Belfast said to myself some months ago, "The truth is, if you teetotalers should succeed, we doc. tors might shut shop." It is perfectly certain, that if instead of perpetuating in the community the miserable and fatal delusion that alcoholic stimulation is the proper remedy for exhaustion, the faculty would teach and practice the exact truth upon this subject, its members would do more for the cure and prevention of disease in one year than they can do by the present system for the next century. While the above extract from our first medical journal, which has so often treated temperance truth with worse than contempt, ought to startle from their superstitious reverie that numerous class who receive, without question, all the doctor says on such a subject, it at the same time furnishes cheering evidence of the "good time coming." But why should it not come more speedily? We do not object to careful examination, on the contrary we wish it, but we earnestly demand that it,should be made quickly. Is there no cause for haste? If Dr. Gairdner's investigations and statements be not a tissue of blunders and falsehoods, they demonstrate what the temperance society has so long been teaching, that alcoholic medication, apart from all other evil consequences, is destroying thousands of human lives every year; and if this consideration is not sufficient to draw the attention of the doctors and their victims to the subject, what would?

Next month I intend to ask the attention of the readers of the Journal to the erroneous teaching of the theological faculty instead of that of the medical, regarding the use of intoxicants. This has been called for by the appearance, in last month's Evangelical Witness, of a paper containing much false teaching, entitled "Wine in the Bible," by the Rev. Dr. Murphy, of Belfast. The document being from the pen of a learned, honest, and good man, is all the more dangerous, and consequently demands the more earnest attention. JOHN PYPER.

The Sacramental Wine Question.

By the Rev. Professor MosES STUART, D.D. Mark xiv. 23-25: "And he took the cup, and, when he had given thanks, he gave it to them, and they all drank of it. And he said unto them, This is my blood of the New Testament, which is shed for many. Verily, I say unto you, I will drink no more of the fruit of the vine until that day that I drink it new in the kingdom of God."

Is there not a sanction here of drinking ordinary wine? Far from it. It is beyond all reasonable doubt, that orthodox Judaism has ever and always rejected alcoholic or fermented wine at sacred feasts. Even now, as you have shown, and as I have abundantly satisfied myself by investigation, the passover is celebrated with wine newly made from raisins, where unfermented wine cannot be had. This would seem to explain the difficult passages in Matt. xxvi. 29, "I will not drink of this fruit of the vine, until that day when I drink it new with you in my Father's kingdom." What "new" here means, you may look for in vain among expositors. Good old Schleusner says, it means "excellent." So I would say too, but not as he does, by giving the appellation "new" merely a figurative sense. "New" alludes to the wine then employed on that occasion. The meaning seems plainly to be this: "I shall no more celebrate with you a holy communion service on earth; in heaven we shall meet again round our Father's table, and there we will keep a feast with wine appropriate to the occasion, that is, new wine," Of course, we are to understand the language in a spiritual, and not in a literal sense. But the imagery is borrowed from the wine then before them. Scarcely a greater mistake in reasoning can be made, than to rest the

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use of alcoholic wine at the sacramental table, on the example of our Saviour and his disciples. The Passover, which excluded everything fermented, did, in the view of the Hebrews, of course exclude fermented wine. "But (say some) Paul's account of the Lord's Supper at Corinth (1 Cor. xi. 18-34), clearly shows that intoxicating wine was employedone is hungry, and another is drunken!'" Truly it does, if our translators have hit the mark. But, allowing for a moment that they have, does Paul approve of the Corinthian practice? He says expressly that he condemns it. We might rest the case here, then, without further animadversion. But I am not persuaded that our translation does justice here to the Corinthian church. Very strangepassing strange-it would be, if a church so gifted and so famous went to the sacramental table in order to celebrate the origies of Bacchus. The simple state of the case seems to be, that the Corinthians kept a love-feast on sacramental occasions. Thither some carried plenty of provision and drink, and ate and drank to the full; while the poor in the church could not do this, and were thus put to shame by the richer class. "One is hungry," that is, the poor man ; another methuei "drinks to the full," this is the richer man. That the word may mean "gets drunk," I do not deny. That it must mean so, I do deny. Its etemology shows the real meaning. Methu means sweet wine, and most naturally, therefore unfermented wine. Methuo is a denominative verb, formed from it, and means to partake of methu and very naturally, in the second place, to partake freely of it. But, as to being drunken, that is another question. A free partaking of the sweet wine would make no man drunk. The indecorum complained of, lay in the feasting on the one hand, and the starvation, so to speak, on the other. Paul lays his hand upon the whole proceeding, and prohibits public love-feasts, as connected with the Lord's Supper. This now is one of those cases, in which a regard to the character of the parties concerned should exercise control over the interpretations of a word. In this case, such a control is altogether admissible; for it brings us back to the original and natural meaning of the verb methuei, that is, to drink, or drink freely, of methu. Why should we give to the word the worst sense of which it is capable? Wine, in the Bible, most surely never means such wines as we now commonly obtain and use. Some six to ten per

cent. of alcohol is mixed with these in order to check the acetous fermentation, or, as the dealers commonly say, to make them keep well. There has been no other sort of wine in this country, or in England, until within a few years past. The possibility of safely importing any other was, not long since, generally disbelieved and denied. What the sacred writers would have said of brandied wines, is sufficiently clear from what they have said of fermented ones. But what they would have said of the odious, horrible, poisonous mixtures so generally manufactured and sold for wine, is not recorded, nor does it need to be. Enough that they have established principles, which sweep over the whole ground. I should regard a dispute in any church, about the kind of wine to be employed as unfortunate, to say the least, and generally as costing more than it comes to. But this is no reason why the minds of Christians should not be enlightened in regard to the subject, and none why sober and judicious efforts should not be made to bring the churches back to the ancient practice. In particular may this now with propriety be said, since it is in the power of the ohurches to procure unfermented wine.-Letters t the Rev. Dr. Nott on the Bible Wine Question.

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Concerning the Opinions of the Press.

BY THOMAS WALLACE RUSSELL, DUBLIN.

No. II.

IN the British Museum a curious but crumpled sheet may be seen. It is entitled The English Mercurie, and purports to be the first newspaper published in this country. A glowing account of the review at Tilbury-a detailed notice of the scattering of the Spanish Armada-with a few Gazette appointments, make up the sum total of its contents; it being essentially and literally a newsletter. The mustard seed has grown, however, to be a mighty tree, and in that suggestive sheet lies the germ of a great fact and institution of the present age. It were a curious and interesting study to trace its rise and progress, but more especially to trace how it became not only a medium for the dissemination of intelligence--but the recognised exponent of public opinion-to find out how men gradually ceased to think upon certain subjects, actually the while paying others to think for them; how the thoughts of one man sitting pale by the midnight lamp became the ideas, nay, the chartered principles of hundreds on the morrow; how, in short, men, aye and thinking men too, came under the tyranny of our editorial "We."

Let the

All this, and more too, is bound up with the history of the Press. The curious in this respect cannot be better employed than in the perusal of the History of the Invasion of the Crimea, by Kinglake. They will there find the mystery solved; they will discover who's who; and cannot fail to relish the singularly graphic description of that group of English Widows who owned the Times in its early and palmy days. They will find the influence of the Press fairly stated; they will discover how England, with a deeprooted love of peace, and guided by a peaceful ministry "drifted" into war, solely through the martial inspiration of public writers. A question all impor. tant at once meets us, and may be thus'stated:-Are the writers who shape the whisper of the people always sincere. Do they invariably write from conviction, or like intellectual gladiators, do they fight simply because fighting is popular; in plain Saxon, do they trim? do they follow public opinion? sequel show. It has been the lot of Temperance Reformers to receive a tolerable share of abuse at the hands of clever essayists and smart reviewers. They have been called fools and fanatics without any reserve. Their object a good natured but ill-advised hobby, and their prospects, of course, utopian. The Times has thundered. The Saturday Review has snarled. The Morning Advertiser has contained its usual quantum of Gospel and Gin. The Daily News, the Morning Star, aye, and the Evening one too, have all had their say. They have "piped but men have not danced." The Temperance Movement still progresses. The United Kingdom Alliance seems in excellent health, and Mr. Lawson is yet alive! When some men see a leader hostile to the cause they give up in despair. They cannot see how the thing can be managed in the teeth of such able opposition. The clouds are lowering, the rain drops patter. A new hat would not be soiled by the shower, but imagining themselves drenched they retire, and in a quiet kind of way administer globules of sympathy where pounds (neither Troy nor Avoirdupois), of support are wanting. Let these men study the History of the Press.

In the year 1825 a Bill was introduced into the House of Commons, called "The Liverpool and Manchester Railway Bill." In fact some simple minded men, and among them was George Stephenson,

thought that steam was superior to animal locomotion, and they proposed to lay down a railway. The battle was fought-it continued two months-and the opponents triumphed for a season; but let us discern the statements of the newspapers and the reviews.

The

Mr. Smiles in his Lives of the Engineers, vol. 3. chap 10, p. 195, says "Newspapers were hired to revile the Railway. Its formation would prevent cows from grazing and hens from laying. poisoned air from the locomotives would kill birds as they flew over them, and render the preservation of foxes and pheasants no longer possible. Householders adjoining the line were told that their houses would be burnt up by the fire thrown from the enginechimneys, while the air around would be polluted by clouds of smoke. There would no longer be any use for horses; and if railways extended the species would become extinguished, and oats and hay be rendered unsaleable commodities. Travelling by rail would be highly dangerous, and country inns would be ruined. Boilers would burst and blow passengers to atoms." But there was always this consolation to wind up with, that the weight of the locomotive would com. pletely prevent its moving, and that railways, even if made, could never be worked by steam-power.

Well, the rails are laid-and, moreover, extensively too. Horses are still in existence, and, if we may judge by appearances, have a surplus of work. Hay and oats are still valuable. The cow grazes peacefully on the meadow; and in Ireland we have a super

fluity of eggs. Houses are not burned, nor do

boilers burst as a rule, and, above all, the locomotive is not too heavy. The dreams were all delusive-and with the Permissive Bill the case is precisely similar. It, too, like the Railway Bill, will ruin country inns; it will rob a man of his freedom, it will demolish the powers of the senate, subvert the constitution, introduce a dangerous precedent, but, like the locomotive, it never can work by any possibility.

It strikes me this last objection is fatal. The captain who stated that he had thirteen reasons for not firing a salute in honor of the admiral-the first of which was, that he had no powder-was very properly prevented from proceeding farther. It was enough. So with this Bill; if like the locomotive it be too heavy; if it never can work; if it be so utopian, the publicans need not get in a frenzy, nor need the Press rage. The fact is, they have George Stephenson and his engine before their eyes. It had what the Times calls "go" in it. They fear to mount Mr. Lawson on this new locomotive; they refuse it a fair trial.

The Quarterly Review of April, 1825, remarked that it was "palpably ridiculous and absurd to suppose that locomotives ever could or would travel twice as fast as stage-coaches." Science crushed these writers, and so it ever must be. Sophistry and fiction cannot stand the ringing blows of the sledge. hammer of truth.

But a still more recent case of perverse blindness, coupled with some less honorable appellation, is ready to hand. Two years since and the smartest writers of the day declared that the idea of reconstructing the United States was a delusion only entertained by a few old women and "aiblins" some anti-slavery preachers. Now, however, the tables are turned. "The night spent swimmer has been borne in on top of flood.""The hisses have given way to cheers.""the taunts to tribute," and not a few of these literary Titans foresaw it all. "The Southern cause was one of those things that never could go on; we said so from the firing of the first shot. Things have just turned out as we predicted; and then comes all about the heroic valor and the brute force." The English of all this is, Mr. Editor, you ought to be down on your marrow bones weeping for literary sins;

you wrote up the South whilst Lee was victorious, when disaster overtook him you cried "Hit him hard, he's got no friends."

One honorable exception to this rule remains to be noticed. Nothing one half so honorable to Punch has appeared as the cartoon in which Britannia is represented as strewing a joint wreath with Columbia on the bier of Abraham Lincoln. The verses that accompany it, evidently from the same pen as supplied the odes to Lord Clyde and Richard Cobden, are superior to either. Yes, " scurrill jester," there is a place for you by that bier. The rail splitter had disarmed you-he had proved himself a king of men, and in your honest confession one dimly sees the light of other days-days when Jerrold was king, when Thackeray and Leech met at the weekly dinner.

With this exception-and of course those who do not give in yet-the vast majority have either assumed the result as the consummation of their predictions, or practised the eloquence of silence.

"The best laid schemes o' mice and men
Gang aft a'glee."

But it would be well if some writers would kindly take a hint from Paley, and, whilst being less dogmatic, remember that there are worse things in an argument than a margin; something to fall back upon in case of mishap-something in the way of a

reserve.

These two cases, and with them may be coupled nearly every struggle for a great boon-the struggle for Catholic and Negro emancipation-for a Reform Bill and for Free Trade, go conclusively to show, that the Press follow the popular cry-they represent the current opinion; when it changes they change. Little by little the process goes on, and, when the thing seems hopeful, the newspapers leap in and lead that which they take the credit of forming. The position of the Temperance Movement as it stands related to the Press is now an important one. It is no longer contemptible. A fly is not now broken on the wheel; but yet how lamentable the ignorance displayed by public writers on this question. For instance, in that latest candidate for popular favor entitled The Day of Rest, a writer, in an article full of nonsense as a November Guy Fawkes is full of fire-works, is stupid enough to give currency to the old exploded idea, that abstinence is injurious to mental and physical exertion. I do not stay to refute this. It is palpably absurd. The greatest thinker that ever lived, John Locke, was an abstainer. Christopher North, during the brightest years of his life-those years in which he made his name and fame on Blackwood-was a rigid abstainer. And coming to still more recent days we survey giants in intellect, who have lived and died practising our principles. Looking across the Atlantic, we digcover the martyred President bearing such a load as never pressed down a man's shoulders before, and bearing it without recourse to stimulants. In our own country we find two names brushed from the bead roll of life on the same day, the one battling for free trade during a life time, the other doing noble service to the working man's home by the diffusion of cheap and genuine literature-both of them men of iron nerve and great powers-but neither Richard Cobden or John Cassell partook of aught intoxicating. The list might be prolonged. I might ask, who are the most faithful among our ministers? From city to city, from town to town, the test might be carried, and the abstaining clergy would hold more than their own. I might ask, who are the safest, the surest, and the best workmen? The same test would produce a like result. No. If the Day of Rest can find no better employment than retailing a bad rehash of old and absurd fancies, the sooner it finds a Resting

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Place in the Balaam-box of literature the better for itself and the country.

But a more serious error is made by a more important writer. In a leading article on the Alliance Easter Banquet, the Daily News says-in arguing against the suppression of the Liquor Traffic, by Permissive legislation-"Supposing a majority of ratepayers in any given district, held theatre-going to be injurious, would it be right to put down the theatre or leave its maintenance to the hazardous chance of a majority in its favour ?" This is admirably put. It is as soon swallowed; but it is precisely this system of deliberate and wilful blindness we protest against. The parallel is not fair-the logic is not sound. If the theatre be an evil it is a private one, merely affecting the morals of the people. If you are not a theatre-goer you are not injured. Here lies the difference between it and the public-house. Were the public-houses of these lands only to affect those who entered them, were drunkenness only a private evil, then all moral means, and these only, should be brought to the rescue. Drunkenness is more than a private vice, however, it is a PUBLIC evil and a crying grievance. The man, the sober man, who would be ashamed to cross the publican's door, has to pay for the effects of these causes, and it is because of the public evil we demand the public remedy. A man may have a right to get drunk. That is a question for his own consideration, and that of the nearest policeman; but the moment his drunkenness becomes a public grievance, by producing effects for which the ratepayer is taxed, that moment a paternal goverment is bound to concede protection. Drunkenness then is more than a private vice. The Daily News knows it to be so, but it quibbles and raises a cloud of dust to blind.

Another fallacy is most complacently set adrift through the columns of the Pall Mall Gazette, "The Permissive Bill," this writer says, "would punish the innocent because of the evil deeds of the guilty; the minority would suffer at the hands of the majority." This is again very cleverly put, only the blade cuts either way. Supposing there is a district now as things stand. The majority of the ratepayers are in favor of the Permissive Bill. They do not want publichouses. Here a dozen of these drunkard makers may be planted under their very noses, at the whim or caprice of any magistrate. In this case the matter stands thus the majority suffer and pay at the hands of the minority-in the other the minority would suffer (?) but they would not have to pay. The majority suffering and paying-the minority suffering and not paying! Which of these blades cut the sharpest, Mr. Editor.

Then comes the Saturday Review with its weekly snarl. The clever writers in that sheet do not profess to follow after that which is lovely or of good report. Composed chiefly of semi-infidels, they take a pride in picking holes in and nibbling at everything with a good object in view. Save us, therefore, from the friendship of these men. and so long as the Temperance movement can elicit the hatred of the Saturday Review-the opposition of wicked men, and the love of God,-so long will we hold that it is right. The moment it ceases to occupy this indissoluble position, something "must be rotten in the state."

Lastly, the course pursued by the Times is worthy of all attention. Of late it has been led to make great admissions. Devoting a leader to the erection of the Mathew testimonial at Cork, it eulogised the Apostle of Temperance and denounced his work. This was too much for even a writer in the Times; it was nearly fatal to all logical writing. A storm was raised, and very shortly Samson appeared once more on the stage; this time, however, shorn of his

locks. "There were good things about temperance." "Those men who denied themselves were worthy of all honor and praise." "It would be well were there more such men," &c., &c. This was the new role. Then, again, on the Manchester banquet the Times is marvellously civil. There is even a trial at wit, and a few more shadows that "herald the coming event." Let us not be discouraged then. We are a long, long way from that period of which the laureate sings so sweetly

"When each shall find his own in all men's good,
And all shall work in noble brotherhood."

The period predicted by Burns in less elegant but more homely lines

"When man to man the wide world ower,

Shall brithers be for a' that."

But it is coming. Grand and stately are the strides which have been made of late. The world is moving on, and common-sense may fearlessly be backed as the winner. Our writers may carp, and nibble, and scorn now; the time may not be far distant when, with the breeze of popularity filling our sails, they shall make common cause and wonder at the tardiness of our victory. We do not meanwhile forget that "triumph and toil are twins ;" that "joy aye sun's the cloud of sorrow;" that "the martyrdom precedes the victory;" that the murky midnight heralds the glorious morn. Be it ours then to work and pray. This is a busy and an earnest world, where no room can be given to idlers.

"Sigh not the old heroic ages back,

The heroes were but brave and earnest men;
Do thou but hero-like pursue thy track;

Striving, not sighing, brings them back again.

The hero's path is straight to do and say

God's words and work in spite of toil and shame;
Labors enough will meet thee on thy way,
Do thou forsake it not to seek for them."

MR. EDITOR.-Easter Monday, 1865, is over, and our usually quiet little town has resumed its wonted placidity. I don't know what other towns have done to show their estimation of Easter and its associations, but I know something of what our town has done; and, as "our town" is of some importance, or at least interest, in the eyes of a portion of your readers, I dare say it will not be the death of your Journal if it should hold forth to fame, and admiration, and imitation (?), some of the wondrous deeds, designs, and devices of our natal place.

Ah! Mr. Editor, have you ever had a natal place? Then, you can understand with what affectionate pride we regard our dear little town, nestling among hills which surround it on every side, as though they would fain hide it from the envious and malignant eyes of this wicked world, and its pretty little river running through the midst, the waters thereof are

ever

"Chattering, chattering, as they go To join the brimming ocean.' Not that it is in anxious haste to get away to its whelming bed. Nay, it seems to love our little town; for many a turn and winding does it take ere it takes its final leave, seemingly loath to depart, knowing that once it is gone it may never more return, evidently amoro us of the green slopes and wooded groves which smile upon and shade it, and of the sweet scents and sounds which the soft zephyrs carry in their glowing wings over its heaving bosom, hushing its murmers into soft sighs with their fragrant kisses for a long farewell.

But it is not of our town in its physical features I wish to speak. I have not travelled all over the world, but I dare admit that you might possibly get

other towns, or at any rate, another town, equal to "ours" in these matters. There is nothing abso. lutely unique in our hills, or lawns, or groves, or humming river. I don't know, nor I don't care, whether Ireland or the world could match us in these things. But, surely it is different in the matter of its sovereign people. Surely, Mr. Editor, "our town," that is, the inhabitants of our town, are some. what removed from the common level of ordinary citizens. On this point I am not indifferent. I do not know, to be sure; but I do care most surely. Don't be offended, I pray you; you need not, and you will not.

Mr. Editor, men and boys aren't horses and donkeys; and, if they were, they would still not be steam-engines; and, even if they were, they must needs yet be treated with consideration. "All work and no play," &c. This is an intellectual age. Most modern schemes of social improvement have at least one aspect towards the rational horizon. You cannot work a human being now-a-days from sunrise to sunset all the year round, without running counter to a goodly degree of popular opinion; without in. curring unpleasant opprobrium and ugly epithets. Even in his unhappiest position, Jack now-a-days looks for, and usually receives, a moderate amount of respite, recreation, and amusement. Public opinion produces public spirit, and public spirit of course actuates public men; and in the magnanimous enterprize, our town" is, I should hope, not a whit behind the very chiefest of your burghs; and in the particular manifestation of it which we have just displayed, I should hope that we are far ahead of all cities, states, and kingdoms whatsoever.

Some of your readers were not in our town last week. Well, then, of course I will be telling them real news when I inform them that if they had, they would probably have observed posted up in all the prominent places, placards of arresting execution, announcing to all whom it might interest or concern, that "the inhabitants," &c., "desirous"—" continu. ing"-"good custom"-" innocent amusement"

subscribed"- large sum of money"-" given in prizes;" with various other items of information setting forth more particularly the peculiar philan thropy of the "inhabitants," and the ways and means by which those aspiring to the honor and benefit of the "prizes" might have their wishes gratified. The result was, that all "the natives," far and near, flocked to town, leaving the country to the care of the sick and the lame. Young men and maidens, old men and children, poured in; so that everybody saw everybody else, and the public spirit of all was conspicuously proved. Those who had devised and carried out the scheme met with the success which usually rewards zealous effort. A general holiday had been proclaimed to the over-wrought farmers and their employees, and they all, with seemingly one consent, availed themselves of it, and donning their best attire, came to offer willing tribute to the patriotism and philanthropy of the "inhabitants" who had evinced such a generous consideration and providence in regard to their wants and wishes.

You will be saying now that I am singing my own praise. I am not, however. I entirely disclaim all right to any share in the honor of getting up those fetes. Sure, the placards announcing them declared unequivocally their projection by the "inhabitants," and, of course, I am an inhabitant; and, therefore, it might seem as if I were sounding my own trumpet when I thus venture my feeble breath through that of the "public at large." But then you must remember that the "inhabitants" do not necessarily include all without exception. The big "House" over in London, is said to do many things of which

numbers of its members are entirely innocent. You see there are in all bodies and societies a number of choice spirits who do all the work; but then in their public announcements and records thereof, they must, of course, magnanimously forget their peculiar personal claims, and set forth their doings, not as their own exclusive work, but as the deed of the body in general. Hence it is that many a poor insignificant creature has had the fictitious honor ascribed to him of the execution of many a wise and exalted measure, which, if it had been left to himself, would never have seen the light of existence. Well, I have no wish to wear unmerited honors; and, therefore, I utterly disclaim all share in that of the late proceedings. Indeed, I knew nothing at all about it until I saw the placards. Being but an humble inhabitant, it was not, I suppose, thought necessary to get my concurrence or consent. And I find, too, that I am not the only member of the body civil that the "inhabitants" forgot to consult. In fact, Mr. Editor, the whole thing was quietly managed by the score and odd of our distinguished public men. I should have said publicans, for many of them are women. Whether any one else contributed to "the large sum of money" which was announced to be prepared in sundry prizes for successful competitors, I don't know; possibly some one did; for our town being not free of hawks it is reasonably to be supposed that gulls have not quite disappeared. But, whether or not anybody else helped to bait the hook, one thing is certain, nobody else caught the fish. They may have been assisted in providing the gudgeon-most certainly they were not in drawing the salmon. "And justly enough," some will say. "Justly enough," I re-echo. Zeal ought to be, and generally is, successful. Industry ought to be rewarded. Even the devil himself ought to be paid for his labor. Who, then, would deny the humbler claims of his servants ? Not I, I am sure, Mr. Editor.

In the case before us, I believe this was very generally allowed The design of our venerable town's representatives was truly a grand one, and it suc ceeded capitally. Running races, or even witnessing others doing it, is very dry work-I mean, it is a strong thirst producer-and it is but fit, just, and equitable, that they who have been the occasion of it should provide the wherewithal to allay it. And vice versa, it is equally fit, just, and equitable, that the subjects of the pleasing exhibition should not grudge the patronizing of their disinterested benefactors. Besides, special provision had been made by those philanthropic persons in anticipation of the host of thirsty souls. As in all other cases of a large demand, possible or certain, for their refreshing liquors, they had made extensive arrangements for the furnishing of them to the languishing public, at the least possible expense to themselves. As if alarmed by an enlightened conscience at the possible consequences of dispensing their beverages in their natural state, as if converted to the principles of the "Irish Temperance League" on the subject of whisky, &c., versus water; they laid their heavy tribute upon running streams and springing fountains, thinking it would seem, and thinking truly doubtless, that it would not do their expected customers any harm at all, if a large per centage of their cordials was composed of that particular one which in nature God has given for the refreshment and invigoration of body and mind. To be sure, the benefit derivable from this was a good deal, if not entirely neutralized by the other ingredients wherewith they are obliged to hide their friendly and truly philanthropic action; but then, surely we should have some charity even for publicans. If people won't buy water unless it is

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called whisky, and if they won't believe it is whisky unless it is colored and savored something after the fashion of the genuine article; can you not excuse the unfortunate being, who, placed by his business between the charybdis of a tender conscience and the scylla of stern necessity, is obliged to sell water to spare the one, and yet to color and disfigure it in order to propitiate the other? Is it not better to be a cheat than a conjuror? Is it not better to impose upon other men's simplicity than to trample on your own conscience ? Is it not better to steal by deception than to steal by murder?-unless your deception also kill. At any rate, I was confidently told by a person who had evidently proved the question for himself, that "there wasn't a drop of whisky to be got in all the town; no, not if you would give a shilling a glass for it." I only wish I could believe the good news. Hail! happy riddance! Hail! Easter Monday, 1865! ever to be remembered as the day in which whisky disappeared from our venerable town. But oh! sir, I fear the news is too good to be true. And, after all, I don't know that it would be matter for much unqualified exultation, so long as it was not followed by all its brotherhood of vipers. It were well, doubtless, for the tropics to be rid of the dreadful cobra; but while the rattlesnake asp, jaculus, &c., remained to afflict mankind there would still be evil enough to moderate their joy. But the cobra is not yet extinct in India, and our town is not yet free from the still more malignant serpent-whisky. Yea, even for one day I don't think we got free of its presence. At any rate, its power, or the power of something equally evil, was very extensively manifest towards evening. The sports being over, the orgies began. Perhaps it would be rather harsh for me to say that these latter were the real point aimed at by the spirited projectors of the civil drama? Well, I don't say it. All I say is, there were orgies neither few nor contemptible; and, of course, the authors of the drama repaid the fruits of the play. Verily, we are yet fair and worthy objects of the "League's" best endeavors. Verily, there is yet work enough for the Temperance Society of our town. How many drunk people were tottering about the streets. With what low obeisance did the rapt devotees of Bacchus enter his various temples, and present their offerings of hard-earned money, health, character, conscience, present possessions, future prospects, final contingencies, and everlasting hopes, upon his various shrines. And with what desire and zeal did they imbibe his mingled heart and evil spirit. Hence, you need not wonder that; having received his spirit, they should also walk, act, and speak in his spirit. You need not wonder that their rational was lost in their animal, and only enough of their intellectual left to blaspheme their God and curse their own souls.

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But oh! how sad it is to see this wreck and ruin of the richest treasures on earth. And oh! how doubly sad to see it in those who are just entering upon life, just beginning their "everlasting journey towards their attainable, yet unattainable end." See that knot of boys who are just at the outskirts of the town, going home, I presume, one of them is probably nineteen, the others varying from twelve to fifteen. They are fancying themselves to be grown men. this imaginary manhood they are returning home from town-how ?-"glorious." Evidently, the whole thing is a sham. They have possibly got a little drop, at least, the eldest; but they are by no means actually drunk. They are only acting their fathers and friends; and, doubtless, an essential part of the character is to return home as they are now pretending to do. They are but anticipating the time when they shall be in reality what they can