Gough 1854

JOHN B. GOUGH'S

ADDRESS TO THE WORKING CLASSES.

Delivered in BzterHall Monday, Apri 2uh, 18

LADIES AND GENTLEMEN,- It giveS me exoeeding pleasure, on my return to London,to have the privilege of addressing an audience such as I see before me. Your President said that he would introduce Mr.MoCurrey,a working man；and I felt as if,in introducing me to the audience, he certainly might introduce to you a workingman also. My sympathies are with the working men；I consider it a high honour to be a working man；and I would not give anything for a man in any position in life who wag not a working man.

JOHN B. GOUGH'S

ADDRESS TO THE WORKING CLASSES.

Delivered in Exeter Hall, Monday, Apri 2uh, 18

I come before you ladies and gentlemen-(I said working men；I suppose there are working women here as well) -I come before you to speak upon a subject that has been discussed over and over again；and I hardly suppose that any person can bring new matter before a London audience on the subject of temperance；but I have only come to give you,as my brother McCurrey has, the result of sxperience and observation；and Ioften find it a difficult matter to get into the subject, because the points that strike over the mind and upon which we base our arguments, are conceded to us at once by the whole people. Every individual here agrees with me that drunkenness is an evil-there is no need of argument on that point. We maintain that it is not only perfectly right and proper,but that itis every man's bounden duty,to doall he canto remove an evil-and you all know that ; we maintain that the evil of drunkenness is produced solely and entirely by the use of intoxioating liquor as a beverage；and we also maintain, that if the principles of total abstinence were universally adopted and carried out, the tide of drunkenness would be rolled back from this land for ever；and all agree with us on these points, whether working men or not.I have been very much surprised in travelling,to find gentlemen meeting me in railway carriages and other places, shaking hands with me,and saying,“It’s a good cause you are engaged in Mr. Gough ;I believe you are doing a great deal of good,and I wish you every success; but I regret to say that I am not a total abstainer myself." Gentlemen,I would rather hnve a bold, open,manly opposer,that would take ground against me, and declare, “You are all wrong,and I will prove it." Very well, Sir; prove it..We are ready to meet you with logic and argument and facts. We have all the facts on our side.We defy our opponents to bring such a fact as has stood before you to-night-a redeemed man,lifting up free unfettered hands,and thanking God that he has burst the thongg that bound him,nd obtaineda victory over hisold enemy. We have fact after fact of this kind.The fact is,we have but very little opposition to contend with,except this sneering ridiculing of our principles, this speaking contemptuously of our movement. But we say of this kind of opposition just what the big blacksmith said of his wife. He was about six feet,tall and broad in proportion,and hehada little bit ofa vixen ofa wife,and she used to fog him most unmercifully.Some one said to him,“ Well, now,ifIwasasbigafellowasyou,Iwouldnot stand that, I'd let that spiteful little wretch know her place;I'd soon let her sce thatIwould be master.”“Oh!"said he,“let heralone,let her alone；she'sa poor little thing,and it gratifies her a good deal,and it don't hurt me a bit."So we.say,if men sneer；let them sneer,until the lipgrows rigid with the curl they put upon it;let them speak contemptuously of our movement-wemind it nota particle; we believe we have the best of the argument,and that all the facts are on our side.

Now, allow me,if you please, just eimply to appeal, as farasI may be able,to the common sense and sound judgment of those who are in this assembly.Our warfare is against the use of intoxicating liquor as a beverage.We consider that intoxicating liquor is the great enemy of the working men of this country. Look at the cost of it,and that is but & small item f do not believe that it is true,as has been said of the working men in England,“a poor man once a poor man always"I do not believe there need be as much poverty and misery and abject pauperism as there is.1 believe the working men inthis city of London spend more money for beer and spirit than they are at all aware of,unless they count the cost month by month and week by week.You have all heard the storyprobably，ofa man who signed the pledge for a year, and at the expiration of tho year went into the dram-shop. The landlord suppoged he had come forhisdrink,and began to feel byanticipation the poor man's coppers ratling in his pocket.What will you have to drink？" he asked.“Nothing at all;Idon't want anything.”“Well,but your year is up?“Iknow that； but I have got a terrible bunch on my side""Ah！i thought you would have something；knocking off drink B quick won't do,you had better have a little drop to begin with-it will probably take that bunch away；if you don't,you'll probably have another grow on the other side.“Oh！you think so,do you？Wel,here is the bunch,”pulling out a bag containing { \mathfrak { L } } { \mathfrak { L } } 0 ; \mathrm { ~ } \mathfrak { s } you say,if Idrink somethingit will take it awayandifIdon'tIshall have another come just likeit？Yah!”Look,then,at the cost of the thing.There is many a man hardly able to jingle two halfpence together after Wednesday night, that might,at the close of a year,havea bunchin hispocket orby his side that would give to his familya great many comforts and privileges theyare now deprived of. I remember reading a tract ; it described a carpenter coming home from his work,with his tools on his shoulder；and as usual, he went into a public-house to drink. He had thethree pennies in his hand all ready；but the landlady was talking to her neighbour,and was not ready to serve him.The door was open,and she heard a pianoforte.She aid to her neighbour,"You have a pianoforte?" " Ye," she said,“it's a new one;it cost seventyguineas; Aramantha Amelia is learning toplay it；and we have got one of the first masters in the city to teach her” And you have got new furniture?”“ Yes, we have got new furniture,and our apartments are very splendidly furnished.”“How did you get all these things?”“I'l tell you；it's the fool's pence that got them.” The carpenter thought foramoment.“Fool's pence！There are three of themand he put them in his pocket；“youll get no more of mine." Now,then,let the working man abjure hisbeer and spirits,and hewill find at the end of the year an accumulation of property that will astonish him.

but I regret to say that I am not a total abstainer myself." Gentlemen,I would rather hnve a bold, open,manly opposer,that would take ground against me, and declare, “You are all wrong,and I will prove it." Very well, Sir; prove it..We are ready to meet you with logic and argument and facts. We have all the facts on our side.We defy our opponents to bring such a fact as has stood before you to-night-a redeemed man,lifting up free unfettered hands,and thanking God that he has burst the thongg that bound him,nd obtaineda victory over hisold enemy. We have fact after fact of this kind.The fact is,we have but very little opposition to contend with,except this sneering ridiculing of our principles, this speaking contemptuously of our movement. But we say of this kind of opposition just what the big blacksmith said of his wife. He was about six feet,tall and broad in proportion,and hehada little bit ofa vixen ofa wife,and she used to fog him most unmercifully.Some one said to him,“ Well, now,ifIwasasbigafellowasyou,Iwouldnot stand that, I'd let that spiteful little wretch know her place;I'd soon let her sce thatIwould be master.”“Oh!"said he,“let heralone,let her alone；she'sa poor little thing,and it gratifies her a good deal,and it don't hurt me a bit."So we.say,if men sneer；let them sneer,until the lipgrows rigid with the curl they put upon it;let them speak contemptuously of our movement-wemind it nota particle; we believe we have the best of the argument,and that all the facts are on our side.

But I said just now,that this loss of means is but a small item in the matter.Let us look at the effect produced upon the man. I am not assuming that every individual present is a drunkard,or is liable to become a drunkardeven those of you who are in the habit of drinking；but let us look for one moment at the influence of intoxicating liquor upon the men,and then as men we shall hat it. You laugh at us in America for singing,

“Hail,Columbia, happy land； Hail,ye heroes,heaven-born band, Who fought and bled in freedom's cause," and so on : because you say,how can it bea free and happy land with three millions of slaves in hopeless chattelbondage？ We bow down our heads and mourn over that； but we say to you, you sing,

“Rule Britannia ；Britannia ruleg the waves ；
Britons never,never can be slaves; and yet in this city of London are a set of abject,miserable, creeping slaves；is in,a bondage more terrible than the bondage of Egypt,or the ten-fold worse chattel-slavery of the south.In Virginiaa slave stood up before his brethren, and said,“Brethren, this poor old body of mine is Master Carr's slave ;the bones,and the blood,and the sinews,and the muscles belong to Master Carr；but,thank God,my 8oul is the freeman of the Lord Jesus."There is not a drunkard on the face of the earth can say that. He is a slave,body and mind；every faculty he has is in bondage； and the worst of it is,he is a self-made slave. The slave in the south is not responsible for the degradation his master puts upon him,when he sets his foot on him and crushes him down；the drunkard is responsible for every gift God has given him；for his intellect and genius；for every power he has,he is responsible and accountable；and therefore hisslavery is ten-fold more to be dreaded than the slavery of the south. And yet such is the deceptive influence of the drink,that while he is such a slave he boastsof his freedom.Free！Go,ifyouplease,into one of your drinking-rooms,one of your gin-shops,one of your public-houses；see men standing at the oounter；look at thatpale-faced,pallid-looking gin-drinker；see the eyeg large and sunk deep in the sockets,as with his fingers, like theclaws ofan unclean bird, he clutches that glass of gin. Why,he looksalmost as ifhe had come up out of his grave to get his gin,and had forgotten the way back again. It ishorrible to look at him.Aud yet that isa man！ See that other standing；the dull waters of disease stagnant inhis eye-sensuality seated upon his cracked,swollen, parched lip；see him gibbering in all the idiocy of drunkenness. That is a man！ I know it is sometimes hard to lookat the blear-eyed,bloated sot,and fel,“That is a man!Have you ever seen that admirable picture by our worthy chairman,“The man that thinks and acts,and the thing that drinks and smokes ? I have looked at the two; and yet the one is just as much a man as the other.God created him with the same faculties； God made him upright-in the imageofGod created he him；he gave him dominion over the beasts of the field,and crowned him lord ofcreation.Thata man-a bleareyed,bloated thing likethat！A man！ What has brought him to that？ Hashe come to this position willingly and of his own accord？ He has come to itby the deceptive influences ot drink-by coming to false conclusions,and using false arguments, some of which I will speak of for a minute.

“Rule Britannia ；Britannia ruleg the waves ；
Britons never,never can be slaves;

and yet in this city of London are a set of abject,miserable, creeping slaves；is in,a bondage more terrible than the bondage of Egypt,or the ten-fold worse chattel-slavery of the south.In Virginiaa slave stood up before his brethren, and said,“Brethren, this poor old body of mine is Master Carr's slave ;the bones,and the blood,and the sinews,and the muscles belong to Master Carr；but,thank God,my 8oul is the freeman of the Lord Jesus."There is not a drunkard on the face of the earth can say that. He is a slave,body and mind；every faculty he has is in bondage； and the worst of it is,he is a self-made slave. The slave in the south is not responsible for the degradation his master puts upon him,when he sets his foot on him and crushes him down；the drunkard is responsible for every gift God has given him；for his intellect and genius；for every power he has,he is responsible and accountable；and therefore hisslavery is ten-fold more to be dreaded than the slavery of the south. And yet such is the deceptive influence of the drink,that while he is such a slave he boastsof his freedom.Free！Go,ifyouplease,into one of your drinking-rooms,one of your gin-shops,one of your public-houses；see men standing at the oounter；look at thatpale-faced,pallid-looking gin-drinker；see the eyeg large and sunk deep in the sockets,as with his fingers, like theclaws ofan unclean bird, he clutches that glass of gin. Why,he looksalmost as ifhe had come up out of his grave to get his gin,and had forgotten the way back again. It ishorrible to look at him.Aud yet that isa man！ See that other standing；the dull waters of disease stagnant inhis eye-sensuality seated upon his cracked,swollen, parched lip；see him gibbering in all the idiocy of drunkenness. That is a man！ I know it is sometimes hard to lookat the blear-eyed,bloated sot,and fel,“That is a man!Have you ever seen that admirable picture by our worthy chairman,“The man that thinks and acts,and the thing that drinks and smokes ? I have looked at the two; and yet the one is just as much a man as the other.God created him with the same faculties； God made him upright-in the imageofGod created he him；he gave him dominion over the beasts of the field,and crowned him lord ofcreation.Thata man-a bleareyed,bloated thing likethat！A man！ What has brought him to that？ Hashe come to this position willingly and of his own accord？ He has come to itby the deceptive influences ot drink-by coming to false conclusions,and using false arguments, some of which I will speak of for a minute.

When I ask men, young mcn especially who are coinmencing life,whyitis they drink,they may aak me why Iput the question？But if Isay to you,“I am afraid thatif you drink you will become a drunkard,”what will you say to me？You will say,“Iam not such a fool as to become a drunkard；I have got a mind of my own: as if every man who became a drunkard wasa fool,and had nomind of his own！.“Ican leave it off when Ihave a nind to,and I can drink when I have a mind to;” just as if the man who became a drunkard never could leave it off when he had a mind to,and drink when he had a mind to！“I have gota will ofmy own；”just as if God never gave the drunkard a will! " I have a regard for my fanily; just as if the drunkard was born destitute of natural affection！“I am not destitute of ambition;” just as if he came into the world,looking below his present position for his future one！ Now,here is the deceptive infuence of the thing. Every man who begins todrink looks at the drunkard in the ditch,as a beingwho came out of thehands of his Creator utterly destitute of the qualities that the drink has robbedhim of.Now,isit so？Let us see fora inoment.Are they all fools who become drunkards？ Oh！I thank God that in the temperance enterprise we have been able to prove this to a demonstration. They are not all fools who become intemperate. Bright and beautiful pearls have been washed by the foul tide of drunkenness under the black rocks of oblivion,and we have been sending the divers after them and bringing them upy Bome of them fashing forth the fire of intellect to-day,and Bome of them, thank God! radiant with the hueg of the Christian graces. They are not allfools,in your acceptation of the term,who become intemperate.It is the infuence upon themind,itis theinfluence upon the man, that Ideplore more than I do the influence upon the body. Fact after fact can we bring before you,showing youmen who were once steeped to the lips in poverty and misery and wretchedness-men who were like Ishmaelites of civilised society-their hand against every man, because they believed every man's hand was against them, now clothed and in their right mind,manifesting a power and an energy and a firmness of purpose and a decision of character that astonishes many who knew them in the days of their darkness and of their drunkenness.“Yes,but," Bays one,“I can let it alone when I havea mind to！” Whenever I hear a man say that,I always make up my mind to one thing,that he hag not a mind to,and that he never intends to havea mind to.This isa boast.“I can, butI won't.Now,the boasting of the possession ofa power is all folly-for the power is of no value to any man unlesshe putsit forth；the power is valueless withouta will to exercise that power.Suppose I layupon the railway track； some one comes to me, and says,“Get up, get up, the train is coming. “ You mind your own business； Im not fool enough to be run over,am I？ I can get up when Ive a mind to,and I can lie hereaglongas I've a mind to, can't I"Iboast that I havea power-that I positively possess；but I have no will to exercise the power,and the train comes thundering on,and cutg me in two. What amI？Iam a self-murderer. I had the power.I had the warning,I refused to exercise the power,and when swift destruction came upon me the power was taken from me. Every man that dies a drunkard dies a suicide. He had the power to escape,and he had the warning；there is not aman here who dareg to say，“I have had no warning." Stopone moment；stop and listen；and you can hear tho hrieks that comeup from the vortex-shrieks, piercing shrieks of despair,from those who are sinking to rise no more；and your whole way is lined with spectrcs thatare pointing to the future of thosewho heedlessly argue their way down the fatal sliding-scale..Therefore every man who dies a drunkard dies a suicide.I heard a gentleman dispute that once.He said,“A man thatis& sucide is oe that just destroys his life at once.

I gaid to him, " Don't you consider a man is a suicide il he shorteng his life ten minutes ?”“No,”Baid he, { \pmb { \mathscr { u } } } _ { \bf { I } } don't.At that time there was a man under sentence ol death.“Now,”said I,“guppose ten minutes before that man isto behung,when he knowg hecan livebut ten minuteg more,he cuts his throat, what is he"He isa Buicide certainly."“But he has only shortened his life ten minutesl”I believe that every man who shorteng hig existence by the pursuit of gratification that isinjurious to his system,isina degreea destroyer of his own life.“I can,but I won't!"You remember,Samson was bound three times,and each time Delilah said to him,“The Philistines be upon thee,Samson,and three times he buret the thongs that bound him,and stood up again free.By and byhe told herall his heart,andlay his headon her lapand she calld aman of her peoplewho sheared hig lockg.Then she said to him,"The Philistines be upon thee,Samson.” What did he Bay?“I will go out and shake myself, as at other timeg !" He went out ；but the power was gone,and helpless they took him and put out his eyes. God pity any of you who hear me to-night who shall begin to feel thefetters ofa habit gallyou,and go out toburst you free,and find the welded iron bonds entering into your marrow,until you lift up your shackled hands to heaven,and cry,“Who shalldeliverme from the slavery of drunkenness ?“Ican,but Iwon't!"The most painful scene Iever witnessed in my life was by the bedside of man who said,“I would,but I can't.”The diference between you and the poor sot is,you can,but you won't； he would with all his heart,but he fears that he can't: You see a man standing before the bar,or before the counter.Has he any love for his family His cry isGive me drink！ Imust have it.Give me drink！I will give you my own hard earning； but give me drink！ I will give you more than that. Imarried a wife；I took her from her girlhood's home;I promised to love her and cherish herand protect her,and I havedriven her out to work for me.Ah！ah！ Ihave stolen her wages, and I havebrought them toyou；Iwill give themtoyou,if you will give me drink！More yet:Iwill give you the price ofbread that I snatched from the parched lips of my famished child；Iwill give that to you,if you will give medrink！ More yet:fhave got some money inmy hand; Idrove out my little child to lieand to cheat in the street, and I will give you that．Yeg,I have sold my child,body and soul,and Iwill give you the payment.More yet: I will give you my health；I will giveyou my humanity. More yet:I will give you my hopes of heaven;I will give you body and soul ；but give me drink!" And there are menin this city of London,that to-dayare bartering their birth-right for a dram,and selling their heritage for drink！

“I can, but I won't!"" Ah！ but," gays some one, { \pmb { \mathscr { e } } } \textbf { I } have not got anything of this kind of appetite that you are speaking about；a man must have a terrible appetite to sacrifice everything for drink,but I have got none of that appetite.Idon't know that you have；but Iwill give you a very easy method of testing whether you have or not. You can either say, { \mathfrak { a } } _ { 0 } thou invisible spirit of wine!ifwe had no other name by which to call thee,we would call thee devil,but,devilasthouart,Iamyourmaster;"yo can either say that, or it is your master. You are either free from it, or you are not.There may be different degrees of bondage.I willgiveyou an easy method of testing the matter.If to-night, after you leave this meeting,or to-morrow morning,you want to drink,what is that ?It is not a natural want？ God never sent any human being into the world with a desire for stimulant；if you never use it you will never want it；if your boy never drinks it he will never desire it.The want, if you have it,is produced by the use of the article you want. Now, see how strong that want is. The next time you want drink, just let it alone；go about your business,and you will begin to feel nervous,and irritable,and cross；things don't goright“I believe Imust go and havea- Ah！ just let it alone.Sit down to dinner；you have no appetite-“I really believeI need a tonic."Now,just letit alone. We have the testimony of two thousand physicians in this country,who have put their names to this document,that a man can at once giveup the use of intoxicating liquor asa beverage with no detriment to his health；and a surgeon of one of your prisons tells me, “The very morning we put a prisoner into jail we make a teetotaler ofhim,andInever knew a death from that circumstance." Now,it won't hurt you；just letit alone.“But how long mustI letit alone?”Let italonetill youdon't want it any more. My word for it,some of you will have to fight fora month, for two months, for three or four months.

Just fght against the desire for stimulant in your system, which isproduced there by the very article you want,and which hasa faster hold of you than you dream of. A young man said to me,after he had'given it a trial-“ Gough！ Ill never touch it again；Ihad no conception that drink had such hold ofme；I thought Icould leave itoffwhen I'da mind；but Ihad to fight against it,andfight as if I were fighting for my life；now Iwill have no more of it." Somepeople say,“Ihave triedit some time,butit don't suit me."Whydon't it suit them？I'll tell you.Because they don't try it long enough.

A gentleman in a certain town in this country where I spoke,after the second meeting went home,and the porter was put on the supper table. The servant was just leaving theroom,and he said,“Jane! Jane！Jane！ Come here; take away that porter,Jane！ I'm not going to drink any more porter, Jane took away the porter.The next morning he came in to lunch about one o'clock,and there was no porter on the table. As_the servant was going out,he called her back and said,"Jane,bring in the porter；I've stood it so long,Ican't stand it any longer!" Isuppose that man would say he had no appetite； and yet he could not stand it without his porter for twentyfour hours.

I tell you,sir,if you find it a diffcult matter to quit your drink to-day,it will be easier for you to quit it tonight than it ever will be again in this world.‘Yes, but whenIfind out itis doing me aninjury,thenIwill give it up."That is making an admission and coming toa conclusion.The adinission is true, the conclusion is false. You admit it may injure you,and when it ha8-no, therewould be somesense inthat,but when you find out thatit has injured you,then you will quit it.You won't use such an argument in reference to any other matter. { \pmb { \mathscr { u } } } _ { \bf I } will put my hand into the den ofa ratlesnake,and when \pmb { \cal I } find out that he has struck his fangs into meI will draw it out and get it cured as quickly as possible."There is no common sense in that. I heard once that a man said hecould pilota vessel intoBoston harbour,knowingas he did the rocks and shoals and bad places.Hesaid to the captain, { \mathfrak { s } } _ { \mathbb { I } } will stand midships and you take the heln；I will give you fair warning.”The vessel went along,and soon struck against a rock,knocking everybody down who was ondeck.The pilot jumped up,and rubbing the place where he was hurt, shouted out, “Captain！ there'sone of them." Now we want to gay to these young men, “ There's one of them；there is the rock upon which we split;hard up your helm！ sheer off before you strike."You would not have a man coming round the corner with a long pole stick it in your eye,and then callout “Take care!"aWhy didn't you say‘take care'before ？”

1 look back at my own nistory,at tne time wnen 1 was a bookbinder, working at my trade.Isigned the pledge whenIwas twenty-five yearg of age;and Ibegan to drink when I was eighteen. Iknow something of the deceitful influences of the drink and the power of the appetite.I boasted,like otherg,“When Indout that itiinjuring meI will quit it."When didIfind it out？ Iwill tell you,when I found the iron entering my soul,and when I began to mourn over the past. It was when God saw fit to strip me of everything and left me alone for just what I was worth；when the last being but one that I supposed I had who was of any degree of nearness to me was put into the grave,and I stood aloneThen was it that,baring my brow to the cool breeze at three o'clock one summermorning,I acknowledged-“I am a drunkard,God pity me !" It is by degrees that a man gets to the point,but it is not eo that the truths come upon him:it is not like the daylight standing tip-toe on the mountain top,sending shadows forth sharper in their outlines to meet him; n, the revelation of his state comes upon him likea flash of lightningblazing upon his sight；heturnshis vision into his own heart and feelings,and declares that of all the creatures on the face of God's footstool he is the most destitute,the most miserable,and the most utterly hopeless. You say，“Well then I would give it up.”You cannot. But,perhapsthat wordshould not be used；at least, you findit harder to giveit upthan you everdreamed you should find it.Ihave heard some men declare,“I cannot do it!"and an educated man once said,“Doctor,ifa glass of brandy were set here before me,and I knew that if Idrank it Ishould sink the next minute into an everlastinghell, Id drink it.Theman was on his death-bed, and the fact is related in the Rev. W. Reid's Temperance Encyclopedia. A physician of Greenock once told me,“Mr.Gough,a few weeks since Ihad a most horrible case. A man,when intoxicatcd,cut his throat.I sowed itup as well as I could, but the poor fellow must die They sent for a minister；the man lay on his back and wayed his hand, but oould scarcely articulate toexprem his meaning. They said, ‘Do you want & minister ' He shook hig head,waved his hand again,and moved his lips. The doctor stooped, and put his ear to the man's mouth, but he could not hear what he gaid. At last the man took his fingers and fairly pinched the wound close,and feebly articulated,‘Doctor, for Christ's sake,give me another glass.'” Isay, an appetite like that no man has power to describe or imagination to conceive. You may form some conception of it by seeing what men will give up to gratify it.We are in the habit of calling the drunkard a brute. Sometimeg indignation thrillg right through the_veins, Bending the blood hot to the tips of the fingerg,when we hear of the brutal outrages perpetrated under the influence of drink.

When I came to this country I noticed particularly the accounts of the abuse of wives by husbands ；but I assure you I did not find one cage of a teetotaler whipping his wife. I don't mean to say that there are not among teetotalers some very mean men；I do not say that because a man is a teetotaler he has got every virtue under the sun. There are some shocking mean men among them;but I would rather have a mean teetotaler than a mean drunkard,you know；so that we have done them some good by getting them to sign the pledge. Now,a man that will strike a woman is a coward；and if he is drunk it is the drink which makes him a coward. If the man is sober, and his wife annoys him, whatever the provocation, however long her tongue may be, however aggravating she is -and they can be awful aggravating sometimeg-if she makeg his house a perfect hell for him,if he cannot stand it let him act like a man,and run away！ If I saw a man running through the streets and a woman after him,I should say “You area brave fellow,go it.” But the moment he should turn round and strike the woman I would say.“ Ah ！ vou are a coward.”

I was once asked to go and see a drunkard-the worst, they said, in the whole town.I said,“ You have no right to ask me to go and see him unless he wishes to see me ；if he comes to me I will see him；or if he wishes me to go to hig house I will go.IfI went unbidden he might say, “Who told you I was a drunkard ？ mind your own business and I will mind mine；wait until I send for you."I have no more right to go into the poor man's house than into that splendid mansion. The servants would turn me out there；and the working man has as much pride ag another man.“But,it was replied,"the man beat a little girl fourteen years of age (and she will carry the marks to her grave) because she went to bed before he went home."I do not want”Isaid,"to go to such a man.” “But,his wifeis very illwith a'bilious fever,and the doctor thinks she cannot get over it ； the inan has not been drinking for some dayg,and if you could see him now Ibelieve you might do him some good."Under these cireumstances I said I would go，and I went accordingly, and tried to make some excuse for calling.When he came to the door he knew me." Mr. Gough,” he said." Yes,” saidI,“will you give me a tumbler of water,if you please“Oyes, wont you walk in2Ithen walked in, and I sat one side of the table,and he the other.Two little children wereplaying in therooin；and a door was half opened which led into another room where the wife was lyingill.Ibegan to talk to the manabout everything Icould think ofbut temperance-about trade,thecrops, railroads, till I got on to drink-then he headed me offI beganagain,and talked about the badness of the roads, travelling，businesg,drink-he headed me off again. 1 fancied_Isawamalicious smile in his eyes,as muchas to say，“Young man, you are not up to your business yet; andI thought Imust give it up.Providentially，I thought of the children,andIid,"Pretty-looking children thoe， sir.“Yes,sir,"aid he,"theyare prety good cldren. And you love your children, don't you“Blesg the children !”said he,“ to be sure I do.”"And you would do anythingin the world to benefit them,wouldn't you ？" Iasked. Then he looked as if he expected something else was coining；buthe said,“Yes,to be sure,Iought to be willing tobenefit my children.”“Well”'said I,“Iam going to ask you a plain, simple question-don't be angry with me-suppose you never drank any more liquor as long asyou lived,don'tyou thinkthosechildrenwouldbebetter off" Well" heaid, apparently puzzled," Iown you have got me this time；the children would be betteroff if I wereto quit drink.“And you havea good wife,haven't you,Iinquired.“Yes,she isas gooda wife as evera man had."And you love your wife?To be sure I do“And would do anything to please her7 Well,I ought to.”Now,aid I,"suppose you should sign the pledge,would that please'herBythunderIguessit wouid; Icouldn't doa thing that would please herlike that. IfI signed the pledge I believe my old woman would be about her businessin two weeks."“Then you willdo it, won't you ?”“I guess Iwill;and he at once spread out thepaper,squared his yards,and wrote his name.The children had been listening witheyes wide open,looking likelittle saucers,aswe were talking about temperance. One said to the other,“Father has signed the pledge.” “Oh!” cried the other,astonished,“Iwill go and tell mother,and away she ran. The mother,when she heard it,called out“Luke,Luke,come in here."The man went in, and took me with him.The wife's face was ghastly pale, the eye large, and sunk in the socket；with her long thin fingers she gripped my hand,and with the other took thehand of her husband；and her face,sharpasit was, lookedradiantinthe light that seemed tobatheitcoming from the throne of everlasting love. She then told me whata good husband she had.“Luke,she said,"is a kind husband and a good father；he takes care of the faiilyand isvery kind to them;but thedrink,you know, sometimes makesa little difficulty.".Oh！that little diffculty！God only and the crushed drunkard's wife know whatit is.The man shook likea leaf；then tearing down his wife's night dress,he said.“Look at that！ Onher white shoulders wasa bad-looking mark.Again, he said,“Look at that!”and I sawa bruise on her neck, which made my flesh creep.“Three days before she was taken sick,”he said,“I struck her-God forgive me！ She hasbeen telling you she has got a good husband..Am I?amIa good husband？Look at that！God Almighty forgive me." He bowed over that woman,and I never sawa man cry so in my life；it seemed as if he had gone into convulsions.“Don't cry,Luke,"sobbed his wife,“don’t,please don't；you would not have struck meifit hadn'tbeen forthe drink；now you have signed the pledge we shall all be happy again.Don’t cry.”

These are the men you call brutes,fends,devils. Strip them of the damning influence of drink,and they are men. Thereis no power on earth that will makea mana fend like the power of drink. Young man,sitting now beside that young girl whom you hope to make your wife.You never dream as you look lovingly in her face, that your hand willever be dashed into that face,sending the blood

Bpouting from the mouth. It never will,unless you do it under theinfluence of drink.Let me say to you,young woman,if you never wish to become that pitiful thing a runkard'swife,if you never wish to know what hard usage and hardliving and hardblows are-ifyou never wish toreap biter harvest of woe,never,onanyconsiderationwhatever, go with your sweetheart into a drinking-house-never！I have felt deep sympathy with those wiveswho have been bruised and beaten, butI confess my sympathy has not always been increased by a knowledge of the facts. In your large towns, I have sometimes looked into your ginBhops and drinking houses, and I have seen young women, respectable in appearance, go into them arm in arm with artizans, their lovers,while out of the same door came the blaspheming woman and the cursing inan. I have felt on geeing them,-if that is the way young women exert an infuence over those whom they intend to make their nusbands,what wonder if in bitterness and anguish they have to repent by and by.Young woman,stand up and Bayto the manwho tells you he loves you,“Manifest your love to me asa man,but never ask me to gowhere drink is sold,to partake with you of that which has debased, degraded, ruined and dishonoured more women than any other ten iuences on the face of the whole earth.”

Some men are irresistibly comical in treir drunkenness going about they don't know where. They remind me of the story of a boy walking through the streets with a couple of dogs. Some one said to him,“Where are those dogs going?“I don't know,was the reply,“they have come in by the coach,and have eaten their direction." These men positively look as if they had drunk their directions,and did not know where they were going.Other men assume such airs of importance that you cannot help laughing at them.One man said to another," Look here, if you want to borrow thousand pounds inyour business, come down to my office,andI shall bevery happy to lend it you.” His friend thought he could use a thousand pounds admirably,and he went to his friend the next morning,and said“You told me if I came to your offioa, you could let me have a thougand pounds to use in my business.“Did I？”“ Yes."“Well, I haven't got it now，but I may have it by night.”

I heard of a fact,and I know it to be true,that a man came into his own house drunk. He caught hold of his litle child,thrust her and intoatrap,and started the spring；and there he stood laughing likea devil as the child shrieked with pain,hertender fingersbeinglacerated and torn by the sharp teeth of the trap.

I saw one sight the remembrance of which is burned intomy brain；indeed after that sightI neitherslept nor atefortwenty-four hours.I was asked bya gentleman, named Johnson,to goand seea family.The wife,he said, wag very illandthe husband wasa drunkard; he had graduatedat the University ofGlasgow,and hereceived fromEngland aboutflooayearinquarterlypaments,but it was generallyall spentbefore he received it.Isaw the family. Onabed raiged about four incheg from the floor laya womandead,her eyes open and staring as only dead eyes can stare,and the mouth partly open. Two little childrenwere there,and a pail inwhich there had been whiskey, stood on the foor. A half-drunk crone of a woman sat rouching by the fire-place smoking a pipe,the man wag drunk.Mr.Johngon said to him,“I am sorry to find your wifegone.”“No,"said he,“she isn't,she isn't,she isn’t dead."Mr.Johnson,“Sit down Sir”Baid he.“She's served me the same trick before,said the husband；and he got asmall looking-glass and held it over her parted lips. “Look,”he said,"there's breath on the glass“Sit down, Sir,orI will have an officer for you.”That made the man angry,and hesprang up,and said with a horrible,blasphemous expression,“she isn't dead,and I'll proveitand so aying he dashed his fist in her face,mutilating it so that theyhad to coveritwitha blanket.Iay，then,that whetheramaniga jibing foolamiserable mountebank,a fighting bully,a wretched coward,ora raving madman, drunkennessis debasing，degrading,blasting，blighting withering，mildewing,damning,to all thatis noble and bright and glorious and beautiful and lovely in a human being.

I say there is no good in intoxicating liquorg. “ Yes,” but say some, { \pmb { \mathscr { \sigma } } } _ { \bf { I } } know better than that.AsIwas coming acrogs in the steam-ship America,a person on board,who called himself a gentleman,Iuppose,tried toinsult me; but such a gentleman never can insult me,and so he failed. “ Whatl" Baidhe"going toGreat Britain totell the Englishman that he must give up hisbeer！ Whybeer is thelife of an Englishman.Ithought tomyself“ What a beery sort ofexistence that must be." But some say,“Ican do better wit beer than without it."Idoubt it.Have youever tried long enough? Remember that in every 100 gallons of beer there are \mathfrak { s } \mathrm { 1 } _ { \frac { 1 } { 2 } } gallons of water, and gallons of alcohol. So far you have water and poison; there is no nutriment yet；about 3 gallons of what is called extractive is all the nourishment you can obtain. If you boil a gallon of beer you will find all the nourishment sticking to thebottom of the kettle；and a nice looking mess itis too.Baron Liebig sayg,thatif a man drink eight quarts of the strongest ale per day,he getsas much nourishmentas there isin the flour which you can hold on the point ofa knife；and if he drinks that quantity every day in theyear,he will get as much nourishment as there is in a five pound loaf of bread or about three pounds_of meat. But a man may say，“I can do more work under the influence of beer than without it."You may.A man under the influence of stimulants may lift more than atother times；put is that any good to him？ Suppose ahorse cannot starta very heavy load,and you say he shall do it.You bringup your reins,and hollo；the horse puts his shoulder to the collar,and strains with all his might, but he doesn't start.Your neighbour says he can't start,but you say he shall.You bring up your reins again； the horse puts his shoulder to the collar, every nerve stands out in bold relief；you take that big black whip of yours,and as he is straining to the utmost you hit him a terrible crack on the flank,and he starts the load. But did you give him strength？ No,you gave him stimulant; you made him do what he had no right to do,and what you had no right to make him do.Any man who does work under the influence of stimulant,(whether in the coal pit,orin the iron mine,whether at the forge,or at the bench,onthe platform or in the pulpit),that he could not do without it,does it to the damage to his constitution,pay-day will come by and by. Nature is a hard creditor；interest accumulates,and when pay-day comes theman is broken down far in advance of his time.

I say there is no good in beer, but there is positive evil. Is thereany gratification？If there is it isallat the time of drinking. Did you ever experience any gratification the next morning after a drinking night？ The gratification was produced by stimulating the system. Then there is a reaction-it must come.My word for it, the beer and

Bpirit drinkers enjoy less of this world's good than any other class of men among us, they are either in fiery excitement, their brain bewildered,their senses confused,and theircapacity to enjoy destroyed for the time being；or else they are recovering from excess of excitement,and feel most miserable and wretched. Then do not common gense and sound judgment dictate to you to abandon intoxicating liquors for ever？“But,”say_some,“I won't ign away my liberty. What liberty？Ihave seen men in this city with liberty to fall down, but no liberty to get up again unless they were helped.i sonsider thatI never knew what freedom was while I was a drunkard. The drunkard is the most abject slave on the face of the earth.

How many drinking men_put themselves in positions of which they are ashamed！Iheard ofone of these young men who never would“sign away their liberty,”who used to go courting a young lady. He used to drink a great dealand when he got so intoxicated that he could not see hisDulcinea, he would take to his father-in-law that was to be.On one of these occasions,his father-in-law told him there wasa fine lot of sheep that would come to him, Bome horses,and somefine pigs,adding,“Ishould like you tolook at the pig“I should liketo see them very well,said the young man.Stooping to look into the pen, over he went.The hogs did not like the intrusion of a drunkard,so they huffed at him.He didn't like that,and, raising himselfup as well as he could,he said,“Hold your tongue；Iconsidermyself full as good as any of you.” I should like to know whetherany ofyou young ladieswould like to walk up and down with a young gentleman who at any time considered himself full as good as hogs. Yet this young man had liberty-freedom.People do not act with common sense in this matter as they doin others. I have read of a Yankee who went into an apothecary's shop in Boston.“Are youa drugger?" he asked.“I am an apothecary,and Isell drugs.“Well,have you got any of these here scentin'stuffs for gals to put on their handkerchiefs ？” “Yes,I have.”“Well, my sister Sal gave me nine-pence,and told me to invest the whole in scentg,and Ishould like to smell a few specimens."“Here is some essence of peppermint,”said the chemist.“Oh，that's royal,"said the man. "“Here is some cssence of lemon.” “That's royaller.At last the apothecary took some essence of hartshorn.“ This,”gaid he, “is a very subtle esence,and if you want to get the virtue of it, the pure scent, you must draw as hard as you can；a simple sniff will do no good"“Hold on aminute,said the man,“till I get ready;”and then taking in a good breath,over he went. Now,what did he do? Did he get up and smell again ？ No, he had too much common senge :as soon ag he got on his feet,he squared his arms and began to show fight, saying,“If you make me smell that 'tarnal everlastin' stuff again,I'll make you smell fire and brimstone."There was some common sense in that. Yetin the matter of drinking men go up to their old enemy； he knocks them over ； up they get,and over they go again, and so it continueg until they have hardly strength enough to bring themselves up upon their hands and knees to kiss the foot of their enemy who,with the next spurn, sends the poor shrieking spirit into eternity,infatuated by the influenceg ofdrink.Yet men boast that they will not “sign away their privileges.”

I look back upon the past. For seven yearg I was.a slave,a poor,whipped,branded slave, wandering over God'g beautiful earth like an unblessed spirit；whipped over the burning desert,digging deep wells to quench my thirst, and bringing out dry,hot sand；steeped to the lipg in poverty，misery,wretchednesg, want,and woe.“Ah!" you may say，You were weak-minded man You may call me weak-minded if you please.I acknowledge thatI became adrunkard (as someof you haveperhaps)intrying tobe a moderate drinker,and failing.Icannot be a mo derate drinker. Persong have said that Iam weak-minded when I have inade that admission；but I am in good company.I have read that Dr.Johnson,in a tour to the Hebrides，was asked to take wine.“I cannot,”he said, “ for with me moderation is exces." “ But certainly you can carry off one glass"“ No, madam," gaid the doctor, it would carry me off."Is that a man's fault？ Is it my fault that the first glass goes like fireinmy blood,that the second glassaffects every nerve of my frame,that the third makesme sing and leapand laugh,andthat the fourth nakes medrink another？I wasso weak that thelivery of my master had become like a garment of burning poison；yet Ihugged it to me.Iwas so weak that the livid corpse of drunkenness was bound to my body bythong Ifelt Icould not sever; it wasa horrible,putrefying masfoot to foot hand to andeart toeartoneeating with l, t other rotting with putrefaction..,I was so weak that I lay prostrate while the pale horse with Death for his rider was about to trample me with his iron-bound hoofs into a drunkard'shell；yet,weak agIwas,I thank God that he gaveme power toseize that horse by the bridle,and bring him upon his haunches,and hold up free unfettered hands to-night.Yes,free-not a dropof the damning drink in my system-free to love and to be beloved-free to tand up a man-free to think-free to look into the future and see the dark pall that hung over the drunkard's grave looped,and a bright beaming star of hope dawning upon my path-so that Iam free to hope,free to stand up asa man, free topray.Ah！ah！ifIcannotbea moderatedrinker, thank God,I can bea total abstainer.

We offer you this, working men ; and we offer you also the opportunity of doing good.Is not that worth something The last Sunday night in October,1842,a young man fixed hiseye upon me.His name had never been heard out of the circle of his acquaintance;he had never uttered a word in public in his life；he never had been ona committee； e was a hard-working man struggling against povertyquiet,unobtrusive,self-sacrificing,in every good work. What do you think'hisplan wasiHe would fix his eye upon soine victim of this vice, and would say,“ Now to that man I will bend my energies；I will work over him and layby himuntil he dieg or Idie.”By that meang he saved more than a score. He was a perfect stranger to me. He was dressed very decently,and he came up and laid his hand on my shoulder and said,“Mr.Gough,I believe？”“That is my name,”Isaid.Said he,“You've been drinking to-day，haven't you” That was enough to make me turn right round in a.fury,and ask him what his business was with me.But Mrs.Stowe sayg in her Uncle Tom's Cabin that when Jesus would do good to the poor,he went and laid his hands on them；and if you expect to do good to your brother you cannot do it by standing afar offand pointing,；you must lay your hand on him: Don't be afraid of defiling your fingers with themire of the kennel；plunge your arm in up to the elbow todrag him out；never mind,if you put both armsright under him and bring your own face down to the fetid pool in which he liesin hisdegradation,ifyou canbringhimup. That is the doctrine on which we move in this enterprise. A the young man Baid what wag offenaive to me, he put his arm in mine and walked with me. I was shabby ；he was not:and as I iooked at him from head to foot I'said to myself, “If you have no objection to walk with me,I don't see that I should have any objection to walk with youWalking along he said, "I want you tosign the pledge.""Il never do it-never-as long as Ilive；no bodyintheworld cares forme；ifIdied ina ditch there wouldn't be a tear shed,and I'll drink as long asI live." “ Well,but you haven'talways talked like that." { \bf \nabla } { \bf \psi } ^ { \prime } { \bf N } _ { 0 } , ” BaidI,“Ihave not.”“Andyou haven'talways felt as you now feel”“No,I have not."“How should you like to feel asI feel-as you did before you began todrink ?” “First rate；but I never shall；I shall never see those good dayg again as long as Ilive.a Put your name to the pledge,he said,and you will see better days;I don't know manypeoplein the town,butIwillintroduce ycto the few I know；put your name to the temperance pledge,and we will makea man of you yet."“ No,I will netage"Yes,you willke " NonorYes"" Non You will see better days than ever you saw before." “ Well, then Iwilldo it."" When will you do it ”“I won't do it to-night；you are going to havea temperance meeting to-morrow night,and Plcome there and doit."If he had said,Idon'tbelieve you will,you had betterdo itat once,I believeI should have said,“Now,Iwon't touch the pledge；you mind your own business and Ill mind mineBut,he gave me his handand said，Tats right I will come and see you do it.”“ So you shall"I said, "and Illcome if Idie forit;ifthey have to carry me there Pl do it；and I gripped hig hand with all my might.I drank that night and the next morning.In the evening I went to the meeting and saw my friend there."You see Iam here,"I said,“Yes,said he,“I knew you would come when you said so.""'Did you,though” “ Yes,I did." In the course ofthe meeting Iasked ifl might say afew words, and the president said,“Yes,sir.”I know he said Sir" I remember that. I then went forward and faced an audience for the first time in my life. Some young men began to laugh,and my old spirit came into me.“What are you laughingat?Isaid;Iam as goodas you,anyhow;Ihave seen the time when I could get in better coinpany than any of you,and pay fora better suit of clothes than your tailor ever trusted you for."A sense ofmy desolation came over me,and I said,“It is this accursed drink that mademe a bankruptin fortune andreputation,but Iam going to put my name to the pledge."And when I signed it I went away, chuckling to myself,saying,“I'vedoneit,Ive doneitI've done it,"like theschool-boywhistling in thechurchyard,“to keep my courage up.”“I've done it,I've doneit!"Aman came after me and struck me on the back,and said,“IfI hadn't seen it,Iwouldn't have believed it.”“Yes,"said I, “Ive done it!"I went home,and then began the fight. It was a terrible fight,and no man that never experienced it canknow anything of it. For one year Inever saw a waking hour,daynor night,but withall the power I had in my system Iwanted drink. It was one continual fight, untilI felt that it must last as longas I lived.Thank God, Iam free to-night. You may ask,“Have you no appetite？ Idon't know,and God helping me,Iwill die in blissful ignorance of the fact.”That young man met me before I leftthe United States,and he said,“Well John how do you do ?"Doing very well-first rate”I said.“You have been to a good many places, haven't you？“ Yes. Iam working at the same old trade.“How many nameg do you think you have got on the pledge?"“Well,”Isaid, “Ikept account for two years,and I think there were about 265,0oo.“And how many of those do you think were reformed drunkards ?“About 50,000 or 60,0oo. But some fall away,and have to be renewed,for it isa hard thing to savea drunkard；but we have saved a good many." “Some of those,I suppose," have got others?" Heasked, " Oh yes,a good many."The tearg run down the young man'scheeksas he gripped my hand.“WellJohn,he said, “ When I put my hand on your shoulder and made up my mind to stick toyou till yousigned thepledge,Ihad no conception of this. Here you are going up and down the country and getting names to the pledge.‘Oh！John if I had never done anything but that in my whole life,I should thank God uponmy death bed,that ever Ilaid my hand upon your shoulder."

I say to you, go and do likewise.If each teetotaler would pick out a man in this way,we should have such additions to the temperance ranks as would astonish them. This isa noble enterprise.Iknow it requires some selfdenial,but our principle isa manly one-total abstinence. Wecan have no compromise.What would be the result if we allowed any compromise？A man once got up at a meeting which I held,and said,“I will sign the pledge if you will let me have a little drop when I want_it as & medicine.” When I see a man prescribing for sickness so long in advance,I alwayg look at him with suspicion.I said,“When the doctor prescribes it,you may take it.” “But,”said he,“I don't want togoto the doctor every timeIamsick,Iwantto takea litle whenIneed it；if you will let me do that I will join the society,because I think you are doing a great work.”Any one would give ushisnamein that wayforitwouldoost him nothing. “WhenIfeelIneed it！Itis very cold to-day；Ishiver fromhead to foot,Imust have a little somethingbecause it is so cold.”Or,“it is very hot to-day,dear me！Such weather as this sweltersa man to death,I must have Bomething to keep me up in such hot weather.”

Another man drinksa little_in summer time,because there areinsectsin the water,and spirits kill them.Another wants something in winter time,because it is so awful to drink cold waterAnothermanisveryill.For eighteen years he has taken the same remedy,and hewill go and try alittlemore of it.Anotheris tolerably well,but the glass ig falling,and the last time the wind wasin that quarter it gave him a terrible pain.He took a little something 88 a preventive,and he will.try it once more. This reminds one of the man who wanted some brandy and water.I must have it,he said,thismorning,because Iam so dry, but what makes me dry I do not know,unless it is thatI am going to have some salt fish for dinner. In the United Statesa man said he would sign the pledge if they would lethim drink when they washed sheep,that being usually done only oncea year.He took the pledge accordingly, and he got hold ofa sheep,and kept her in hisbarn,and washed her regularly four times a day all the year round.

We must have no compromise of principle. We should sink our enterprise beneath the contempt of those who degpise it now,ifweadmitted such a compromise.Workingmenof the City ofLondon,brethrenintrade,Iask you to look at this enterprise.Isit not manly?Is there not Bomethingnoble in it,to.say，“I will abstain!”Iam free-free tocome-free.togo！Iwill exert aninfuence forothers；Iwill drop a pebble into the ocean,the centre of which is everywhere, and the circumference nowhere.I willdropit there,praying that the ripple may increase until it shall be like a wave bearing,perhaps,upon its bosom，Bome souls saved by my instrumentality?We are here in this world todo good,and we cannot do gooe without its costing us something.Every benevolent enterprise costs oomething to those who adopt its prinoiples. Wil you not aidugin thig work Working men of this city,there is power enough here in this room toshake London,large as it is；aye,to move this beam off your metropolis.

Working-men you can put the trumpet to your lipe to-night,and blow guch a blast as will wake up the dull, dead,stocks and stoneg, in our churcheg, our counting houses,and our workshops. We shall go on to victory and to triumph. You have the power todo this,and I believe you will exert it. I know it will be said that we need the influence of other classes. So we do ；but if there is no work of reform going on among you, we may just as well keep it exclusively toacertain oircle for all the good that will be permanently accomplished for the benefit of all. Our benevolence is large. The man is a base slave whose love of right is not for all his raoe,but only for himself. Our enterprise is in advance of the public sentiment of the age.Every good enterprise has been in advance of the publio sentiment,and I would not give muoh for an enterprise that wag not. Then come and help ug. Roll on this glorious car with thankggiving and songs of praise from those who have been redeemed from the power of the destroyer.Will you help us? That is the question. As minister onoe said at the close of hig sermon,“ You are ready to exclaim,‘Ig it all done, No,it is all said；it remains with you to say whether it shall be done." That God may give you the will,and the deaire, and the strength, and the power,to battle against the enemy to the workingclasses of this city is my sincere and earnest prayer.

I thank you for your patience. Ido not believe that an audience like this could have agsembled in many placessome standing in such uneasy positions-and be as quiet and orderly as you have been.Some one said,“If there is& crowd Ifear there willbea disturbanoe.” He did not know the working men of the City of London. This meeting is gratifying to the friends of the cause,whilst it is an honour to you. There is not an employer in this assembly in whose estimation the working-classes must not have risen to-night. Pereonally,I thank you. I have simply given you the result of my experience and observation. “You have kindly listened to me；you have_borne with my weaknesg,andI thank you from my heart. Let ug stand side by side in this great conflict；Let our motto be excelsior！our hope,there is & better day dawning；and our prayer,“God speed the right !\* Good night.

THE DANGEROUS DRINKING CUSTOMS. ORATION BY JOHN B. GOUGH. TUESDAY, APRIL 25TE, 1854.

LADIES AND GENTLEMEN,-In speaking to the public on the subject of temperance,we feel ourselves always bound to Bpeak freelyand fairly,and fullyand fearlessly,withregard to the obstacles in the way of the movement. Ibelieve,never inmy life have Ivolunteered an addressto the people.Inever speak unless Iam invited；I never go to a place to speak unless the people want to hear me；and if they come to hear me they must expect that Ishall speak my opinions fullyand fearlessly.Ido not ask thig audience to take thatwhich I say upon trust,and believeit because Isay it；Iam liable to error and misapprehension:all I ask you is to put what I say into the crucible and set it over thefurnace,and try it out ;and if among the white ashes of error you find one sparkling gem of truth that is worth Bomething-take that，and let the white ashes go to the winds..In engaging in this work we feel that we are entering into a mighty moral conflict and warfare against instrumentalities that tend topromote and perpetuate the evil of drunkenness. If death was _left alone, the gaunt, grizzly reformer would sweep Great Britain of drunkenness in twenty-five years, if there were not more made. Who are they made of？ Thank God,not of total abstainers！No man takes one step from total abstinence just down to.drunkenness.Every individual who becomes intemperate becomesso bytakingthe first step,andgoing down thefatal sliding-scale to the ditch. Among the generation now living there are intemperate men whom we have no expectation of saving; we look with hope to the coming generation,and we feel thata great part ofour business is to buildabarrier between theunpolluted lipand the intoxicating cup.Therefore we appeal to fathers and mothers,and brothers and sisters,and guardians and teachers,to help us in the work of breaking down the ingtruinentalities that tend topromote and perpetuate the evil of drunkenness, which instrumen talities are the social drinking usages of society-useless in themselves, yet productive of evils such aswe shall never knowuntil that day for which allother days were made, whenwe shall see things as they are.I have been astonished to see mothers,that lovetheir children, giving them that which, not must,but may,produce in them results fearful to contemplate. A youngiuan once Baid to me,“I almost hate my mother,when I remember how in that aoourged dining-room she tapped me on the head, and said,‘ Only halfa glasg, my dear,' when_ I wag drinking some one's health,to see how like a man Icould doit;every particle ofaffection is burned right out of me when I feel that she has sowed seeds into my system, thefruit ofwhich Iam reaping now,and shall reap in hellThe mother,when she gives thechild drink,has no idea that such results will be produced.

THE DANGEROUS DRINKING CUSTOMS. ORATION BY JOHN B. GOUGH. TUESDAY, APRIL 25TE, 1854.

When riding in a railway carriage from Liverpool to Halifax,on the2oth ofDecember,Isawalady,a gentleman,and a littlechild-a beautiful boy,a lovely creature to lookupon.By their appearance they evidently moved ina genteel circle of society；but I have always noticed that persons who carry bottles with them get faint at the outset of the journey.They pulled out a bottleanda railwayglass；Ido not know how much drink the bottle held, butIknow how many glasses,for I counted,and there were eight. The gentleman drank one,the lady five, and the child two.The child,however,would not have had the Becond ifithadnot cried forit.Thelady settled herself comfortably in the cushions, shut her eyes and opened her mouth;her underlipdropped as ifshehad not strength to hold itup；and thoughitis not polite tosay that a lady snored,shedid snore,and that most palpably.But,what of the child？ Hewas positively drunk.In tenminutes his face was marred as ifa foul hand had passed over it；the spirit in the wine had sent the blood through the tender vessels into the child's face；the eyes looked bloodshot,the face was flushed,and from being a beautiful child to look upon, it became a perfect nuisance-so much so that I was glad to get out of the carriage.But who will dare to say that thatmotherdidnotlove herchild？ Had he been lyingupon a sick bed she would wind her loving arms around him to Bave him from pain and anguish;she would spend days and nights of waking agony to shield the child from sufering; yet,she was giving him that which might produce in his gystem an appetite that would become a master passion, to gratifywhich hewould barterallthe jewels that God had given him-jewels worth all the kingdoms of the earth； for“what willa man give in exchange for his soul A lady said tome,not four weeksago,ridingin her carriage, I wish you could get my boy to Bign the pledge; he is betweeneight and nineyears ofage,but heisacomplete litle winebibber.We only allow him halfa glass occaBionally,but he will watch for the wine,and even count the days to the time when he expectg to have some."I suppose it would be outrageous for me to say that that mother was destitute of natural affoction；but there seemg to be a perfect fasoination in the drinking usageg ofsociety； forfathers and motherg do not seem willing togive up & paltry glass of wine or ale to save their own children.

Remember,drunkenness does not exist altogether among the lower orders of society. Some people say,“Iadvise you to go to the Seven Dials,or Tower Hill,and talk to the people there."In my opinion drunkenness has been a curse to the middle and the upper classes of society as much-in view of eternity as much-as it hag been to the lowest.Ioonsider a man as much a drunkard if he lies upon hisbed of down and rolls from it upon his magnifioent car petin a sumptuous apartment, with mirrors all around him,showing him his own beastiality,a mucha debased, degraded,and imbruted sot,as the man that liegin the kennel, his hair soaking with thefilth of the gutter:itis only the circumstances by which he is surrounded which Baves him from the position of the other；but the drunkard,inwhatever tation hemaybe,whostupefies his intellect,dethrones hisreason,becloudshis mind,puts an extinguisher on the light that God has given hin,oommits as grievousa sin against God and his own soulas the man who wallowg in the lowest kennel in your city.

A City Migsionary once showed me a cellar in St. Giles's "Therehesaid,onceawamanonhisdeathbed heap of rotten straw,who six yearsago hung pictures in the Suffolk Galeryand moved among the best irclesin the landI askedWhat has brought youto this'and liftingup his emaciated arms and fingers like the claws of an unclean bird,he cried out,as his thin lips drew tight across his teeth,and the rattle inthe throat told that the cold fingers of death were feeling for his heart-stringg, The bottlethe bottle,the accursed bottle brought me to this!And that is the storyof thousands who dieand are remembered no more.

In Sunderland I was.shown a picture painted by a pergon who was an intimate acquaintance of Sir Walter cott,and spent weeks at AbbotsfordHe would paint pictures ontin,the headsof barrels,plain boards,and send his wife or daughters out to sell them.They received 1.6d.2s.,Or2s.6d.for them；and thosewhohave them now prize them as works of art.The man died miserably, and his wife and twodaughter to-day inSunderland are ten times worse than conmon drunkards.

A City Migsionary onoe asked me if I wag going to remain in London 1 Igaid,“Ileave at two oelock.Iam sorry for that,”he said；“for thereis a young man I should like to save,and I should be glad if you could see him. He ig the son of a minister of the gospel, well educated, speaks fuently five languages,-a noble hearted young man ；he has taught some of our first ministerg elocution,and now heis herdingwith the lowest of the low,in thevilest lodging-houses of the city.When Ipicked himup he had fallen down from faintness arising from want of food"

The vicar_of a certain parish stood up in Cheltenham and said,“I was asked to go to a union to see a poor Wretch who had broken a blood-vessel,and I found that he was the son of a beneficed clergyman,whose mother was riding in her carriage.I sent her word that I had got her boy,and she sent a reply,‘We have cast him off for ever. I obtained money from her sufficient to purchase a chair. For three months he drew the chair about for his bread, and hekept a little school at night to eke out his scanty means. But his appetite overcame him in temptation, he old his chair and hisbooks,and staggered out on his way to Gloucester ag miserable as ever.”

Drunkenness ig confined to no rank ；it is an evil that seems to permeate every class, causing misery,wretchedness and woe. It is pitiful indeed to witness the resultg which it produces. Ihave a letter in my possession now, which was handed to me as I came into this hall from a man who writes to me-and he writeg well-saying that he is a lawyer, reduced to_the verge of starvation by drink; he hopes to see better days；hearing last night that there was hope for him,he has made up hig mind；he sayg,“I will sign the pledge,and I believe Ican keep it；I'will struggle for it atany rate.”

But it is said,“ All who drink don't.become drunkards." Iknow that,but thatisno reasonable argument. Would you say,“Here is a thing that sends thousands to a drunkard's grave,but because it doesn't send everybody I will giveit toiny childSuppose you are goingtokilla mad dog,and I say，“Don't,he is one of God's good creatures,let him live”“Yes,but he will bite Bomebody” you say.“Probably he will,but he won't bite everybody, let him go.”

A party went from Buffalo to Niagara Falls, to spend a week or two there.Among them wasa beautiful child； her golden hair hung upon her snowy shoulders ; she wa8 the life of the company ；she plucked flowers, twined them into wreaths for her own peerless brow,and presented bouquets to her friends. There was also there a young man just come from college,rather conceited,yet high-spirited and noble-just the build of aman who would climb the bare face of the rock,and rob the eagle of her nest.Those of you who have visited Niagara know that after the dashing foaming waters of the rapids have passed, the river becomes almost as smooth as polished glass-just 80 orl0o yards beforeit takes its leap.It had become quitea fascination for people to look at that water； and,lying down upon their face,on the American side, they could touch it with their fingerg.You have been Bometimes at a railway station,when an express train has come thundering on,and if you have stood on the very verge of the platform,you may have feltadesire almost irresistible to go afterit,and it has required some nerve tokeep you back-there was fascinationand dangerin it. Small stakes,thenere placedintheground,ithrp tofasten tothe ancles of thepeople who wished to lie down and touch the water. The young man laughed at the precaution. “Precautions,saidhe,“for timid women and silly men；Ican do without them-ha！ ha!” Helooked into the water；the ladies shrieked；that only made hiin more given to bravado；he laughed at them and looked again. They shrieked,-"Stand back！stand back !He turned round and caught up the little child. “My darling, he said,“Iwill hold you whereno child wag everyet held”-and he held her over the rapids.He might have held her tuere for an hour;he wasa strong man, and had a firm grip of the child.'But she was afraid, she saw the water beneath her,and grew nervous； she gave & Bhriek-one twist-and he dropped her！Over she went, and not a bit of her body or clothes was ever seenafterwards.Now Isay to you,sir,Isay toyou madamif you give your child drink you areholding him over therapids. You may hold him there safe；but hemay bemore nervous thanyou dream of；you nay not havethat control over him that you suppose you have;he may slip and go over, and in that case your skirts are filled with his blood.

I know the mother would rather that God would smite the child with any disease under the sun than that he should be a drunkard. It isa fearful thing to have child burned to death,butyou would rather that than have him a drunkard.Iremember receiving & paper from

the United Stateg, containing an account of the burning ofHarper's cstablishment.Half a column gave an accouni of the loss of property,and more than half a column described a very simple circumstance connected with the fire.An emigrant woman had landed at New York with twochildren andall her property.She left them in Morton House,in FranklinSquareand went toFortythird Street to find her sister.She offered her a temporary home for herself and her children;and, glad at heart,the woman hastened for the children and the property.Passing along she heard a cry of"Fire fire! and the bels rang out a stirring pealShe paid no attention till some one asked "WhereisthefreTde replywatnFranklinquare only one house in that side.An engine rattled through the streets,the peoplemade way foritand cloged up again like waves of the sea,and she was shut out.Her cry was “MychildrenlmycldrenletmepuStand back,stand back!"said the crowd.“I cannot；let me passiA policeanae upand asked,What do you want ?"“My childrenshe saidarein theMorton House"“veryindividalidhesaved;butall the property is lost. Now,take my hand. Make way there! PolicePAnd hedragged thewomanthrough thecrowd and brought her in front of the burning building； there, on a heap of broken furniture, were her two children, with theirhands folded,and one of them called out,That's mother l"That mother was a happy woman ; she had lost every stick of property onthe face of the earth,but her bonny bairns were herown,and were saved.Now, there is notamother here who would not rather see her child burned to deathand itspure spirit takeitsfight into the bosom of Him who said,"Suffer lite children to come unto me,and forbid them not,than see it grow upin all pride and manliness, and then becomea drunkard \pmb { \mathfrak { s } } she had rather take the litle bits of charred bones raked out fromthe ashes of thefire,and bury them with hope,than follow her por drunken son to the grave with no hope in his death.Ah！I tellyou,Ihave found the most fort less creature on earth themother who has buried a druiken son.One mother said to me,she was eighty-fiveyears of age,and a cripple; the black veins had risenin bold relief upon her brown hand as she lifted it up aiter having told me of thesuffering she had experienced through the drunkenness of a son. “The man,” she said, " who_gave him his last drink came in with his dead body.Said she, “You sold my boy drink.”“I did aot know he was yourson,”the man replied.“You did；you knew it Was Frederick Faulkner, the only son of his poor old crippled mother,and you havekilled him.”“Thisis pretty hard language touse tome!”“Hard!said the woman, lookingup in my face as she told her tale.“Hard！and I cursed him.God forgive me for cursing one made in his image；but there was my only son,the child of many prayers, the child who I hoped would be the staff of my old age,and the prop ofmydecliningyears-there he lay before medead；and howdid hedie？ Drunk！Ihave no hopein the death of a drunkard；and Icursed the man that made him so.”Ohlit is pitiful when you cannot give such a one &word of hope,when shepoints with her long thin fingerg to the passage,“No drunkard can inherit eternal life."

Is not drunkennesg, then,to be dreaded ？ And is it not worth your while to rise up in your might, with hearts to feel,and heads to plan,and hands to work,and battle downthe customs of society that area temptation to your boy. We don't appeal to the selfish man-to theman who Bays,“I don't see why I should be called to give up my glass of wine because others make beasts of themselves. can take care of myself, and other people must take care of themselves."To such personsI have not a word to say Youstand there the incarnation of a selfsh principle, the very impersonation of pure unadulterated selfishness.We don't want you in the enterprise,foryou would dous no good if we had you.I heard of an old bailie,in Scotland, who opposed an improvement that was proposed for the benefit of the town.“Icannot see,”he said,“that itis going to benefit us at al.“But”it wasreplied," posterity willbe benefited.”“Posterity!"said he,“posterity！ Ihave yet to learn that posterity everdid anything forus, andIwon't vote for the measure.” Now,we don'tappeal to people like that；we appeal to men and women with hearts to feel,and Ibelieve we shall not appeal in vain.There is &deep-seated sympathy in the minds of most men for the sufferings of others, though they may not be related to them.Last year has been prolific in shipwrecks；and when I have beena hundred miles from the sea shore,and heard the wind whistling loud,we have sat bythe fire-side andspoken of thosewho might be exposed to the pitiless pelting storm；and in many a household have I heard an earnest petition put up that God would have mercy on the tempest-tossed mariner.I have asked if they had any friends at sea.Nonotafriend,ora relative,or acquaintance;but they felt forthose whohad,and it was good to bow down before God,and remember those who were not akin to them,bearing themup on the wings offaith to God, beseeching that hewould protect them.Iremember,when reading of the wrecks that were strewed upon the shoreg of Tynemouth,my heart leaped within meas Iread of the noblepilots putting offin the life-boat to save passengers andorew；I felt asifI could have gripped themby the hand-noble, true hearted sailors as they were. I re joiced,toasmuch aanyone,when Iheardthat New Yorkhad tendered the freedom of the city to Captain Creighton,of the Three Belsforlyingbythe San Francisco, nightand day,when he believed the vessel would soon sink if something was not done to save her；and it seemed as if [could walk till my feet ached to shake the noble hearted aptain by the hand and thank him for what he did for uffering humanity.

I was in the city of New York, when the question wag Bo oftenasked,“Any news of the Atlantic?”and the anawer day after day was," No.She had been due ten, fifteen,eighteen dayg.“Any news ”“No.” Telegraphic deapatohes came from all quarters,“Any newg of the Atlantic { \pmb \varphi } ^ { n } and the word thrilled back again,sinking down deep into the hearts of those who had friends on board“No!” Twenty days, twenty-one days,twenty-two days passed,and people began to be excited. Guns booming told that a ship was coming up the narrows；people went out upon the battery,on the Castle Gardens,onthe tops.of houses, to gee and hear. It was an English ship,the union jack was flying；they watched her till she came across to Jersey city to her moorings,and their hearts sank within them. They sent hastily across-“Any news of the Atlantic?”“Hasn't the Atlantic arrived ?”“No.""She Bailed fifteen dayg before we did,and we have heard nothing of her.”And then people said,“She is gone after thePresident.wenty-fie,twenty-six,twenty-e days passed,and those who had friends on board began to makeup their mourning.Twenty-nine,thirty days passed, and the captain's wife was so ill that the doctor said she must die if her suspense was not removed. Men began to shake their heads,and to whisper to one another, \mathbf { \mu } ^ { \mathbf { \sigma } } \mathbf { A } sad thing about the Atlantic,isn't it”“Yes indeod,it is."

One bright beautiful morning guns were heard, and a ship was seen coming up the narrows；a crowd was again collected,such as scarcely ever turned out at anytimesince the city was foundedThey looked through their spy glasses,and sawa British ship with the union jack fying. Howmen's hearts beat as they watched the ship until she came to her mooringg.The last hope seemed dying out, tillat last theship wasseen comingup the riverEvery eye was fixed upon her,people wiped away the dimness that came over them that they might see more distinctly.The noble ship steamed up the river, and making a circuit, came right up to the wharf where the people were assembled like clusters of bees；then they hoisted fags from trucks to the main chains；an officer jumped upon the paddlebox,and put the trumpet to hislipsand called out,“The Atlantic is safe；She has put into Cork forrepairs. How the people shouted！ Ah！it wasa shout froina hundred thousand throats. Men shook hands who never saw one another before;men dashed away tears from cheeks that had been unused to such moisture；bands of music paraded through the streets；transparencieswere put in front of thehotels,“TheAtlantic is safe！ The telegraphic wires worked allnight-thrill！thrill！thrill！“The Atlantic is safe"Thousands upon thousands rejoiced, but not onein ahundred thousand had an acquaintance on board that vessel.

Now we ask you to give up that which may be to you a gratification for the good of others.That is the nobility of ourenterprise；it requires benevolence,and true benevolencealways costs something.But some say“Willnothing but total abstinence do?”To use a Yankee expression, I guess not.What else would you have？ Shall it be occasional abstinence ? That is what every drunkard is obliged to come to；he must come to that sometimes to save his life；and,as the prison surgeons say,he is forced to adopt it when he gets into jail. It must be occasional or total { \ " } 0 \mathbf { h } , { \ " } Baysome,“use it moderately."What is moderately？ You cannot measure it； you cannot define it by quantity or quality.What is moderation to one man is death to another. You cannot measure moderation for any one else but yourself; and every manwho becomes a drunkard becomes so in striving to measure moderation for himself and going beyond the bounds when he was not aware of it.Some moderate drinkers would drink me raving mad in fortyeight hours;

8ome would drink me dead in a month. Some men are "mighty to drink wine and men ofstrength to mingle strong drinkand Ifind the ible does not pronounceablessing on such，The words,Ibelieve,are,“Woe unto them that aremighty todrink wine,and men of strength to mingle strong drink.A noble hearted total abstainer,a wealthy man,once said to me,“Mr.Gough,there are some circumstances of my life thatI should like to forget.Iwas what is called a bottle and a-half ora two-bottle man.Ihave taken more than two bottles at a time, and was never drunk in my life. But when I remember the young men who started in business withme-how Iused to drink them drunk and glory init-the vision willsometimes come upon me of these young men as I have seen them-young men not as stolid asIam in their temperament,upon whose brain the influenceof drink wasfearful.Itrained myself toit,andI thought,forsooth,that Icould train others.Isaid 'to the young men, { \boldsymbol { \cdot } } _ { \mathbf { I } } see that at table you get excited,that your face gets fushed-you take too much wine,and that's not gentlemanly. Don'tdrink your pint of wine at once; begin with three glasseg or four,and don't take any till you have eaten your fish；don't take it too fast or too slow；don't mix it, and above evorything avoid ale or beer ；and so by degrees you wili-be able to drink your bottle and a half. Butnot one intencould train himself；while I did it, othersfell intodrunkennessandIfeel asifIwas in some degree responsible for it.”

Some say,however, “ You will certainly let us have a litle asamedicine.Yesertainly wewill；we don't wage waragainst itas a medicine-that is,when menreally take it as medicine. I was once at a dinner party when gentleman at table,holdinga glassin his hand, said to a lady present,“I assure your ladyship,Iam personally an abstainer,and Iam opposed,"-and he swallowed the wine, " to the drinking usages of society;but I take wine by the prescription of my medical man.IthoughtI would see how much medicine he took,and before the meat was brought on-he was not trying to train himselfI rather suspect-he drank three glasses of sherry. I did not wonder then that people lay in their medicinea pipe ata tine, or by so many dozen bottles. I believe & great deal of this medicine taking ig rank, sheer hypocrisy；it may not be so inyour case,norinyoursnorinyours,butIbelieve it is in the majority of cases.A physician once told me that some men, whose consciences told them they ought not to

Bustain the _drinking customs of society, go to the doctor and say，“I feel a little torpidity in my system；I think my digestive organs are not exactly right, and I thought I would ask if a glass or two of wine would not,perhaps, promote digestion?”“Well,I don't knowbut you might take a little,carefully.”“Thank you,”and away he goes. Itake my wine by the prescription ofmy medical man! Some almost force the doctor to say that they might take it. If the medical men, however, were all like a physician in Birmingham, there would be less taking it as a medicine. A lady afflicted with spasm had intoxicating liquor given to her；but this physician prescribed something else. “Doctor,she said,“why haveyou changed my medicine” I never,hereplied,"prescribe intoxicating liquor to asick pergon ifI can help it,for I have known fearful cases of ah appetite for it being formed ina weak state of health；and ifIdo prescribe stimulants I make them so nauseous that my patients don't like them,and they don't come to me again for the tonic.” I don't want to runa tilt against the physicians;but when I find that two thouBand physicians-among them Sir Benjamin Brodie, Sir James Clark,and others-have put their names to their testimonial:that any individual may at once or by degres break off the use of intoxicating liquors as a beverage with no detriment to his health,and that perfect health is compatible with entire abstinence from stimulating drink,as beverage. I am surprised to find so many pereons taking them“by the prescription of their medical man.”

But there are one or_two objections to our mode of procedure,about which I should like to_say a word.A minister of the gospel once said to me,“Mr. Gough,I think thisisan unscriptural movement of yourgWhy so sir ”“Because I do not find any direct command in the Bible to form associations for the promotion of any particularvirtue-and temperanceisa virtue-or the suppresion of any particular vice.“ Wellsir”I aid,did you not addressa meeting that was called by the Early-Closing Association ”“ Yes“And did you not advocate the forming of such associations on moral grounds ?"" Yes, " Then,according to your doctrinc, you advocated an unBcriptural measure.Ifyou takethat ground against the temperance enterprise,you must take it against ragged schools, and apprentices lraries,and it wouldsweep aways with the besom of destruction,nine-tenths of the benevolent enterprisesthat arenowthe gloryofGreat Britain. Doctor

Candlish says it is a species of infidelity creeping into the church,that demandsa“thus saith the Lord,beforea man will go out of the way to help a brother.The Rev. W.Reid said,“If by lifting upa straw Iinjure my brother, Iamasmuch bound to desist asifIread in the Decalogue, Thou shalt not lift a straw."

ofGod unto salvation, to every man that believeth.The total abstinence pledge and principle will do a certain work,and no more.If a drunkard adopts it he cannot be a drunkard. If your boy never uses intoxicating liquor he cannot be intemperate.Begging your pardon,he may be thief,a liar,a Sabbath-breaker；he maybe the boldest brazen-faced blasphemer that ever lived；but he cannot be &drunkard. There isno virtue in the total abstinence pledge or principle to make a man anything else but a reformed drunkard,a soberman-it willdo that.You say the grace of God alone can effect it.Here is an infidel, and there is no virtuein total abstinence to make him a Christian；but Iwould rather havea sober infidel than & drunken professor of religion, because I love the church better than temperance associations,and Ibelieve these associations are promotive of the very highest interests of the church. Suppose I go into the ditch and bring out a drunkard.Istrip him of the grave-clothes of inebriation, I lead him along and whisper encouraging words in his ear,bringing him as far asIcan to the very threshold of your church. Haven't I done a good work by mere human agencyas far as it goes? Wouldn't you rather have him there sober than drunk？ Drunkenness is a physical evil, and it may be removed by human agency. The man's sin may not be removed,but he can no longer be a drunkard. Suppose you havea friend ona death bed-(Inow speak to Christian professors)ina raging fever,and you feel no hope of salvation for him.He bites his lipg,clencheg his fstand mutters unintelligible jargon.You know it is the graceof God only that can renew himin the spirit of hig mind.Bring in your minister；let him point to the sacrifice once made for sin. The man knows nothing about it；he ig mad,he doesn’t know the wife that bend tearfully over himWhat will you do？ You send forthe physician:by cool appliances he reduces the fever,and by mere human agency brings the patient toa sane state of mind. Now come blessed minister,whisper in his ear “It is a faithful saying and worthy of al acceptation, that Jesus came into the world to save sinners.” He hears, he understands ； light dawns upon his mind, and you may be theinstrument of his salvation when without that agency you could not have been so.Reading my bible,I have come to the conclusion, that when human agency can do no more then God does the work. At the tomb of Lazarus, Christ said,“Take away the stone.” He might have removed it,but he saw fit to use human instrumentality. Theyrolled away the_ stone,but they could do no more; they stood by while Jesus spoko；incipient putrefaction quivered and trembled into life,and Lazarus came forth. It was the power of God that raised the dcad ；but human agency reinoved the stone. And I believe the total abstinence enterprise has been instrumental in removing many and manya rock from the dark tomb where the drunkard haslain.So thatIfeel I can ask God to sanctify the enterprise to a higher end than mercly lifting a man from the ditch.Ithank God that some who were in the ditch have been redcemed.

People talk sometimes of“ temperance and religion." I know no such distinction in my own case；my temperance isapart of my religion. I cannot be a Christian and a moderate drinker any more than Ican bea thicf and a Christian. Iam not judging you. Don't go awayand say，I Baid that a man cannot bea Christian unless hc isa teetotaller.Iam only judging myself,and Isay that with my viewof the horrible evil of drunkenness,with my view of theway in whichI came toit,with my view of theinfuence every man exerts, with my vicw of the drinking customs of society,if I countenance those customs I ain violating my allegiance to heaven. We are not presuming toset temperance in the place of the gospel; but we believe these associationsspring from the gospel,like every other benevolent association.

Some have said that they tend to infdelity. I defy you to bring me one man who was ever made an infidel by becoming a teetotaler. He may have been an infidel before he signed the pledge. You say we must not receive uoh a one.Now,though Iam a member of what is called in New England the Orthodox Congregational Church, hall Iask a man,"Do you belong to my persuasion ?” DeforeI willstoop with him and put shoulder to shoulder to help a man out of the ditch”No；we will work together to do good if we are wide as the poles asunder in politics and in religioug opinions. We have no right to push men off from the platform because they do not believe as we believe. Itell you one thing；if professing Christiang and ministers of the gospel had taken the position they ought to have taken upon the temperance question, I believe there would be fewer infidels among the teetotalerg, I know some of our reforned drunkards have said hard things;but remember who they were.The iron entered into theirsouls；they weremiserable,poor,wretched,de based,and degraded.Some kind friend whispered in their ear of hope；they wiped the dull film from their eyes and saw there was hope,and then were brought intothe house of God.Iam not now making a supposition only,but detailing facts which have more than once occurred.The man knows he is better than he was-better to himself, to hisfamily,and to society.He sits in God's house for the first time for fifteen years:he is afected by the singing and by the devotional exercises；and then the minister stands up and denounces the movement that has brought him from theditch.What is his opinion of that religion and that preaching？“ Here I wag” he says,"in misery and wretchedness, a cursing and blaspheming wretch ；I want to be better,I go to the houso of God,where I havc not l een since I was a child,and I hear the minister say it isall infidelity-itis putting temperance in the place of religion-and denouncing the movement that has so benefited me.”I feel as if there was fault on both sides.Let us throw back,however, the cause of infidelity where it belorgs. What if temperance advocates have said hard hings Will you attack the Christian religion,because of Itsprofessors？I read in a Carlisle paper that the Rev. Mr. So-and-So,after divine service went to a public-house and hecame so intoxicated that the ostler wished to drive him home,but he refused,and started full speed by himgelf；and he was afterwards found in the road dead, with hisface horribly bruised and mutilated.Will you say, Ig that the religion you boast of"No,the fault of a minister of the gospel no more mars the glorious structure of Christianity than the fall of a workman from the Crystal Palace will mar the beauty of that building. Do not, then, denounce the movement for the faults of itg advocates. believe the infidelity and indifference to religion in this country,as well as,in a great measure, in the United States,are engendered and supported by the inconsistencies of professing Christians more than by all the teetotalism that ever has been promulgated. A young man once came tome,and said,“John,Mr.Mason has been to me to talk about religion；and what do you suppose I told him?I Baid,‘Do you own the American Hotel？‘Yes,I do You get the rent of it ？‘Yes Ido.‘Nowsaid IMr. Mason, there's drunkennegs in that hotel from Saturday night till Sunday morning, drinking and, gambling, and scenes that are enough to make a man shudder. Now you give up your hotel,and then come and talk to me about religion,and Iwill hear you.” Now that was perfectly natural.

Riding from Edinburgh to Dunfermline,in company with a Frenchman-not a religious man, nor a total abstainerI heard him conversing with a City Missionary. He was reviling the religion of his own country；and the City Missionarysaid“You must rejoice tocometoa religious land now.“ Yes sair,said the Frenchman.“Isuppose you villcall Scotland very releegious；Ifind,sair,dat dere is a great deal of releegion,but very leetle Christianity！ I vill explainvot Imean.You have,in Scotland,society for good tingg-Sabbat-school, ragged school-very good Now,sair,I went toa meeting of de Society for de better Obsairvance of de Sabbat,and a gentlemandere made von grand big speech:‘Gentleman,he said,‘look at France, dat is my country,France is accursed of God:he has trodden herin de winepress of his fury for years,because shehas troddenunder foot de Sabbat day'He say,dat de people of Paris spend de Sunday at Versailles,in de teatre, in de ballroom,inde railway,andinallindsofamuse ment.Now,sair,I agree dat；but what business have dat man to say God has curged France because de people go for amusement on de Sabbat day,when dat very man keeps twelve men in his distillery all day Sunday ? You may call dat man,sair,very releegious,but I call him von big great hypocrite！To go into de felds is togo for pleasure,but to take de beautiful grain God has given us, and to make hell-fire of it,ismore worse dan pleasure. Dis man makes viskey of the grain.Now,I drink my vine,but Ido tink that viskeyis demost abomination ting dat ever vos made."

In a certain city in Great Britain, when making with a friend a tour of obseivation,on a Saturday night, we posted ourselves opposite a whiskey-shop,or gin-shopand stayed there about three-quarters of an hour.I saw women go in with children in their arms,looking as if they had been born to suffer, and gasp,and die, poor, pallid,rheum-eyed wretches,drinking their whiskey. Baw little bundles of rags standing tiptoe to put the money on the counter,and receiving the whiskey in exchange. One little girl had but one garment on her,and that was clinging to her limbs with wet；she came with a blacking bottle,got itflled,and took it away.Isaw everything from a blacking bottle to a tin pail brought there for whiskey.One man,inrags,hada bottle ofit,and then found money enough for a glass；half of this he drank himself,and the rest he gave toa boyabout eight yearg of age. SaidI,"What are they giving to the children besides”“Oh”said my friend,“they give them little bits of sweety,orcandyto encourage them to come to their shop.” Looking in another direction I saw the proprietor:there he was with his coat off dealing it out with three others, as busy as they could be."That man, said the gentleman who was with me,“is a trustee and offce-bearer in one of the prominent churches in our city."

Now,ladies and gentlemen,that is a thing which Icannot understand；you may impute itto my ignorance,if you please,but I cannot understand it；I say more,I don't want to understand it；and I say more,I pray God I never may understand it.

I was once walking in the city of Norfolk,in Virginia, and heard an auctioneer selling a female slave. 2 3 7 \frac { 1 } { 2 } dollarg,' he said；“now then, give us 24O-going,gentlemengoing.”One fellow came and lifted up the lip； another handled her as you would not handle a horse.I could not help saying aloud,“That is the most damnable sight I ever saw in a Christian place !’ The gentleman with whom Iwas kept his hand upon my mouthand said, “You must not say so.” Said L“I willsay so.Now. the scene I witnessed in Great Britain,and the scene I witnessedinrfolk,ginareinoinin,llel scenes in enormity；and Iconfess to you, these are thingg I cannot understand.

I have been grieved at what I have seen in this country. Iremember when certain petitiong were signed by religious people-and it was right to sign them.Iwould keep theSabbath day holy.Inever travel on the Sabbath,and I never will-not to save the piggest audience that ever came together from disappointment.I never go out to dinner or tea on the Sabbath,and never receive calls on that day ； therefore I shall not be misunderstood. There were petitions presented against the opening of the Crystal Palace on the Sabbath day.What is theCrystal Palace？ Those who have seen it say it can hardly enter into the mind of man to conceive its beauty:art, science, nature,all combined-sparkling fountains, beautiful walks, wondroug thingg from all parts of the world,nothing to injure,and everything to instruct and delight.Yet that must be shut, andI do not say that that is not right.But,I have been told,in some towsin England,“Weve tried toget up a meeting to petition parliament to shut the grog-shops on a Sunday,but we have failed for want of countenance from professing Christians.”That,I say,in my opinion,isan inconsistency.You may say，“You come fromanother country to talk about our customs.” Iam an Englishman ; I was born in England,and I claim this as my own land. My father fought for his country twenty-one years in the Peningular war，at Corunna,at Talavera,at Salamanca, and Badajos,and had a medal on his breast;and if I am not an Englishman I don'tknow who is. I have a right, then,to battle,incompanywith others,against every instrumentality that iscursing Great Britain-the land of my fathers,and the place of my nativity.

Will you help us in this enterprise？ You may to-night rise up in your might and trample under foot in your own circle-and your circle is but the centre of another-the drinking customs of society；and then the blessing of those who are ready to perish may rest upon you；and youwill rejoice that you have been instrumental in doing good.