4 98 WILLIAM ST, NEW YORK.) General Dime Book Publishers, No. 16. e = ¢ | WM | § < 2 & 7 o | A BEADLE AND ADAMS, '» MISS LIGHTHEAD IN THE COUNTRY.» A Country-boarder Bpisode. A NEW BOOK - Exhibitions ani Ho Home Entertainments ‘DIME DIALOGUES, No, 35, Just Published. “IN THE WRONG HOUSE; or, Tam Home Receprion. A Domestlé t oe in one'scene, For two males and two females. By H, Elliot cB oem SHAM OF IT ALL; or, Common Sense Tur Best Guipg. A Lesso? eet. 2, Or ee ‘females: and one male. By Dr. Louis Le | a, liyead SUREST PROOF; or, Toe Hows Turust. An Impressive Tem’ rance Tustration, In three scenes, an several males and one | emale. By ©. A ee CH FOR JONES AND SMITH. For ‘two males, By w. > ey. | NAUGHTY BOY BLUE, A Dress and Costume Piece. ‘For Mother Goose and several children, By Cousin Alice. _ ONLY A WORKING GIRL; or, SNospery THat Hap a Faun. A Minot ’ . Comedy in three scenes. For four females and two mi. les. By Mrs: - Eugene Schuyler. HOW. HE Gor EVEN WITH HIS ENEMY. A Sanetum Thundergush | : For two males. By Paul Forbes.’ , TRS. BIGSON’S VICTORY; or, Tue Best Way To Manrraw’ Aurnortry | A strong-minded Exemphification, For one male and one female By “Paul Forbes, A fHE MYSTERIOUS BOARDER; or Tae KuvHour Cormrre, x Board: Ree Pleasance. For three females and two males. By Alice \ . ictor. f eA THE MUGWUMP SISTERS; or, Tax Worst 1s rae Best. A Sewing | Circle Seance, Fora number of jemales. By Cyril Deane. 4 k DOLLY 3 MADISON'S METHOD; or, How UnPoysrer was ‘Dona For! ao 7 , in two scenes, For two males and one female. nae ; ‘ohn, a Southern District of New York. : CONTENTS. A altotbs ww, . Ho retailers, . War, war 1o tne nexm, . » Adjuration to duvy sna hunor, ” The crasuder’s appeal, A boy’s testimony, Thave drank my last glass, . The spirit-siren, Rum’s maniac, Life is what we make it, Taste not, Phe evil beast, The hardest lot of all, The curse of rum, . The two' dogs—a fable, € source of true reform, ‘the rum fiend, True law and false, In bad company, The only true nobility, ; ~ The inedriate’s end, A drunken soliloquy, The work to do, To labor is to pray, ‘ The successful Lays, Better than gold, 8eoa time and harvest, Thyocation to cold water, Now, The jr great lessou to leara; he toper’s lament, God’s liquor, Scie Value of life work, ~ Accept the situation,” Dicd of whisky,. ae. with a moral, ’ Dr. Charles Jewett, . Rev. Dr. C. H. Fowler, A. J. Spencer, spon a Capt. Sam. Whiting, From the ** School-boy,” Louis 8. Upham, Dr, Louis Legrand, . Dr. Nott, 3 kev. Orville ee 7. De Witt Pain Altered from Chas. Sprague, Lizzie J. Barlow, . . ftev. CU. H. Chapin, . . . . Joe Jot, Jr., ‘ Rev. Orville Dewey, Alf. Burnett, B. P. Foote, . Frances 8. Osgood, . A. F, Bridges, + B. Johnson, . Anon, . . Temperance Herald, Ann, « 4 e é Bob ee Andrews Norton, . |, Richmond Advocate, Breakers ahead, . Ichabod Sly, . ‘ ‘ Effects of intemperance, The whisky why is it, . Local vption, . : . Be good to the body, Worth makes the man, . . CONTENTS, Dr. Lyman Beecher, Helen J. Angell, . Beecher, Toe ’ Oe Cincinnati Saturday Sight, Horace Mann, Foon. SSERERS THE DIME YOUTHS SPEAKER. A CALL TO THE FIELD! “) £«Weée are the progenitors of the race that is to rule the } World. Out of our blood are to spring the men of the fuvare, » Who, by word and deed, shall give character to the civi.lza- ' tion of succeeding centuries. We thiak, and plan, and ex- _ Periment—we delve and build and improve—not for ourselves but for those to come after us. How great our mission, how grand our opportunities ! 4 How important that we do nothing which the future can > condemn ! How necessary that truth, justice and sound princij:le Bkould direct our conduct ! If all this be so, then what can we say of the traffic in liquor? } - Look around you! Everywhere are the evidences of the dread work of this demon of Alcohol! Our Almshouses, our Prisons—the heg- _ ary of our streets and the squalor of our tenement-houses— the printed annals of crime and the unwritten annals of un-~ happy homes—all bear their awful testimony against this destroyer of men, this curse of communities, this arch-enemy of civilization. L Why, oh men of to-day, do you hesitate to put your foot - ©n this demon? Why refrain from a work that is to give Peace and prosperity now, and greatness and glory to the future? Shall the miserable pretext of policy deter you from ~ speaking —shall the fear of a demagogue politician drive you into silence—shall the bludgeon of the rum-ryffan, or the - Wily tongue of the unprincipled liquor-dealer awe you into submission ? def No—no! a thousand times no/ We will assert our man- ~ hocd; we will carry forward a crusade against the Rum — THE DIME TEMPERANCE SPEAKER, fiend ; we will prepare this country to become the dwellings place vf a people worthy to lead the world to: the highes condition of earthly human happiness. Down—down with | the grog-shop—away with the right to sell liquor—outlawry © to the avaricious and utterly wicked distiller. Gird on yout | good armor of principle, your buckler of faith, your battle-ax 7 tight, and never cease the crusade until this monster of th $i, ws dead past all resurrection ! * TO RETAILERS !-—Dr. Charles Jewett. Ye who regardless of your country’s good, Fill up your coffers with the price of blood; Who pour out poison with a liberal hand, And scatter crime and misery through the land ; Though now rejoicing in the midst of health, In full possession of ill-gotten wealth ; Yet a few days at most, the hour must come, When you shall know the poison-seller’s doom, And shrink beneath it; for upon you all The indignation of a God shall fall, Tn vain ye strive witb hypocritic tongue To make mankind believe ye do no wrong ; Ye know the fruits of this accursed trade, Ye see the awful havoc it hath made, Ye pour out men their death and endless woe, And then assert, ye wish it were not so, But ’tis a truth, and that ye know full well, That some will drink as long as ye will sell. But should you cease from selling, ore and all The fetters would at once from thousands fall, And though they now are voluntary slaves, And rush with open eyes upon their graves, 'Twould grant a respite, give them time to think, - And when they, shuddering, viewed the awful brink From which they’d just escaped, they’d take more heed THE DIME TEMPERANCE SPEAKER, Reform their lives and bless you for the deed. But here the old excuse yet meets us still, “Tf I don’t sell the poison, others will.” Then let them sell, and you'll be ne’er the worgs They'll have the profits, and they’ll have the cuzea If some will still do wrong, ye should refuse, , The sins of others can not yours excuse. Is it in fact a privilege to sell What kills the body, dooms the soul to hell? Bear this in mind, ye have at your command The power to bless, or power to curse the land, Tf ye will sell, intemperance still will roll Her wave of bitterness o’er many a soul. Still will the wife for her lost husband mourn, And sigh for days that never shall return. Still the unwelcome sight our eyes shall greet, Of beggared children roaming thro’ the street, And thousands whom our labors can not save, Go trembling. tottering, to the grave. Still loitering at your shop the livelong day Will scores of loungers pass their hours away, And e’en the peaceful nights, for rest ordained, Will with their noisy revels be profaned ; The poisoned cup will pass, and mirth, and glee, Gild o’er the surface of their misery ; Uproarious laughter fill each space between Harsh oaths, ungodly songs and jests obscene; And then, ye’ll stand amid that drunken th~ong, Laugh at the jest, and glory in the song. How oft ye see the children of the poor, With unshod feet, unwitting throng your door And carry with them as they homeward go, That which must work deep misery and woe— That which will change the father to a beast— That which will rob a mother.of her rest, And take from half-fed children needful bread And give them curses, frowns and blows instead, Which tears from drooping age its shelter warm, And turns him houseless to. the wintry storm- All this you see, and seeing still procure THE DIME TEMPERANCE SPEAKER, To make you rich, and all around you poor. Pour out your poison till some victim dies, Then go and at his funeral wipe your eyes, Join then that mourning throng with solemn face, And help to bear him to his burial place. There stands his wife, with weeping children round. While their fust-falling tears bedew the ground. From many an eye the gem of pity starts, And many a sigh from sympathizing hearts Comes laboring up, and almost chokes the breath, While thus they gaze upon the work of death. The task concludes, the relics of the dead Are slowly settled to their damp, cold bed. Come now, draw near, my money-making friend, You saw the starting, come and see the end. When you first filled his glass, one would suffice, Next, two were wanting, and now here he lies. Look now into that open grave and say Dost feel no sorrow, no remorse to-day ? Does*not your answering conscience loua declare, That your cursed avariee has laid him there? Recall the virtues which he once possessed, How justly honored, and how richly blessed, With health uninjured, character unstained, While at his hearth domestic comfort reigned. Go, meet him there, a smiling wife you'd see And pratiling children climbing up his knee; His heart was cheerful and his conscience clear, And thus he journeyed on from year to year, Till ak! sad day, when first he chanced to drop Within the confines of yon slaughter-shop, You filled for him the intoxicating ‘glass, Loud cracked your jokes and bade the bumper pass, And while he thoughtless, poured the ruin down, You counted future crops from seed then sown. And you have reaped even all his earthly store, But death hath snatched him, and your harvesv’s o’ex Now, since earth has closed o’er his remains, Turn o’er your books and count your honest (?) gaing, . Hew doth the account for his last week begin? ‘ ? THE DIME TEMPERANCE SPEAKER, Monday, the twenty-fourth, one quart of gin, A like amount for each succeeding day Teils on the book, but wears his life away. Saturday’s charge makes out the account comp.ete, To cloth—five yards—to make a winding sheet. These all stand fair, without mistake or flaw, How honest (?) trade will thrive upheld by law. WAR, WAR TO THE DEATA.— Rev. Dr. 0. H. Fowler. All honor to the men who enacted the Prohibitory law, and let us show ourselves worthy of such representatives. 1 call upon you in the presence of this great criminal, the Ram King ; in full view of his malignant character; of the vile- ness that stamps the poison itself; of the frauds that are practiced in its manufacture; of deadly counterfeits that deepen its malignity ; of the insanity that makes its victims fuirly fly to ruin ; of the 1,000,000 wrecks that stagger and ooze, and leer and bloat, and fester and fall hellward ; of the 60,000 creatures that yearly fill drunkards’ graves on their way to the drunkard’s doom; of the 2,000,000 children that are “left worse than orphans, cursed with an inheritance of Tags : and shame; of the 3,000,000 of women who have millstones ™ tied about their necks and are thus cast into the social sea; of tbe 200,000 broken-hearted ones that yearly march to the ~ noor-house ; of the 200,000 convicts, that are annually sent ta atl; of the 200,000 orphans annually bequeathed to publig- arity ; of the 450 suicides that are annually caused by 40/9 evi. spirit; of the 1,700 murders that horrify the year: of — the 1,850 rapes that are committed by this demon; of tie ~ 12,000 lunatics that are made by this demon ; of the great com. — pany of idiots that are spawned by this monster; of the mil ions of homes ruined and all the homes threatened by this invader; of the public schools robbed of 2,000,000 of children ; _ of seven-dighths of all the crimes committed by this evil in spirativn, and of the enormous sum of $2,407,491,866 anxually ; y . ee ‘THE DIME TEMPERANCE SPEAKER, taken from the puvlic comfort and expended in wretchedness and crime—in the presence of all these fearful facts, I call upon you in ibis day of probation, by the absolute need for prompt action, by the utter failure of indecision, by the worse than failure of mild substitutes, and by the right of self-pres- ervation ; I call upon you in the name of the helpless vie. tims who are bound in this fearful habit—in the name o. ae weary and watching mothers whose sons are imperiled— io the name of some young men here to-night (or to-day) wha _ may yet wreck all beauty for time and all hope for eternity—- in the name of some fair and hopeful maidens here who may _ yet mourn and pine in the squalor and misery of the drunk- ard’s hovel—in the name of earth, desolated, hell-kindled, and _heaven-forfeited by this crime of drunkenness, and in the ‘name of Almighty God, whose eye is upon us, and at whose judgment bar we must sbortly stand—I call upon you to maintain and enforce every law, every ordinance, every re- striction, every hindrance against this traffic in liquor, at all costs. Out of these awful responsibilities we cry from our _ hearts forever and forever, “ Everlasting war against rum, and eternal death to alcohol!” ADJURATION TO DUTY AND HONOR.—A. J. Spencer. Go forth, defenders of your country, accompanied witb ‘every auspicious omen ; advance with alacrity into the fiela ‘where God himself musters the hosts to war. Religion is to. ‘ech interested in your success not to lend you her aid. - Bbe will shed over your enterprise her selectest influence. While you are engaged in the field, many will repair to the closet, many to the sanctuary; the faithful of every name will employ that prayer which has power with Gou; the fee “tle hands which are unequal to any other weapon, will grasp the sword of the Spirit; and, from myriads of bumble, con- trite hearts, the voice of intercession, supplication, and weep: I'HE DIME TEMPERANCE SPEAKER. ing, will mingle, in its ascent to heaven, with the shouts ol battle and shock of arms. While you have every thing to fear from the success of _ the enemy, you have every means of preventing that success ; »80 that it is next to impossible for victory not to crown your exertions. The extent of your resources, under God, is equal to the justice of your cause. But, should Providence deter- nine otherwise,—should you fall in this struggle, sbould the ation fall,—you will have thesatisfaction (the purest allotted } “to man) of having performed your part; your names will be enrolled with the most illustrious dead, while posterity, to the end of time, as often as they revolve the events of this ‘period (and they will incessantly revolve them), will turn to you a reverential eye, while they mourn over the freedom Whivh is entombed in your sepulcher. I can not but imagine the virtuous heroes, legislators, and ’ Ppatiiots, of every age and country, are bending from their elevated sents to witness this contest, as if they were incapa- blu, till it be brought to a favorable issue, of enjoying their — eternal repose. Enjoy that repose, illustrious immortais! Your mantle fell when you ascended; and thousands, in- flamed with your spirit, and impatient to tread in your steps, are ready to swear, by Him that sitteth on tie throne, und liveth forever and ever, that they will protect freedom in her _ last asylum, and never desert her cause, which you sustained — by your labors, and cemented with your blood! All this the eloquent Robert Hull addressed to his country- Wen who were about to enter the ranks as soldiers ta repel a threatened invasion of English soil. How it applies to you, ch American citizens! yuu are the soldiers called to resist tn invasion that threatens not only your land but your bomeg aso—to blight curse ruin, in every advance it makes. You ale the sole hope of the republic. On your intelligence, hon- sty, and courage devolve our present happiness and pros perity and our coming progress. Tbe enemy is everywhere among you already. His victims are around you on all sides, You see his baleful work in almost every pauper’s face, in/ every beggar’s child, in every court-room and prison, in every almshouse and infirmary, in the hospital and on the streets, _ Stalking abroad by day, lurking around by night; and thexe— _ © 9 ery through all the laud, “ He ta here—save us |” : THE DIME TEMPERANCE SPEAKER Who is this enemy ? It is the Rum Fiend!—the Rum Fiend, with his coborté 7 marshaled in battle array. His Generals are Distillers; his) coloneis. are Liquor-Dealers; his captains are Grog-shop* | keepers ; his lieutenants are bar-keepers, and his army are thé drinkers. And what an army! ‘The murderer stands side by side with the gentleman’ Pe son, The loafé. and bummer elbow the genteel tippler. Tb vot hob-nobs with the moderate drinker. The denizen of the thieves’ quarter smiles on the men from the mansion; purple and gold—silver and lace—tatterdemalion and vaga- bonds-——crime, misery, want, all stand abreast, enlisted in @ — common cause, bearing banners whose uniform device is 4 | bottle underscribed with the words: Death to all Prohibition ! Against this army, one million strong, you, oh Americal | ~ men and women! are called to serve. Are you ready? Thé 2 crisis has come : he or she who shrinks is for the Rum Fiend ;_ who cries “ Down with the Fiemd !” is for God and the Rigbt 7 THE “RUSADER’S APPEAL.—Capt. Sam. Whiting. “Stand back | in God’s name, men, stand back, You’ve labored in this cause in vain ; Now let the women take the track, They feel the curse—its bitter pain. “This mother standing by my side, Has seen her darling boy go down, Whelmed ’neath the soul-destroying tide, Which sweeps the city and the town. “This mourning wife, whose-eyes are dim With tears for her late cherished one, Who would have died to rescue him— By such, let this great work be done. # THE DIME TAMPERANCE SPEAKER, “This daughter knew a father’s love, But rum has quenched the sacred fire; She pleads to you and God above, To save her now besotted sire. “ And see this anguished sister’s tears, Who mourns a drinking brother’s fate, Companion of ber childhood’s years— Oh! save him ere it be too late. “Oh! dealers in this cursed drink, Hear each despairing mourner’s cry. Your feet are standing on the brink Of graves, where you must shortly lie, “Rash man! forsake thy cursed trade, Or ponder what will be thy doom, After the shipwreck thou hast made, In that far land beyond the tomb. “ Alas! for thee—alas! for thee, Tf God in his most awful plan, Deal out his woes with hand as free, As thou hast dealt thine out to man.” A BOY’S TESTIMONY.—From “ The Sechool-boy * We are all creatures of habit. This is one of the grand yrinciplea by which our lives are regulated. Then how care — fal should we be to refrain from the cultivation of any unt soly, unprincipled or even disagreeable habit that would be. calculated to make our lives less useful and pleasant to those — around us and ourselves more unhappy. Be strong and immovable in your defense of the glorious — fause you have espoused ; try to wreathe for yourselves fade- less garlands of victory in your contest with the most hateful — of all vices. Be untiring and vigilaut in your efforts to win — your fellow-beings from the unholy habit of sipping from the THE DIME THMPERANCE SPEAKER. pois¢nous cup. Let our light be so reflected that cthers see ing our good works may be constrained to go with us, and ‘thus we may gather in many wanderers upon this desert, moral waste. Let link continue to be added to link, urtil the mighty chain shall encircle the globe—a golden chain that willing captives bind. God has made this world to be the dwelling-place e! yriads of happy creatures. Our cause is not a selfish ong 's members seek to encircle all who will come within its Widening walls with a mild, beneficent, happifying influence. And who has not neighbors and friends—near and dear friends, that are not writhing and sinking down under the influence of this demoralizing vice, which blights the verdant glow of youth, strips manhood of its glory and old age of its crown? It robs the soul of hope, of happiness and peace Gloom reigns without and within, where the pure light of heaven might shine with radiant beams. * Shall we whose souls are lighted With this wisdom from on high~ Shall we to those benighted This lamp of light deny ?” Who loves not the fond endearments of home, where loy- ing parents, brothers and sisters dwell and commune to- gether? Who does not love liberty and would not ery, “sive me liberty or give me death?” But here an inhuman and unreasonable tylant is reigning almost without control; robbing our fellow-byings of life and liberty; invading our land and country, and making otherwise happy and pleasant homes desolate with his devastating want; extinguishing the fen lamp of love, or causing it to give forth but a feeble ght. Let us, as a band of brothers and sisters of the temperance Cause, be strong and firm in doing our duty, and prudent in suggesting the best means to accomplish the end we have in view, with fortitude to bear up under all the difficulties which - way spring up in our pathway. “No dew-drop glitters in the drunkard’s cup, But a Bohon Upas there doth roll,” Which deetroys the body, the mind, the soul. THE DIME TEMPERANCE SPEAKER, Be VA state of happiness must be a state of temperance, and hap: /Piness is what all are seeking after. : _ Tet our organization be one in the true spirit of Love, Purity and Fidelity, and at last may we be safely housed in he temperance halls of heaven, where we shall be sons and aughters of God, our Father, the Author of all that is good } %nd true, and pure in earth and heaven. | -No, comrades, I thank you, not any for me; My last chain is riven, henceforward I’m free. TI will go to my home and my children to-night, With no fumes of liquor their spirits to blight, And with tears in my eyes I will beg my poor wife, _ To forgive me the wreck I have made of her life! TI never have refused you before! Let that pass, For I've drank my last glass, boys, I have drank my last glass. Just look at me now, boys, in rags and disgrace, : With my bleared, haggard eyes, and my red, bloated face! ~ Mark my faltering step and my weak, palsied hand, } And the mark on my brow that is worse than Cain’s brand; See my crownless old hat, and my elbows and knees, Alike warmed by the sun, or chilled by the breeze; Why, even the children will hoot as I pass— But I’ve drank my last glass, boys, I have drank my last glass! You would hardly believe, boys, to look at me now, _ That a mother’s soft hand was once pressed on my brow, - When she kissed me and blessed me, her darling, her pride, Ere she Jay down to rest by my dead father’s side; But with love in her eyes she looked up to the sky, Bi ding me meet her there, and whispered, ‘‘ Good-by.” THE DIME TEMPERANCE SPHAKEHR. And [’ll do it, God helping! Your smile Ill let pass, For I've drank my last glass, boys, I have drank my last glass ! Ah T reeled bome last night—it was not very late, For I'd spent my last sixpence, and landlords won’t waif On a fellow who's left every cent in their till, And has pawned his last bed, their coffers to fill; Oh! the torments I felt, and the pangs I endured ; And I begged for one glass—just one would have cured But they kicked me out dovrs—I’ll let that too pass, For P’ve drank my last glass, boys, Ihave drank my last glass ! At home, my pet Susie, with her soft golden hair, I saw through the window, just kneeling in prayer ; From her pale, bony hands, her torn sleeves were slung dows! | 3 While her feet, could and bare, shrunk beneath her acant | gown ; And she prayed—prayed for bread, just a poor crust of bread, For one crust—on her knees, my pet darling plead And I heard, with no penny to buy one, alas! But [ve drank my last glass. boys, I have drank my last glass! For Susie, my darling, my wee six year old, Though fainting with hunger and shivering with cold, There on the bare floor, asked God to bless me: And she said, “ Don’t cry, mamma! He will for you see, ‘I believe what I ask for!’ Then sobered I crept Away from the house, and that night, when I slept, Next my heart lay the pledge! You smile—let it pass, But I’ve drank my last glass, boys, I have drank my last glass | My darling child saved me! Her faith and her love Are akin to my dear sainted mother’s above! I will make her words true, or Pll die in the race, And sober I'll go to my last resting-place, THE DIME TEMPERANCE SPEAKER, And she shall kneel there, and weeping, thank God No drunkard lies under that daisy-strewn sod ! Not a drop more of poison my lips shall e’er pass, For I’ve drank my last glass, boys, I’ve drank my last glass! THE SPIRIT-SIREN.—Dr. Louis Legrand. The noble Lord Elgin, thus beautifully characterized the relations of Great Britan to this country: , 7 When you bave satisfied your gaze ‘by contemplating the | — magnificent scerje spread out before you; when, with the aid of the telescope, you have scanned those mighty ‘prairies which the plowshare has not yet broken; when you have cast - your eye upon those boundless forests which the ax has not yet touched; when you have traveled over those extensive territories which are underlain by valuable mineral fields which the cupidity of man has not yet rifled; when you have © gazed upon all these to your heart’s content, just lay your telescwpe aside, and take this little microscope from me, and I will show you a little island, far hidden behind that East- ern wave; an island so diminutive that you might take it up Dadily, and toss it into the lakes which lie between the Can- adas and the United States, without filling them up; but ¢ which, nevertheless, was the source whence came forth the valor and the might which laid on this continent the foundw Yon cf empires. As the little kingdom of Great Britain is the source of such mighty power, so is the power of the crystal goblet which - Contains the subtle spirit of wine. It is a beautiful spirit; it ‘glistens and glows and allures; it enraptures, it captivates, it favishes ; it enthuses, exalts, transports; but oh, it is the spirit of evil. Its beauty is to allure; its allurements are to take saptive the unwary soul; it exalts to madden; and the trail- of death is over it all. Not of physical death. The serpent Which charnis the fluttering bird. breaks the charm by crusly THE DIME TEMPERANCE SPEAKER. ing its victim into sudden destruction ; but the spirit or Wine loves nol the quick death of the body. It demands slow tor- ture; it wrecks the whole moral nature first, that its victim may the more fully perform the Devil’s work; it eats up the body by slow degrees, making it loathsome to human eyes and a terror to its kind; it frenzies until the hand is steeped fa crime, and the victim is hurled to a doom that disgraces wis name and breaks the hearts of all whose hearthstone } das darkened—whose lives he has blighted—whose prospect ‘ te has ruined. This is the mission of Wine. It is a little spirit, but it * mighty in its power. It does not fill a cup, yet can startle : nation; it is but afew drops as compared with the dew’ which a bountious Creator sheds over all the earth, for man’s sustenance, but each drop, like the quicksilver which pene trates even the rocks of the earth, touches the very springs of » human existence, and poisons the very sources of our civilé ' Zation. Oh, ye who look upon this spirit with enchanted eyes— -beware—beware! It is the siren sent to charm you to de- struction ; it is subtle agent of Satan to ruin and destroy; -it As death, moral and physical. Touch not, taste not, handle not, as you value your health, your.name, your home, your honor your life, your soul! RUM’S MANIAC.—Dr. Nott. Why am I thus? the maniac cried, Confined ’mid crazy people? Why ? I am not mad—knave, stand aside ! Til have my freedom, or I’!i die; It’s not for cure that here I’ve come; I tell thee, all I want is ram— I must have rum! THE DIMK TEMPRRANCE SPEAKER. Sane? yes, and have been all the while; Why, then, tormented thus? ’Tis sad; Why chained, and held in duress vile? The men who brought. me here were mad ; I will not stay where specters come ; : Let me go home; I must have rum— I must have rum! ‘Tis he! ’tis he! my aged sire! What has disturbed thee in thy grave? Why bend on me that eye of fire? Why torment, since thou canst not save ? Back to the churchyard whence you've come) Return, return! but send me ram— Oh, send me rum! Why is my mother musing there, On that same consecrated spot, Where.once she taught me words of prayer? But now she hears—she heeds me not, Mute in her winding-sheet she stands ; Gold, cold, I feel her icy hands— Her icy hands ! She’s vanished ; but a dearer friend, I know her by her angel smile, Has come her partner to attend, His hours of misery to beguile; Haste! haste! loved one, and set me free; "T'were heaven to ’scape from hence to thee. From hence to thee, She does not hear; away she flies, Regardless of the chain I wear, Back to her mansion. in the skies, To dwell with kindred spirits there. Why has she gone? Wi did she come Oh God, I'm ruined! Give me ram! Oh, give me rum! THE DIME TEMPERANCE SPEAKER. Hark ! hark! for bread my children cry, A cry that drinks my spirits up; But ’tis in vain, in vain to try; Oh, give me back the drunkard’s cup ! My lips are parched, my heart is sad ; This cursed chain—'twill make me mad ' Twill make me mad It won’t wash out, that crimson stain! I’ve scoured those spots, aud made them white Blood reappears again, again, . Soon as the morning brings the light! When from my sleepless couch I come, To see—to feel—oh, give me rum / I must have rum! ’Twas there I heard his piteou’ sry, And saw his last imploring look, But steeled my heart and bade him die, And from him golden treasures took ; Accursed treasure! stinted sum ! Reward of guilt! Give, give me rum Oh, give me rum! Hark ! still I hear that piteous wail ; Before my eyes his specter stands ; And when it frowns on me I quail! Oh, I would fly to other lands, But that, pursuing, there ’twould come, There’s no escape! Oh, give me rum— Oh, give me rum! Guard, guard those windows! bar that door] Yonder I armed bandits see! They’ve robbed my house of all its store, And now return to murder me; They’re breaking in! don’t let them come! Drive, drive them hence! but give me rum} Oh, give me rum} THE DIME TEMPERANCE SPEAKER. I stake again? NotI; no more; Heartless, accursed gamester, no! I staked with thee my all before, And from thy den a beggar go! Go where? A suicide, to hell! And leave my orphan children here, In rags and wretchedness to dwell, A doom their father can not bear Will no one pity ? no one come? Not thon; ob, come not, man of prayer! Shut that dread volume in thy hand; For me, damnation’s written there— No drunkard can in judgment stand! Talk not of pardon there revealed ; No, not to me, it is too late; My sentence is already sealed ; Tears never blot the book of fate; Too late, too late these tidings come ; There is no hope! Oh, give me rum! I must have rum | See how that rug those reptiles soil They’re crawling o’er me in my bed; I fee) their clammy, snaky coil On every limb—around my head ; With forked tongue I see them play ; I hear them hiss—tear them away ! Tear them away ! A fiend! a fiend! with many a dart, Glares on me with his blood-shot eye And aims his missiles at my heart— Oh, whither, whither shall I fly? Fly ? no, it is no time for flight! Fiend! I know thy hellish purpose well $ Avaunt, avaunt, thou hated sprite, And hie thee to thy native hell! JHE DIME TEMPERANCE SPEAKER. He’s gone! he’s gone! and I am free ; He’s gone, the faithless, braggart liar, He said he’d come to summon me— See there again, my bed’s on fire! Fire! water! help! oh, haste, I die! The flames are kindling round my head ! This smoke—I’m strangling—can not fly t Oh, snatch me from this burning bed! There, there, again! that demon’s there, Crouching to make a fresh attack ; See how his flaming eye-balls glare ! Thou fiend of fiends, what’s brought thee vack 4 Back in thy car? for whom? for where ? He smiles, he beckous me to come ; What are those words thou’st written there? ““Tn hell they never want for rum !” Not want for rum? Read that again! I feel the spell! haste, drive me down Where rum is free, where revelers reign, And I can wear the drunkard’s crown Accept thy proffer, fiend? I will, And to thy drunken banquet come; Fill the great cauldron from thy still With boiling, burning, fiery rum ; There will I quench this horrid thirst, With bo# companions drink and dwell Nor plead for rum, as here I must— There’s liberly to drink in hell! Thus raved the maniac rum had made ; Then starting from his haunted bed, On, on! ye demons, on! he said, Then silent sunk—hbis soul had fled ! Scoffer, beware! he in that shroud, Was once 4 temperate drinker, too? THE DIME TEMPERANCE SPHAKER,. FUFE IS WHAT WE MAKE IT.—Reo. Oreille Dewey. = ‘*Unto the pure, are all things pure.” Life is what we make it. To some this may appear to be Very singular, if not extravagant statement. You look upon 8 life and upon this world, and you derive from them, it “ty be, a very different impression. You see the earth, per- APs, only as a collection of blind, obdurate, inexorable ele tts and powers. You look upon the mountains that sten{ § forever; you look upon the seas that roll upon every te their ceaseless tides; you walk through the annual “nd of the seasons; all things seem to be fixed, summer ‘nd Winter, seed-time and harvest, growth and decay ; and so 7 *Y are. But does not the mind spread its own hue over all these ~ es? Does not the cheerful man make a cheerful world ? 48 not the sorrowing man make a gloomy world? Does Pt every mind make its own world? Does it not, as if in- }4 a portion of the Divinity were imparted to it, almost , “ the scene around it? Its power, in fact, scarcely falls ~tt of the theories of those philosophers who have sup- ; Sed that the world had no existence at all, but in our own “nds, : a Sa again with regard to human life; it seems to many, Pobably, unconscious as they are of the mental and moral },, “ers which control it, as if it were made up of fixed condi- Aes and of immense and impassable distinctions. But upon },, °Onditions presses down one impartial law. To all situa. §, > to all fortunes, high or low, the mind gives their charac ot They are in effect, not what they are in themselves, but | “tt they are to the feelings of their possessors. J, the king upon his throne and amidst his court, may be ; ‘n, degraded, miserable man; a slave to ambition, to ve: i Pwousness, to fear, to every low passion. The peasant in Cottage may be the real monarch—the moral master of -. fate—the free and lofty being, more than a prince in hap- Hess, more than a kingin honor. And shall the mere nameg ‘ch these men bear blind us to the actual position which Y occupy amidst God’s creation? No: beneath the all- 'erful law of the heart, the master is often the slave, and ‘Slave is the master. THR DIME TEMPERANCE SPEAKER. It is the same creation, upon which the eye of the che ful and the melancho'y man are fixed; yet how different 4 the aspects which it bears to them! To the one it is beauty and gladness; “the waves of ocean roll in light, ali the mountains are covered with day.” It seems to him a8 finn life went forth rejoicing npon every bright wave, and ev@ shining bough shaken in the breeze. It seeme as if th@h were more than the eye seeth; a presence of deep joy amol the hills and the valleys, and upon the bright waters. But the gloomy man, stricken and sad at heart, standg id) or mournfully gazing at the same scene, and what is him? The very light— ‘Bright effluence of bright essence imcarnate ”— F yes, the very light seems to him as a leaden pall thrown 0% the face of nature. All things wear to his eyes a dull, @ and sickly aspect. The great train of the season is pass} before him, but he sighs and turus away, as if it were the tr} of a funeral procession; and he wonders within himself} the poetic representations and sentimental rhapsodies that 9 lavished upon a world so utterly miserable. Here, then, are two different. worlds, in which these 4 1 classes of beings live; and they are formed and made Wi}, they are, out of the very same scene, only by different sia of mind in the beholders, The eye maketh that which} looks upon, The ear maketh its own melodies or disco!) R The world without reflects the world withia E Every disposition and behavior bas a kind of magneti¢ 4 taaction, by which it draws to itself, its like. Selfishness 9 iy hardly be a center round which the benevolent affections WJ revolve; the cold-hearted may expect to be treated with ool I g ‘ness, and the proud with haughtiness; the passionate tnger, and the violent with rudeness; those who forget rights of others, must not be surprised if their own are gotten ; and those who forget their dignity, who stoop to © lowest embraces of sense, must not wonder if others are # concerned to find their prostrate honor, and to lift it up” the remembrance and respect of the w oa: To the gentle, how many will be gentle; to the kind, go many will be kind! How many does a lovely example to goodness! How many does meekness subdue to 4 THE DIME TEMPERANCE SPEAKER, 29 per wher they come into its presence! How many does NCtity purify! How many does it compel to put away all thly defilements, when they step into its presence! Yes, a d-man will find that there is goodness in the world; an Mest man will find that there is honesty ; a man of principle Ml find a principle of religious integrity in the hearts of Mhers, ' There are no blessings which the mind may not convei to the bitterest of evils; and there are no trials which i sty not. transform into the most noble and divine of bless- "gs, There are no temptations from which the virtue they il may not gain strength, instead of falling a sacisfice to TASTE NOT. _ Drunk! Young man, did you ever stop to think how ter 7 dle that word sounds? Did you ever think what misery you ha Usht upon your friends when you degraded your manhood 9 getting drunk? Drunk! How the word rings in the ear fe How it makes the heart of a mother bleed. How it crushes the hopes of a father, and brings shame and | j, toach upon sisters. Drunk! See him as he leans against a "€ corner of some friendly house. He stands ready to fall 10 the jaws of hell, unconscious as to his approaching fate The wife, with aching heart, sits at the window to hear her Nsband's footsteps—but they come not. He is drunk! H Spending the means of support for liquor while his famil Starving fur bread, his children for clothing. Drunk! Hi *Ditation is going, gone! His friends, one by one, are leay- Diz: (9 his fate. He goes down to his grave “ unhonored ULbwer THE DIME TEMPERANCE SPEAKER. THE EVIL BEAST.*—Z. De Witt Talmage. Josern’s brethren dipped their brother’s coat in go blood, and then brought the dabbled garment to their fathia cheating him with the idea that a ferocious animal had sli him, and thus hiding their infamous behavior. ‘ But there is no deception about that which we hold up! your observation to-night (or to-day.) A monster such [| Bever ranged African thicket or Hindostan jungle hath track! this land, and with bloody maw hath strewn the contin@y with the mangled carcasses of whole generations; and tha! are tens of thousands of fathers and mothers who could bop’ up the garment of their slain boy, truthfully exclaiming: “7 is my son’s coat; an evil beast hath devoured him.” There has, in all ages and climes, been a tendency to improper use of stimulants. Noah, as if disgusted with prevalence of water in his time, took to strong drink. 4! this vice, Alexander the Conqueror was conquered. The # . mans at their feasts fell off their seats with intoxicatiOD Four hundred millions of our race are opium-eaters, Ind! Turkey, and China have groaned with the desolation ; a by it have been quenched such lights as Halley and ) Quincey. One hundred millions are the victims of the bel) nut, which has specially blasted the East Indies. TLE hundred millions chew bashish, and Persia, Brazil, and Afmy4 suffer the delirium. The Tartars employ murowa; the Me ; icans, the agave; the people at Guarapo, an intoxicatl! quality taken from sugar-cane; while a great multitude, ro man can number, are disciples of alcohol. To it they DO Under it they are trampled. In its trenches they fall. ‘ts ghastly holocaust they burn. Could the muster-roll of this great army be culled, hey could come up from the dead, what eye could endure ™ .ceking, festering putrefaction and beastliness? What he could endure the groan of agony ? Drunkenness: Does it not jingle the burglar’s key? D# it not whet the assassin’s knife? Does it not cock the bi *This tremendous anathema from, the great Brooklyn Taberd preacher we are permit tu quote from Mr. Talmage’s “ Apominat! of Modern Society,” published by Adams, Victor & Co., New York. break the speech up in sections—each of which will answer fora st Be ercise. Where the speaker can commit several of the extracts ip WU force to the impression, , ; THE DIME TEMPHRANCE SPWAKER. 3). Waymuan’s pistol? Does it not wave the ineendiary’s torch? Alas it wot sent the physician reeling into the sick-room; ®nd the minister with his tongue thick into the pylpit? Did Wot an exquisite poet, from the very top of his fame, fall a Bibbering sot, into the gutter, on his way to be married to one }°f the fairest daughters of New England, and at the very hour the bride was decking herself for the altar; and did he not f ie of delirium tremens, almost unattended, in a hospital ? ing Tamerlane asked for one hundred and sixty thusand skulls @ th which to build a pyramid to his ownhonor. We got the *Kulls, and built the pyramid. But if the bones of all those ; ho have fallen as a prey to dissipation could be piied up, it | ‘ould make a vaster pyramid. 4 Who will gird himself for the journey, and try with me to “ale this mountain of the dead—going up miles high on hu- Wan carcases, to find still other peaks far’ above, mountain ove mountain, white with the bleached bones of drunkards ? TOO MUCH LAW. | The Sabbath has been sacrificed to the ram traffic. To hy of our people, the best day of the week is the worst. €rs must keep their shops closed on the Sabbath. It is Ngerous to have loaves of bread going out on Sunday. The € store is closed; severe penalty will attack the man who Ms boots on the Sabbath. But down with the window- Utters of the grog-shops! Our laws shall confer particular dor upon the rum-traffickers. All other trades must stand | de for these. Let our citizens who have disgraced them- }) Yes by trading in clothing, and hosiery, and hardware, and Mber, and coal, take off their hats to the rum-seller, elected Particular honor. It is unsafe for any other class of men he allowed license for Sunday work. But swing out your 60s, oh ye traffickers in the peace of families, and in the “ls of in:mortal men! Let the corks fly, and the beer foam, Md the ram go tearing down the half-consumed throat of the Bbriate. God docs not see! Does He? Judgment will rer come! Will it? : €ople say, ‘Let us have more law to correct this evil.” ave more law now than we can execute. In what city 82 t THE DIME TEMPERANCE SPEAKER. is there a mayorally that dare do it? The fact is, that there is no advantage in having the law higher than public opinion. What would be the use of the Maine Law in New York? Neal Dow, the Mayor of Portland, came out with 3° possélp and threw the rum of the city into the street. But I do nol believe there are three mayors in the United States with hi courage or nobility of spirit. E I do not know but that God is determined to “et drunker ess triumph, and the husbands and sons of thousands of ouff yest families be destroyed by this vice, in order that oulfy people, amazed and indignant, may rise up and demand 1b extermination of this municipal crime. There isa way Of, driving down the hoops of a barrel so tight that they break. jj NO “REGULATION ” POSSIBLE. evil by a tax on whisky. You might as well try to regula the Asiatic cholera, or the small-pox, by taxation. The mé@p who distill liquors are, for the most part, unscrupulous; ab4y the higher the tax, the more inducement to illicit distillatio’)] New York produces forty thousand gallons of whisky evel] twenty-four hours; and the most of it escapes the tax. ‘TDM most vigilant officials fail to discover the cellars, and vaul and sheds where this work is done. tariffs! If every gallon of whisky made, if every flask wine produced, should be taxed a thousand dollars, it woul ‘not be enough to pay for the tears it has wrung out of eyes of widows and orphans, nor for the blood it has dus! mm the altars of the Christian Church, nor for the catastrop *f the millions it has destroyed forever. Qh we are a Christian people! ‘From Boston a ship sailé for Africa, with three missionaries and twenty-two thou gallons of New England rum on board. Which will have most effect: the missionaries, or the rum ? RUM EVERYWHERE, Rum is victor. Some time when you have leisure, jué 88 Here they are—first-class hotels. Marble floors, Fine pictures hanging over the decanters, Silver water-coolers, Pictured punch-bowls, Customers pull off their gloves, and ke up the glasses and click them, anc with immaculate Pocket-handkerchief wipe their mouth, and go up-stairs, ot to the reading-room, and complete extensive bargains. Here it is—the restaurant. All sorts of viands, but chiefly Styles of beverage. They who frequent this place have | {tly started on the down-grade. Having drunk once, they }Unge at the corner of the bar until a friend comes up, and phen the beverage is repeated. After a while, they sit at the (ttle table by the wall and order a rarer wine; for they feel Mcher now, and able to get almost any thing. Toward bed- @ they. take out their watch and say they must go home. ey start, but can not stand straight, With a gentleman at N arm, they start up the street. More and more overcome, the man begins to whoop, and shout and swear, and refuse g0 any further. Hat falls off. Hair gets over his eyes, per dell of fine bouse rings. Wife comes down the stairs. wi, Ughters look over the banisters, Sobbing in the dark hall. ick—shut the front door, for I do not want to look in. God P them | €1e if, is—a wine-cellar. Going into the door are depraved ‘ 1 and lost women. Some stagger. All blaspheme, Men h rings in their ears instead of their nose; and blotches of ast-pin. Pictures on the wall cut out of the Police Gazette. Slush of beer on floor and counter. A pistol falls out of a “1 4 Man's pocket. By the gas-lighta knife flashes. Low songs, | “ey banter, and jeer, and howl, and vomit. An awful goal, Which hundreds of people better than you have come. >, All these different styles of drinking-places are multiplying, €y smite a young man’s vision at every turn. They pour . Stench. of their abomination on every wave of air. TWO HOUSES. Sketch two houses in this street. The first is bright as Me can be. The father comes at nightfall, and the chil JHE DIME TEMPERANCE SPEAKER. dren run out to meet him. Luxuriant evening meal, gratala] lion, and sympathy, and laughter. Music in the parlor, fin6 pictures on the wall. Costly books on the stand, Well clad household. Plenty of every thing to make hcméy happy. f House the second: Piano sold yesterday by the sheriflf Wife's furs at pawnbroker’s shop. Clock gone. Daughter J fewelry soid to get flour. Carpets gone off the floor, Daug | ‘srs in faded and patched dresses. Wife sewing for the store | Little child with an ugly wound on her face, struck in aly angry blow. Deep shadow of wretchedness falling in ever) room Door-bell rings. Little children. hide. Daughtefil, turn pale. Wife holds her breath. Blundering step in th hall. Door opens. Fiend, brandishing his fist, cries, “ Qut!} ' eut! What are you doing bere ?” : Did I call this house the second? No; it is the same house. Rum transformed it. Rum embruted the man. Ruf sold the shawl. Rum tore up the carpets. Rum shook iff) fist. Rum desolated the hearth. Rum changed that paradi into a hell. | I sketch two men that you know very well. The firs! graduated from one of our literary institutions. His fathelp mother, brothers and sisters were present to see him gradual They heard the applauding thunders that greeted his speech They saw the bouquets tossed to his feet. They saw the dey gree conferred and the diploma given. He never looked well. Everybody said, “ What a noble brow! What a fil eye! What graceful manners! What brilliant prospects! All the world opens’ before him, and cries, “ Hurrah, liuf tab |” } Man the second. Lies in the station-house to-night. TH foctor has just been sent for to bind up the gashes receive |) wma fight. His lair is matted, and makes him look like wild beast. His lip is bloody and cut. Who is this battered and bruised wretch that, was pick@) up by the police, and carried in drunk, and foul, and blee® ing? Did T call him man the second? He is man the first Rum tnsformed him. Rum destroyed his prospects, 0# disapp: noted parental expectation. Rum withered those & THE DIME TEMPERANCE SPEAKER, "lands of commencement day. Rum cut his lip. Rum dashed Sut his manhood. Rum, accursed RUM! THE RUM FIEND’S PORTRAIT. This foul thing gives one swing to its scythe, and our bes ' Merchants fall; their stores are sold, and they sink into dis 4 nored graves. Again it swings its scythe, and ministers of the Gospel fal tom the hights of Zion, with long-resounding crash of ruin } 8nd shame. Some of your own households have already been shaken, ™ Perhaps you can hardly admit it; but where was your son | last night? Where was he Friday night? Where was he ) Thursday night? Wednesday night? Tuesday night? Mon- } day night ? ‘| Nay, have not some of you in your own bodies felt .the ' Power of this habit? You think that you could stop? Are ‘| You sure you could? Go ona little further, and Iam sure ‘You can not. I think, if some of you should try 10 break } ®way, you would find a chain on the right wrist, and one on | the left; one on the right foot, and another on the left, E. This serpent does not begin to hurt until it has wound round “} Dd round. Then it begins to tighten, and strangle, and : rush, until the bones crack, and the blood trickles, and the “Y yes start from their sockets, and the mangled wretch cries: s/ “Oh, Heaven! oh, Heaven! help! help!” But it is too late; i) 82d not even the fires of woe can melt the chain when once It is fully fastened. Be I have shown you the evil beast. The question is, who wil. 7 | ™@nt him down, and how shall we shoot him? I answé& } ‘tst, by getting our children right on this subject. Let them sow up with an utter aversion to strong drink Tuke care ow you administer it even as medicine. If you find that ‘hey have a natural love for it, as some have, put in a glass f it some horrid stuff, and make it utterly nauseous. Teach hem, as faithfully as you do the catechism, that rum is nd. Take them to the almshouse, and show them the ek and ruiv it works, Walk with them into the domes Mat have been scourged by it. [f a drunkard bath fallen ip THE DIME TEMPERANCE SPEAKER. to a ditch, take them right up where they can see his face. bruised, savage, and swollen, and say: “ Look, my son. Rum did that!” Looking out of your window at some one who} intoxicated to madness, goes through the street, brandishing} his fist, blaspheming God, a howling, defying, shouting, reel-} ‘ing, raving, and fuaming maniac, say ‘o your son: “ Look #}_ that man was once a child like you.” As you go by th | grog-shop, let them know that that is the place where mei} — are slain, and their wives made paupers, and their childiet] alaves. Hold out to your children all warnings, all rewards} all counsels, lest in after-days they break your heart and cure) your gray hairs. THE WEAPONS TO USE. : A man laughed at my father for his scrupulous temperaneé) principles, and said: “I am more liberal than you. I always] give my children the sugar in the glass after we have bee# taking a drink.” Three of his sons have died Srenkerds: and the fourth is) imbecile through intemperate habits. Again, we will battle this evil at the ballot-box. How many men are there who can rise above the feelings of pal] tisanship, #nd demand that our officials shall be sober meu? | I maintain that the question of sobriety is higher than the : i question cf availability ; and that, however eminent a mat} services may be, if he have habits of intoxication, he is upfly for any office in the gift of a Christian people. Our 7 Ee will be no better than the men who make them. e Spend a few days at Harrisburg, or Albany, or Washing’ . jor, and you will find out why, upon these subjects, it is iM} possible to get righteous enactments. F Again, we will war upon this evil by organized sociectic®y The friends of the rum traffic have banded together; apy nually issue their-circulars; raise fabulous sums of morey advance their interests; and by grips, pass-words, signe, and ; stratagems, set at defiance public morals. Let us eonfrol F _ them with organizations just as secret, and, if need be, wil grips, and pass-words, and signs maintain our positi There is no need that our philanthropic societies tell all plans, _ THE DIME TEMPERANCE SPEAKER, 8 I am in favor of all lawful strategy in the carrying on of | this conflict. I wish te God we could lay under the wine- Casks a train, which, once ignited, would shake the earth with the explosion of this monstrous iniquity. Again: we will try the power of the pledge. There are thousands of men who have been saved by putting their Uan.es to such a document. I know it is laughed at; but there are men who, having once promised a thing, do it “Some have broken the pledge.” Yes; they were lars But all men are not liars. I do not say that it ie the duty of all persons to make such signature; but I do suy that i4 will be the salvation of many of you. The glorious work of Theobald Mathew can never be esti- Mated. At his hand four millions of people took the pledge, including eight prelates, and seven hundred of the Roman Catholic clergy. A multitude of them were faithful. Dr. Justin Edwards said that ten thousand drunkards had ‘een permanently reformed in five years. Through the great Washingtonian movement in Ohio, sixty thousand took the pledge. In Pennsylvania, twenty- hine thousand. In Kentucky, thirty thousand, and multi- ) tudes in all parts of the land. Many of these had heen habitual drunkards. One hundred and fifty thousand of them, | itis estimated, were permanently reclaimed. Two of these Men became foreign ministers; one a Governor of a State, Several were sent to Congress, Hartford reported six hun: ' red reformed drunkards ; Norwich, seventy-two; Fairfield, fifty; Sheffield, seventy-five. All over the land reformed ten were received back into the churches that they had be- fore disgraced ; and households were re-established., All up } 8nd down the land there were gratulations, and praise to od. The pledge signed, to thousands has been the pro ¢lamation of emancipation. NO CURE BUT FORCE. I think that we are coming at last to treat inebriation ag . it ought to be treated, numely, as an awful disease, self-in- r flicted, to be sure, but nevertheless a disease. Once fastened ‘Upon a man, sermons will not cure him ; temperance lectures 88 j THE DIME TEMPERANCE SPEAKER, will not eradicate the taste; religious tracts will not arrest 4 it; the Gospel of Christ will not arrest it. Once under the power oi this awful thirst, the man is bound to go on; and if the foaming glass were on the other side of perdition, he would wade through the fires of hell to get it. A young man in prison had such a strong thirst for intoxicating fiquors, that he cut off his hand at the wrist, called for a bowl of brandy in order to stop the bleeding, thrust his wrist _§nto the bowl, and then drank the contents, Stand not, when the thirst is on him, between a man and | his cups! Clear the track for him! Away with the chil- dren: he would tread their life out! Away with the wife: he would dash her to death! Away with the Cross: he | would 1un it down! Away with the Bible: he would tear it up for the winds! Away with heaven: he considers it 7 worthless as a straw! “Give me the drink! Give it to me! Though hands of blood pass up the bowl, and the soul trembles over the pit,—the drink! give it tome! Though | it be pale with tears; though ‘the froth of everlasting an- guish float in the foam—give it to me! I drink to my wife’s woe; to my children’s rags; to my eternal banishment 7 from God, and hopewand heaven! Give it to me! the drink !” Again: we will contend against these evils by trying to f persuade the respectable classes of society to the banishment | of alcoholic beverages. You who move in elegant and re" : fined associations; you who drink the best liquors; you who | never drink until you lose your balance; consider that you have, under God, in your power the redemption of this land from drunkenness, Empty your cellars and wine-closets of the beverage, and then come out and give\us your hand, youl ote, your prayers, your sympathies. Do that, and 1 will ; promise three things: First, that you will find unspeakablé ' happiness in having done your duty ; secondly, you will pro e bably save somebody, perhaps your own child; thirdly, yo® will not, in your last hour, have a regret that you made thé@ sacrifice, if sacrifice it be. As long as you make drinking respectable, drinking cus | toms wili prevail; and the plow-share of death, drawn by terrible disasters, will go on turning up this whole continent Se _ a SBreancomaescmten {HE DIME TEMPERANCE SPEAKER. _ from end to end, with the long, deep, awful furrow of drunk- &rds’ praves. THE SKELETON OF THE HEARTH. Oh, bow this Rum Fiend would like to go and hang up & skeleton in your beautiful house, so that when you opened the front door to go in you would see it in the hall; an When you sit at your table you would see it hanging fror _the wall; and when you open your bed-room you would fin } "atretched upon your pillow; and waking at night you. ' Wourd feel its cold hand passing over your face and pinching f &t your heart! ; There is no home so beautiful but it may be devastated by the awful curse. It throws its jargon into the sweetest har- P Mony. What was if that silenced Sheridan’s voice and shat- tered the golden scepter with which he swayed parliaments } 8nd courts? What foul sprite turned the sweet rhythm of } Robert Burns into a tuneless ballad? What brought down | the majestic form of one who awed the American Senate > With his eloquence, and after a while carried him home dead @runk from the office of Secretary of State? What was it that Crippled the noble spirit of one of the heroes of the late war, F Bntil the other night, in a drunken fit, he reeled from the } eck of a Western steamer and was drowned! There was | ne whose voice we all loved to hear. He was one of the Most classic orators of the century. People wondered why } ®tman of so pure a heart and so excellent a life should have » uch a sad countenance always. They knew not that his f } Wife was a got. > “Woe to him that giveth his neighbor drink!” If this | *urse was proclaimed about the comparatively harmle:a |} ‘rinks of olden times, what condemnation must rest upou ‘| those who tempt their neighbors when intoxicating liquor | Means copperas, nux vomica, logwood, opium, sulphuric acid, Yirtriol, turpentine, and strychnine! ‘Pure liquors :” pure [estruetion! Nearly all the genuine champagne made is - | ar by the courts of Europe. What we get is horrible E 1 40. THE DIME TEMPERANCE SPEAKER, WOMAN'S RESPONSIBILITY. Y call upon woman for her influence in’ the mattex. Many a man who had reformed and resolved on a life of sobriety has been pitched off into old habits by the delicate aand of her whom he was anxious to please. Bishop Potter says that a young man who had been re t formed sat at a table, and when the wine was passed to him © efused to take it. A lady sitting at his side suid, “Certainly } ou will not refuse to take a glass with me?” Again he re- | fused. But when she had derided him for lack of. manliness he took the glass and drank it. He took another and an- other; and putting his fist hard down on the table, said, “Now I drink until I die.” Ina few months his ruin was | consummated. I call upon those who are guily of these indulgences to quit the path of death. Oh, what a change it would make in your home! Do you see how every thing there is being | desolated! Would you not like to bring back joy to your | wife’s heart, and have your children come out to meet you with as much confidence as once they showed? Would you not like to rekindle the home lights that long ago were ex- tinguished? It is not too late to change. It may not en: tirely obliterate from your soul the memory of wasted years and a ruined reputation, nor smooth out from anxious brows the wrinkles which trouble has plowed. It may not call | back unkind words uttered or rough deeds done—for perhaps | in'those awful moments you struck her! It may not take | from your memory the bitter thoughts connected with somé | little grave: but it is not too late to save yourself and secur@ | for God and your family the remainder of your fast-going ife. But perhaps you have not utterly gone astray 1 may ad. Tess one who may not have quite made up his.mind. Let | your better nature speak out. You take one side or the othet in the war against drunkenness. Have you the courage 10 put your foot down right, and say to your companions and friends: “I will never drink intoxicating liquor in all my — : life, nor will I countenance the habit in others?” Have noth ing to do with strong drink, It has turned the earth into 4 place of skulls, and has stcod opening the gate to a lost world a THE DIME TEMPERANOR SPEAKER. to let in its victims, until now the door swings no more upon its hinges, but day and night stands wide open to let in the agonized procession of doomed men. Do I address one whose regular work in life is to adminis ter to this appetite? I beg you—get out of the business. It a woe be pronounced upon the man who gives his neighbur drink, how many woes must be hanging over the man whe ioes this every day, and every hour of the day ! A philanthropist, going up to the counter of a grog-shup as the proprietor was mixing a drink for a toper standit g at the eounter, said to the proprietor, “ Can you tell me what your business is good for?” The proprietor, with an in’ernal laugh, said, “ Jt fattens grave-yards |” God knows better than you do yourself the numfer of drinks you have poured out. You keep a list; but a more accurate list has been kept than yours. You may call if Bur- gundy, Bourbon, Cognac, Heidsick, Hock ; God calls it strong - drink. Whether you seil it in low oyster cellar or behind the polished counter of first-class hotel, the divine curse is: upon you. I[ tell you plainly that you will meet your cus- tomers one day when there will be no counter between you, When your work is done on earth, and you enter the reward. of your business, al! the souls of the men whom you bave destroyed will crowd around you and pour their bitterness into your cup. They will show you their wounds and say, “You made them ; and point to their unquenchable thirst, and say, “ You kindled it;” and rattle their chain and say, “ You forged it.” Then their united groans will smite your ears; and with the hands out of which you once picked the six- Pences and the dimes, they will push you off the verge of ‘reat precipices ;- while, rolling up from beneath, and ~break- tg among the crags of death, will thunder: “ Woe to him that giveth his neighbor drink [” THE DIMK TEMPERANCE SPRAKER, HELP. “Bear ye one another’s burdens.’’—Gab. 6, & Upon the field of conflict Your brother nobly stands, All day he’s borne the banner Now drooping in his hands; "Tis fainting in the conflict, And not of foes afraid, ° That causes him to cry aloud, Come, brother, lend your aid. Upon the field of conflict Your brother wounded lies, And the warm blood of his life The green, in crimson, dyes ; In the charge upon the foe, 80 bravely planned and made, He’s fallen now upon the field, While calling loud, for aid. Upon the field of conflie Your brother dying lies, His pulse is growing feeble, And dimmer grow his eyes ; And yet the battle rages— Yet the assault is made, And the dying warrior whispers, Come, brother, lend your aid. Upon the field of conflict The banner still he holds, But it trembles in his grasp, As he dies beneath its folda; It has never trailed the dust, It e’er has cast its shade— Now he begs you hold it up— He calls to you for aid. Upon the field of conflict Your brother now lies dead Comrades, hollow out for him Upon that field, a bed, . és THE DIME TEMPERANCE SPEAKER. While from the lifeless form so cold, In martial cloak arrayed, Comes a call you may not spurn, Come, brother, lend your aid. Upon the field of conflict, That the battle they may win, Some now are standing, fighting, Contending bard with sin— And some are falling, dying, But they are not dismayed ; And yet, dear do-less brother, They justly claim your aid. THE HARDEST LOT OF ALL.— Altered from Oharlea Sprague. The vice of intemperance is sad enough in the man~—with- out family, for then his heaviest sin is upon himself; but, when the husband and father takes to the intoxicating cup, _ the vice becomes terrible, beyond all words to paint. It is a living death to his home and fireside, a soul torture to his Wife, a deep, ineradicable disgrace to his children. Ruin, Woe misery are in bis train— want, suffering and despair. To tne wife of his bosom—the mother of his children, what a- wretched fate is hers. ' It is, my friends, in the degradation of a husband Ly im. fcraperance, above all, that she, who has ventured every thiag, feels that every thing is lost. Woman, silent-suffering, te Voted woman, here bends to her direst affliction. The _ Measure of her woe is, in truth, full, whose husband isa drunkard. Who shall protect her, when he is her insulter, -her oppressor? What shall delight her, when she shrinks oe _ from the sight of Jus face, and trembles at the sound of 2 ~ Voice? The hearth is indeed dark, that Ae has made desolite There, through the dull midnight hour, her griefs are wh \ 44 THE DIME TEMPERANCE SPEAKER, pered to herself, her bruised heart bleeds in secret. There, while the cruel author of her distress is drowned in distant revelry, she bolds her solitary vigil, waiting, yet dreading his return that will only wring from her by his unkindness tears even more scalding than those she sheds over his transzres- sion. To fling a deeper gloom across the present, memory turng back, and broods upon the past. Like the recollection to th jun-stricken pilgrim of the cool spring that he drank at it the morning, the joys of other days come over her, as if only to mock her parched and weary spirit. She recalls the ardent lover, Whose graces won her from the home of her infancy ; the enraptured father, who bent with such delight over his new-born children ; and she asks if this can really be he— this sunken being, who has now nothing for her but the sot’s disgusting brutality—nothing for those abashed and trembling children, but the sot’s disgusting example ! Can we wonder that, amid, these agonizing moments, the tender cords of violated affection should snap asunder? that the scorned and deserted wife should confess, “there is no killing like that which kills the heart?” that, though it would have been hard for her to kiss for the last time the cold lips of her dead husband, and lay his body forever in the dust, it is harder to behold him so debasing life, that even his death would be greeted in mercy ? Had he died in the light of his goodness, bequeathing to his family the inheritance of an untarnished name, the ex- ample of virtues that should blossom for his sons and daughters from the tomb—though she would have wept bit- terly indeed, the tears of grief would not have been also the fears of shame. But to behold him, fallen away from the pation he once adorned, degraded from eminence to ignominy —-at home, turning his dwelling to darkness, and its holy en- deuarments to mockery—abroad, thrust from the companion: ship of the worthy, a self-branded outlaw—this is the woe that the wife feels is more dreadful than death, that she mourns over as worse than widowhood. Who would not have pity for such a lot? Who, behold- ing that blighted life, can fail to turn to the true source of thé wrong that has been done—the liquor-seller? All over thé THE DIME TEMPERANCE SPEAKER. land are wives mourning in desolation; the desolater is tri- umphant over them and the ruin he has wrought; he defies ‘aw, he scorns public opinion, he rejoices in debauch and sin, and we are powerless. Oh no, not powerless. We are only supine, indifferent, Selfish, timid; we close our eyes and say—so long as our homes are not invaded we'll not strike; the rumpiend may ssault and capture our neighbors’ homes but itfis net sai usiness to interfere; and so the fiend rejoices while wigea are worse than widowed and children are beggared and dis graced. : How mean, how base, how sinful is our supineness! How We outrage every generous instinct of our nature when we encourage, even by indifference, the liquor craffic! And if Our children (as many of them will if the dyors of rum-shops are not closed) shall drift into the tempter’s path, who will be to blame ? Answer, oh ye fathers and husbands, who, for whatever motive, refuse to aid in destroying the destroyer! THE CURSE OF RUM.—Lizwe . Barlow. When first our Father formed this earth, And fashioned all things good and fait, He gave to all of mortal birth The glorious gift of light and air, The sun’s bright beams to glad the heart, The calm of night to soothe the weary Of all He made there was a part To make the life of man more cheery. The fruits to strengthen and impart To earthly forms the boon of health, And to provide for pain’s keen dart, ae Apptopriats herbs enbanced the wealth, | THR CCM TEMPYRANCR Si HAKER. In all these works of wisdom, then, We see a Father’s generous care, For all the “needs” required by men He gave—in water, food, and air! Combined, these form his greatest wante-. Divided—greater they become, And who the praise of wine still vaunts, * Yet owns the need of all as one, Foreseeing the evil that befell A favored child, we read, of old, The fevered heat of thirst to quell He ordered water, clear and cold, Oh, foolish, thankless heart of man, That thus the gift of Heaven doth spurn, And substitutes the fiery dram To fire the brain, the heart to burn. A thousand evils mark’ the course Intemperance trails o’er all our land— "Gainst youth and manhood, all his force Is hurled by Rum’s tyrannic hand. And thus through life, from youth to age Intemperance wields its awful power, Its. prowess gives a black-marked page— Its sorrows are the drunkard’s dower. The infant on the mother’s breast, Youth in the flush of manhood’s grace— O.u age goes tottering with the rest, Bowed ’neath the curse Rum brings our race, But o’er the mountain and the vale A light streams through the darkening cloud, Borne on the breeze and sweeping gale, Our temperance cry rings clear and loud. We'll hunt the demon to his lair, And wrest his victims from bis power, We'll raise our starry banner there, To proudly float "mid sun an@ shower } THE DIME TEMPERANCE SPEAKER. Then speed thou on, oh, gallant bark, With sails unfurled and bounding keel, Thy beacon-light the glimmering spark Of hope nigh crushed ‘neath rum’s fierce heel, Long may thy crew caited brave The storm and thunder of King Rum, Till o’er the tempest and the wave 5 The Master calls—* Thy work is done !” THE FWoO DOGS.—A FABLE. An honest dog was onve jogging along a country road While peacefully pursuing his way, he was overtaken by an- other dog, who, though a stranger to him, at once proposed that, inasmuch as both were going in the same direction, they should share each other’s company. Now, as the way was a very Jonely one, and the honest’ © dog was a yery social and accommodating dog, he willingly — consented to the proposition, and fox a time, they journeyed along very pleasantly together. But, tue honest dog soon learned that his companion was not ‘n all respects what he should be, yet, being a very kind-hearted and generous dog, he could not make up his mind to offend his self-confessed evil companion by deserting him, and so tiey continued their — journey in company. Finally, they came. to a wide pasture, upon whose sree Jopes a valuable flock of sheep were giazing. : “flee.” said the strange dog; “ here is a grand opportta fly ‘ ora good time. Let us get over the fence and ran those . -ellows down.” “ No,” said the honest dog; “I have been reared differ entiy—if you are determined to do evil, go your own way. 1 do not propose to lose my own character and govud reputar tion,” : “farry, then, and wait by the-way until my return,” said) the strange dog, as he bounded over tlie fence aud commenced pursuing the frightened flock. : 48 THE DIME TEMPERANCE SPEAKER. E It was a strong temptation for the honest dog to. follow his evil counselor, but his better judgment partially triumphed ; i yet, being possessed of that idle curiosity, innate with all dogs, he lingered for a time, to watch the results of his late com. pauion’s capers, instead of quietly going on his way. _ §o intent did the now half-honest dog become in viewny _ the evil art’cs of his late traveling-companion that he did not _ serve the sudden and unexpected approach of the owner 0 she dock who, enraged at what he saw going on in the pas ture, immediately dispatched him. MORAL. Avoid all evil companionships, nor suffer yourself to be vaught lurking about questionable places. Men are judged more often by their companionships an4 associations than by their own acts and words; and any intimate association with evil-doers is invariably conclusive evidence of guilt, / THE SOURCE OF TRUE REFORM.—Rev. CG. H. Chapin. Tue great element of Reform is not born of human wis- - dom, it does not draw its life from human organizatiens. I find it only in Curistraniry. “Thy kingdom come!’ There is a sublime and pregnant burden in this Prayer. It is the aspiration of every soul that goes forth in the spirit of Re- form. For what is the significance of this Prayer? It is a _ petition that all holy influences would penetrate and subdue and dwell in the heart of man, until he shall think, ard ‘speak, and do good, from the very necessity of his being #0 would the iustitutions of error and wrong crumble and pass away. So would sin die out from the earth; and the ‘human soul living in harmony with the Divine Will, this earth would become like Heaven. It is too late for the Re- formers to sneer at Christianity,—it is foolishness for them ) reject it. In it are enshrined our faith in human progress, -—our confidence in Reform. Jt is indissolubly connected ~ th all that is hopeful, spiritual, capable, in man. That ’ . 2 dic 4 THE DIME TEMPERANCE SPEAKER. 49 men have misunderstood it, and perverted it, is true. But It is also true that the noblest efforts for human melioration | lave come out of it,—have been based upon it. Is it not ' 80? Come, ye remembered ones, who sleep the sleep of the ' Just,—who took your conduct from the line of Christian _ Philosoply,—come from your tombs, and answer ! | Come, Howard, from the gloom of the prison and the taint of the lazar-house, and show us what Philanthropy can 40 when imbued with the spirit of Jesus. Come, Eliot, from, the thick forest where the red man listens to the Word of | Life ;—come, Penn, from thy sweet counsel and weaponless } VYictory,—and show us what Christian Zeal and Christian Love can accomplish with the rudest barbarians or the fiercest hearts. Come, Raikes, from thy labors with the ignorant and the poor, and show us with what an eye this Faith regards the lowest and least of our race ; and how diligently it labors, } ot for the body, not for the rank, but for the plastic soul | that is to course the ages of immortality. And ye, who are & great number,—ye nameless ones,—who have done good in | Your narrow spheres, content to forego renown on earth, and _ Seeking your Reward in the Record on High,—come and tell Us how kindly a spirit, how lofty a purpose, or how strong a Courage, the Religion ye professed can: breathe into the poor, the humble, and the weak. Go forth, then, Spirit of Chris-' | tiauity, to thy great work of Rurorm! The Past bears wit } Yess to thee in the blcod of thy martyrs, and the ashes of | thy saints and heroes; the Present is hopeful because of thee; the Future shall acknowledge thy omnipotence. ? THE RUM FIEND. The rum fiend cast his eyes abroad, And looked o’er all the land, And numbered his myriad worshipers With bia birdtike, long right band. . oe x THE DIME TEMPERANCE SPEAKER. He took his place in the teeming street, And watched the people go, Round and about with a buzz and a shout, Forever to and fro, “ And it’s hip!” cried the rum fiend, “ hip hurrah For the multitudes I see, ’ Who offer themselves in sacrifice, And die for the love of me!” There stood a woman on the bridge, _ She was old, but not with years— Old with éxcess, and passion and pain, And she wept remorseful tears ; And she gave to her babe her milkless breast, Then, goaded by its ery, Made a desperate leap in the river deep, In the sight of the passers-by ! * And it’s hip !” cried the rum fiend, “ hip, hurrah She sinks and let her be— In life or death, whatever she did Was all for the love of me!” There watched another by the hearth, With sullen face and thin, She uttered words of scorn and hate To one that staggered in; Long had she watched, and when he came His thoughts were bent on blood ; He could not brook her taunting look, And he slew her where she stood ; ® And it’s hip !” cried the rum fiend, “ bip, hurrah! My right good friend is he; He hath slain his wife, he hath given his life, And all for the love of me !” And every day in the crowded way He takes his fearful stand, And numbers his myriad worshipers With his bird-like, long right hand. ae ae a’ os eee” ae oh A od Fee he ee eee he, THE DIME TEMPERANCE SPHAKER, And every day the weak and the strong, Widows, and maidens, and wives, Blood warm, blood cold, young men and old, Offer the fiend their lives “ And it’s hip !” he says, “ hip, hip, hurrah | For the multitudes I see, They sell their souls for the burning drink, And die for the love of me !” TRUE LAW AND FALSE It was the patriot Hopkinson who gave utterance to these in.pressive sentences : “ Happy is that country, and only that, where the laws are not only just and equal, but supreme and irresistible; where Belfish interests and disorderly passions are curbed by an arm to which they must submit. We look back with horror and affrisht to the troubled.ages when a crue] and gloomy super- 8titica tyrannized over the people of Europe; dreaded alike by kites and people, by governments and individuals ; before Which the law had no foree, justice no respect, and mercy no | | influence The sublime precepts of morality, the kind and endearing charities, the true and rational reverence for a boun- tiful Creator, which are the elements and the life of our reli- gion, were trampled upon, in the reckless career of ambition, priie, aad the lust of power. Nor was it much better when tbe arm of the warrior and the sharpness of his sword deter ®ined every question of right, and held the weak in bondage te the strong; and the revengeful feuds of the great involved mM one commox ruin themselves and their humblest vassals. _ fhose disastrous days are gone, never to return. There isne power but the Law, which is the power of ail ; and those whe wimiuister it are the masters and the ministers of all.” . law! With Hopkinson, we may say it is indeed a blessed bons when founded in justice and backed by an honest pub lic uprnivn, 62 THE DIME TEHMPHKRANCE SPKAKER, Law! It is both the guerdon of strength and the conser vator of peace. It is the shield of the weak and the guard of the strong. It guides, rules, and establishes. It is the great bow-anchor of the ship of State, and the grapnel that holds each household bark in its moorings. It is wisdom, light, and civilization combined. This is law in ts true acceptation and estate. It is he xpression of human rights and living principles—the embodj xent of the Golden Rule. Alas, that it ever should be otherwise Alas, that, undet the guise of its august majesty we,in this amply-blest Repub- lic, should behold perversions of right that amount to an abro- gation of authority and a defiance of a just public opinion ! Alas, that, under sanction of legislative enactments, good citi- zens are compelled to see drunkenness in our streets, grog- sellers in power, and vice conserved by their malign in- fluence ! Liquor has poisoned our whole political system. It has corrupted tke legislators, it brands men on the forehead in Congress, it taints the very breath of society, and overshad- ows all the land like a great Upas, from which there is no escape. All this is accomplished under the guise of law. But is it law? No; not Jaw, in truth; only law in form. True law never conserves vice and wrong; never demoralizes or enerv- ates; never is a curse; it is founded on immutable r7ght—is, indeed, the expression of right embodied in active form, If this be law, then all enactments that protect the hideous traffic in liquor are simply outrages upon the State and the in*‘vidual alike; they never can be sustained by an honest public opinion; and the quicker the statutes are cleared ct hese stains, the better for the present—the far better for Lhe _uture ! Who, seeing the crime, misery, degradation, ruin, wrought by the liquor-trade, can hesitate to denounce it as defiant of all law, a curse to the generation and a sin against Heaven ? Law—law! Give us that, in its purity, and we are safe But, give us perversions of true law, and we are lost ! 7 THE DIME TEMPERANCE SPHAKER. IN BAD COMPANY.—By Joe Jot, Jr Two dogs met on the highway once, While going on a journey ; Taeir Christian names were Tray and Bounce, Their surnames don’t concern ye. Said Tray, “ Good-morning, my good friend: We're having pleasant weather !” They passed the compliments of the day, And traveled on together. Tray was a splendid dog, though born Of parents poor but humble; He always did the household chores, Nor stopped to growl or grumble; He never ran away from scnool, Nor licked his little brother, And always went right straight along On errands for his mother. But Bounce was a far different dog, Quite proud and overbearing, He looked with sneer at the old clothes That honest Tray was wearivg Said he, “ My friend, those boots vf yours Have been too long in svrvice, And oh! that shocking iad hat, sir, To look at makes me nervous !” He rated Tray in such a style He almost lost his patience, And bousted of bis erllege days And of his rich relations; But Tray bore it with manly heart, And never made objection, But turned the current of the talk Upon the spring election ; And so they trudged along—the carts All going the wrong direction. They came into a country town And stopped before a doggery ; “ My friend,” said Bounce, “let us go in I feel a little Jagery.” THE DIME TEMPERANCE SPHAKER. “No, no,” said Tray, “ I'll wait for yor, And rest upon this log, sir ; I think it’s hard to drink and be A gentlenranly dog, sir.” So Tray sat there reading the signa, Till out came Bounce a-reeling, For he bad lapped a glass too much, And woke Tray’s pitying feeling. He took his arm to steady him ; The village dogs went following All making fun and cracking jokes, And “Oh, what green ’uns!” holloaing, But Bounce hurrahed for Jackson, and Went stumbling o’er the doorsteps, And said, “ What sidewalks they have here~« They make a man take poor steps !” And then he warbled nursery rhymes, And sassed the people awfully, And swore he’d clean the whole town out, And carried on unlawfully. The marshal came and took them both And tied their hands behind them, And took them to the mayor, who heard The charge and heavily find them; And though Tray vowed his inn6écence, _ The mayor would not totter Tn his decree, but sent them both To jail on bread and water. MORAL: Now all you little boys and dogs, The moral plain enough is, Be careful of your company— Unless you're after office. THE DIME TEMPERANCE SPEAKER. 58 THE ONLY TRUE NOBILITY.—Reo. Orville Dewey. I call upon those whom I address to stand up for the } Robility of labor. It is heaven’s great ordinance for bh iman } improvement. Let not that great ordinance be broken down, ; What do I say? It broken down; and it has been broken } own, for ages. Let it, then, be built up again; here, if any } Where, on these shores of a new world—of a new civil za "jon, But how, I may be asked, is it broken down? Do not ' Sen toil? it may be said. They dv, indeed, toil; but they too generally do it because they must. Many submit to it as, ' in some sort, a degrading necessity ; and they desire nothing } 80 much on earth as escape from it. They fulfill the great law of labor in the letter, but break it in the spirit; fulfill it | With the muscle, but break it with the mind. To some field Of labor, mental or manual, every idler should hasten, as a ' Chosen and coveted theater of improvement. But so is he hot impelled to do, under the teachings of our imperfect civi- lization. On the contrary, he sits down, folds his hands, and blesses himself in his idlencas, This way of thinking iw the _ heritage of the absurd and unjust feudal system, under which Serfs labored, and gentlemen spent their lives in fighting and feasting. It is time that this opprobrium of toil were done away. Ashamed to toil, art thou? Ashamed of thy dingy Work-shop and dusty labor-field; of thy hard band, scarred With service more honorable than that of war; of thy smiled — 8nd weather-stained garments, on which mother Nature has — €mbroidered, midst sun and rain, midst fire and steam, ner Own heraldic Lunors? Ashamed of these tokens and titles, and envious of the flaunting robes of imbecile idleness and Vanity? It is treason to Nature—it is impiety to Heaven— ! is’ breaking Heaven’s great ordinance. Toru, I repeut—« OIL, either of the brain, of the heart, or of the hand, is the “nly true manhood, the only true nobility ! THE DIME TEMPERANCE SPEAKER. THE INEBRIATE’S END. : Raise me up gently—there— Let's : Oh, give me a breath of the pure, cold air! et her I am dying, at last— I am going so fast. But no one will care how soon I am cold— They'll hurry me under the damp, dark mold, And “ Only a pauper,” they'll say as they pasa “ Another poor wretch is buried—alas ! That all were not lying beneath the sod Who set at naught the great laws of God.” Bring me water, I pray ; MISE Boy ma I drank nothing else in my childhood’s day; My ac How it ran by our door! bing t How it leaped on the shore ! OY feat Oh! why did I drink from the poisoned bow] luo ; That has wrecked my life and ruined my soul t tots That has laid in the grave my lovely wife, iy ae And filled my life with bitterest strife ? Men Do you think I can find forgiveness up there hhy Fo What a wretch have I been ! Cum None but God knoweth how great is my sin e ha But the bowl I’ve forsook— Mk. Have you’mong vou a Book— AV)? The Book that tells of the “ prodigal son ?” &, g} Ah! the life that God gave me is almost gone- im e The shadows are deepening, my eyes are dim— ‘hd g I have heard your prayer and beautiful hymn ! in, I may be forgiven—God knows alone— liay I shall hope aad trust to behold the throne. hrs { 1 am going—good-by— : oy No one loves me here—I hope that on high eeg My poor-wife waits for me Nile By the great crystal sea— Near ipa y a She loved me till death, so true was her heart= we ’T will be sweet to meet her, never to part; ac My life has been bilter—I’m glad ’tis most o’er, cha Your faces are sad—oh, try ye to save us Some youth from despair and a vile drunkard’s gravé THE DIME TEMPRRANCE SPEAKER, A DRUNKEN SOLILOQUY.—A/Jf. Burnett. ; Let's see, where aml? This is coal ’'m lying on. How’d Set here? Yes, I mind now; was coming up street; met ‘Wheel-barrow wot was drunk, coming t’other way. That eel-barrow fell over mie, or I fel] over the wheel-barrow “one of us fell into the cellar, don’t mind now whick Ps it must have been me. I’m a nice young man yes, 7" tight, tore, drunk, shot! Well, I can’t help it; “taig WW fault. Wonder whose fault it is? Is it Jones’s fault r 7°! Is it my wifes fault? Writ rz arn’r! Is it the cel-barrow’s fault? No-o-o! IT’S WHISKY’S FAULT | WAISKY! who's Whisky? Has he got a large family? Jt many relations? All poor, I reckon. 1 won’t own him iv more; cut his acquaintance. JI have had a notion of 4,08 that for the last ten years; always hated to, though,. f fear of hurting his feelin’s. Tl do it now for I believe flor is injurin’ me; it’s spoiling my temper. Sometimes | Sets mad and abuses Bets and. the brats. I used to call J), Lizzie and the children; that’s a good while ago, though. "2, when I cum home, she used to put her arms around h Neck and kiss me, and call me “ dear William!” When I “tm brme now she takes her pipe out of her mouth, puts ’ hair out of her eyes, and looks at me and says, “ Bill, you 1 hacker brute, shut the door after you! We're cold enough, yt’ yo fire, thout lettin’ the snow blow in that way.” ss she’s Bets and ’'m Bill now; I ain’t a good bill neither : ' ounterfeit; won't pass—(a tavern without goin’ in Hh. Setting a drink.) Don’t know wot bank I’m on; last 1 yay was on the river-bank, at the Corn Exchange, drunk } ti lay out pretty late—sometimes out all. night, when Bet q),° the door with a bed-post ; fact is, ’m out pretty muci Pover—out of friends, out of pocket, out at elbows ang j - and out—rageously dirty. So Bets says, but she’s no hy, 8° for she’s never clean herself. I wonder she don’t .’t good clothes? Maybe she ain’t got any! Whose e is thes? ’Tain’t mine! It may be whisky’s. Some- *s Pm in; I’m in-toxicated now, and in somebody’s coal .t. T've got one good principle; I never runs in debt, We nobody won't trust me. One of my coat-tails is gone; THE DIME TEMPERANCE SPEAKER. got tore off, I expect when I fell down here. get a new suit soon. A feller told me Vother day I’d oe a sign for a paper-mill. If he hadn’t been so big I'd Ve Tir him. Ive had this shirt on nine days. Id take it of] « Le T’m”fraid I’d tear it. Quess I tore the window-shutt@Mit A 41, my pants t’other night, when I sot on the wax in Ben oP Mavin, shoe-shop. Tl have to get it mended up or T’ll cate © pMejy 1 Jain’t very stout neither, though I’m full in the face, a8 Tain boys say.. “I’m fat as a match, and healthy as the 9? terp,, pox.” My hat is standin’ guard for a window-pale 78 goa went out the other day at the invitation of a brick-bat. 9¥e sh getting cold down here; wonder how Til get out? eo Yorla able to climb. If I had a drink, think I could do it. teach see, I ain’t got three cents; wish I was in a tavern, ia Th sponge it then, When anybody treats, and says, “ Wer fellows!’ I always thinks my name is fellows, and Iv boon good manners to refuse. I must leave this place, or : Nore arrested for burglary, and I ain’t come to that yet! Any Very it was the wheel-barrow did the harm, not me! Natio the ¢ Weeq Nad, ee Vhe: Mis} “our THE WORK TO DO.—B. P. Foot. - “While we act upon the maxim, ‘In peace prepare for a . let us also remember that the best preparation for We peace. Thisswells your numbers; this augments your me digg this knits the sinews of your strength; this covers yo Mar ver with a panoply of might. And then, if war must © Wit In a just cause, no foreign state—no, not all combined 4g send forth an adversary that you need fear to encountel i do “ But, give us these twenty-five years of peace. I do vel that this coming quarter of a century is to be the most | portant in our whole history. Let us have these twentY oi the years of peace. Let these fertile wastes be filled with swt an ing millions; let this tide of emigration from Burope 8° im 8ec let the steamer, the canal, the railway, and especiatly ‘el TEMPERANCE SPEAKER, 58 THE DIME "at Pacific railway, subdue these mighty distances, and ug this vast extension into a span. “Let us pay back the ingots\of California gold with bars Atlantic iron; let agriculture clothe our vast wastes with Wing plenty; let the industrial and mechanic arts erect eir peaveful fortresses at the waterfalls; and then, in the in of this growing population, let the printing-office, th “Cture-room, the village school-house and the village churc: pan? @* scattered over the country. And in these twenty-five year 4 Me shall exbibit a spectacle of national prosperity such as the rld has never seen on so large a scale, and yet within the Rach of a sober, practical contemplation.” i) 4 ? These, my hearers, were the sentiments of Edward Everett. ” #, "euty-five years of peace—nay, peace forevermore—were 4 boon which would be vouchsafed to all the world were men More wise and governments less arrogant. Peace is what Any Very well-ordered nature craves; war beggars and destroys ; ‘tions are depressed and exhausted even with victory, while © defeated suffer incalculable woes. War is simply author- "ed human slaughter; it makes antagonists of friends, and Madmen of foes; it never yet has wrought a work which, When done, has not left something to regret; it has accom- Mished nothing that could not have been far better done by “ouncil and arbitrament ; but men areso given up to passion, © Vainglory, to thirst for conquest and power, that war prob- ‘bly never will cease—certainly not, until the world beer-mes Nore Lumanized. wal ; d ett One of the most deplorable effects of war is that of widely “if seminating a thirst for alcoholic stimulants. Men on the 3 col March, in the camp, in the trenches, demand spirituous liquor a4 With the mistaken idea that liquor keeps up the strength ; and ’ 8 a consequence, when a citizen soldiery return to the Shes, they bring with them a thirst which only strong drink San quench, Th this country, what asad proof we have of this fact! sn € vast multitude of saloons, sample-rooms, restaurants, bars, ‘nd rummeries which deal out liquor by the drink, in every *ction of the Union, we have one of the legitimate fruits of War, A baleful fruit itis. Like an orgie after a funeral, we 48em to court the bottle to drown the memory of events. 60 THE DIME TEMPERANCE SPHAKER. Twenty-five years of peace will scarcely suffice 10 make a whole again unless a!l good citizens, North and South, igh! down this dreadful tife and money waste chargeabie to liqu! drinking. Every effort to suppress the traffic ought to be & couraged; every man engaged in the business of mann factlll ing or selling liquor ought to be made to feel that publi opinion is against him ; every man who becomes intonicalé cught to be discountenanced and censured. This alone W! make a wholesome public sentiment, and inaugurate a p™ gress which will again render us a happy and prosper people, TO LABOR I8 TO PRAY.—Frances & Osgood. Pause not to dream ct the future before us; Pause not to weep the wild cares that come o’er ut ; Hark, how Creation’s deep, musical chorus, Unintermitting, goes up into ceaven | Never the ocean wave falters in flowing; Never the little seed stops in its growing ; More and more richly the rose-heart keeps glowing, Till from its nourishing stem it is riven. “ Labor is worship !’—the robin is singing ; “Labor is worship !’—the wild bee is ringing: Listen ! that eloquent whisper upspringing Speaks to thy soul from out Nature’s great heart, From the dark cloud flows the life-giving shower ; From the rough sed blows the soft-breathing flower From the small inse«t, the rick coral bower ; Only man, in the plan, shrinks from his part. Labor is life! ’Tis the still water faileth ; Idleness ever despaireth, bewaileth ; Keep the watch wound, for the dark rust assaileth ; Me ot Flowers droop and die in the stillness of noon, THE DIME TEMPERANCE SPEAKER. Labor is glory !—the flying cloud lightens ; Only the waving wing changes and brightens Idle hearts only the dark future frightens ; Play the sweet keys, woulusé sliou keep them in tune Labor is rest from the sorrows that greet us, Rest from all petty vexations that meet us, ’ Rest from sin-promptings that ever entreat us, Rest from world-sirens that lure us to ill. Work—and pure slumbers shall wait on thy pillow ; Work—thou shalt ride over Care’s coming billow; Lie not down wearied ’neath Woe’s weeping-willcw t Work with a stout heart and resolute will ! Labor is health! Lo! the husbandman reaping, How threugh his veins goes the life-current leaping | How ‘his strong arm, in its stalwart pride sweeping, True as a sunbeam, the swift sickle guides! Labor is wealth—in the sea the pearl groweth ; Rich the queen’s robe from the frail cocoon flowetk } From the fine acorn the strong forest bloweth ; Temple and statue the marble-block hides. Droop not, though shame, sin and anguish, are round thee! Bravely fling off the cold’ chain that hath bound thee! Look to yon pure Heaven smiling beyond thee ; Rest not content in thy darkness—a clod | Work—for some good, be it ever so slowly ; Cherish some flower, be it ever so lowly ; Labor—all labor is nobie and holy ; Let thy great deeds be thy prayer to thy God! THE SUCCESSFUL LIFE.—4A. F. Bridges. , Will I succeed in life? How often this question presenta “elf to the carnest student who, like Albert Ciarltore, talks Of © “ vocaticn” and “goal!” In the quiet of his study, 62 THE DIME TEMPERANCE SPEAKER. among mirthful companions—everywhere it accompanies bl and will not down at his bidding, nor vanish at a wavé his hand, Before answering the question, it is necessary to define! term success. Its generally received definition is vague not erroneous. With the idea of success is popularly as ciated that of eminence—of flash and of brilliancy. But 8 not essentially true. A man engaged in some trivial enté prise may meet with success—he can do no more who quers a world. ‘ Success,” then, “is the attainment of a pr posed object.” He who accomplishes what he undertak@ be that insignificant or otherwise, succeeds, How often in hasty, inconsiderate judgment have we at counted lives of success failures, simply because renown eminence have uot attended them, The lily that blooms ™ seen in the marshy dell accomplishes the purpose of its cre tion, and lives as successful a life as the more conspicuous ! its kindred whose graceful forms are mirrored in the limp waters of the public fountain. The insect bird that wandé from flower to flower, culling sweets from the fragrant cb® ice, makes a success of its life as well as. the eagle wh broad pinions cut the ether jn his spiral march to the sill So with regard to human affairs. Modest worth has its ward.