3. National prosperity and free inst.i.tutions have put into the hands of almost every workman the means of being drunk for a week on the labor of two or three hours. With that blood and that temptation, we have adopted democratic inst.i.tutions, where the law has no sanctions but the purpose and virtue of the ma.s.ses. The statute book rests not on bayonets, as in Europe, but on the hearts of the people.

4. A drunken people can never be the basis of a free government. It is the corner-stone neither of virtue, prosperity, nor progress. To us, therefore, the t.i.tle-deeds of whose estates, and the safety of whose lives depend upon the tranquility of the streets, upon the virtue of the ma.s.ses, the presence of any vice which brutalizes the average ma.s.s of mankind, and tends to make it more readily the tool of intriguing and corrupt leaders, is necessarily a stab at the very life of the nation.

Against such a vice is marshalled the Temperance Reformation.

5. That my sketch is no fancy picture every one of you knows. Every one of you can glance back over your own path, and count many and many a one among those who started from the goal at your side, with equal energy and perhaps greater promise, who has found a drunkard's grave long before this. The brightness of the bar, the ornament of the pulpit, the hope and blessing and stay of many a family--you know, every one of you who has reached middle life, how often on your path you set up the warning, "Fallen before the temptations of the street!"

6. Hardly one house in this city, whether it be full and warm with all the luxury of wealth, or whether it find hard, cold maintenance by the most earnest economy; no matter which--hardly a house that does not count among sons or nephews some victim of this vice. The skeleton of this warning sits at every board. The whole world is kindred in this suffering. The country mother launches her boy with trembling upon the temptations of city life; the father trusts his daughter anxiously to the young man she has chosen, knowing what a wreck intoxication may make of the house-tree they set up.

7. Alas! how often are their worst forebodings more than fulfilled! I have known a case--probably many of you recall some almost equal to it--where one worthy woman could count father, brother, husband, and son-in-law all drunkards--no man among her near kindred, except her son, who was not a victim of this vice. Like all other appet.i.tes, this finds resolution weak when set against the constant presence of temptation.

WENDELL PHILLIPS.

SHERIDAN'S RIDE.

I.

Up from the South at break of day, Bringing to Winchester fresh dismay, The affrighted air with a shudder bore, Like a herald in haste, to the chieftain's door, The terrible grumble and rumble and roar, Telling the battle was on once more, And Sheridan--twenty miles away!

II.

And wilder still those billows of war Thundered along the horizon's bar; And louder yet into Winchester rolled The roar of that red sea uncontrolled, Making the blood of the listener cold, As he thought of the stake in that fiery fray, And Sheridan--twenty miles away!

III.

But there is a road from Winchester town, A good, broad highway leading down; And there, through the flush of the morning light, A steed as black as the steeds of night, Was seen to pa.s.s as with eagle flight-- As if he knew the terrible need, He stretched away with the utmost speed; Hills rose and fell--but his heart was gay, With Sheridan fifteen miles away!

IV.

Still sprung from those swift hoofs, thundering South, The dust, like the smoke from the cannon's mouth, Or the trail of a comet sweeping faster and faster, Foreboding to traitors the doom of disaster; The heart of the steed and the heart of the master Were beating like prisoners a.s.saulting their walls, Impatient to be where the battlefield calls; Every nerve of the charger was strained to full play, With Sheridan only ten miles away!

V.

Under his spurning feet the road Like an arrowy Alpine river flowed, And the landscape sped away behind Like an ocean flying before the wind; And the steed, like a bark fed with furnace ire, Swept on with his wild eyes full of fire.

But lo! he is nearing his heart's desire-- He is snuffing the smoke of the roaring fray, With Sheridan only five miles away!

VI.

The first that the General saw were the groups Of stragglers, and then the retreating troops; What was done--what to do--a glance told him both, Then striking his spurs with a muttered oath, He dashed down the line 'mid a storm of huzzahs, And the wave of retreat checked its course there, because The sight of the master compelled it to pause.

With foam and with dust the black charger was gray; By the flash of his eye, and his red nostril's play, He seemed to the whole great army to say, "I have brought you Sheridan all the way From Winchester down to save the day!"

VII.

Hurrah, hurrah for Sheridan!

Hurrah, hurrah for horse and man!

And when their statues are placed on high, Under the dome of the Union sky-- The American soldier's temple of Fame,-- There, with the glorious General's name, Be it said in letters both bold and bright: "Here is the steed that saved the day, By carrying Sheridan into the fight From Winchester--twenty miles away!"

T. B. READ.

TO A PUPIL.

Is reform needed? Is it through you?

The greater the reform needed, the greater the Personality you need to accomplish it.

You! do you not see how it would serve to have eyes, blood, complexion, clean and sweet?

Do you not see how it would serve to have such a body and soul that when you enter the crowd an atmosphere of desire and command enters with you, and every one is impressed with your Personality?

O the magnet! the flesh over and over!

Go dear friend, if need be give up all else and commence to-day to inure yourself to pluck, reality, self-esteem, definiteness, elevatedness, Rest not till you rivet and publish yourself of your own Personality.

WALT WHITMAN.

_CHAPTER IV._

FORMING PICTURES.

THE PICKWICKIANS ON ICE.

1. "Now," said Wardle, after a substantial lunch, with the agreeable items of strong beer and cherry-brandy, had been done ample justice to, "what say you to an hour on the ice? We shall have plenty of time."

"Capital!" said Mr. Benjamin Allen.

"Prime!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Mr. Bob Sawyer.

"You skate, of course, Winkle?" said Wardle.

2. "Ye--yes; oh, yes!" replied Mr. Winkle. "I--am rather out of practice."

"Oh, do skate, Mr. Winkle," said Arabella. "I like to see it so much!"

"Oh, it is so graceful!" said another young lady.

A third young lady said it was elegant, and a fourth expressed her opinion that it was "swan-like."

3. "I should be very happy, I am sure," said Mr. Winkle, reddening; "but I have no skates."

This objection was at once overruled. Trundle had got a couple of pair, and the fat boy announced that there were half a dozen more down-stairs; whereat Mr. Winkle expressed exquisite delight, and looked exquisitely uncomfortable.

4. Old Wardle led the way to a pretty large sheet of ice; and, the fat boy and Mr. Weller having shovelled and swept away the snow which had fallen on it during the night, Mr. Bob Sawyer adjusted his skates with a dexterity which to Mr. Winkle was perfectly marvellous, and described circles with his left leg, and cut figures of eight, and inscribed upon the ice, without once stopping for breath, a great many other pleasant and astonishing devices, to the excessive satisfaction of Mr. Pickwick, Mr. Tupman, and the ladies; which reached a pitch of positive enthusiasm when old Wardle and Benjamin Allen, a.s.sisted by the aforesaid Bob Sawyer, performed some mystic evolutions, which they called a reel.

5. All this time Mr. Winkle, with his face and hands blue with the cold, had been forcing a gimlet into the soles of his feet, and putting his skates on with the points behind, and getting the straps into a very complicated and entangled state, with the a.s.sistance of Mr. Snodgra.s.s, who knew rather less about skates than a Hindoo. At length, however, with the a.s.sistance of Mr. Weller, the unfortunate skates were firmly screwed and buckled on, and Mr. Winkle was raised to his feet.

6. "Now, then, sir," said Sam, in an encouraging tone, "off with you, and show 'em how to do it."

"Stop, Sam, stop!" said Mr. Winkle, trembling violently, and clutching hold of Sam's arms with the grasp of a drowning man. "How slippery it is, Sam!"