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wrong III lmItIng that authority to the in- 1 stigation of great and heroic aetions.- l Mine IS said ia Scripture to make glad tk, heart of man Wine Is said by the poets

 10 be the balm of grief. the dew of beauty, the philter of love. What that is gracious 1 and graceful IS ii not said to be? Gus tering grapes entwine the brow of it's divin- "; and wine Is held to be hbation wor- thy of the gods. Fools fools! fools !-- they need to have poured forth their blood and tears like me, to know that it Is foun- tain of eternal damnaton Do not fancy that l auude to DRUNKENNESS; do not class me in your imagination, with the sen- { sual brute who degrades himself to the flthDess of intoxieation. Against vice so fragrant, how easy 10 arm one's virtue

 No! the true danger lies many degrees within that fearful limit; and the Spartans, who warned theT sons against wine by the exhibition of their drunken Helots, ful- :! filled their duty blindly. Drunkenness 1 implies, in fact, an extinction of the very faculties of evil. The enleebled arm can deal no mortal blow; the staggering step l retards the perpetration of sin. The voice can neither modulate its tones to seduction, nor hufl the defiance ot deadly hatred. 1 The drunkard is an idiot: thing which children mock at, and woman chastise. It is the man whose temperament is excited, not oyerpowered, by wine, to whom the snare is fatalF'

 ''0nly when unconscious of his inirmi- 1 ty," said biuntly.

 Shakespeare makes Cassie conscious, but not till his fault is achieved"

 "Cassio is the victim of designing tenn per; out an ordinary man aware of his frailty, must surely find 1t easy to avoid the mischief?"

 " Easg, as we look upon the thing from hence, with the summers sky over our heads, the unshactled ocean at our feet, and the

 nockery of the scorner unheard; but, in the animation of a conviyial meeting, with cooler heads to mslead ns by example, nn- der the influence of conversation, music, mirth, arho can at all times remember by how short process 1t turns to poison in hls veins Do not suppose me the Apos- tie of Temperance Society, when as- sert, on my life, my soul. my honor, that afler three glasses of wine. ] am no longer saasief of fnv ael;eas. lXitheut being IT the moment conscious of the charge. I be- gin to see, and feel, and hear. and reason differently. The minor transitions between good and evil are forgotten; the lava boiIs n my bosom. Three more and become ] q madman',

 $ But this constitutes positive physical infirmity," said I. {" You must of course regard yourself as an exception 2''

 No! am convinced the case IS com- mon. Among my own acquaintance, I know iiifv men who are pleasant compan- ions in the morning, but ntoierabie after dinner ;.men who neither like wine nor in- dulge in ii; but who, while simply fulfilling the forms and ceremonies of society, fre- quently become odious to others, and burthen to themselves.

 ''l really believe you are right.o ''l know that am right; listen: When l became your brother's friend at Westmin- fer, was on the foundations ,-an only son, in- tended for the Church and the importance which my father and mother attached to my election for college, added such a stim- ulus to my eXertions that, at the early age of fourteen, their wish was accomplished. ] was the first boy of my years. student ship at Chrstchurch crowned my highest ambition; and all that remained for me at Westminster was to preside over the fare- well supper, indispensable on occasions of these triumphs. | was unaccustomed to wine. for my parents had probably taken silent note of the infrmity of my nature and very small proportion of the fiery tavern port, which forms the nectar of simi- lar festivities, sufiiced to elevate my spirits 1 to madness. Heated by noise and intem- perance, we all sallied forth together, pre- pared to riot, bully, insult. A fight ensued, life was lost. Expulsion suspended my election. never reached Oxford; my pro- fessIonal prospects were blighted; and with 1 Tn few months, my father died of the dis 1 appointment And now, what was to be done with me? My guardians decided that in the army the influence of my past fault would prove least injurious and. eager to escape the tacit reproach of my poor mothers pale face and gloomy weeds. I gladly acceded to their advice. At fif- teen, I was gazetted in the -th Regiment of Light Dragoons.'' "At least you have no cause to regret the change of profcssion?" said I, with a sail lor's prejudice against parsonic cloth.

 "I did regret it. A family living was waiting for me and had accustomed my q self to the thoughts of early independence s md settled home. Inquire of my friend $ Richard, on your return to England, and c