he evils of intemperance. It cannot be necessary to paint the
bitter consequences--the destruction to property, health,
reputation--the overthrow of the peace of families, the want and
misery, to which its victims are frequently reduced. The disgrace,
the wretchedness, the ruin, the useless and ignominious life, and
the horrid death, which are so often caused by habits of
intemperance, are seen, and known to all. No one attempts, no one
thinks of denying them. The most interested dealer, or retailer in
intoxicating drinks--the most confirmed inebriate--will acknowledge
without hesitation, that intemperance is the direst evil that ever
cursed a fallen race!! The deleterious consequences of other vices
may sometimes be concealed for a season, from outward observation.
Not so with intemperance. It writes its loathsome name, in legible
characters, upon the very brow of its wretched victim. _"I am a
drunkard!"_ is as plainly to be read as though a printed label was
posted there!

Need I warn--need I exhort--the young to avoid the habit of
intemperance. Perhaps there is not a youth present, who is not ready
to say, "To me this exhortation is needless. I have not the
slightest expectation of becoming a drunkard!" Of course not. There
never was a man who desired, or expected, to become a victim to
intemperance. The great danger of this habit is, that it creeps
stealthily and imperceptibly upon the unwary. It does its work
gradually. The most besotted inebriate cannot tell you the day, nor
the month, when he became a confirmed drunkard. It is in the nature
of this habit, that those who expose themselves at all to its
assaults, become its victims, while they are entirely unaware of it.

The only safeguard and security, against this scourge of man, is
_total abstinence from all intoxicating drinks_!! Here is the true,
the safe ground for the young. There is no other condition of entire
security. No man who drinks, however sparingly, has assurance of
a sober life. He needlessly, and foolishly, places himself in
danger--turns his footsteps into the only path that can possibly
lead to the drunkard's ruin and the drunkard's grave!

Drink the _first drop_ that can intoxicate, and your feet stand at
the very brink of the ocean of intemperance. Its briny waters are
composed of human tears. Its winds, the sighs of those made poor and
wretched by the inebriation of husbands, fathers, sons. Its billows,
ever tossing, are overhung with b