and the good around them. They have been sustained in their new position by every thing, by the easy opportunity of acting well, and the silent but sure encouragement of their whole community. There is nothing of the imaginative in this simple history. I have spoken only the words of truth and soberness. So true has it been that intemperance has wholly ceased in such places, that if by chance a drunkard should be met with in them, it has been at once said, and proved as quickly, that he is a stranger, a vagrant, from some border town or village, into which the reform has not yet penetrated.

I said, this account of what the reform has proposed for the class of the intemperate now described, and of the means which it has employed to accomplish its purpose towards them, deserved a distinct place in these remarks. No one who gives it the consideration it deserves, will doubt this. The account places beyond question a truth which the reform especially wishes to spread far and wide, viz. the moral power which is possessed by all those who will advocate this cause, and the moral power which remains even to the most intemperate, upon which the reform feels and knows it may act. It is a mistake then, and a very great one too, into which many have fallen, that the reform only or mainly proposes to prevent intemperance. It has another, and no less solemn and important ministry. This is to restore to temperance those who have fallen, who are the most fallen. To raise them again to the high places of virtue, of prosperity, and happiness, and to sustain them there by all the direct and indirect influences which a kindred virtue may, and always does exert. Let this be distinctly and universally understood. It is due to the reform that it should be so understood, else half of its purpose is unknown.

These means have been applied in particular places, and where circumstances were so favorable as to secure their success. But for this same class, as well as for the two others enumerated, in places not so circumstanced, large cities for instance, in which the diversities of interest, and 'difference of feeling have prevented such attempts thus far, various other means have been in steady operation. Such, for example, are public discourses,-debates,-tracts and pamphlets, in almost every variety of form, and number,personal and direct application to the intemperate themselves; and lastly, and perhaps chiefly, the open, uncompro

mising example of total abstinence displayed by the friends of the reform every where, these should all be specially enumerated as among the means which have been of the most extensive application, and which have resulted in a vast good. Every temperate man, whether so from mere habit, or from strict principle, has been either an indirect, or a direct means, in the daily and constant employment of this reform. He has been part and parcel of that vast moral machinery which has been put into operation in our day; and the momentum which he has alike received and imparted, has, in the truest and highest sense, contributed to its ceaseless activity and wide success.

From the foregoing particulars the nature of the temperance reform may be easily gathered. It is the moral power of a community, or of a nation, distinctly and efficiently directed to a single specific object. Its extent and its dignity are inferences from its nature. So many men have perhaps never before so emphatically enrolled themselves for the accomplishment of any purpose. Certainly so many, and such men, have never appeared as the advocates of a cause in which they personally had less direct interest. They have felt indeed, and very strongly, that interest in it which good men have, and always should have, in every plan for securing a wide good. But this has been the limit of the interest. The dignity of this reform is a like property of its nature. If it call and press into its ranks the wise and good every where, it is felt that the service is a solemn and highly responsible one. This dignity attaches to the reform as an element in its constitution. It is the elevation which of necessity belongs to every purpose of great beneficence, and without ever being referred to as a motive for entering into its labors, or for imbibing its spirit, it gives character to every proper effort which is made for its progress. A man feels sure, that in this cause he is acting from a high motive, and is seeking and laboring to do a great good. He in short becomes identified with the cause itself; a pleasure comes to be attached to his toils, which is their unconscious reward, and a motive for perseverance is for ever present, which makes exertion most grateful. The nature of this reform is thus truly moral and intellectual. It belongs alike to the mind, and to the heart-the affections and the intellect. It is impossible that it should be selfish, and yet it is felt that it wants no such attribute to secure to it either undiminished activity, or unchecked progress.

We come in the next place to a very important inquiry, viz. the principles upon which the temperance reform has thus far proceeded, and which it regards as fundamental. Some of these have been already involved in the present discussion, and it would not have been easy to speak of its nature without adverting with more or less particularity to them. Thus we have seen that the reform began with temperance in the use of ardent spirits, and would seem to have looked to the accomplishment of its true purpose in the prevention of intemperance. Next we found a new principle introduced, that of total abstinence. After this came the pledge. It has been shown how successful has been the operation of these principles. They were adopted after a careful investigation of the whole ground; and I shall, in the next place, point out from what considerations they came finally to be fully recognized as fundamental.

It is well known to all those who early attended to the subject, that, originally, a principal reason for temperance was the liability to excess. It was thought that there was no necessary evil involved in moderate drinking-that the body and mind were alike safe from harm while the limit of moderation was strictly observed. Nay more, the opinion was quite general that the vigor of both mind and body was increased by such use, and a man could do more bodily labor, and use his mind to much more advantage when aided by stimulating drinks than by avoiding their use. Now these were settled convictions in the minds of the multitude of men, and they had been acted upon for ages with most lamentable results. It was felt, yes, fully understood and acknowledged, that it would become necessary to increase the quantity, to exceed the limit of moderation, as the indulgence was the longer practised; but so long as absolute drunkenness was avoided, there was felt to be no need for recommending abstinence. This state of the public opinion, and that too among men not very accessible, the laboring classes, and their employers, presented a serious obstacle to the progress of the reform. Here was personal interest largely engaged on the side, if not of intemperance, of a habit in many, almost a majority, which would end in its most confirmed forms. Here, too, was habit itself on the side of intemperance, for such it was in the great concerns of health and strength, although the individuals might have moral force sufficient to save themselves from open drunk

enness.

The reform met this grave case in the only way in which it could be successfully encountered, viz. by direct experiment. The question was not allowed to rest on what the supposed interested reformer might say on the true value of abstinence to all concerned, to the laborer, and to him who employed him. But experiments were instituted on a scale too large to leave any doubt as to the decision; and it was proved, most satisfactorily proved, that ardent spirits did not give strength to the body, or useful vigor to the mind. We have the results of these experiments in the recorded facts obtained from the farmer, the mechanic, the ship-master, the ship-owner, the high departments of the general government, the secretaries of war and of the navy, all, all teaching this great truth, and giving an authority to this reform alike important to itself, and most honorable to those who have furnished it. This single paragraph contains in it a truth of inestimable value. Who can bring it distinctly before him, and think of it in itself, and its wide relations, without giving to the whole subject his most serious consideration, and aiding it with his best powers? The principle has thus been fully established, that the use of ardent spirits is not necessary for either continued or successful labor of any kind.

This

The establishment of this principle was a great step, not in itself merely, or principally, but in what immediately followed. Was the use of ardent spirits simply and wholly useless? Was there not something else, and more important, connected with their comparatively temperate use? question could not be directly settled by experiment, as was the first. Observation was appealed to, and this has fully established one highly important principle, viz. that the use of ardent spirits mainly as a refreshment, and to enable a man to continue his labor, is injurious, seriously hurtful to particular organs or parts of the body, and through the injury done to them, hurtful to the whole frame. A very brief, and perfectly intelligible, reference to one or two facts in the physical constitution of man, will suffice to show how ardent spirits are injurious.

What most obviously distinguishes a living form from all other forms of matter, is its motion, its activity, its energy. We are so familiar with all this, that it hardly ever excites even a passing remark. Still it is the great external distinguishing mark of the living being. Let us speak of it as

manifested by man. In man action depends on two things, power in the instruments of motion, and will to direct them in the use of that power. Now perfect health consists in perfect harmony of the instruments, the power, and the will. While this harmony is preserved, the individual may accomplish with ease, nay, with pleasure, as much of labor of any and all kinds, as is consistent with his entire safety. He finds himself disposed to exert his whole powers both of body and mind, as ready instruments to aid him in all his exertions. What is thus true of the actions that are visible, and of which we are in a sense always conscious, is equally true of those internal operations, actions, or functions, as they are sometimes called, on which we depend every moment of our lives for the continuance of our very being. These actions have of course organs which perform them, and these organs have a power on which that performance every where and every moment depends. All these are alike most healthful when a similar harmony prevails among them, as was stated to be necessary for the fullest health of the organs of motion first referred to.

What now are the effects of the popular forms of alcohol in use upon this living organization? What have been demonstrated to be these effects? Alcohol, in a few words, increases the action at the expense of the power. More may, for a time, be done with their use, but ultimately the power comes to be wasted. At length the instruments themselves become enfeebled; they resist imperfectly the causes which are always operating for their injury and destruction. The instruments at length become altered themselves. They grow disproportionate to each other. Some acquire great size, some are wasted. Some, again, become hard, nay, acquire almost a bony hardness, while others lose their natural firmness, and degenerate into a soft, almost half-organized structure. The blood-vessels are deeply injured, and their proper coat loses the beautiful smoothness and softness, the delicate whiteness of health, and degenerate into yellow, thick, rough tubes; and the blood which they heavily circulate, has lost some of its characteristic properties, and alike wasted in its strength with the whole body, is watery and almost useless. Fat accumulates around the internal organs, and obstructs most important functions, while the whole surface of the body, with the features themselves, suffers in the general deterioration.