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Yorkshire Humphrey......

“You can't come in, Sir".

..Anon.

. Anon.

18

151

FROSE

Anger and Enumeration ..... .... .James M. Bailey 129

Beer Delusion, A; or drinking for an appetite.J. W. Kirton

81

Call to Labour, A

Rev. Jas. Smith, M.A. 97

Contest for Life, A

Rev G. H. Hepworth . 65

Good time coming, The

Rev. R. J. Lynd.... 145

Multitude of Littles, The .

Rev. Newrian Hall 161

Our Warfare and our Duty

T. L. Cuyler, D.D. .. 49

Prevention or Cure --Which ?

..John B. Gough.

2

Put out that fire......

Wm, M. Taylor, D.D. 177

Terrible Responsibility, A

.J. 0. Peck D.D...... 113

True Help.

Rev. Dr. Talmage.... 17

We have not begun to fight yet

. Bishop Fallows, D.D. 33

ONWARD RECITER.

THE CAPTIVE.

MRS. E. C. A. ALLEN.

ROSTRATE, despoiled, debased, felled to the ground ;

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See the poor victim lie shorn of his might, -
Helpless to rise and fly :-powerless to fight!
Who is he? Ah! they know who love him well.
Lips, trembling with their woe, sad tales can tell.
Tell, of Life's morning bright; years long since fled, -
When Hope with rays of light circled his head.
Tell how by talents grand fitted to rise,
Fame with ungrudging hand gave him her prize :
Tell of the promise fair, glowing with light,
Now quenched in dark despair: plunged in black night.
Not on the battle plain, covered with glory
Fell he amidst brave men; heroes of story :
All that was great in him strong drink hath spoiled;
All that was good in him sin hath defiled.

Ah! that some voice could reach down to his heart !
Ah! that some power could teach new life to start!
Ah! that some arm could break Drink's iron chain,
And the poor captive make freeman again!
Could be from ruin's edge start up and shrink,-
Could he but sign the pledge,-banish the drink,-
Then might the cry resound “Praise to the Lord !
He that was lost is found, raised and restored !”

God of the Temperance host! give as Thy might,
Teach us to save the lost ! lead us aright.
Hasten the blessed day when our fair land,
Free from the tyrant's sway, glorious shall stand I

2

Prevention or Curewhich ?

a

66

PREVENTION OR CURE—WHICH ?

JOHN B. Gough. "" work

save a drunkard. It is worth a life-effort to lift.a man from degradation. · It is worth a mighty self-sacrifice to lift a man up and enable him to stand as a man, shaken free from his debasement and his fetters. But to prevent his fall is far better.

A boy when asked, “ Would you tell a lie for fifty dollars ?” replied, No; because when the dollars are gone the lie will stick.” Though we may reform a man from drunkenness, no one can ever fully recover from the effects of years of dissipation and intemperance. You put your hand in the hand of a giant, and he crushes it. You shriek in your agony, and by and by, with a desperate effort, you draw forth your hand. It is crushed, and torn, and mangled, and bleeding. That hand may be at last healed; but it will be a mutilated hand as long as you live. And so a man may be cured of this evil of drunkenness; but the marks are upon him, and will be to the day of his death. Therefore it is a greater work to prevent than it is to cure, and prevention is the work in which we are engaged.

No one would suppose that there would be opposition to this work ; but there are some persons who oppose everything that does not suit their own narrow views, or that they themselves have not suggested, and so there is opposition. The great objection seems to be that these children are led and enticed to sign the pledge without appealing to their understanding. Sir Walter Scott once said: “It is all folly to talk of writing down to the capacity of children. Give them something to grasp after, and they will grasp that which will astonish you." We often hear shrewd remarks from children, and we call them

haphazard,” but they are not.

I knew two boys very well. One of them was about ten years old. His name was Willie and the other's was Jamie. Jamie was seated on a doorstep whittling a stick, as Yankee boys do. The other boy, Willie, had caught a fly, and, holding it in his fingers, he said: “What a queer thing a fly is, isn't it? Just look at its legs. Look at its wings. When I blow him he'll buzz! Ain't it queer? I wonder how God made him.” That has been a wonder to many. Professor Huxley cannot answer that question. No scientist can. “ Jamie, how do you suppose God made a fly?” The little fellow, whittling away at his stick, said: “Why, Willie, God don't make things

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