom 
 
THE HOUSE-TOP SAINT. 
 
 141 
 
 don't get no help from'dem — not for one while /.^ De cham- 
 ber is a sort o' half-way house made for rest and comfort ; 
 but some turns it into a roostin' place ! You know Brudder 
 Bunyan, sonny ? 
 
 " No," says the learner. 
 
 " What, never heerd tell o* John Bunyan ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes." 
 
 " I tought you couldn't all be so ignorant 'bout 'ligion up 
 in Boston as dat ! 
 
 Well, you know how he wrote 'bout a brudder dat got 
 asleep and lost his roll, and dats' what's de matter wid heaps 
 o' Christians in de worl'. Dey falls asleep and loses deir 
 hope." 
 
 " And do you keep in this joyful and wakeful frame all the 
 time, auntie ? " asked the young learner. 
 
 " I does, honey, By de help o' de Lord, and a contin'l 
 waLch, I keep de head o' de ole sarpint mashed under my 
 heel, pretty gineral. Why, sometimes, when he rises up and 
 thrusts his fangs out, I has such power gin me to stomp on 
 him dat I can hear his ole bones crack — mostly ! I tell you 
 honey, he don't like me, and he's most gin me up for los', ah !" 
 
 " Now, Sibyl, you are speaking in figures. Tell me plainly 
 how you get the victory over Satan." 
 
 " Heaps o' ways," she replied. " Sometimes I gets up in 
 de mornin', and I sees work enough for two women ahead o' 
 me. Maybe my head done ache and my narves done ram- 
 pant ; and I hears a voice sayin' in my ear, ' Come or go 
 what likes, Sibby, dat ar work is got to be done ! You's 
 sick and tired a'ready !' 'Your lot's a mighty hard one, sister 
 Sibby' — (Satan often has de imperdence to call me ' sister') 
 — ' and if Adam was only a pearter man, and if Tom wasn't 
 lame, and if Judy and Cle'patry wasn't dead, you could live 
 mighty easy, says he. But just you look at dat ar pile o' 
 shirts to iron, 'sides cookin' for Adam and Tom, and kcepin' 
 your house like a Christian oughter!' Dat's how he 'sails 
 me when I'se weak ! Den I faces straight about and looks 
 at him, and says, in the words o' Scripter. 
 
 " * Clar out and git ahind my back, Satan !' Dat ar pile o 
 shirts ain't high enough to hide Him dat is my strength | 
 
■n 
 
 U.' 
 
 14^ 
 
 READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 
 
 ! ■, 
 
 And sometimes I whisks de shirts up and rolls 'em back into 
 a bundle, and heaves 'em back into de clothes bask't, and 
 says to 'em, * You lay dar till to-jnorrow, will you ? I ain't 
 no slave to work, nor to Satan ! for I can 'ford to wait, and 
 sing a hime to cher my sperits, if I like." And den Satan 
 drops his tail and slinks off, most gineral ; and I goes 'bout 
 my work a singin': 
 
 " * My Master bruise de sarpint's head, 
 And bind him wid a chain ; 
 Come, brudders, halelujah shout, 
 Wid all your might and main ! 
 
 Halelujah, halelujah ! ' " 
 
 " Does Satan always assail you through your work ? " 
 asked the young stranger. 
 
 *' No, bless you, honey ; sometimes he 'tacks me thro' my 
 stummick ; and dat's de way he 'tacks rich and grand folks, 
 most gineral. If I eat too hearty o' fat bacon and corn cake 
 in times gone, I used to get low in 'ligion, and my hope 
 failed, and I den was such a fool I tought my Christ had 
 forgotten to be gracious to me ! Satan makes great weepons 
 out o' bacon ! 
 
 " But I knows better now, and I keep my body under, like 
 Brudder Paul ; and notin' has better power to separate me 
 from Him I loves. 
 
 " I's had sorrows enough to break down a dozen hearts dat 
 had no Jesus to shar' 'em wid, but every one on 'em has 
 only fotched me nearer to Him ! Some folks would like to 
 shirk all trouble on dair way to glory, and swim into de 
 shinin' harbor, trough a sea o' honey ! But, sonny, dere's 
 crosses to bar, and I ain't mean enough to want my blessed 
 Jesus to bar 'em all alone. It's my glory here dat I can 
 take hold o' one end o' dc cross, and help Him up de hill 
 wid de load o' poor bruised and wounded and sick sinners 
 He's got on His hands and His heart to get up to glory ! 
 
 But, la ! hor.oy ! how de time has flew ; I must go home 
 and get brudder Adam's dinner ; for it's one o' my articles o' 
 ligen never to keep him waitin' beyond twelve o'clock when 
 
A SLEIGH RIDE IN MUSKOKA. 
 
 143 
 
 back into 
 )ask't, and 
 1 I ain't 
 wait, and 
 den Satan 
 goes 'bout 
 
 he's hungry and tired, for dat alius gi'se Satan fresh 'vantage 
 over him. 
 
 " Come up to my palace, lome day, and we'll have more 
 talk about de way to glory." 
 
 ir work ? " 
 
 le thro' my 
 'and folks, 
 corn cake 
 1 my hope 
 Christ had 
 a,t weepons 
 
 under, like 
 ^parate me 
 
 \ hearts dat 
 Dn 'em has 
 mid like to 
 im into de 
 nny, dere's 
 my blessed 
 J dat I can 
 up de hill 
 ick sinners 
 [) to glory ! 
 >t go home 
 ^ articles o' 
 lock when 
 
 A SLEIGH RIDE IN MUSKOKA. 
 
 Calm is the night, and clear and bright, 
 
 The silver moon is shedding 
 A flood of light o'er the snow so white. 
 
 And an icy glory spreading ; 
 The earth looks fair as a dream of love. 
 
 In the pale soft light the moon does lend her. 
 And the starry vault of the blue above. 
 
 Is sparkling bright with a frosty splendour. 
 
 Swiftly we bound o'er the frozen ground, 
 
 Gaily, joyously, cheerily, 
 And our thoughts keep time to the musical chime 
 
 Of the sleigh-bells tinkling merrily. 
 For our hearts are attuned to the pleasing strains, 
 
 Of gladness, glee and innocent mirth. 
 And we feel, tho' sin has made dark stains, 
 
 Yet happiness lingers still on earth. 
 
 In wrap and rug, right warm and snug. 
 
 All care to the winds we fling, 
 And laugh and song, as we speed along, 
 
 Make the silent forest ring, 
 The distant owl our voices hears. 
 
 And screams from his dark and lonely dell. 
 In answer to our joyous cheers, 
 
 A discordant, wild, unearthly yell. 
 
 Faster we go — the frozen snow 
 
 From our horses' feet is flying, 
 The echoes long repeat our song, 
 
 Far in the distance dying ; 
 
144 READINGS A^T> RECITATIONS. 
 
 Our joyous breasts exulting bound, ' . 
 
 And utterance find in gleeful voice, 
 Till rocks and hills and dales resound, 
 
 And even the gloomy woods rejoice. 
 
 Through the vales we dash, where the spruce and ash 
 
 In silent glory stand. 
 And their branches low, 'neath a load of snow, 
 
 The evergreen cedars bend, 
 All gleaming fair in the pale moonlight. 
 
 Like architecture rare and grand. 
 With pillar, and dome, and palace bright, 
 
 As builded by some ghostly hand. 
 
 And away again, where the hemlocks green 
 
 Contrast with the spotless snow. 
 While across our way the maples gray. 
 
 Their checkered shadows throw. 
 And the denser forest now appears, " 
 
 Where the sombre pines their summits spread. 
 Till we scarce can see the twinkling stars. 
 
 Through the meeting branches overhead. 
 
 Our sleigh now glides where the river hides 
 
 Under the icebridge strong. 
 Where deep and low the waters flow, 
 
 So silently along; 
 And now it is past and on we roam, 
 
 By the frozen lake — a snowy plain — 
 Past the gleaming lights of the settler's home. 
 
 And away through the lonely wood again. 
 
 The falls ! it is they ! We can see the spray, 
 
 That the seething waters toss, 
 Like a glistening cloud o'er that foaming flood, 
 
 And now, as the bridge we cross, 
 Its echoing thunders louder grow, 
 
 Check'd is our noisy mirth and song, 
 
and ash 
 
 ;ad, 
 
 1, 
 
 A SLEIGH RIDE IN MUSKOKA. 
 
 And we stop and gaze where far below 
 The rolling torrent roars along. 
 
 The trees that stand on either hand 
 
 Are hung with ice drops fair, 
 With gems of light and jewels bright, 
 
 And dazzling crystals rare, 
 Reflecting back each twinkling star 
 
 With a sparkling beauty rich and grand, 
 A glittering scene, surpassing far 
 
 Our wildest dreams of fairy land. 
 
 Others may sing of the blossoming spring 
 
 That decks the wakening earth ; 
 Or summer's reign, with her wanton train 
 
 Of pleasure, love and mirth. 
 Or the hoarded treasures autumn pours. 
 
 The bounteous wealth that wide he flings. 
 His golden harvests' ripened stores. 
 
 But I love the joys that winter brings. 
 
 When swiftly past, in the roaring blast, 
 
 The frost-king sweeps in his pride, 
 His icy form, the raging storm, 
 
 And the i .lantling snow wreath hide ; 
 And unseeL spirits the way prepare, 
 
 Wherever his royal feet would go, 
 With dazzling carpets, white and fair. 
 
 And the crystal bridge where waters flow. 
 
 I love the clink on the frozen rink 
 
 Of the skater's iron heel ; 
 The Laughter gay of the boys at play 
 
 With their sleds, on the slippery hill. 
 The long, long nights, by the bright fireside 
 
 In the joyous home where happiness dwells j 
 But best of all, the merry sleigh ride, 
 
 And the musical chime of the tinkling bells. 
 
 145 
 
 1:? 
 
 F. S» Spence. 
 
146 
 
 READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 
 
 INSTRUCTION. 
 
 The heart has tendrils like the vine 
 
 Which round another's bosom twine, 
 
 Out springing from the parent tree 
 
 Of deeply planted sympathy, 
 
 Whose flowers are hope, its fruits are bliss, 
 
 Beneficence its harvest is. 
 
 
 
 There are some bosoms dark and drear, 
 Which an unwater'd desert are, 
 Yet, there, a prying eye may trace 
 Some smiling spot, some verdant place, 
 Where little flowers the weeds between 
 Spread their soft fragrance all unseen. 
 
 Despise them not, there Wisdom's toil 
 Has ne'er disturbed the stubborn soil. 
 Yet care and culture might have brought 
 The ore of truth from mines of thought, 
 And fancy's fairest flowers had bloomed. 
 Where truth and fancy lie entombed. 
 
 There is in every human heart 
 Some not completely barren part. 
 Where seeds of love and truth might grow 
 And flowers of generous virtue blow; 
 To plant, to watch, to water there, 
 This be our duty, be our care. 
 
 And sweet it is the growth to trace, 
 
 Of worth, of intellect, of grace, 
 
 In bosoms where our labor first 
 
 Bid the young seed of spring time burst, 
 
 And lead it on from hour to hour 
 
 To ripen into perfect flower. 
 
'i i 
 
 PASSING AWAY. 
 
 Hast thou e'er seen a garden clad 
 
 In all the rcbes that Eden had, 
 
 Or vale o'erspread with streams and trees 
 
 A paradise of mysteries ? 
 
 Plains with green hills adorning them 
 
 Like jewels in a diadem. 
 
 These garments, vales and plains and hills 
 Which beauty gilds and music fills, 
 Were once but deserts, — culture's hand 
 Hath scattered verdure on the land ; 
 And smiles and fragrance rule serene, 
 Where barren wilds usurp'd the scene. 
 
 And such is man ! a soil that breeds 
 Or sweetest flowers, or vilest weeds. 
 Flowers lovely as the morning light. 
 Weeds deadly as the aconite ; 
 Just as the heart is trained to bear 
 The poisonous weed or flow'ret fair. 
 
 Flow, then, pure knowledge ! ever flow, 
 Change nature's face in man below ; 
 A paradise once more disclose. 
 Make deserts blossom as the rose. 
 And through a Saviour's blood once shed, 
 Raise his forlorn and drooping head. 
 
 147 
 
 PASSING AWAY. 
 
 BY THE FOREST 13ARD. 
 
 Passing away, so Wiiispers the wind 
 As it treads in its trackless course, 
 
 And passing away, doth the bright rill say, 
 As it leaps from its crystal source, 
 
 All passing away on the stream of time, 
 
 To oblivion's vale in a far-off clime, 
 
m ■ 
 
 si 
 
 I* r? 
 
 
 !9ac 
 
 148 READINGS AND RECITATioNS. 
 
 Matter and man, we make no delay, 
 
 To eternity's giilf we are all passing away. 
 
 Passing away, e'en the forest's leaves 
 
 Are now growing yellow and sere, 
 AnH the sylvan bower and the woodland flower, 
 
 Fade along with the fading year. * 
 
 Oh passing away, 'tis a desolate scene. 
 Where nature is robed in her sombre sheen, 
 And the winds thro' the leafless forests say. 
 With their dismal dirge, we are passing away. 
 
 Passing away, mark the wrinkled brow 
 
 And the head with the silvery hair. 
 And the furrowed cheek, how they plainly speak, 
 
 That they're leaving a world of care. 
 Yes, passing away, even beauty's flower. 
 Is fading fast 'neath the spoiler's power, 
 And fair, and frail, to their bed of clay, 
 Adown in the tomb are passing away. 
 
 Passing away, shrieks the ocean's wave, 
 
 As it breaks on the beaten shore ; 
 And the tortured tide, is left to chide 
 
 The cliffs with a hollow roar. 
 Aye, passing away, both from castle and cot, 
 The places which know us will soon know us not. 
 Whether peasant or prince, nature's last debt to pay, 
 At the fiat of God we are passing away. 
 
 Passing away, for their hour is past. 
 
 Earth's things they're a motley pyre. 
 The monarch's throne, and his sword and crown, 
 
 And the />en and the poet's /yre, 
 All passing away, e'en the pomp of art 
 And the pride of the despot must all depart. 
 And the relics of realms must, too, decay, 
 ■^ And the names of the nations be passing away. . 
 
LAUGHTER. 
 
 149 
 
 <clKj 
 
 Passing away, even time himself, 
 
 Ben ds under his load of years, 
 His li.nbs are frail, and his cheeks grow pale, 
 
 With the furrows of sorrowing tears. 
 With his broken sc)'the with a silent tread. 
 He is passing on to the home of the dead ; 
 With a bending form and with locks grown grey. 
 Even time himself is fast passing away. 
 
 Passing away, how swiftly they go. 
 
 Those scenes of our youth, once dear. 
 Those friends we loved, are by death removed. 
 
 And the world waketh strange and drear ; 
 And the hopes of our youth, see they all depart, 
 And the chords of love round the human heart, 
 E'en the soul grow'th tired of its cot of clay, 
 And the essence immortal, would fain pass away. 
 
 Passing away, all but God's bright throne, 
 
 And his servant's home above, 
 And his grace divine, and the boundless mine, 
 
 Of his eternal love ; 
 And his will to save thro' a Saviour's blood 
 The child of faith, who hath wash'd in the flood ; 
 Even earth to its framework doth all decay, 
 But God and his love will ne'er pass away. 
 
 not, 
 to pay, 
 
 >wn, 
 
 y* 
 
 LAUGHTER. 
 
 Laughing is the balm of life, the promoter o^ health. Joy 
 is close akin to vigour. Bodily health is also health of 
 intellect. " A merry heart doeth good." What is beneficial 
 for the body, is good for the mind. Thus, blessed merri- 
 ment may yet prove a sovereign remedy for most of the ills 
 of this life. 
 
 Many scowl at mirth, the inroads of which upon their 
 tempers are the chief lights that enter their gloomy soulg, 
 
150 
 
 READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 
 
 t. 
 
 1 ' ' i 
 
 Each pleasant smile is refreshing dew to the opening bud 
 o affection; aiding virtue to bloom in the fulness of 
 Christian beauty. 
 
 Check not the joyous hearty laugh, for if reveals no guile. 
 Forbid not the merry peal. No unholy thoughts springs 
 from the fount of mirth. A merry joke is oft the monitor of 
 peace. Where discussion of misunderstanding has utterly 
 failed to restore good fellowship, a pleasant laugh will 
 dispel the shadow from the brow. When ire is vent in 
 laughter, envy is absorbed in kind feeling. The furrowed 
 cheek of four score looks youthful ; the veteran saint holier 
 when the heavenly smile lights up the face. Good humour 
 is indispensable to the honest heart. It remains for laughing 
 Christians to reclaim this world. 
 
 C. D. 
 
 
 SMILE WHEN YOU CAN. 
 
 When affairs don't go to suit you. 
 
 And this world seems upside down, 
 Don't waste precious time in fretting, 
 
 Rather chase away that frown. 
 While life's cares are oft perplexing. 
 
 It is much the wiser plan. 
 Combat, present trials, bravely 
 
 Always smile when'er you can. 
 
 Why should Christians dread to-morrow, 
 
 And so doing spoil to-day ? 
 If you forehand borrow trouble, 
 
 Both the times you have to pay. 
 Whether happiness or sorrow 
 
 Filleth up the mortal span. 
 It will make your pathway brighter. 
 
 Always smile when'er you can. 
 
THE AFFLICTED MAN's COMPANION. 
 
 16t 
 
 s 
 
 ling bud 
 ilness of 
 
 no guile. 
 springs 
 lonitor of 
 utterly 
 ugh will 
 
 vent in 
 furrowed 
 int holier 
 
 humour 
 laughing 
 
 D. 
 
 THE AFFLICTED MAN'S COMPANION. 
 
 Edward Arthur, book dispensex, 
 In his arduous avocation, 
 Oft encountered curious cases, 
 Characters so strange so various. 
 While proceeding in his calling, 
 Double object still intent on 
 Persevering in his business. 
 Bound to prosecute his purpose. 
 Serve his patrons, save his profits, 
 Scatter knowledge, gather dollars, 
 Make folks better, make a living. 
 Serve his day and generation. 
 
 Edward had by long experience, 
 In his arduous avocation, 
 Found that very much depended 
 On his exercise in judgment, 
 In presenting publications 
 To some customers, fastidious, 
 He by long keen observation, 
 Noted how and when to timely 
 Make successful application, 
 So as best to suit his purpose, 
 So as best secure transaction. 
 Live, and let live, and be useful, 
 Still intent to close the bargain. 
 Yet, alas ! oft unsuccessful. 
 
 Books he bound, and books he bartered, 
 New and old, and large and small ones. 
 Solid light and heterogeneous 
 Reading stock was Edwart; Arthur's, 
 In a pack he carried ponderous. 
 
 Well adapted as was Edward 
 To his arduous avocation, 
 
 i *•' 
 
152 READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 
 
 Still 'tis sad it sometimes happened 
 All his skill was sorely tested, 
 In his ardent efforts wisely, 
 To adapt his various tactics, 
 To his customers as various. 
 
 Once our model book dispenser. 
 In his round of daily duties, 
 Made a call and met a stubborn, 
 Stolid customer, unyielding. 
 All his arts he plied with ardour. 
 Praised his books and pamphlets largely, 
 Fitted to conditions various, 
 Men in joy and souls in sorrow, 
 He could suit with something helpful, 
 He had books would surely answer 
 Ev'ry possible condition. 
 Incident to human nature. 
 
 
 Book dispenser, clearly seeing 
 That his customer was careworn, 
 Evidently sorely troubled. 
 He bethought him surely proper, 
 For this case of tribulation, 
 ** The afflicted man's companion." 
 This the book would surely suit him, 
 This would mitigate his sorrows. 
 This original edition, 
 He could recommend as genuine, 
 Could not be surpassed by any 
 In existence, " would he purchase 
 The afflicted man's companion ? " 
 True original edition. 
 
 " The afflicted man's companion ! " 
 " You mistake," replied the stranger. 
 You have not the /n/e edition ; 
 And if yours were e'en the true one. 
 Yet it would not lighten trouble, 
 
 I.T 
 
BROTHER fJREEN's CALL. 
 
 But would only make more wretched 
 Its unfortunate possessor. 
 
 T.et me furthermore inform you 
 I have got the real edition 
 Yet in sheets, and as he said so, 
 Pointed inward to the bedroom, 
 Where in sad dilapidation 
 Lay his miserable i)artner, 
 " Drunken wife, the true undoubted 
 Original editioUy 
 
 Real * afflicted man's companion,' 
 The afflicted man's affliction." 
 
 153 
 
 BROTHER GREEN'S CALL. 
 
 Good Bro. Green had the feeling stronger than his breth- 
 ren had that it was his duty md ought to be hii privilege, 
 to be useful in the Churcli in the particular capacity of 
 preaching the gospel. His unwavering conviction that he 
 was divinely called to preach, led him to make persistent 
 application at each and every returning quarterly official 
 meeting for the necessary license, that he might enter on his 
 special work invested with proper authority to preach. And 
 quite as persistently did his brethren every time present some 
 insurmountable obstacle to his obtaining what he desired, 
 unwilling, at the same time, to candidly inform him of their 
 impression that he was a little weak in understanding and 
 also in his judgment on this point as to qualification for 
 being accredited as a preacher, this not being adjudged as in 
 his special line ; but that he should be willing rather to ex- 
 ercise his gifts in such a manner as would be otherwise 
 profitable and acceptable to the Church. 
 
 However, after many unsuccessful efforts on the part of 
 the fathers and brethren to induce Brother Green to desist 
 from his importunity in this matter, it was resolved to remit 
 his case into the hands of one Elder Smith, who, after 
 

 154 
 
 READINGS AND RECITATIONS, 
 
 
 
 ,H ji' 
 
 HI 
 
 mature consideration and determination to treat effectually 
 with the peculiar style of the brother's mental capacity by 
 some original method, undertook to deal with the case in his 
 own way and manner. 
 
 Here it may be necessary for the full understanding of the 
 whole affair, to narrate that the personal appearance of 
 worthy Bro. Green was not \.\iat might be termed prepossess- 
 ing. His body was very lengthy (some would say awkwardly 
 so), his head was small, feet extra large, and i*: might be 
 surmised he had suffered from corns, as the arti( les he wore 
 called boots were of enormous unwieldly dimensions and 
 proportions. 
 
 Now, Bro. Smith knew that to treat the matter to purpose 
 and to put the ca// to tJie- ministry at rest, he must deal 
 Scripturally and at the same time as literally as practicable 
 with the whole bearings, so as to quiet the questionings of 
 the young brother, and, if possible, satisfy him that he was 
 not in reality " called to preach" the gospel. 
 
 Judging it would be necessary to put some searching ques- 
 tions to him to quicken him to see the point of the proof in 
 what would not be agreeable to have proved, the would-be 
 candidate was called in and the E'der put to him several 
 inquiries as to his unwavering belief in the inspiration and 
 truth of all that is revealed in the Holy Sciiptures, to which 
 the most unequivocal assent was avowed. 
 
 Then, enquired Elder Smith, if from a clear decisive 
 portion of Scripture it can be proved that you. Brother 
 Green, are not called to preach, will this fully and finally 
 settle and satisfy you in this important matter ? 
 
 " I don't know what more I could ask," replied the now 
 astonished young brother. " But I don't see how that can 
 be." 
 
 " Well, then, do you know what is stated in the tenth 
 chapter of the Epistle to the Romans and fifteenth verse ? " 
 asked the Elder. 
 
 " Not on the minute that I can think of," answered the 
 candidate. 
 
 " Then turn to the portion and read," said the Elder, 
 ftnd while the brethren present done so too, Elder Smith 
 
johnny's pledge. 
 
 155 
 
 distinctly pronounced, " How beautiful upon the mountains 
 are the feet of them that preach the gospel," and at the 
 same time sternly pointing with his hand to the immense 
 unwieldly feet on which the bent figure before him stood, 
 he added, " Who could once entertain the idea of caUing 
 those feet beautiful, or that this text could in any fairness 
 ever be applied to the owner of such ugly feet. 
 
 " And now, brother, we trust you will henceforth be con- 
 tent to fulfil the important offices for which, by your many 
 eminent virtues and accomplishments, you are so well 
 qualified, and in which capacity you can be so blessedly 
 useful." 
 
 The young brother, however, had not waited to hear the 
 conclusion of the words of exhortation, having prematurely 
 receded to a back seat. 
 
 i 
 
 JOHNNY'S PLEDGE. 
 
 This little band 
 
 Do with our hand 
 
 The Pledge now sign 
 
 To drink no wine ; 
 
 Nor Brandy red, 
 
 To turn our head ; 
 
 Nor Whisky hot, 
 
 That makes the sot ; 
 
 Nor fiery Rum, 
 
 To turn our home 
 
 Into a hell. 
 
 Where none can dwell, — 
 
 Whence peace would fly — 
 
 Where hope would die, 
 
 And love expire, 
 
 'Mid such a fire ; 
 
 So here we pledge perpetual hate 
 
 To all that can intoxicate, 
 
15G 
 
 READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 
 
 n I 
 
 m 
 
 . THE BOY'S REASONS AND RESOLVES. 
 
 I would like to have ruddy cheeks and /mgh^ eyes, and 
 strong limbs. But strong drink dims the eye, and pales the 
 cheek, and enfeebles the frame ; therefore, I will not drink. 
 
 I would like to have a clear mind, so that I may think on 
 great things, and serve God, and do good to others. But 
 strong drink clouds the mind and often destroys it; therefore 
 I will not drink at all. 
 
 I would like to have a peaceful heart and a quiet con- 
 science, so that I may be happy while I am here. But 
 strong drink fills many a heart with misery, and implants in 
 many a conscience a sting ; therefore I will not drink. 
 
 I would like to go to heaven when I die, that I may dwell 
 with Jesus in glory forever. But strong drink keeps men 
 from entering into heaven ; therefore I will not drink at all. 
 
 BAD EXCUSES. 
 
 I ';P 
 
 He who drinks when he's hot 
 
 To keep himself cool, 
 Adds the vice of the sot 
 
 To the deed of a fool ! 
 He who drinks when he's cool 
 
 To keep himself hot, 
 Adds the deed of a fool 
 
 To the vice of a sot. 
 
 II 
 
 SOBER TEST. 
 
 Read three times quickly without stammering, pronouncing 
 every syllable plainly and distinctly; and when this is ac- 
 complished you may be pronounced decidedly " sober." 
 
 " PetQr Prickle Prandle picked three pecks of prickly 
 
Arouse ! 
 
 15t 
 
 lis. 
 
 eyes, and 
 pales the 
 lOt drink, 
 think on 
 :rs. But 
 therefore 
 
 pears, from three prickly prangly pear-trees : if then, Peter 
 Prickle Prandle picked three pecks of prickly pears from 
 three prickly pear-trees, where are the three pecks of prickly 
 pears that Peter Prickle Prandle picked from the three 
 prickly prangly pear-trees ? Sucess to the successful prickly 
 prangly pear-picker — Peter Prickle Prandle. 
 
 
 uiet con- 
 re. But 
 plants in 
 ik. 
 
 lay dwell 
 eps men 
 ik at all. 
 
 TARES. 
 
 Mamma, said a little girl thoughtfully 
 afflicted parent who was instructing her 
 lesson, I wish the devil would'nt sow 
 Why my dear? Do you know what are 
 mamma, Did'nt Tom say that Father had 
 last week, and this week on a regular '* 
 they would stop the devil from sowing 
 Don't you mamma ? 
 
 addressing her 
 in her scripture 
 any more tares, 
 tares ? inquired 
 gone on a spree 
 tare." O, I wish 
 any more tares. 
 
 ouncmg 
 s is ac- 
 )er.» 
 prickly 
 
 AROUSE ! 
 
 Country ! on thy sons depending, 
 
 Strong in manhood, bright in bloom — 
 
 Hast thou seen thy pride descending, 
 Shrouded, to th' unhonour'd tomb ? 
 
 Hast thou seen that blossom blighted 
 
 By a drear, untimely frost — 
 All thy labour unrequited — 
 
 Every glorious promise lost ? 
 
 Rise ! on eagle pinions soaring — 
 Rise ! — like one of godlike birth— 
 
 Rise ! — Jehovah's aid imploring— 
 Sweep the spoiler from the earth! 
 
1&8 
 
 READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 
 
 EXERCISING DISCIPLINE. 
 
 Mrs. Green had just joined the Church. Her former life 
 could not be fairly designated profane, but not being of what 
 might be termed the very exact class, Mrs. Green had some- 
 times thoughtlessly given way to outbursts of excited feeling 
 in terms that might grate harshly on delicate ears. Her 
 avocation as washerwoman sometimes requiring all her atv.n- 
 tion, as well as energies exerted, when earnestly engaged at 
 her work, what was particularly annoying to her was to 
 have her attention called off to anything else, when it 
 seemed quite plain to her, up to elbows in the suds, the 
 great apostle's motto should be hers, " this one thing I do." 
 
 Whatever else may have been altered in Mrs. Green's new 
 relationship, the disposition to attend to one thing at a time 
 she had not yt;t seen sufficient reason to change ; and so 
 when she washed she washed. Moreover, having her hands 
 full most of her precious time in her many imperative duties, 
 this was to her a matter of necessity quite as much as taste. 
 
 Once on a time, when Avith aU her might at work, who 
 should call in but the two most pious and zealous Christian 
 ladies of the Church, the Misses Pink and Gravely in the 
 prosecution of their praiseworthy mission " to do good and 
 to communicate," and anxious to have some profitable con- 
 versation on religious matters with the new member. 
 
 When the good visitors entered, Mrs. Green barely looked 
 up to recognize their presence. Had she just then spoken 
 out from first impulse, it would have been anything but a 
 suitable pious ejaculation. She had, however, learned so 
 much that to say little or nothing was better than rash 
 utterance. But even her well-intended silence did not quite 
 come up to the ideas her visitc^rs entertained of the respect 
 due to themselves and the interests they represented, nor 
 did they quite seem to appreciate her virtuous industry in 
 persistently continuing her exertion in searching out and 
 removing the spots from the garments, and raising the froth 
 and steam from agitated suds. 
 
EXERCISING DISCIPLINE. 
 
 159 
 
 ner life 
 of what 
 some- 
 feeling 
 Her 
 Tat^.ri- 
 aged at 
 was to 
 hen it 
 ids, the 
 I do." 
 n's new 
 a time 
 and so 
 ^ hands 
 duties, 
 IS taste, 
 rk, who 
 hristian 
 r in the 
 06. and 
 lie con- 
 looked 
 spoken 
 f but a 
 ned so 
 n rash 
 )t quite 
 respect 
 2d, nor 
 jstry in 
 ut and 
 le froth 
 
 After patiently waiting both for opportunity and to think 
 what might, under the circumstances, be suitable to say, one 
 of the saintly sisters ventured quietly to remark, •* Mrs. 
 Green, you appear to be very busy to-day." "Yes," 
 responded the washer, while she lifted and let drop a large 
 handful and half raised her perspiring face, " yes, you may 
 say, as busy as a devil in a whirlwind." While Mrs. Green 
 so expressed herself she, with renewed vehemence, plied 
 her onorous work, the visitors looking amazed at one another 
 with inquiring glance, as much as to say, " What next ? " 
 It became evident that if "To every thing there is a time 
 and a season to every purpose," now was not the accepted 
 time to prolong the effort to convey counsel or edification. 
 Yet, feeling as if they ought to hint that they could scarcely 
 regard this as a befitting Christian reception, one of them 
 ventured to express the opinion that such rugged words as 
 those to which they had painfully listened, they could not 
 feel it to be their duty to let pass quite unnoticed, ruch 
 profane language, being at least unseemly and inconsistent 
 in a Christian professor ; and, further, they would feel it to 
 be their very unpleasant duty to bring the matter before the 
 Rev. Mr. Bradburn, the respected pastor of the church. 
 Now, it may be helpful to the clear understanding of the 
 case to note that good Mr. Bradburn was one of those 
 somewhat peculiar old style preachers who would manage 
 matters his own way. 
 
 As soon as the visitors had left and Mrs. Green had got 
 through her washing, she began to think more seriously of 
 what had just occurred, and of what might be the serious 
 consequence when these excellent ladies would present the 
 matter to Mr. Bradburn in their own way without, perhaps, 
 fully giving her side of the story, and although reposing 
 average confidence in both their candour and ability yet she 
 couldn't get over the notion that after all she could herself 
 put the case in a better light than they would be likely to 
 present it, and following up her impressions, she determined 
 to follow up and if practicable pass them, and get first to 
 see the minister. 
 
 When Mrs Green entered the house she found Mr. 
 
 % 
 
1 
 
 m 
 lit 
 
 160 
 
 READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 
 
 Bradbum not in his study, but busily employed mending 
 some shoes for his children, — (Shoemaker having been his 
 former art). She at once laid open her trouble, he heard 
 her patiently, v/hile she candidly lamented having rashly 
 used an o/d habitual expression, but did'nt quite think it was 
 swearing. Mr. Bradburn wished her to be very exact, and 
 tell him particularly the precise words she had used. When 
 she once more repeated, she believed the words were " Yes ! 
 I'm as busy as the devil in a whirlwind." Well he said, 
 decidedly they were not nice words in a Christian's lips, 
 and she would have to try in future and " lay aside all 
 supetfluity of naughtiness," and he would see what he could 
 do to get her out of the present scrape. 
 
 Mrs. Green had only got well away when the ladies 
 sought an interview, and entering, found the minister hard 
 at work pulling his wax-end and hammering mightily, as if in 
 extra hurry, and i\ix a few moments, to the astonishment of 
 his visitors, scarce / appeared to recognize their presence. 
 Shortly one of them ventured to remark, " Mr. Bradburn 
 you are very busy this morning ? " " Yes," replied his 
 reverence, while scarcely raising his brow. " Yes, as busy 
 as the devil in a whirlwind." Mutual explanations and a 
 gentle word of advice terminated the seeming violence of 
 the whirlwind. . 
 
 DOCTOR, STRIKE THE ROOT. 
 
 A TOPER, woeful, sick and sad, 
 
 A sensible physician had, 
 
 With whom he pleaded, " Doctor, please 
 
 Just strike the ruot of my disease ! " 
 
 " // is the only loay^ I kttow } " 
 The Doctor said, and fetched a blow 
 Shivering his bottles into bits, 
 And waking up the toper's >yits 1 
 
QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION. 
 
 161 
 
 QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION. 
 
 1. Whether is total abstinence from all intoxicating liquors 
 or the moderate use of them more commendable ? 
 
 2. Has commerce contributed to the happiness of nations ? 
 
 3. Whether has Music or Poetry the greater influence on 
 the mind? 
 
 4. Whether is hope or fear the greater stimulus to action ? 
 
 5. Whether is a Miser or a Spendthrift the worse member 
 of society? 
 
 6. Whether is more judgment displayed in choosing a 
 beautiful wife or one that is wealthy ? 
 
 7. Whether is a great city productive of more evil than 
 good? 
 
 8. Is N*^ 'el-reading productive of moral and intellectual 
 improvemen ? 
 
 9. Should parents choose a profession for their children, 
 or ought the children to choose for themselves ? 
 
 10. Whether is Celibacy or Matrimony more conducive to 
 the happiness of man? 
 
 11. Whether is a tax on food or a tax on knowledge mote 
 hurtful to the interests of a nation ? 
 
 1 2. Which of the five senses is most valuable ? 
 
 13. Are early marriages commendable? 
 
 14. Whether does the giving or the receiving a benefit 
 afford the most pleasure ? 
 
 15. Can love exist without jealousy? 
 
 16. Is war necessary to the good order and well being of 
 society ? 
 
 17. Whether does prosperity or adversity expose a n\an 
 to the greatest evils ? 
 
 18. Are capital punishments necessary to the suppression 
 of crime? 
 
162 
 
 READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 
 
 I 
 
 19. Are the works of Shakespeare calculated to improve 
 the morals of his readers ? 
 
 ao. Which is the most frequent cause of Suicide — Cour- 
 age, Cowardice, or Insanity ? 
 
 21. Whether has war, pestilence or drunkenness been 
 productive of most misery? 
 
 32. Ought man at any time assume a feigned character? 
 
 23. Does religion or politics produce the greatest enthu- 
 siasts ? V , . 
 
 24. Whether is the history of the world before or after 
 the Christian era most interesting? 
 
 25. Are women in general more compassionate than men? 
 
 26. Whether is Spring or Autumn the finest season ? 
 
 27. Which of the Fine Arts is most likely to yield the 
 greatest pleasure to man ? 
 
 28. Supposing the present form of government in Great 
 Britain annihilated, whether would it be better to substitute 
 an absolute monarchy or a pure democracy in its stead ? 
 
 29. Has the physical condition of the people of this 
 country been improved by the introduction of machinery ? 
 
 30. What has been the most useful result of human in- 
 genuity ? 
 
 31. Is the conduct of Socrates in submitting to the scold- 
 ing of his wife worthy of imitation ? 
 
 32. Is the profession of a lawyer more honourable than 
 that of a soldier ? 
 
 33. Are oaths necessary in conducting human affairs ? 
 
 34. Ought we ever to be angry ? • 
 
 35. What method should a just government adopt in regu- 
 lating the Public Press ? 
 
 36. Whether between friends who have no reason to doubt 
 each other's friendship ought there to be any reserve ? 
 
 37. Whether does happiness lie most on the side of sensi- 
 bility or apathy ? 
 
QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION. 
 
 163 
 
 nprove 
 
 -Cour- 
 
 5 been 
 
 acter ? 
 enthu- 
 
 or after 
 
 n men? 
 
 n? 
 ield the 
 
 n Great 
 ibstitute 
 ^ad? 
 
 of this 
 linery ? 
 
 man in- 
 le scold- 
 
 ble than 
 
 airs? 
 
 in regu- 
 
 to doubt 
 e? 
 
 of sensi- 
 
 38. Whether is bashfulness or impudence the greatest 
 impediment to our success in Hfe ? 
 
 39. Whether has custom or novelty the greatest influence 
 on the human mind ? - •" 
 
 40. Whether is indulgence or severity most advantageous 
 to the promotion of learning in youth ? 
 
 41. Whether is genius without perseverance, or persever- 
 ance with a moderate degree of mental ability more useful 
 to their respective possessors ? 
 
 42. Are mankind stimulated by personal motives in all 
 their actions ? 
 
 43. Is the origin of language human or divine i* 
 
 44. Is good sense compatible with an extraordinary atten- 
 tion to dress ? 
 
 45. Whether is it better to have a case decided in a Court 
 of law or by arbiters who are not lawyers ? 
 
 46. Is a good memory with a habit of inattention to be 
 preferred to a habit of attention with a bad memory ? 
 
 47. Whether does virtue or fame tend mc:.t to make men 
 do praiseworthy actions. 
 
 48. Which is the least criminal — a good action with a bad 
 intention or a bad action with a good intention ? 
 
 49. Whether are the beauties of nature or art calculated 
 to produce the most pleasing sensations in the mind ? 
 
 50. Whether has nature or art the greater share in the 
 formation of an orator ? 
 
 51. Do the inferior animals possess reason? 
 
 52. Whether has nature or circumstances the greater in- 
 fluence in giving direction to genius ? 
 
 [ 53. Whether is honesty or benevolence the greater virtue? 
 
 54. Whether is fraudulent bankruptcy or a breach of pro- 
 mise of marriage the greater crime ? 
 
 55. Ought we to believe or reject the doctrine of phreno- 
 logy ? 
 
164 
 
 READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 
 
 I' '^^ ' 
 ..11} 
 
 56. Is hunting, fishing, or fowling, for amusement, con- 
 sistent with good sense or humanity ? r 
 
 57. Is it of advantage to the community that the power 
 of pardoning criminals should be vested in the chief magis- 
 trate of the state ? 
 
 58. As the boundaries of science are enlarged is the em- 
 pire of imagination circumscribed ? 
 
 59. Is it beneficial or injurious to limit by law the rate of 
 interest ? 
 
 60. Is there any standard for taste ? 
 
 61. Does the influence which the females possess over the 
 males tend to the moral and intellectual improvement of 
 the latter? 
 
 62. Supposing a Father, Mother and Child, were in equal 
 danger, which should have the preferable claim on our 
 exertions to save them ? 
 
 63. Has Oratory on the whole been of use to mankind. 
 
 64. Whether has riches or honour the most votaries ? ^ 
 
 65. Whether is a disappointment in love or the loss of a 
 fortune the tl^eater trial ? 
 
 66. Is fashion productive of more evil than good ? 
 
 67. Is great longevity desirable ? 
 
 68. Ought private interests to be sacrificed to public utility, 
 and even in some degree to public ornament ? 
 
 69. Should Lawyers take up cases they know are unjust ? 
 
 70. Whether is curiosity stronger in men or women ? 
 71 Can any one be content? 
 
 72. Is personal beauty of real advantage to females? 
 
 73. Whether are the rights of the British best defended by 
 trial by jury or the liberty of the press ? 
 
 74. Should men be imprisoned for debt ? 
 
 75. Whether does a young man derive more advantage 
 from an enlightened female or an intelligent male ? 
 
 76. Is dancing commendable ? 
 
QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION. 
 
 165 
 
 , con- 
 power 
 magis- 
 
 le em- 
 rate of 
 
 v^er the 
 lent of 
 
 1 equal 
 on our 
 
 kind. 
 
 :s? 
 
 )ss of a 
 
 : utility, 
 
 unjust ? 
 n? 
 
 2S? 
 
 nded by 
 
 [vantage 
 
 -r 77. Whether is the loss of a good wife or the possession of 
 a bad one the greater calamity ? . 
 
 78. Is the world increasing in knowledge and happiness ? 
 
 79. Ought there to be any legal punishment for blasphemy ? 
 
 80. Is the old maxim of English law that " it is better that 
 ten guilty persons escape than one innocent should suffer" 
 consistent with good policy ? 
 
 81. Is criticism favourable to literature? 
 
 82. Ought men and women to have the same education ? 
 
 83. Whether should matrimony be the result of ardent love 
 or of prudent deliberation ? 
 
 84. Does want or luxury tend more to the increase of 
 crime ? 
 
 85. Whether has that man more reason to expect happiness 
 who marries above his station or below it ? 
 
 86. Whether are real or imaginary evils the greatest cause 
 of misery to man ? 
 
 87. Whether is open voting or vote by ballot least ob- 
 jectionable ? 
 
 88. Have mankind any innate ideas, or are they all ac- 
 quired? 
 
 89. Has popularion a tendency to increase beyond the 
 means of subsistence ? 
 
 90. Is the preference given to the Ancients in literature 
 founded in reason or prejudice ? 
 
 91. Whether does Bunyan or Milton display the greater 
 powers of imagination ? 
 
 92. Ought a father to control his daughter in the choice of 
 a husband? 
 
 93. Whether are books or experience the better guide to 
 man? 
 
 94. Does climate affect the moral character of man ? 
 
 95. Ought the government to provide a secular education 
 for the people ? 
 
166 
 
 READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 
 
 !'»•" 
 
 5 '«, 
 
 96. Does emigration act beneficially on the interest of the 
 United Kingdom ? . 
 
 97. Which ought a, man to love most, his country or his 
 wife? 
 
 98. Is capital or labour the most valuable instrument of 
 production ? 
 
 99. Is woman mentally inferior to man ? 
 
 100. Wheter is it better to speak well or to write well ? 
 
 loi. Whether is a henpecked husband or an effeminate 
 beau the most despicable character ? 
 
 102. Whether is the preservation of life or honour more 
 to be attended to ? 
 
 103. Ought a member of Parliament to vote according to 
 the wishes of a majority of his constituents ? 
 
 104. Is jesting consistent with morality and good sense? 
 
 105. Which has most enjoyment, the man whose propen- 
 sities incline him to frequent change of situation or he whose 
 habits are settled ? 
 
 1 06. In case a person defraud another, but that other has no 
 legal redress, is the injured party justifiable in using similar 
 means to reimburse himself? 
 
 107. Is diplomacy or deceptive policy justifiable when 
 used for the public good ? 
 
 108. Whether are studied or extemporary addresses calcu- 
 lated to make the deepest impression ? 
 
 109. Whether does the confession of a fault or the forgive- 
 ness of an injury require the greater self command ? 
 
 no. Whether is childhood, youth or manhood the season 
 of most enjoyment ? 
 
 111. Which of the various animals domesticated by man 
 is most useful to him ? 
 
 112. Whether has personal appearance or mental culture 
 the greater influence in love affairs ? 
 
 113. Whether is rashness or procrastination productive of 
 the most misery ? 
 
QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION. 
 
 167 
 
 ' the 
 r his 
 nt of 
 
 11? ■ 
 linate 
 
 more 
 
 ing to 
 
 nse? 
 
 ropen- 
 whose 
 
 has no 
 similar 
 
 when 
 
 calcu- 
 brgive- 
 
 season 
 3y man 
 
 culture 
 ctive of 
 
 114. Whether are mankind happier in a high or low con- 
 dition of life ? 
 
 ■ 115. Would men be happier if more attached to scientific 
 pursuits? 
 
 116. Whether does a man show more wisdom in marrying 
 an old maid or a widow ? 
 
 117. Is the modeiate use of tobacco in all its forms in- 
 jurious? 
 
 118. Is hydropathy true in principle and beneficial in 
 practice ? 
 
 119. Has Government aright to enforce the observance 
 of the Sabbath ? 
 
 120. Which is the greater cause of crime and misery, 
 ignorance or intemperance ? 
 
 121. Is competition injurious or beneficial to the com- 
 munity ? 
 
 122. Does moral power or money povver exercise the 
 greater influence when brought to bear on the human mind ? 
 
 123. Is bribery to any extent justifiable? 
 
 1 24. Does effectual revenge or meek endurance of injuries 
 indicate strength of mind ? 
 
 125. Has the discovery of gunpowder been of use to 
 mankind ? 
 
 126. Is mesmerism true ? 
 
 127. Which is superior in character or utility, the power 
 of imagination or reflection ? 
 
 128. Is the science of astrology, or the doctrine that the 
 stars indicate future events, based on truth ? 
 
 129. Is volition self-active or moved by certain laws? 
 
 130. Whether is the study of biography or geography 
 more calculated to improve the minds of youth. 
 
 131. Which is the best system of taxation, direct or in- 
 direct ? 
 
 132. Is ambition a vice or a virtue ? 
 
168 
 
 READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 
 
 133. Will Britain decay as the great nations of antiquity 
 have done? 
 
 134. Whether is it easier to live virtuously in solitude or 
 in society ? 
 
 135. Are taxes on the importation of the literature of 
 other countries just or desirable ? 
 
 136. Is conscience a true monitor of right and wrong in 
 every case. 
 
 137. Ought gaming to be legally restrained? 
 
 138. Ought taxation to press equally on the capital of skill 
 and the capital of industry ? 
 
 139. Ought the "Law of Limited Partnership" to be 
 adopted in this country ? 
 
 140. Is eloquence in its wane ? 
 
 141. Can any circumstances justify a departure from 
 truth ? 
 
 142. Have we sufficient evidence for a belief of spirit- 
 manifestations in modern times ? 
 
 143. Is satire useful in disputations? 
 
 144. Are wit and humour the same ? 
 
 145. Whether is it more or less evil for a Hquor seller to 
 dilute largely with water, at the same time charge full price, 
 or give full strength ? 
 
5«^ 
 
 tions of antiquity 
 sly in solitude or 
 the literature of 
 ht and wrong in 
 
 2d? 
 
 le capital of skill 
 
 tnership" to be 
 
 departure from 
 belief of spirit- 
 
 Hquor seller to 
 arge full price,