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he too often finds that the habit is formed, the charm commenced, and that the body will not obey the will. Then, unless the temptation is removed, or some friendly but strong hand interposes, he is almost certain to fall beneath the deadly fangs of this hydra monster.

"The path from right is not all bright,
But a downward, thorny road;

And the flashing wine, though it seem divine,
Will lead to the drunkard's abode."

But notwithstanding these are the effects of wine, how many are still indulging in its use! How many even boast of the quantity of wine they can drink at a time, forgetting the curse, "Wo unto them that are mighty to drink wine!" Alas, they forget that wine has plunged many a lofty mind into vice, that it has filled many an amiable heart with fiend-like malice, that it has robbed many an intelligent being of his reason, and that it has hurled from their thrones many rulers, and slain many kings and princes,-even Alexander, among the rest, who defied every other weapon. My

young friends, "Look not upon the wine when it is red, when it giveth his color in the cup, when it moveth itself aright. At the last it biteth like a serpent, and stingeth like an adder."

It is very important that the habit of total abstinence should be formed early; indeed, it cannot be too soon commenced. And therefore I look with pleasure upon the "Cold Water Army," as it is called, whose object is to enlist the young under the temperance banner. Within a few years, juvenile temperance societies have been formed in many parts of our land; and the number of youth who have already enlisted gives cheering evidence that the rising generation will be a temperate one. Their celebrations and processions, also, are seasons of great interest.

Young reader, are you a member of this Cold Water Army? If you are, persevere in your determination never to become a drunkard, and beware of breaking your pledge. But if you are not a member, then I advise you to become one as soon as possible. If there is no juvenile temperance

society in your town, then sign the following, or some other pledge: "I hereby pledge myself that I will never use as a beverage any kind of intoxicating liquor, and that I will endeavor to discountenance its use in others." Or, if your taste is for poetry, take the following:

"I pledge myself no more to taste

The sparkling wine, or drunkard's drink;
For these I know will only haste

My progress to destruction's brink.”

Sign one of these pledges, and keep it, and it is all that is necessary. How simple! How easy to avoid the drunkard's grave, if you only begin right! Keep the pledge, and you will be safe. Perhaps the wine cup will often be handed to you, but remember the example of Cyrus, the Persian, who, when he was cup-bearer to the king, refused to taste the wine, saying that there was poison in it. Remember this-" There is poison in it!" and shun it as you would any other poison. Then shall temperance pour its blessings into your lap, and you

will never know by experience the woes and sorrows of the drunkard.

"Then shall the star of temperance rise,
And gild with peaceful ways your skies;
Then its pure blessings you shall know,
And peace and plenty round you flow."

But what shall we say of those who deal in, and manufacture these deadly poisons? O, who would wish to bear their responsibility? Blind, hard-hearted, intent only upon gain, they pursue their sinful traffic as though there were no righteous God beholding them. Look at the distiller. His business is to manufacture ruin for the souls and bodies of men. His old distillery, like some heaving and throbbing volcano, pours forth a stream of liquid fire, which carries death and destruction wherever it goes. If the terrified pagans of old supposed their volcanoes to be the workshops of Vulcan, we may well call these artificial volcanoes the workshop of the devil. Several years ago, a story was published concerning a distillery in which was represented as being worked by fiends in the night time, who received Bibles for

their services! The following verse of poetry is from a parody on the same distillery.

"Then rocked the still, with riot riven;
Then worked the fiends, for Bibles given;
And louder than fresh bolts from heaven,
Loud groaned the old distillery."

Yes, these are the slaughter-houses where men are slain, and prepared for endless perdition. These are the workshops where misery is manufactured, and sent to every part of the land. O, what a curse are the distilleries! When shall our land be free from them!

Go now to the rumseller. He is the agent of the distiller, or rather of Satan. It is his unenviable business to allure the innocent, to set snares for souls. In the words of the Psalmist, "He sitteth in the lurking-places of the villages; in the secret places doth he murder the innocent; his eyes are privily set against the poor. He lieth in wait secretly, as a lion in his den; he lieth in wait to catch the poor: he doth catch the poor, when he draweth him into

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