he toddy, and the flip, as they grow up! Is here no danger that
the temptation will prove too strong for them? _Can a man take fire in
his bosom, and his clothes not be burned? Can one go upon hot coals, and
his feet not be burned?_ And what compensation for the intemperance of a
wife, or a child, would be the highest profits of an orchard, a field of
rye, or a distillery? Oh, to be a drunkard is to destroy the soul as
well as the body: and _what shall a man give in exchange for his soul?_
And are you yourselves in no danger of intemperance, plied as you are by
so many allurements? Look around you and see how many strong men, how
many of the wise, the moral, the amiable, and the apparently pious, have
fallen before the fascinations of this prince of serpents. And are you
safe who stand even within the reach of his forky tongue, and lay the
bait for his victims, and lure them into his jaws by tasting of it
yourselves? Oh, the history of distillers and temperate drinkers, in
their last days, furnishes an awful warning for you.

But there is another danger before you, of which, as a faithful friend,
I wish to forewarn you. I see a dark storm gathering over your heads.
You cannot be ignorant of the mighty movement that is making in our land
on the subject of temperance. You must have felt the heavy concussion,
and heard the rolling thunder. The religious, the moral, the patriotic,
the learned, and the wise, as intemperance has been developing its huge
and hateful features more and more, have been aroused to effort; they
have closed together in a firm phalanx; and as they move on with the
standard of _total abstinence_ waving before them, the great, and the
good, and the valiant of every name, are swelling their ranks. The cry
is waxing louder and louder, "Where are the strong holds of the monster;
point out to us the fountains that supply his insatiable thirst, and who
it is that feeds them; and who it is that opens the enormous floodgates?
and thither we will march, and against such men will we point our
heaviest artillery." And to this cry there is an answer more and more
distinctly breaking out: "To the distilleries--to the distilleries." My
friends, wait not till this storm of public indignation bursts upon you,
nor fancy that you can face it. Oh, no; it will be a steady, fiery
blast, that will bear you down; and you will find that none but the
dregs of the community will be left with you to sustain you. You will be
left