There are often breathed in the ear of city missionaries and ministers charges which might bring the husbands of those that whisper them to the gallows. Many a babe gets its death-blow from the maniac that drink has infuriated, and many a wife finds relief in the grave from the bodily injuries and mental anguish inflicted by her husband. Many women whom we know have fled from such brutality, and by their industry provided for their helpless children; but only to be followed by the brutes they had left, who, after wasting all they possessed, under the plea that their wives' houses were their houses, demanded admittance and renewed their atrocities. And alas for woman's rights, there is no law to protect the innocent from such unblushing villany.

Nor is all the brutality upon one side of the house. On my way to worship one Sabbath morning, I came upon a woman beating a man most unmercifully with a potato beetle. There leaned the poor wretch against the wall, apparently quite unconscious of the injury he was receiving. On my saying, "Stop, stop; this is not work for a Sabbath morning;" "Stand aside, sir," said the incensed woman, while she uplifted the instrument of chastisement for another blow-. "Stand aside; is he no my lawfu' married man?" Aware of the risk of interfering with opposing powers, I judged it best to take her advice.

Besides this, the wrongs which intemperance has inflicted upon helpless children constitute one of its direst curses. Strip it of every evil attribute but this one; and on this ground alone we denounce it, and all the means by which it is upheld. Why should children awaken to a consciousness of being, amid misery? Why, even in the dwelling of a parent, should their young hearts be without a home? Other children have those who will enfold them in their arms and press them to their bosom-other children confidingly gather around the family hearth; but for them no bosom yearns, no warm hearts and affectionate looks invite. A mother's love is represented in Scripture as the most powerful instinct of the human bosom, but even this, whisky has quenched.

Several years ago, when ragged schools were rare, a friend of mine, on dismissing his senior Sabbath class, was accosted by a stranger lad, who asked to be permitted to become a

scholar. The youth was apparently about sixteen years of age, of diminutive size and plain features, and clad in humble, but scrupulously clean attire. On being informed that he was welcome to join the class, a tear glistened in his eye, and, with considerable confusion, he whispered, "But, sir, I canna read yet. I have just put myself to the schule; only if ye will bear wi' me for a wee while, I'll do what I can to please ye. But oh! I would like to come." The statement and the tone in which these words were spoken awakened surprise, and he was asked his name. The question seemed to excite deepest emotion, and he replied, "Sir, I dinna ken my ain name; my maister says it's John Shaw." "What! have you no parents, or friends, or home?" His answer was, "I have kenned little o' either in my lifetime. only thing I mind o' is when my mither sell't me to JD- " the sweep, for a half mutchkin o' whisky, and I hae never seen her since."

The

The truth of this extraordinary statement was soon certified in every particular. "One evening John waited on me," says my friend, "with a kindled countenance, and said, 'O sir, I have found my mother.' It appeared that she was a notorious drunkard, and vagrant beggar, and that she had on that day sought her boy, and demanded money. And what do you mean to do with her?' said I. 'I have come,' he replied, to ask your advice; but I think of taking a house for her and me, that we may have a home together.' He was reminded of the difficulties and dangers of such a step; of the likely want of peace and comfort in such a home; and of the impossibility of his supporting his mother's vicious appetites, or overcoming the restless habits of the vagrant. There was conscious pain mingled with impatience while he listened, until, as if no longer able to restrain himself, he started to his feet and exclaimed, 'I ken its a' ower true; but, sir, she is my ain mither in the sight of God. She maun be a trouble to somebody, and wha has a better right to bear the burden than her ain bairn?' And he would have done it; but a few days after, the poor lad fell from a roof of four storeys in height, and was killed on the spot. Hard even to the last was his lonely pillow, and there was none to smooth it; but he needed it not. His remains were borne to their last resting place, as

a mark of their respect, on the shoulders of his fellow-workmen; and, although no kindred were there, many a moistened eye, in men unused to weep, told that the foundling chimneysweep was missed and mourned when he left us. My thoughts had absorbed me," says my friend, "when a hand was suddenly laid on my arm, and I became conscious of the presence of a bronzed and haggard woman, in tattered garments, at my side, and a hoarse voice, that breathed strongly the mingled odour of tobacco and cheap whisky, uttered, in the whine of the beggar and the maudlin whimper of drunkenness, 'O sir, he was my ain laddie, and what's to come o' me!'" There it was, a heart in which whisky had quenched every affection but selfishness !

Nor are such atrocities perpetrated only in the homes of our working-men. Homes there are never visited by police officials in search of crime, or benevolent persons intent on doing good-where there are ruined means, broken hearts, careworn faces, blasted reputations, untold sorrows; and drink has done it. Secret drinking is by no means rare. Many unknown as drunkards, are nevertheless ruining themselves with drink. The instances in the middle and higher walks of life are numerous. Men and women, worshipping with you in the same sanctuary, living with you in the same street, meeting you daily in the ordinary intercourse of life, and regarded in the community as highly respectable persons, are drinking away health, and happiness, and means; and none but intimate friends know of it, till sudden death, unexpected removal to a country residence, or, it may be, confinement in a lunatic asylum, reveals the fact. Did delicacy permit, we could detail at length cases which have come under our own observation, and which prove that even within the pale of the church this fell destroyer is banishing from homes called Christian every vestige of human happiness. We could tell of the young man, but a few years married, reduced to beggary by the dissipation of his wife, robbed of his furniture, food, and Sabbath-day clothing; and at last obliged to carry off his famishing little ones, and leave their infatuated mother to bear the full burden of her self-imposed wretchedness. We could tell of the aged husband bemoaning his miserable condition, and with the tears of a

child exposing the dissipation of his wife, and declaring that, but for whisky, there would never have been a word between them, during the thirty-five years of their married lives. We could tell of the dying wife revealing for the first time the cruelties to which she had been subjected for years by her intemperate husband, and declaring that she could not even find a refuge from his barbarities where she might die in peace. We could tell of the wife and her children driven from their own door during a midnight storm, and afterwards preferring, in a life of separation, to labour for her own and her children's support, rather than return to a home which drink had converted into a scene of distraction and bitterness. We could tell of a husband reduced to poverty, and then excited to madness, and now the inmate of a lunatic asylum, through the brutal intemperance of his wife. We could tell of a wife, broken hearted by the dissipation of her husband, requesting the prayers of the church for herself and erring partner, who, after repeatedly wringing his hands, and cursing drink as the cause of all his wretchedness, perpetrated the deed which terminated his life. These are cases with which every minister of the gospel is conversant, and all these came under my own observation within the course of one short six months. Most gladly do I admit that the fact of having to deal with so many cases within a period so brief, is as remarkable to myself as it may appear to others; but who, acquainted with what drink is doing in our various Christian congregations, cannot point to many cases equally deplorable? Did ministers and medical men publish to the world the knowledge they have acquired of drink's doings, in the homes of the respectable and professedly religious, a revelation would be made which would proclaim moderate drinking the most deadly foe of domestic happiness. If, then, there be any power on earth that would shield our homes from an invader so ruthless, why should that power not be employed? Abstinence is more than a match for his boasted potency; and wherever it has come, the demon has fled. "We are like as if we were in a new world altogether," said a woman to me, whose husband had been for three years a member of the total abstinence society. Abstinence," said another," has converted a scene of cursing into a house

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of prayer." These are the testimonies of women, both members of my own congregation, whose hearts had been made glad by the reformation of their husbands. Well may women bless our movement. Who like them suffer from this evil! The heroes of history weave wreathes of fame around their bleeding brows; but who shall unfold the records of woman's martyrdom, traced in tears, but hidden in affection, which even drunken brutality has failed to extinguish? Is it then right that woman's influence should be against us?

CHAPTER III.

Social Debasement.

BUT we must take a more general survey, if we would form
an adequate conception of the magnitude of the evil with
which we are dealing. We have only to reflect upon the
instances of personal and domestic debasement with which
we are acquainted, the frequency with which we are offend-
ed with unblushing inebriety upon the public streets, the
numerous places where liquor is sold, the returns which an-
nounce the quantity consumed, the police reports which
narrate the cases of assault and wretchedness originating in
drinking, the rapid increase of crime and pauperism, the taxes
levied to support our criminal and pauper establishments,
to estimate the social debasement consequent upon drunken-
ness. The slightest observation in walking the streets of any
of our large towns, is sufficient to beget in a reflective and
benevolent mind the most painful feelings. There meet us
"Squalid forms,

Leaner than fleshless misery, that wastes
A sunless life in the unwholesome mines."

Listen to their speech-how low, coarse, and profane! Mark how the slightest provocation sets in play the most brutal and abominable passions. The consideration of a few points bearing upon this view of our subject may aid in forming