IF~ ~~~~~~~ __             I 
____      P                 "I'~~~~~~
_ _  _                        V~ II
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ i, i      c;
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _?I
~~~il~~~~~~i;~~~~~~~ ~ ~




FOU~RTH'IIOUSA.ND.
DICK WILSON)
THE RUMISELLER'S VICTIM
ORP
HUMANITY PLEADING FOR THE
6 "AINL LAW."
BY JOHN K. CORNYN.
WITI- AN INTRODUCTION, BY THURLOW W. BROWN.
AUBURN:
DERBY & MILLER.
BUFFALO: DERBY, ORTON & MULLIGAN,
CINCINNATI: HENRY W. DERBY,




Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1853,
BY JOHN K. CORNYN,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the Northern District
of New York.
STERFJOTYP E  BY
THIOMAS B. SMITHE
216 William St. N. Y,




THERE was a time in the history of the Temperance reformnation, when it would have been necessary, in presenting a
work upon this subject to the public, to have fortified it well
with apologies.  That time, however, under the influence of
the light "4twhich shineth more and more unto the perfect
day," has passed, and it is no longer a work of doubtful propriety.  This question has passed successfully through all thle
stages of progressive, revolution, and wherever a new  era
dawned upon it, there it erected its altar, offered its sacrifice
of thanks to God, and marched on.  Where is it now? in
the keeping of comparatively the few?  No! it has become
the question with the masses-the question of the age.  It is
backed up, wished and prayed for, in every circle, save that in
which the ruinseller rules.
It has gathered to its aid every variety of talent, and this
has been made doubly effective, by the knowledge of the fiact,
that it was set for the defence of virtue and innocence.
Still the work is not yet accomplished.  Its vaunting enemy,
who would, if it were possible, establish a Divine righlt to roll
on his death-fieighted car, is not idle.  -He is wary-cuc nning
-subtle  as his ancient,prototype, who said, "y Ye shall be as




ivtp                    PREFACE.
gods.J Money is dispersed freely —men are bought and sold,
wherever there is an opportunity to do so-elections are contrOlled, and legislatures are overawed by them, and it is only
in thie broad clear face of the people's sovereignty, which has
always been the terror of tyrants, that they see their merited
For an encounter of this kind, earnest, determined, unyielding humanity is gathering up its armor.  It is not without a
witness as to what it can accomplish, when fairly marshalled
for legislative strife. The "' Maine Law" is the battle cry, and
anything and everything which will tend to throw light upon
the deformities of this shapeless monster, and waken the public
mind to greater effort in this cause, will be of service.  It is
with this view that the story of Dick'Wilson is offered to the
public by the
THu AUTHOR




CO 0NTENTS.
[AGH
INTRODUCTION     o
CHAPTER 1.
FUTUTRE PLANS AND PROSPECTS                        o      o, ~5
CHAPTER II.
NEWS F10RM HOmlE-A SAD CHANGE          o O   
CHAPTER III.
LE3AVINGO A DESOLATEID HEOME
CHAPTER I-V.
THE CONTRAST AND ITS CAUSE                                     S 8
CHAPTER V.
THE CONTRAST AND ITS CAUSE (CONTINUED).           9
CHAPTER VI.
RUMSELLERS.-CAUSES AND CONSEQUENOES  o  




vi                        CONTENTS.
CHAPTER VII.
PAO S
PRACTICAL SYMPATY —DIFFERENCE IN CHARArACEER  124
CIIAPTER VIII.
NEJW HOME-ITS CHARACTER —iTS DNGE,                         142
CHAPTER IX.
TEuMPELRANCE MEETING ANDI ITS ]RESULTS.                  160
CHAPTER X.
RUMMIES IN C(OUNCIL-TiEmI  DOINGS                            I  O 15
CHAPTER XL
THE PARTY-THE SNARE-THE ESCAPE., 191
CHAPTER XII.
THE TE STEM R F[OILED.,, 218
CHAPTER XIII.
THE  MAINE LAW-LEGISLATIVE JUGGLING           J.   J        230
CHAPTER XIV.
THE DROVER'S GRAVE-" MURDER WILT, OUT,, 246




CONTENTS.                        Vii
CHAPTER XV.
PAGIE
THE GUILTY TREMBLE.-I DICK'S PROSPECTS O                 o 259
CHAPTER XVI.
THiE PLOT-THE VICTIM.  275
CHAPTER XVII.
DUTY~ AND PLEASURE   O   O                                292
CHAPTER XVIII.
KATE HAMILTON AND  IRS. WILSON         a  o   o 04
CHAPTER XIX.
WHAT RUM DoEs        O           O                        323
CHAPTER XX.
Trvp REFORMED RUMSELLER,                       o. 342
CHAPTER XXI.
FLYING FROM TEMPTATION.   O                             352
CHAPTER XXII.
THE LOST FOUND....                   868




viii                     CONTENTS.
CHAPTER XXIIIo
PAGE
THE EFFECT —THE CAUSE-THE REMEDY          O   o  382
CHAPTER XXIV.
THE MISSION OF LoVE  389
CHAPTER XXV.
THE JOURNEY AND ITS RESULTS                                3 o  99
CHAPTER XXVI.
THE "IMAINE LAW" OUR ONLY HOPE-CONCLUSION                  415




I it t   i  I Z it r  ( I1
Fon forty days and forty nights the rain poured
down from the open windows of the heavens, until
the flood covered the earth, and the sun, after the
storm, smiled down upon the watery waste, where a
world lay entombed. Solitary and alone, without
helm, mast, or sail, like a speck on the world-wide
ocean, floated the.ark with its freight.  The olive
branch, borne upon a weary but glad wing, proclaimed
the subsiding of the deluge. The sunbeams kissed
the vapors as they rolled up from the retiring waters,
and the bow of promise lifted its arch into the clouds.
Noah went out and planted a vineyard. He partook of its fruits, and lay in his tent in the slumbers
of drunkenness. The frailties of a good man, are
used to justify the drinking usages of to-day. The
scourge of a world passed away, had commenced its
progress again in the new. From  that vineyard the
tide has swept on, gathering in depth and power, until the debris of human ruin has been left on every
shore where human foot has trodden. Stream  has
mingled with stream, and wave followed wave, until
every land and people have been scourged. In the




X  INTRODUCTION.
hamlet, the city, the country, or wilderness, the influence has been the same. Nations have been drunken
to madness. New woes and keener sorrows have
been sent out to stalk through the world, followed by
red-handed crime and ghastly death. Beneath those
oblivious waves, the brightest hopes of earth and
heaven have gone down; and up and down the world
the stricken millions have wasted away, and prematurely mingled with a mother dust. North, east, south
and west, the plague has spread. The white sails of
commerce have borne it across oceans. The pioneer
has carried it across the wilderness. The trader has
scaled the mountain range, and thus, in civilized and
savage clime, the noon-day scourge has sped on in its
mission of ruin. In the hut of the savage, or where
science, letters and art have elevated and refined, the
effects have been the same. The very heart of human society has been poisoned, until along every artery of health and strength, the hot currents have
swept in their blighting power. The shadow has fallen
across every hearth-side, and at the altar's base; and
lingered there like the footprints of unutterable woe.
Every house has had one dead in it-every circle has
been broken. Homes are ruined and deserted, and
fields turned to waste. The wife and the children are
driven out from the home-roof, and to-day the mothers of America, like ZNiobe of old, as they weep at
their broken altars, are attempting to shield their offspring from the shafts which fall thickly around, and
quiver in the tender hearts they love. It is Intemperance that we speak of; the history of whose deso



INTRODUCTION.               Xl
lations has outstripped the wildest imagery of tragic
fiction, and laughed to scorn the efforts of the tongue,
pen, or pencil. If hell has one more potent enginery
of human degradation and crime upon earth than another, it is Intemperance. It's very sound sends a thrill
back to the heart, and a Gorgon monster slowly rises
up from its heart of blood among the graves.
The gloomy night of Intemperance long rested
upon the world, and no day-star in the horizon. The
death slumber was deep and profound. Like the fabled city which was petrified into stone, no trumpet
blast rang out to awaken to life. Woe and Want went
hand in hand, Vice and Violence stalked unobstructed,
and Crime laughed and reeled in its drunkenness of
blood. Alone in the sky, the malign light of the
death-beacon followed man from the cradle to the grave.
The monster sat at every gathering. At the birth,
marriage, or death; in the home, shop, or field; at the
social re-union, or the festive day —in hut, palace, or
council-hall, it plied its work. The mother fed rum
to her babe with her own hand, or through the resources of life. The fair young bride stood at the altar
in the light of her bright life-dream, and handed the
goblet to him she had chosen to accompany in the pilgrimage of life. At the social board, the father followed the marriage prayer with a glass. In the silence
of the night, where the living had just passed to the
rest of death, the decanter kept its watch with the
watchers. The friends of the deceased came to look
once more upon the dead, and stopped at the sideboard as they passed out. The pall-bearers tipped the




INTRODUCTION.
bqttle and bore away their burden to the home in the
elurchyard. The father of the writer once lost a
loved young brother. With a heart heavy with grief,
he took the jug, and at the rumshop, which was beggaring the family, purchased rum to treat the friends
at the funeral. What wonder, then, that Intemperance, like the red plough-share of ruin, went under
every hearth.
A missionary once found a heathen mother in tears.
She wrung her hands as she left her hot kisses upon
the bloodless lips of a beautiful child, calm in the
slumbers of death. The little treasure had been bitten by a serpent. The woman was one of the serpentworshippers, and the reptile, whTich had robbed her of
her first and only child, lay coiled at the hearthside
of the home it had made desolafe, safe from the avengfiag hand of the superstitious mother.  She would
not destroy it. Need we wonder at the superstition of
the benighted heathen?  To-day, America is a nation
of serpent-worshipers.  We look around us, and how
many -hormes are there where the serpent is coiled, yet
madly cherished by those who have mourned the
loved and the good, poisoned to death by its fangs I
And at the same time we see a great and free people
hesitating about crushing these serpents! The darker
rites and fearful religion of the poor Pagan can but
share our sympathies.
We are proud of our country and its institutions.
There is no land like our land; no people like our people; no lakes like our lakes; no streams like our
streams; no prairies like our prairiesd or mountains




INTRODUCTION.                 Xlnl
like our mountains, as they sit upon a contilient and
nod to each other in the clouds. American enterprize
and American genius, inventive and literary, is startling a world from its slumbers.  The he art of our Republic throbs upon two shores; and yet, at the heart
of all our free institutions a cancer is tuggiing with
never-resting energy. For its removal, Christians and
philanthropists are marshalling.
It is obut little over one-quarter of a century since
a land so favored groaned in bondage unbroken.  No
light had broke in: no star had beamed out to guide
our wise m1en to a Savlour. lHumanity wept over the
desolations.  Patriotism saw its first stars pale and set
in dcarlkness. Religion saw its most gi-led ones fall to
rise no more. Tlle strongest were in shackles, and
the friend of his country and of man looked out sadly upon the scene, and saw no morning light in the
dark night. Foreigners stigmatized us as a nation of
drunkards. Thus, unobstructed, the work went on.
The great deep of popular opinion had not been stirred by a single breath, but lay in its stillness until
miasma had bred in its sluggish bosom, and rolled up
to sicken and destroy. The thunder of popular will
slumbered uninvoked in the ballot-box, or like the
three-mouthed dog of hell, sleeplessly guarded the
wrongs there entrenched.  A  scourge was abroad in
the land, yet a free and Christian people slept over
their wrongs, and yielded without an effort, to the annual conscription of Intemperance.
But a better era was to dawn upon our country.
A brazen serpent was lifted. The trumpet blasts of




Xiv              INTRODUCTION.
a Beecher and a Kittridge startled the petrified city
into life. The plume tossed in the conflict, the warhorse plunged and chafed, and in the light of the coming morning the BANNER OF TEMPERANCE rolled out
like a beacon of hope and promise to gladden a world.
A breath has swept the valley of Iinnom, and the
sleepers arise. The ocean is swept by the storm, and
hope springs up in the human heart. The light comes
slowly, but it bears healing upon its wings, and heralds redemption to a rum-scourged world. There is
joy in heaven and upon earth. The mother weeps
tears of joy, and clasps her child to her bosom with a
prayer of gratitude for the promise which speaks of a
better day for her and hers. And so the great moral
revolution has commenced-a war of extermination,
ending only when the rum traffic shall exist no longer. A free people are girding for the conflict with a
hoary curse, saying to its armies, as they wage the
strife from pillar to pillar-" Thus far, and no farther."
The history of the Temperance Reformation is not
yet written. The strife is yet in progress. But that
history will occupy the brightest pages of our country's annals, and command the admiration of the world.
We look back with a full heart and kindling eye upon
that history. There is a moral sublimity and beauty
in the record. It is like the beaming of the setting
sunlight across the ocean. Storms may have swept
the surface, and its waves dashed angrily upon the
shore; but in its calm there is a wake of crimson and
gold-a beautiful pathway, where angels might tread.
The course of our reform has been marked by the




N TilRO) UCTION'.            xv
most important results. It has carried blessings to
myriads of hearts and homes. There is an angel in
its waters, and peace, happiness and hope spring up
where desolation has withered up the greenness of
earth. It is destined to revolutionize the sentiment
of a world. It enlists all that is lovely and noble in
the human heart-the eloquence of poetry, and the
inspiration of genius; the fervor of patriotism, and
the zeal of religion. Its principles are as plain to the
mind as the sun at mid-day, and as just as God. It is
the gospel of redemption to a ruin-cursed world —the
John the Baptist of the Christian religion. Like
the Christian religion, its fruits bear full evidence of
its blessed character. When John heralded the coming of the Saviour, he did not startle the world by the
brilliancy of his promises. He did not announce that
Christ was coming with a crown of gold upon his
head and a monarch's sceptre in his hand, with legions
of conquering warriors bristling in armor, and in his
train the kings and princes-the rich, and powerful,
and elite of earth. No: the dumb should speak, the
deaf should hear, the blind see, the lame walk, the
dead be raised, and the gospel be preached to the poor.
And thus along the pathway of Christianity, wherever its spirit has gained a foothold, there are eloquent
records of its principles and influences. So with the
Temperance Reform. The heralds did not announce
that the fashionable and the wealthy, the titled great,
the monied aristocracy of the land, would exclusively
lend it their countenance. But the blind have seen,
the deaf have heard, the stone has been rolled away




XV1              INTRODUCTIO'.o
from the grave of drunkenness, and the lost restored;
devils have been cast out of those cut among the
tombs, and its gospel has been preached to the poor.
The reform was designed by a kind God to lift up and
restore poor fallen humanity, and not to add brilliancy
to fashion, or popularity to men. The prodigals, who
have wasted all in riotous living and hungered for the
husks, have turned back from their dark wanderings,
and the temperance cause has met them half-way, and
rejoiced that the lost were founcd. The so-called fashionable have murmured, and turned away with scorn
from such manifestations. They would so have scorned the meek Saviour, because he called after the sinner, and wept with and comforted the poor and
afflicted.
The hand of Providence has marked the course of
our cause. Step by step it has moved onwvard, ever
going deeper into the hearts and consciences of men.
It has had its reverses, as has every great moral revolution which has agitated the world; but its first standard, 4torn but flying," floats out prouder to-day than
ever before. There is a hydra influence against itone sleepless and gigantic. But ours is the majority,
for God is with us. At times it has been beaten —its
waves have rolled back and again mingled with their
kindred waters; but they have returned to the shock
with other waves and deeper flow, sweeping on with
the strength and grandeur of its power. Wealth has
opposed it-fashion has sneered at it —interest has
fought it-demagogues have stabbed it, and Iscariots
have betrayed and sold it; but, like the oak matured




INTRODUCTION.             XVE
in the storm, it has taken root, until its towering trunk
sways defiance to the fiercest wrath of the tempest.
And it will live, and flourish, and gloriously triumph.
The blessings of the Temperance iReform are sufficient to reward for an age of effort. One home made
joyous-one broken heart healed and made happyone man restored to manhood, family, society and God
— is a prouder and more enduring monument than
ever towered in marble. What a change it has
wrought in public sentiment  Look back-and many
of us can remember it-to the time when tippling was
interwoven with every custom of society, and infancy
sucked drunkenness from the mother's breast. We
know that intemperance yet sits like a nightmare
upon the bosom of society; but there are millions of
homes, and fields, and systems from which it has been
forever banished. Where is now the physician that
prescribes rum to the mother, or a mother who swallows such prescriptions, or feeds them to the child?
Where is the family table where the morning bitters
sit with the food which gives life and strength?
Where is the mechanic who carries it to his shop? The
farmer who furnishes it to his laborers in the field?'The marriage where the health and happiness of the
bride must be given in wine? The funeral where it
must mingle with the tears of the bereaved? They
are scarce. A blessed light has dawned upon community, and it is found that man can be born, martied, and die without the spirit of alcohol.
In the progress of the reform, nearer and still nearer to the enemy, the ground has been broken. The
2




xviii           INTRODUCTIONo,
first position was not the one of to-day. The old
pledge was the entering wedge, but it did not banish
the insidious tempter from our own ranks. It coiled
still in the wine cup, and in the more common alcoo
holic beverages. Experience demonstrated the folly
of chaining the mad dog, and the total abstinence
pledge was adopted. Then came a war among temperance men, but the right triumphed; for, it was
found that the old pledge was a dangerous ground for
drinking men. Then came the Washingtonian movement, like a storm, and its floods swept on with startling intensity and power. There are ten thousand
trophies where it moved; but the force of the torrent
long since spent itself. The flames have died out upon
its altars, as a general thing, and its legions disbanded,
or enlisted in new organizations. Something more
systematic was demanded. An organization more concentrated, and ever active, was called for, to retain
old ground and win new fields-one which should
throw a shield around the inebriate, and retain him
by influences always appealing to his manhood and
love of home. The exigency brought out the thing
needed, and the triple emblem of the Red, White and
Blue, was lifted to the world. Under its broad folds,
an army of freemen has gathered, such as the world
has never seen before. The tread of that army sounds
the doom of the rum traffic.
In the commencement of our reform, and for a
number of years, the mass of its friends considered
"moral suasion" as the only means of success. It
would have accomplished its work, were all men sus



INTRODUCTIOYN               XiX
ceptible to moral influences. But it would not answer
the ends designed. While human nature is such as
to require penal laws in the restraint and punishment
of its excesses, moral influences will never keep man
from the commission of wrong. God's government is
not based upon moral suasion alone. His laws are
prohibitory, as are the laws upon our statute books.
And against all this array of enactments, human and
divine, wicked men continue to trample upon the
rights of others. If laws will not prevent the comr
mission of wrong, who would expect moral influ
ences alone to protect the interests of society from the
vicious and abandoned? And more especially would
it fall far short of accomplishing such an object, when
coming in contact with evils sustained and guarded by
legislation. Never, while avarice has a home in the
human heart, can bad men be influenced, by moral
considerations, to abandon a traffic which law tolerates, and protects, and clothes with respectability.
With a license law existing and shielding the seller
from punishment, how long before he could be prevailed upon to abandon a lucrative business?  Time
might end and find the traffic in its full strength, and
those engaged in it as indifferent to our entreaties and
appeals, as they are to-day.
It was seen that the fountain must be dried-the
Upas uprooted and destroyed forever. Hence the idea
of prohibition and protection. And this sentiment
finds a response in the hearts of the friends of the
cause, enthusiastic and unanimous. Here is the great
battle-ground, and around this banner the contending




2XX              LINTRODUCTIONo
interests are rallying. Eloquence has been spent in
vain heretofore, so far as having any effect upon those
engaged in the traffic. God's truth has thundered
against them. Facts have been piled on facts, until
they tower in fearful judgment against them. Arguments, unanswerable, have been adduced, and appeals of the most earnest and touching pathos been
made. All has been in vain. Entrenched behind
law, and flanked by the unscrupulous demagogueism
of the country, they have looked unmoved upon the
ruin wrought by their own hands, and laughed all our
efforts to scorn. A new system of warfare must be
adopted, or the strife would be for time. As in times
past, so Providence, at this juncture, directed the
movements. Then appeared a light in the east, and
clear and startling above the din of the strife, came a
new battle cry, thrilling like an electric'shock, and
everywhere arousing our wearied hosts. A new banner out, and its magic words have filled all hearts with
zeal, faith and hope. 1" THE MAINE LAW'9 is an emblem of triumph. It is the mystic writing upon the
wall, announcing the downfall of the Babylon whose
iniquites have so long cursed the earth, and political
Belshazzars already look upon the record of sure
coming doom, and tremble. The new plan is as simple as potent. It embodies, in a stringent form, the
principles of prohibition and protection. Like all
other laws for the prevention of crime, it strikes at
the cause, leaving the streams to dry up when no
longer fed by the fountain. It dispenses with arguments and appeals. It leaves no dripping heads to




IN TRODUCTIO]I.              xxi
multiply others, but attacks the hydra in his den, and
with the hot irons of fine and imprisonment, sears as
it goes. It destroys thfie trffic itsel. Like a complete
battery, it has been planted under the very walls of
the enemy. Broad breaches have already been made
in the very citadel, and the flushed legions of four
States of the Union are already pouring in for the last
hand-to-hand conflict.  "God defend the Riglt7" _n
the battle.
Various instrumentalities have operated in bringing
the Temperanie Reform up to its present commanding
position. Able nmen have written  and- spoken, and
fEiom the rostrum and the pulpit public opinion has
been edutcated.  B-ut the great engine has been the
PRESS. This giant friend of man in a free country,
has scattered its light, its facts, arguments acnd appeals,
into millions of hearts and homes.  It has invoked a
storm slowly, but none the less effectually. The mutterings of years past are deepening into startling peals,
and the red language of popular indignation and wrath,
glows ominously bright across the sky.  The deep of
public opinion is rocking to its depths.
The Temperance Press, at first struggling with almost overwhelming difficulties, has slowly increasedc
in ability and power, and to-day exerts a controlling
influence upon public'sentiment.  The literature of
our reiform is assuming a more refined and elevated
character, and clothing great truths in purer and
more attractive garb; and never was there a wider
field for the exercise of intellectual effort.  The wildest dreams of fiction seem tame in comparison with




.Xxii             INTRODUCTION.
the stern and sober realities of our cause. Tragedies,
more fearfully dark and startling than A.von's bard
ever sketched, are thickly traced on the record of
rum's history. Scenes which would mock the artist's
pencil are of daily occurrence. The desolate home,
with its heart-broken wife and mother, with her pal.e
cheek channelled with itears of unutterable woe, as
she bends weeping over the drunken wreck of her
youth's idol; the child-group shivering in the blast, or
clinging to that mother, as they moan for bread; the
orphan turned out, with no friend but God, into the
wide world; youth wrecked and palsied with premature age; manhood reeling amid the ruins of mind
and moral beauty, the sepulchre of a thousand hopes;
genius drivelling in idiocy and crumbling into ruin;
the virtuous and noble-minded turning away from
truth and honor, and plunging into every vice; the
parent and citizen wandering away from a home-heaven, through a devious and dark pilgrimage, to a dishonored grave-the home-idol shivered and broken,
the altar cast down, and an. Eden transformed into a
hell; childhood and innocence thrust out from  the
lovelight of a mother's eye, to wallow in all that is
l.ow and vile; Poverty and -Want looking with pinched and piteous gaze upon the scanty tribute of charity;
foul and festering Vice, with sickly and bloated features, leering and droolling in licentious beastiality;
Madness, with fiery eye and haggard mien, weeping
and wailing and cursing in the rayless night of intellectual chaos; Crime, with its infernal' ha! ha I' as it
stalks forth from its work of death, with its red hand




IN'TROD UCTION.            x xii:
dripping with the hot and smoking life-tide of its vietimn;-hese, and ten thousand other combinations of
warp and woof, are woven into tales of wondrous intensity and power. The hovel, the dram-shop, the
subterranean den, and the mansion of fashion and
wealth, have all furnished the material for tales of
startling interest. When fiction even has called up
its weird creations, they have been but copies of the
facts already transpired.  The moral is always there.
Thus poetry and romance have combined to place the
realities of two opposing principles in striking contrast. Such is the object of the following tale, from
the perusal of which we will no longer detain the kind
reader. That the Maine Law may triumph, and the
dark shadow of Intemperance pass away, is the earnest prayer of him who has thus far claimed attention.
The door is open, an.d the reader can go in and examine he sr ucur the structure of the author's fabric at leisure.
T.  W. B.








DICK  WILSO N
CHAPTER I.
FUTURE  PLANS AND  PROSPECTSo
6Thou who, securely llll'ed in Youthls warm rvay,
MIark'st not the desolations wrought by WTine!
Be roused, or perish! Ardent for its prey,
Speeds the fell cunsE, that ravages thy prime."
FRIENDS of HE-manity!  Heaven is in'the great,
effort which is now being made against the rumr traffice
God designs that this great national disgaaee-this
plague-spot upon the pages of civil law,-shal, be
wiped out by a bloodless revolution.  Alnd the many
voices of the same God, coming through nnmistalazble agencies, are summoning you to the spot where
Humanity and Temperance erected their pure white
standard; and where soon, by cthe blessing of God,
and the assistance of those who love peace, you are
expected to do just what others have done in Maine,R6 Rout the rumseller I"
Ah I then, this means me, does it?" says a distilB




26                 DICK -W ILSON,
ler, hard by.  "I won't read a word of it,-no, inIeed i  It is a shame that people won't mind their
own business. I tell you what I will do,-I will fight
laainst this effort until the very death!"' This is agitating the subject of white slavery I" say
the gesteel apologists for this immeasurable curse;'equal rights for the peopZe, is my motto," says the
time-serving politician; "we must be up in arms
against it; if we do not, our craft andc our trade will
go down together," says the trembling rumseller.
es, enemies of mankind, it is precisely so; and as
Delilah said to Samson, so we would say to you,-the
Plhilistines are upon you!
Yzou know very well that Humanity, in all her
forms, has appealed to you, and craved your mercy,
-that your work is wicked, and that its tendency is
brutalizing in the extreme.  The ragged, starving,
tricmbling childcl,-the father, the mother, the brother,
an1d -the sister, have invoked vour compassion.  But
t-o Arhat purpose?
The poor-house, the prison, the gallows, the suicide,
-Qlave,  with one voice, besought you to desist. But
to what purpose are these most fearful' of exhibitions
that can be made upon the earth, and of which you
are the architect?  Have they moved yon to mercy?
To I! These facts have had no impression; but like a
rival Juggernaut, you have moved on your ponderous,
erlishing car! and the warm, fresh blood of your vic



:UTTURE PLANS ANiD PtROSPECTS.         27.... still rises in your path, and is invoking the vengeance of God upon your cruelty.
Humanity has appealed to you in every form,-by
every argument,-luntil her very charity has lost all
confidence; and hopeless, and in tears, she has turned to the humane, the noble, and the virtuous; and
when these are fairly marshalled in the order of legislat-ive battle, you must disbancl,-disbancl, as did youre
fellow craft, in the gallant State of Maine.
-Renzember- Reme ember- the battle of  lfictize/  for it
loosened your foundations through out the dominion of
civilization. The next music you hear will be the voices
of little children chanting in. ecstasy the rumseller's
doom': "The rumselling Babylon is fallen —FALLEN
-FALLEN —to curse hu-manity no more forever 1"
Friend of humanity! are you a father, standing at
the threshold of your own door, and hloldilni in youre
own hand, with a warm, parental grasp, thlat of your
son, for whom, and for yourselfg the endearing assosociations of tthe past are, to a great extent, to be
broken up forever?  Yo. expect to remain under the
shelter of your own roof; but your boy-yotlr proud,
noble boy —the object to which your hopes are clingingl-he is going out into the "'wide, Avide world," of
trials and tem-ptations.
But then, why do you weep?  Why do you linger,
as if you were unwillinrg that the word of parting
- shousld ever.leave your lips?




28                DICK WILSON.
Ah, yes, father, you know why it is. The big tear
starting from your eye is sparkling with the interpretation. Oh I yes; it is the recognition of the rumseller's ability to cut off all your expectations; and,
finally, to cut off your boy l-and you do well to
weep. But remember that timely action may save
you, in your old age, those bitterest of all tears-the
untimely and unavailing.
Aother!-dearest of earthly names —most precious
treasure which God reserves to the child on earthmother, why do you weep, as your boy goes forth from
your home?  Why does that silent ejaculation, which
can only find an overflowing fulness in the deep
storehouse of a mother's love, so ofen go out from
your heart? -   God bless and preserve imy dear
boy "1
Brother-sister-friend I Why do you weep as
your several relations in life are broken up by the departure of dear ones? These may all come back
again. Yes, and who knows this better, or hopes
more fervently for it, than you do? Wherefore, then,
dost thou weep?
Do you see-and, perchance, not far off, in the future —a loved one straying back  again, a wasted
wreck?  Ah I if tears have the power to strengthen
the weak, you do well to shed them freely; for the
rumseller has a fearful power. He has the power to
crush, by his cruel machinery, the finest form and the




FUTURE PLANS AND PROSPECTS.            29
noblest intellect, and fashion the likeness of the invisible God into the similitude of a beast I
A sense of sadness always steals its way, and mingles freely in the associations of an hour, in which
loved ones are called to part.
Such a sadness as this seldom fails to throw itself
about the evening of a college commencement-day;
and it is natural, as well as fitting, that it should be
so. In circumstances like these, relations and associations, which are only to be surpassed by the endearing ties of home, are to be broken up. Hearts,
which have been knit together and interwoven with
each other by the intimate and sweet communion
of several years, it may be, are now to be parted.
Their paths are to be divided, and the pleasant seclusion of a college life, with all its local associations
and life-like memories, are to be exchanged for the
stern warfare of real existence,-one for which the
wisest is but poorly girded,-"a tournament in which,
often, the lance of the generous young warrior is
shivered in his hand by a powerful antagonist,
and himself thrown prostrate and bleeding to the
ground.
It was on one of those beautiful and never-to-beforgotten evenings, which seldom fail to throw a melancholy, love-like radiance about the closing scenes
of a commencement-day, in a dear old college in western Pennsylvania, in whose history many a one in this




3OD 0DICK ~WILSO0.
wide land is associated, and in whose affections it will
never lose its place.
It was on the evening of one of those lovely
days, in the latter part of Septenfber, 184-, that
Frank Hamilton entered the room  of Dick WVitson, to bid his more than  "college chunm" goodbye. These young mlien were as warm  friends —-no
from11   necessity, but choice-as ever were united
within the dominions of that venerable enclosure,
from its rude "log cabin" to its stately pile of brick.
Their time had come to part-tlheir college hours
were all lived out, to the very end; and yet they
lingered in the presence of thsat passing tmoment, as
if they would fain protract, into years again, that
which jnus then was passing with a -wvhirlxwind's haste.
It was nat-ural enough  that these young men
should feel so.  This same feeling has clung to a
thOUSandl  parting-s w\hich have taken place there.
They were to part with a numerous band of other
young men, whlom they could only hope to meet again,
if ever, on the stormy ocean of life; and whose huge
billows, they kne, woulild at last roll over the graves
of all. But  icd it occur to' them  that some would
go down  earlier, and some later,-tLhat so-le woulld
go down in brightness, and some in gloom?
But old Dr. B-~, whose kindness was a proverb, with all his eccentricities,-to part with himto hear that voice no nmore, perhaps, forever-the




FUTURE PLANS AND PROSPECTS.         31
voice to which they had been so well accustomed to
listen-the same which had given them a kindly
welcome on their first arrival within its walls-the
same from which they were accustomed to hear the
truths of religion and the lessons of science; this
voice-to hear it no more upon the earth, was far
from being the least powerful of the influences with
which that moment was filled to overflowing.
Frank Hamilton  and Dick Wilson were classmates.  They had been thrown together strangers;
but strangeness had passed away before the mystic
minglings of kindred spirits with kindred tastes and
sympathies, and they were friends, to each of wholr
the':good-bye" was a cheerless sound.
It was a difficult matter for. them to part. They
looked at each other intently, as if searching for
some portion of their future history. They looked
about upon the walls of that old room, with every
square inch of -which they seemed, at that moment,
to have a wonderful familiarity.  Why did these
young men hesitate to go? The homes, towards
which they were about to return again, were wfaii-.
ing to welcome them; and yet they wept!  WVas
the unseen spirit of some departed one at that moment communicating to them the facts in their future history? Did they see, a little way off in the
future, some gloomy monster upon whom almightty
vengeance had written fiend, rising to obstruct their




82                 DICK WILSON.
path?  Wrere they gifted at that moment, with the
view of the rumseller's power over human character
axnd human destiny?   No I surely they were not,
or the buoyant aspirations of their hearts would have
been chilled to icy coldness.' Well, Dick," said Frank  lamrnilton, after some
evident emotion, " I have come to say farewell,
but, my dear fellow, I did not realize, until this moment, how difficult it would be to part with you.
But the fact is, Dick, our business here is all overour work is done, and we must go, and make room for
those who are to succeed us. It grieves mne to think
how soon we shall be forgotten on these grounds;
for, with the coming of the next session the stranger
will come, and some one or more, as the case may be,
or as necessity may require, will take up their abode
in this old third-story room  of yours, in which we
have spent so many pleasant hours together, and
around every part of which, at this moment, I see
pleasant associations clustering.  With these new
faces will come a train of new feeling, aid new associations, and new interests; and these new creations
hrnill cluster about these walls, and mingle with this
atmosphere, as gaily and as lovingly as ours do now.
But;ihere, Dick, shall we be, when these new asso.
ciatonus are continuing to be formed here, through
-nany f'luture years?"
The Lord only knows, Frank!  I hope, however,




FUTURE PLANS AND PROSPECTS.          33
that the poor fellow who comes here next may manage to keep the blues off as well as I have done; but
then, I am in your debt, after all, for a large share of
amy success in doing so."
"Well, Dick, you are no doubt right when you say
that the Lord knows, but the fact is, I should like to
know something about it myself, if it is good; and if
it is not good, then I don't care particularly about being
very wise, so far as that is concerned. After all, I
tell you, this college life is rather a dreamy affair.
There is but little of the hard-fisted, rough-and-tumble reality about it. IHere we are at this moment, just
going out into the world, and we know but little more
about it than a brace of old monks, who have been
shut up in their cloisters all the days of their lives,
and what under the heavens do they know about its
wants and its realities?  WVell, the fact is, we are not
much wiser than they are. AVe passed from the nursery to the school-house-from the school-house to the
academy-from  the academy to this college; and I
think we have kept one proverb about as well as it, is
possible to keep it-' salute no man by the way.' But
then, with us it has been the action of necessity rather
than volition. I am afraid, Dick, after all, we will be
forced to a conclusion to which young persons generally do not wish to come; but old folks say it is true,
and they cannot be reasoned out of it either, that'the
ways of this world are not always as pleasant as they
Be*             3




3-:                 DICK WILSOn.
miglit be.' The history of this world, if those who
preceded us here and elsewhere are to be believed, is
a strange and checkered story, made up of pleasures
and pains, of success and:ailures, of triumphs and
defeats."
"Why, Frank," said Dick WTilson,'"what on the
earth is the matter with you all at once? Come, come,
nmy friend, shuffle off those unpleasant reflections; for
this, I aml sure, is no time -for them.  fWhat business
have they here at such an hour?  I amln sure we have
enough. else to think about and talk about, without
disturbing the wisdomn of our fathers.  If misfortune
is before us, it will be time enoughl- for us to know it
when it comes.  All I will ask of the surly old dame
is half an lhour's notice of her coming.  I anm sure this
is fair, and tllen, if she gets her paws on ime, I will
surrender; but I tell you, Frank, she m11Ut be ready
to spring very soon after she sends her compliments,
or else she will find me, eyes ri:ght, and prepared to
meet her.  And by the powers, Frank, there is another thin_ that I will just menlion,-'we are not old
mnonks.' If there were such beings as young monks,
you would be a precious sight nearer tllan you are.
But old monks! Frank, just thlink of tiat agoain, and
you  will call it back; and what is more to be observed just now, is thi;s,-ou Lh ad better not conipamre
anytlhing, about these cluarters, to mockery, or you
may find yourself minus a diplonia, yet.  A  monk I




FUTURE PLANS AND PROSPECTS.
Why, Frank, this orthodox atmosphere woucld straigle him, just as soon as Hibernian soil would kill a
snake; he couldn't live here at all. Monks, inldeed 7
No, sir, I guess not. But come, shuffle off thos, unl.
pleasant reflections,-wake up from  this drexlwn oi
yours; fling these gimn spectres out of your mind, ancIn
select for your motto, what I have selected for imine
—'ad astra!'-and Pluto himself can't keep us frcem
winning the race. BLut'rank, go on; say whlatioverT
your inclination may lead you to say, only don't sermonize; for you know we have had one of the usual
dimensions to-clday, alrealdy."
" Vell, Dick," replied Frank Hamilton, " you have
entrenched yourself pretty well,-better than I imal.,
ined you could, and much better than I am able t;o
do. But then let me tell you, Dick, it is folly to kill
by sport what may come as reality.  You know as
well as I do, fthat at least a few get what is called a
short and a merry ride through life. Iow merry it
may be, is what I could not vouch for; but there is
no mistake about its being short enough, to answi-cer
those who are in the greatest hurry.  Several times,
since we;met here strangers, our hearts have been.
made sad by the intelligence of the melancholy fililunre
and fall of those whose acquaintance we first formed
here; and it is remarkable, that, without a single exception, so far as I know, they were those who were
amongst the first in every sense; and very unexpat.:



DICK WILSON.
edly to themselves, and to us, first in the grave 
PThese dear fellows, graduated as we have done, and
went away from here, as we are about to do. Their
hopes were as bright as ours are now, and yet they
perished in the very bud, and I think it is rather natural than -forced, that these premature wrecks should
make us thoughtful. We will leave here in the morning —ourx faces will once more be turned towards
home; and kind friends, no doubt, will greet us, as
we cross the sacred threshold. But then, Dick, home
will be home no longer, in the sense of our boyish
days. Things, you may depend upon it, will have
changed. The love of the household will, no doubt,
be as sincere as it ever was; but yet, each of us will
find a change, which is both natural and necessary,
although now we may not be able to conceive any
such thing. I think that we had better make up our
minds for hard times, and make a wise selection of
our armor; sand then, if they do come, they will find
us prepared to meet them; and if after all, they
should not come, why, we will still be the gainers ratJler than the losers. I tell you, Dick, I am afraid
you would find your half-hour too short at both ends,
to gird yourself for an encounter with even a moderate share of adversity."' Frank,' replied Dick, "it is more difficult for me
to break away from these associations than you imagine it is. In fact, it is more difficult than I thought it




FUTURE PLANS AND PROSPECTS.             7
was. Butl- then, I know it nmust be done, for we can't
stay any longer Bere.  The stranger wants to come;
and now he is waiting to succeed us, as we succeeded
others. Ah, yes I my dear fellow, he is waiting for
an opportunity to form such sacred associations as ours
have been. Yes, yes; he will spoil all their beauty
for us, but then, it will be to make them  beautiful for
himself-f; and s-arely we should no-t envy him whatever
pleasunres he can ge-t liere. RWe have been permitted
to paint, with the pencil of fancy, our livinog households upon these -walls; but the poor fellow who
comes here next may have nothing to paint, save what
the grave has left him —the recollections of the past 
Let him paint them, then I-let him  enjoy then, too,
and often, in his hours of sadness-let them cheer
him, and have the power over him to nerve him forward. You and inyself, Frank, will be architects
somewhere else.  I never knew  until to-day, how
much I thought of old Dr. B          Those parting
words of his to us, this evening, were the evidence of
his solicitude for our future welfare.-No trifling circumstance will destroy his interest in us, and his affection for us; and I think if it were at all to be desired,
we might be sure of his prayers. I must say, however, that while I admired the toLuching pathos of his
parting benediction, that I did think he was rather
too solicitous about our future, and especially mine.
I suppose, however, that he woeuld like to see us min



DICK'WILSON.
isters, as a very large proportion of the crop which
grows in this soil is of that kind.  But this won't do
for mne. I think they are good enough, and useful
enough, in their places, but I am satisfied that is not
my place. WVhy do you think he made that singular
allusion to the rumlsellers,  Frank?"
Al I think, Dick, he has in all probability heard of
some of your fun, as you call it-perhaps last night's
spree.9
"6 No, I should think not, Frank.  I would rather
attribute it to his hatred of the rumseller's profession;
and, by the by, if he had the entire control, rumsellers, big and little, would soon be a rare commodity
in this place. The fact is, I think he is too severe
with those persons.  But then, I don't want you to
think that I have any sympathy with them. I think,
when it is viewed narrowly, that in fact its virtue becomes so small as to be hardly visible. I mean the
profession.  These rumsellers cry'accommllodation,
accommodation!' and old Dungy* cries precisely the
same thing. When he comes in with his basket of
taffca, he cries' accommodation, accommodationl!' and
says, it is good for colds, coughs, and consumptions,
and empty heads, too; and when he has succeeded in
emptying his basket profitably, and has his change in
his pocket7 I guess he could, if he would, tell who,
according to his judgment, was most profitably acA well-known hawker in.... College.




FUTURE PLAN-S AND PROSPECTS.         39
commodated. Just so with the rumsellers here and
elsewhere- they are mighty free to accommodate!
Oh, yes; nothing but accommodationl   It is their
profession, and they are ready to spring, like lamplighters, whenever there is a prospect of a sixpence or
a shilling; but the misfortune is, when they accommodate in rum, the accommodation is all on their side,
and no one knows it better than they do. No, sir, I
have no sympathy with them, and I want no place in
this rum aramy. I intend to let them alone. I will
attend to my business, and they may attend to theirs.
Here is where I object, principally, to the old doctor's
advice.  ITe wants us, as he says,'first of all, for our
safety, to array ourselves against it.' Well; first of
all, I can't believe it can harm us; and then, I have
no disposition to do it. It is a fine idea, indeed, that
two young men, who are just going out into the
world, and who have the profession of law in view,
should be called to take the unpopular side of any
question, and then make it a hobby upon which to
ride themselves out of reach of every reasonable prospect. I won't do it. I expect to be in Congress, or
somewhere else, some day, and marching after that
music wouLd lead anywhere else. No, no; not I! If
he wants that done, he must turn out the black coats,
and if they fall, no one will mind it. Don't you think
I am about right, Frank?"
" Dick, I lmust be candid with you. Words live




40                DICK WILSON.
forever, and it is better to speak them wisely. I lnust
say that I think you are wrong, all wrong in this matter. You intimated that if it were a matter of importance, you thought we might safely reckon on the old
doctor's prayers. Do you think, that the prayers of
that good old man, following us out into the world,
would be likely to do us any harm?  For my own
part, although I am not religious by profession, there
is nothing which I would more desire; and I must
tell you, that the knowledge of the fact, that I have a
home, where prayers are offered for me daily, has
made me feel safer; and I should feel all the better if
I knew that many more were praying for me. Such
things will not be likely to do us any harm, and I am
sure that good advice will be just as unlikely to injure us. I have as good an opinion of myself as
I ought to have. My hopes are as sanguine as I
would desire them to be. I have painted my future
as bright as I dare paint it. There is danger I True,
it may never come to us. I hope, Dick, it never will.
And here is where I think the prayers of that old'
man,. following us out into the world, would be likely
to do us good. But then, there is danger; and if it
does not come to us, it will come to others. There
will always be danger, while rumselling is permitted
-and circumstances favoring it, it will be just as powerful to accomplish our ruin as that of any one else.
This is one of the subjects for which a fitting illustra




FUTURE PLANTS! AND PROSPECTS.     41
lion is always furnished to hand by the monster.
Takke those two boys to whom this evening wve have
given our old clothes. They are sweet, lovely children. How have we pitied them, whose wants we
have often tried to supply? How many times have
we seen them, w'hen it was our conclusion that hunger had cldriven them from home?  Think of that,
Dick-driven from  home by hu-ngerI Then, who
occasioned it? You know it was the rumseller. You
know that it was their fath-er's familiarity with the
br-room, that -made poverty reign in his house,-that
sent the inmates out to beg. Hoow ofen have we
looked at the apparently happy group of boys, engaged in play? But these little fellows, if they were
there, were generally at the outer edge of the circle.
Often have I looked on, when every countenance in
that group was lit uLp with smiles but theirs-every
heart appeared to be leaping with joy but' theirs.
Every one in that crowd but those two, little more
lthan children, knew that they had comfortable homes,
to which, at the end of their sports, they might retire. These children had a shelter-but who would
call it a home?-only that a mother's love was there.
When I have looked at this, again and again, I have
asked myself the question,'Who has robbed these
children?' and my better judgment has answered,
I The rumseller I' These boys were the back-ground
to every youthful sport in which they mingled, and as




42                DICK WILSON.
sometimes a rude, unfeeling lad would taunt them for
their poverty, they would make no reply; but their
countenances would seem to say-' Mock us not! It
is not our fault; we are not to blame. This misfor.
tune is the rumseller's work, and not ours. We do
not love these ragged clothes; but necessity, of the
rumseller's creation, compels us to wear them. If wt
are hungry, and cold, and naked, and unloved by all,
save our dear mother, oh, do not reproach us for itfor we are innocent! Some of your fathers are warming and feeding the serpent which is stinging us to
death 1' To me, Dick, those little fellows, with their
bright eyes and pale cheeks, seemed to realize their
loneliness.  I have sometimes thought that they seemed to feel as if they were uncared for; and if such
were the feelings of those little boys, I know of noo
thing which would  so much tend to harden, to vitiate,
and deprave their young minds. And is this all?  Oh,
no! they are but two out of the thousands with which
the land is teeming. These boys need a defence-the
most powerful defence; and where are they to find it?
They will not be likely to find it in the same channel
where they find their father's ruin. AhI no, indeed,
these are not the agencies to whom they can confidently look for lessons of virtue. No, no! They must
look somewhere else than to the rumseller. Now,
Dick, they have a right to your aid and mine. Whenever there is necessity, they shall have mine! This




FUTURE PLANS LAND PROSPECTS.         43
appears to me to be a work of the most exalted character in which a human being could engage,-a work
in which talents of the most brilliant order might do
honor to the possessor, and immense, immeasurable
good to the little unfortunates, with whose wail of sadness the land is becoming vocal. In my own State
there are about twenty-five thousand  drunkards 
Most of these have faMilies, making the aggregate
number of sufferers at least one hundred thousand in
that single State. One hundred thousand sufferers
bleeding at the hands of rumsellers! What an army
this, which is being swept on to ruin I Collect it in
your own mind, and then look at it, and then tell me
what work of earthly character can be so truly noble
as that which would seek to restore them  to happiness? You are mistaken about this matter, or else I
am.; for I believe the finest abilities and the rarest accomzplishments will do their mightiest work and get
their most signal renown on this very field; for God
will help them. The conquerors on this field will
bring away with them such laurels as will never fade.
Their fame will be a living, cheering, soul-inspiring
fame!  It will ascend up with morning and evening
orisons,-froio    altars whose base the rumseller has
caused to be saturated with tears!-the widow's and
the orphan's tears! From homes where children have
starved, and from solitudes where beauty has pined.
This is the heaven-born and the heaven-given meed,




DICK WILSON.
which is awaiting the victors in this war. Can it be
possible, Dick, that you intend to plead no cause for
which you are not paid in money, as you once intimated to me? Is it possible that you intend to leave the
fate, the character, the everything belonging to this
class, to other hands than yours; and that you will
have nothing to do in aiding to heal their wounds,-in
wiping the tears from their eyes? If so, I tremble
for your future. I am convinced that it is your duty
-that it is my duty-that it is the duty of every
man, woman and  child —to war with everything
which tends to disorganize human society, or taint it
with the breath of putrefaction-whatever may tend
to depreciate morals-to squander property-to destroy health-to wither reputation, or to insult Godl'
"' Well, well, Frank, you will find, I imagine, and
I am sorry for it, that this philosophy won't be very
profitable to you.- It would do very well in the pulpit, but it will never do anything for you at the bar."
6 Well, then, Dick, this is my principal philosophy,
and if it should not be current at the bar, I will try
its currency in some other avocation. But I apprehend no such difficulty; and I do believe, farther,
that the best way to secure our safety, is to do all in
our power for the safety of others. This, I am sure,
will be our safest plan, and it will secure our dearest
interests, and I advise you to adopt this principle.
But, I must go. Will we ever meet again?"




FUTURE PLANS AND PROSPECTS.        45
" I hope we shall, Frank; and then we will talk
more about these things, and be better able to tell
whose philosophy was best, wisest, and safest. Keep
the portrait my mother gave you. I know of no
other person to whom she would have given it. It
may at some future time serve to revive by-gone recollections. I shall always remember you,-I cannot
forget you."
"Nor will I ever forget you, Dick. Wherever you
find me, you will find Frank Hamilton still. Rememn
ber me kindly to your family. Tell them I never
shall forget them."
The good-bye was uttered, and the young men parted, to meet again-they could not tell when, where,
or how.




C IIAPTER II.
NEWS FROMI HOME. —A SAD CHtANGE.
" Fair was the blossom, soft the vernal sky,
Elate with hope, we deenled no tempest nigh;
When lo! a whirlwind's instantaneous gust,
Left all its beauties withering in the dust."
How often-yes, how continually-in the midst of
life's pleasantest ways andl most winning prospects, are
we, seemingly by a Providential declaration, taught
that it is not in man that walketh to direct his steps.
How often is it made plain, on a wide scale, that the
circumstances by which we are surrounded, and which
we often create, or tacitly endorse-be they propitious,
or unpropitious-are the mighty levers, under the
agency of which we are impelled onward, and often
with a tyranny more absolute than that which presses
the fainting slave through his years of toil; and this,
often, when the voice of a living consciousness tells us
we are wrong, and that destruction and misery are in
the way, and its end death!
There are none who are more frequently or more
fearfully startled, in the ways of life, than the young
— especially the young man.  He is just lifting the




NEWS FROMI HOME —A SAD CHANGE.    47
curtain, and feeling his way, cautiously, or recklessly, it may be, to the stage —the stage on which innumerable actors have played their part, and for whom
another curtain has been lifted, and through whose
opening they have passed to other scenes! How fearfully variegated is the comic and the tragic of this
drama! Such persons have no experience-their
knowledge of the world is second-hand —and hence
they enter uponl this stage, crowded with as much uncertainty as that which crowded the entrance of the
gladiator, when, for the first time, he braved the dangers of the Boman or Ephesian Amphitheatre. He
knew not how it would result. The Tuscan boar, the
iNumidian lion, or the Hispanolian bull, after a feeble
defence, might overcome him; or it might be that a
well aimed blow from the battle-axe, or thrust from
the spear, might lay his savage antagonist in the dust,
and win for him a conqueror's meed. But everything
trembled upon the wheel of a hazardous uncertainty.
How little do those who are experienced in tho
warfare of life-who are rich in the history of its joys
atd it sorrowsrseem to understand how much they
may do in equipping a young warrior, that he may
reach at last a more brilliant fiame than that which
graced a Roman holiday i
How seldom do we dream  of the infinite, the indestructible duration, of those far-reaching pulsations,
which come in quivering, lisping echoes, froi  the




48               oDICK WILSON.
slight vibration which a touch may waken into life I
-a touch, a breath, a faint articulation-hallowed, or
unhallowed, for good or for evil, for fame or for infamy     Who shall measure the power which that single touch may give to one of those fragile human
barks on life's stormy ocean-or how it may allay its
storms, and assuage the fury of its madness, by carrying with it an ennobling sympathy, contaniing the
elements of   peace, be still?"  The earthquake sends
the tremor of its wild pulsations farther when it is
deepest buried in the bosom of the earth. So does the
element of virtue. So, too, does the element of vice.
it is human nature's great misfortune, that its sympaties are not more generally on the side of virtue.
By the unhallowed touch of an ingeniously wrought
mystic influence, the seeds of corruption easily affiliate
with the soil of the human heart, and when left to act
of its own accord, what fearful desolations mark its
path!-desolations which are not measured by days,
but by the unravelling thread of a whole existence.
One year had scarcely passed away since Dick Wilson had parted with his friend, Frank Hamilton.
Then his counmtenance was expressive of the most ardent hope —now it was expressive of sorrow and dis.
appointment. Dark storms had suddenly swept over
the roof, and howled in the halls of his princely home,
and before their driving fury it had become desolate
indeed. Already the stranger named it by another




NEWtS FROM IEOME.-A- SAD CHANGE.    49
name, and Dick Wilson had no home I His fathera kind, indulgent, but unfortunate man-had fallen
into the rumseller's hands, and then, ah! how suddenly, changed his earthly for an eternal home. He
needed no longer the well-attired parlors, or the colpany of his brilliant guests; for his cup was drained
-his banquets over. Close by the side of that father
-in the spring-time of her existence, in the blooming
freshness of her young life-reposed a lovely dauglhter; and while other hearts were beating high with
hope, her's had ceased to throb. One morning's sun
saw her, still in beauty, but with a deep shade of sorrow on her brow: that evening's setting sun looked
forth again, as it was departing, through the crimson
drapery of a quiet room, and again its golden tints
fell upon the same brow. But now, gloom had disappeared-the traces of sorrow were gone; her features were clear, her heart moved not-for her form,
girt about with the pale livery of death, was ready to
be laid by the side of her father, on whose premature
fall, through the rumseller's agency, the young heart
had broken. Fortune had failed, with her train of
fickle attendants.
All this, to Dick Wilson, had come suddenly. He
had not received even his half-hour's notice of its
coming; and it came just at the time in which, with
greater buoyancy than ever, he was aspiring towards
futu're fame; and, more than ever, he was unconscious
C           4




60O              DICK, WILSON.
that the wings, to whose capacity he was too confidently trusting, were about to be broken off.
It was a night of merriment with Dick and some of
his young law companions, at C; but it was a
night of wasting sadness in his home.  IWine had entered the room where these young men were holding
their conviviality —but intense sorrow had borne itself
to the doors of the home he loved, to banish its joys
and wipe out its happiness.
These young men were nearly frenzied with ecstasy
as the wine cup, the great mocker, witli all its deceptiveness, pictured to them a glowing future-a future,
in which the dullest and most stupid, as well as the
most brilliant mind in the throng, saw the doors of
fortune and fame hard by each other, and both wide
open to admit them, inviting them to come at onceto come hastily-to come by the nearest way, and to
discard from their minds the tedious idea of building
up a temple for themselves, and placing and fitting
each stone with their own hands. Ah! yes; to come
by the bleak and blighted path, along which wine has
led her fame-aspiring votaries.
While these things were passing before the minds,
and whirling in the brains of those young men, Dick
Wilson, to all appearance, felt it to be a night of cheer
-of rich, innocent enjoyment. But then he knew
not by what a fearful voice he was soon to be awakened from the embrace of the charmer; little did he




NEWS FROM HOOME.-A SAD CHANGE.    51
dream at that moment a mother and two sisters were'watching the fast glazing eyes of a dying father, whose
pleasant words and gentle smiles had greeted him for
the last time. While he was looking at the beauties
of a picture which wine promised to draw for him, his
dear ones at home were looking upon a cheerless reality, which wine had painted for them, and to which
the privileged rumseller had added the last touch of
his scathing pencil.
When Dick Wilson returned to his own room that
night, he threw himself down, with apparent unconcern, upon a lounge, and while musing there, he sud
denly caught a glimpse of something suspended to
his mirror. He looked at this a moment without
moving, and then rising hastily, he advanced to examine it, and found it to be a letter from his mother,
which some thoughtful person had brought from the
office, and placed in that position, that he might the
more easily find it. On opening it, he exclaimed,
"'Why, this is from mother!-something must be
wrong."  The letter contained a simple request for
him to come home immediately, and bring everything
with him. "This," said he, "is strange indeed.
Mother has written to me to come home at once, and
to bring everything with me, and there is not a word
of explanation about it. They can't have any prejudices against this school, and intend sending me some*
where else. No, this is not the reason; for in that




52                DICK WILSON.
case father would have written. They can't be sick;
for it was only the day before yesterday that I received a letter from them, and they were all well. I must
look again at the other letter."  He ran his eye over
it carefully, and at length he said, "Yes; here it islittle Harry is slightly indisposed. Yes, here is the
secret," he continued; "my poor little brother, very
unexpectedly to them, at the time of writing this letter, may since have become very sick, and perhaps he
is dead; and if this is so, my arrival at home will not
be greeted, as formerly, by smiles and joys, but by a
heart-broken household."
Just at this moment, and while Dick was still
trembling in uncertainty, a young man who had made
one of the company during the evening, entered his
room. It was evident enough that this young man's
brain was still restless, and he determined to say
nothing to him about his letter. After some time
his friend observed Dick's uneasy manner, and inquired what was the matter. Dick at once informed
him.
" Well, if I were in your place, Dick Wilson," replied the young man, "I wouldn't go-at all events, I
wouldn't go for my mother's saying so. Yes, yes, indeed, a mother-she is the last person I would think
of obeying, or whose right to command I would acknowledge.'Come home, immediately, and bring
everything with you.' I'll tell you, Wilson, that's a




NEWS FROM IOME.-A SAD CHANGE.    53
sweeping command to come from a mother. But I
suppose you won't be fool enough to go."
"Yes, I will," replied Dick, sharply; " I will leave
by the stage in the morning."
"Well, now, Dick," continued the profligate young
man, "I would not go-at any rate until I should receive another letter; and if they want you badly it
will soon come, and your father will write it, and he
will give you the whys and wherefores. What do
you think is wrong at home, Mr. Wilson?"
-"I don't know," replied Dick; "but I fear a little
brother may be very ill, or perhaps dead."
"And you will go home for that?"
"' Certainly!" replied Dick.
"Well, I guess I wouldn't do any such thing-not
for a mother's command, nor to see a little dead
brother, either.   Vhy, my folks, I don't believe,
would send for me, if all the family should die; for
they have come to the conclusion that I will have my
own way, and necessity has compelled them to give
me free passes, and I'm my own man, and independent of mothers and dead brothers. I'm bent on enjoying myself."
Here the conversation ended. Dick slept none that
night, but busied himself in making preparations for
an early start in the morning. He was thinking of
home, and trying to satisfy himself as to what the
cause of this unexplained request could possibly be.




54               DICK WILSON.
And often, as he looked upon that sleeping figure,
with hat and boots and all on, upon his bed, the perfeet picture of hardened recklessness, did he think of
Frank Hamilton, and of the contrast. And sometimes
he almost concluded that the philosophy of Frank
should be his philosophy. He hesitated, however,
and excused himself by saying, " This fellow would
have been a brute if wine had never been made!"
Dick Wilson arrived at home, and was greeted by
the wail of a weeping family. Just as he entered the
door, his sister Eliza threw her arms about his neck,
saying, 
" Dear, dear Dick, poor father is dead!'"
The shock was sudden and appalling. He felt in
a moment how insecure were the hopes of life. But
he did not know until the next day that they were to
be driven into the street by the law which protects
this species of murder, and which in so many cases
gives the administrator of rum complete control over
the estate of his victim.
Who calls this innocent? Oh, if it be, whisper it
not in the hearing of the lisping child! Whisper it
nowhere, but among the hopelessly depraved!  Go
where humanity has erected a shelter for the rumseller's worn-out victim, and if you tell that poor creature that it is innocent, he will tell you that it is false!
Here stood Dick Wilson, with this appalling evidence
staring him in the face. Could he say, as he l oked




NEWS FROM HOMIE.-A SAD CHANGE.         55
upon this dark picture, and saw it in all its horror,
that no blame could be attached to the rumseller?
No! But as he saw the change, for which he was unprepared, is it not probable that in the depths of his
own heart, bitter, burning curses were muttered
against the cause and the agencies which had so early
blighted his fair prospects, and withered the hopes of
his home? It would be strange, indeed, if he did not.
God himself looks with abhorrence upon such agencies, whose fearful ravages cover the land. And must
they still go on? Is there no way to check the fearful
flood of ruin? There is. A light looms up in the
east, full of hope and cheer to the friends of humanity!  By it you may read the me, mene, tekel, upharsin-the rumseller's doom! THE MAINE LAW Is
ENACTED!! Already have its benignant influences
pervaded the border State, and have' swept, with
electric rapidity, over every State of the Union. On)
this, Humanity fixes her hope-a foundation firm as
the rocks of its parent State.
r.-'X~         -' -  *:.   >
Dick Wilson had just carried into a very small
house, situated in a part of the city frequented by the
inheritors of poverty, the last articles of their scanty
furniture -all that the lawt and the rumseller had left
them. Deep agitation was visible in Mrs. WVilson's
countenance, as her eyes fell upon the few precious
relict'which remained of her once ample establish



56              uDICK WILSON.
merni. With them were connected the fondest and
most endearing, as well as the bitterest recollections
of her life. _lere was a memento of the sunny period
of her existence, the sight of which brought vividly
and at once to view, the love, the devotion of him
who was then the fond father, the more than devoted
husband,-there a relic, reminding her of the many
years of domestic happiness which she had passed in
tdal house, from which she had been so suddenly and
ruthlessly driven.
There may be some who cannot realize the feelings
of this family at that moment, and others still who
may say, "It is well enough, for aristocracy ought to
fall."  Well, you are supremely cruel. If you had
been a beggar at Mrs. Wilson's door, in the time of
her prosperity, she would not have turned you away
empty; but she would have supplied your wants, and
given you a kindly word. Nor would she have forgotten to ask you if there were others in your home
who needed her assistance. Even the old drayman,
with his rough exterior and sun-browned face, could
feel for them. He had known them  in the day of
their prosperity, and now, in the day of their adversity, he wats doing what he could to assist them, and
one could see, in his cheerful movements, the character of his heart.
There is something noble in a strong man's tear. It
bespeaks a cause, under the influence of which it has




NEWS FROM HOME.- A SAD CHANGE.          57
been forced from its hiding place. A tear, denoting
the true nobility of his nature, stood in the eye of old
Donald, as he spoke his word of cheer to Mrs. Wilson,
before leaving the door:
"Many, aye, many a time, Mrs. Wilson, has ould
Donald seen the like of this. Yes, sure, madam,
they're sorry days, but they must be borne; but it's
weel to trust in God-it's always weel to do so, in
riches and in poverty. Yes, madam, God will pay
these workers of iniquity for the sorrow they have
brought to you;" and brushing the tear from his eye
with his sleeve, he spoke gently to his horse, and departed.
"Mother," said Dick, as he seated himself in a
house which gave unmistakable evidence that for a
long time it had been consecrated to poverty —
" mother, dear, dear mother, can it be possible that we
are really in this situation, and that this is all that is
left to us?  Is it merely in a dream that I see this
misery? Is this my mother, my sweet sister, my dear
little brother?  Then where are the rest?  Ah! yes;
but it's not a dream. I understand it-it's only too
real. The rumseller-the rumseller I What a name l
-what a power!-vwhat a destroyer!"
"My son, be' calm," replied Mrs. Wilson; "let us
give this dark cloud an opportunity to pass over. We
are here, my son, alone; and this is all that is left to
us. But, my dear children, you are spared to me, and




58                DICK WILSON.
we to each other, yet. Richard, I saw this storm
coming. I saw it when it first appeared in the horizon, and I labored to arrest it; but I failed. It came
to me, my boy, after all, nearly as suddenly as it did
to yourself. For some time I vainly hoped that if I
could not prevent it entirely, I might at least be able
to make it linger in its coming; and what you see,
with the exception of seven hundred dollars, which
was in my possession at the time of your father's
death, is all that we have left. But, with this you
can finish your profession, and when once you are admitted to the bar, I think I may hope, my dear son,
that you will be able to make some provision for us
all. Richard, my first born, our staff and stay is
broken of, and we must lean upon you. You must
be our protector: you must be our defence. It seems
to be too hard for you: the load is too heavy. A 
mother, and sister, and brother, all helpless as children. Oh i it was cruel in the rumseller thus to torture us."
"Yes, yes, dear Dick," exclaimed his sister, throwing her arms about the neck and kissing the fine fore.
head of her brother, whose spirit seemed indeed
broken; "yes, my brother, you are our only dependence, and to you we must cling. You are our only
earthly protector, my dear brother. This change has
been severe, Dick; but still, it might have fallen with
greater severity. God is good, for he has spared you




NEWS FROM HIOME.-A SAD CHANGE.    59
to us yet, and we will pray for you continually, that
you may not be taken from us. Poor dear Ellen, it
is well that yozu are gone. I am sure your gentle
spirit is in heaven. I see still the sweet, serene smile
which death left upon your lips, and memory, dear
Ellen, will ever fondly cherish it. Yes, Dick, she is
gone. She is done with the sorrow of this toilsome
way. And I have just been wondering with myself,
whether it may not be entirely consistent with the
Divine government, that the spirits of the just made
perfect by the blood of the everlasting Covenant, may
not have some knowledge of this world still; and also
whether they are not sometimes sent on errands of
mercy, to brighten the hopes and lighten the toils of
the earthly pilgrimage of their friends. If such per,
mission is given in the courts of the redeemed, then
we will have the gentle spirit of a glorified sister to
sympathize With us in our gloomy'path, and He who
has been her friend may be ours. But oh! Ellen, I
miss you much. Your departure has loosened my
hold on life; but I am glad that you are safe-safe
where the cruelties of earth can never reach yousafe in the possession of an enduring home, where
wickedness will never disturb the harmony of your
society. Precious sister! the cold, cheerless storms
of life will never beat upon thy pearly path, or damp
thy fervent joys."
Here poor little Harry suddenly joined the group.




60               DICK WILSON.
It was not to be expected that this child would realize
the effect of the change. Indeed, it was all the better
that he did not. But still, he read in the expression
of the rest of the family, the meaning of the double
inheritance, of orphanage and poverty.
"Come here, my poor child," said Mrs. Wilson, noticing the evidence of melancholy which shaded his
dimpled cheeks. The little fellow sprang at once into
her arms, exclaiming, as if he knew his mother's need
of consolation," Dear mamma — little Harry loves mamma I"
"Ah, my poor child," said Mrs. Wilson, "I am
glad that you do not know the sad.realities of this
hour; but if you live you will know them. I hope,
my child, that if God spares your life, that it will be
your privilege to live and act with men who will be
much wiser than their fathers. I hope that in your
day, the luring temptation which has scathed us will
be better understood; that defenders of the right will
band together for its extirpation. My prayer is, that
my dear boys may be workers in the noble cause. It
would make up, in some measure, for the troubles of
this hour, if I could see my children safe themselves,
and then, with a noble magnanimity, throwing out
their influence to save others. Poor child! If your
mother can only be permitted to keep you under her
own protection until your character is formed, she
will try to bear up under the burdens of life with re



NEWS FROM HOIME.-A SAD CHANGE.    61
signation. But O Godl!-Father in Heaven! spare,
oh, spare, if in the wisdom of thy connsels it may be
done-spare my life, until these dear ones, whom thy
kindness hath given me, are safe from the tempter's
snare! Teach, I pray thee, 0 Father in I-Heaven! a
broken-hearted inother to say'Thy will be done!'"
At this moment, while the eyes of that brokenhearted mother were intently fixed toward heaven, as
if waiting some answer, or the assurance that her
prayer was heard, and while mute and melancholy
despair was depicted upon the countenances of her
orphan group, a tall, well-dressed, but uncouth looking man entered the room To this family, at this moment, he was a revolting object, and they shuddered
as he seated himself. His swaggering air, and his
cold, unsympathizing countenance, pointed him out
as belonging to that class of men to which their bitter
sorrows were directly traceable. The manner of his
entrance pointed him out at once as one who was lost
to all the finer sensibilities of humanity. An unannounced entrance is a privilege which none but the
meanest will avail themselves of, any more at the
threshold of poverty than at the door of munificence.
"Is this where Mrs. Wilson lives?" inquired the
intruder.
"It is, sir," replied Mrs. Wilson.
"Well, ma'm," continued the man, "I've had a




62              DICK WILSON.
devil of a time in finding you out. I guess you don't
know me, ma'm."
" No,' replied Mrs. Wilson, "I do not."
"Yes, I see-just as I supposed. People never
know me when I want to get my own. This ain't the
first time widows haven't known me; and this ain't
the first time, neither, that I've seen children holding
on to their mother, as if I was the devil. Your husband knew me, ma'm; yes, he did, devilish well. I
wish to the Lord he had made it convenient to have
paid me his rum bill before he went off. But I guess
he didn't think of going off quite so soon. Your
husband, ma'm, was a very clever man-indeed, he
was an excellent man; and if it hadn't been for them
infernal gambling scoundrels at the, he would
have stood it a good while longer. I have a matter
of fifty dollars against your husband's estate, Mrs. Wilson, and I called at this time, supposing, perhaps, that
there were some valuable articles which you had kept
back, and some of which, perhaps, I could get. I would
take anything you can give me, to make up the amount.
I'll not be hard, Mrs. Wilson, for God knows you've
suffered enough already. Some people think it ain't
wrong to hide property; but I'll tell you, ma'm, its
all wrong to do so-and people who do it can't expect
to prosper. I should think, from your appearance,
Mrs. Wilson, that you wouldn't do anything that's
wrong, if you only knew it. Now, I declare it's a




NEWS FROM HOME.-A SAD CIHANGE.    63
God's truth, if you have anything laid away, in money
or goods, it's very wicked in you to do so. When I
saw Mr. Wilson last he had an elegant gold watch,
and I tried hard to get it of him, but he said it was
for his son. Now, Mrs. Wilson, I suppose you are a
Christian; then just think of this."'Then, sir," replied Mrs. Wilson, "I understand
my husband was in your debt. Is this the entire
claim that you had against him?"
" No, indeed, ma'm, it is not. I have recovered
fourteen hundred and fifty dollars. I took your piano,
at the hands of the auctioneer, at three hundred dollars.
It's an excellent instrument, Mrs. Wilson. I think I
made something there! I bid off a good many articles
that I ain't a judge of, and can't tell how I've done."
"Will you have the goodness to tell me, sir, what
my husband had in value to the amount of fifteen
hundred dollars?"
"Well, madam, I'm  an honorable man, and I
wouldn't cheat; but your husband had full value for
the amount."
"Wfill you then tell me in what business you are
engaged?"
"I am engaged in the coffee-house business, if you
must know, and it's a respectable business too, as well
as a living business."
" Ah, yes, sir," said Mrs. Wilson, "you are a liquordealer."




64               DICK WILSON.
"I have my father's watch," said Dick; " we have
a little money; you see our furniture,-we have hid
nothing. Here you see all that your traffic has left us
of earthly goods. IHere we are, clinging to the wreck
that you, in part, have made, and your heartless
avarice would lead you now to sink us if you could.
Ah, sir, we detest your vocation. You can leave as
soon as possible. We are not in your debt, except
for the bitter cup of misery which you have placed to
our lips. The law has paid you too much already."
" Richard, my dear son," said Mrs. Wilson, " suffer
not this man to excite you to anger."
" My dear mother," said Dick, wiping his eyes and
brushing back his hair with his hand, " I am not an.
gry-there is no room now in my heart for anger. I
am only telling this man what he ought to know.
There are thousands in this city who think as we do
about this business, and who know the mischief he,
and others like himself, are doing; but for some
reason others regard them as public benefactors! I
wonder, mother, that the love they bear their own
children does not compel them to wake up, and make
war upon this great scourge of the race, which has
filled every path of vice to overflowing."' Madam," said the liquor-dealer, drawing himself
up with a peculiar dignity, " I don't want to quarrel
-I love peace: I only want my pay."
"I am unable to pay you, sir," said Mrs. Wilson,




NEWS FROM  O HOOME.-A SAD CHANGE.    6b
"without distressing my family, and that I am unwilling to do. They sre now distressed, I fear, beyond
their cpacity to endure. Besides, sir, it would be
paying you for the cornmmission of a crimne  one which
God has now charged against your soul!  Have you
a family, sir?  And if so, try at this moment to put
yourself and them into our position, and then ask
yourself whether you would feel as you now do!"
" Yes, ma'm, I guess I have a family, and a big one,
too! [But they don't give me much trouble, I assure
you. I have set it down as a fact, that children raised
about a house like mine, never amount to much, unless by accident. While I live, I suppose they can
live, and when I'm dead they must scratch for themselves. I never look forward."
"I should think not," replied Dick, sharply.
"Well, sir," continued Mrs. Wilson, "as for my little family, they are very precious to me. I love them
as I think a mother ought to love her children, and if
it is possible to do so, I want to keep them together,
that their affection for each other may not be sullied,
and that they may grow up to usefulness and respectability. Thus far, they know nothing about a barroom, and I trust in God they never will! I hope
they will learn to look upon that room, wherever it
may be-no matter how well its hideousness may be
masked; no matter how its deformities may be covered over, by the witchery of fashion-I hope they




-66              DICK WILSON.
will regard it as a room containing the element of
every vice."
" Now, let me tell you, madam, as a friend, you
can't keep your family together-that's impossible l
After all, it ain't worth doing, any how; and if you
could do it, it wouldn't pay! Children never pay for
the raising of them; and natural affectionm-it ain't nothing at all. There is nothing in it; it's all moonshine! I suppose it's about the same kind of affeclion which two horses, or two oxen, which are fed together, and drove together, have for each other. This
natural affection is off the same web with preaching,
and praying, and psalm-singing, and the like. It's all,
folly; and you find mighty few in my business who
are fools enough to follow in this road. Hadn't you
better pay me, Mrs. Wilson, and let me be going?"
Without waiting for a reply, he turned to Dick, and
said: " That young boy sitting there would be squire,
I suppose. Now, Mrs. Wilson, if you would just do
your duty, and get these notions of high life out of
his head, and let him know that he has to dig for a
living now, and start him out, just at once, to begin
it; and that little one," pointing to little Harry; "if
you would give him to some one for his keeping, it
would be the best thing that you could do."
Here little Harry, as if terrified by hearing his
name articulated by such lips, bounded at once into
his mother's arms, exclaiming



NEWS FROM  OME. —-A SAD CHANGE.    67
"M amma won't let man take me-little Harry love
mamma."
6No, my poor little son," said Mrs. Wilson, "not
while life lasts I I thank God fervently, my orphan
boy, that you are not a little slave. If you were, you
might be wrung from my bosom-torn from my embrace, or flogged at my feet. But thank God, you
are a little freeman, and if you are the heir of orphanage and poverty, the rumseller can neither buy you
nor sell you.'H eaven be praised for kindness in
giving to you a white skin."'
"Oh, yes," continued this wolfish intruder, " I've
heard all this a great many times. It's lost all its
effect on me, I assure you it has. It's no use to argue
in that way with me. I say, ma'm; if you will give
him away, it will be better for you. He will soon
forget you; and then it will be just as well for both
of you. And your daughter! She is big enough,
and I dare say old enough, to earn her living; and it
is your duty, as a good mother, to put her out to work,
and if you do not do it, I think the poor-master ought
to do it for you. That girl is pretty, and after some
telling, she could wait at a table nicely. If it wasn't
just for one thing, I should like to,have her in rmy
house. If I did take her, to work out this bill of her
father's, I suppose she would want to stand on a level
with my girls and my wife. They are real high-fliers,
and wouldn't stand it nohow; and what's more, I




68               DICGK WILSON.
wouldn't be able to get no good out of any of them.
Just open the door and tell them to go. I'll go bail,
they will do something before they starve! What do
you say, Mrs. Wilson?"
"I say, sir," said Mrs. Wilson, while her features
glowed with a consciousness of princely superiority,
over the ruffian in her presence; " I say, sir, you are
as mean as you are murderous. You are as insolent
as you are vile; and you are as sure, as you are deserving, of your place at last! Know, then, that
Mary Wilson, once the wife, and now the widow, of
him whom she tenderly loved; whose memory she
still cherishes; whose children she loves better than
she does her own life, and whose natural affection for
each other rises far above your brutal apprehensionknow, then, that these dear ones, to whom your wanton agency has brought a filled chalice of misery;yes, sir, or villain, as you may choose, know that only
God can part me from children! Give this boy away I
Turn him out into the street to beg, and force him to
become a thief! Sooner would I give the last drop
of blood which circles in my veins! Give my daughter to you, to wait at your table-to be on a level with
your daughter! No, sir; rather would I follow her
to the grave! I want you to leave this house if you
will do it. Do not, I beseech you, kill us by your
cruelty."'Yes, ma'm," he replied, "I wouldn't stay long




NEWS FROM HOIE. —-A SAD CHANGE.    69
with such dishonest folks.'Nice Christianity, this'
-but it won't pay honest debts."
He rose tfo depart, but turned when he reached the
door, and axing his eye upon Dick, he muttered"You young devil, you! If you had been away,
I should have got my pay; but I shan't lose it, I'll
go bail for that. I'll get it out of some other foolyes, that's what I will. Good-day, madam. Keep
your natural affection-maybe it will make you rich,
and then you will think of honest debts; and maybe
you won't call decent people rum-mongersl"
Here Mrs. Wilson had a new insight into ways of
misery, of which before she had not dreamed. She
knew how, and by whom, these miseries had been
produced. She knew very well who were the cause
of her sorrow, but until this moment, she did not dream
that even amongst this class of men, there were any
who were wanton enough, willingly, much less maliciously, to add a single pang to her overflowing grief.
But Mrs.Wilson was mistaken. The path along which,
hitherto, she had travelled, was one peculiarly exempted from the insults of the rude and unfeeling, but now
the barriers of fortune were swept away, and already the
beasts of the field had well-nigh destroyed everything.
"I suppose, my children," said Mrs. Wilson, "we
must now make up our minds to be governed by the
straitened laws of poverty, and we will no doubt find
them severe enough, until we get familiar with them.




70                DICK WILSON.
I suppose, too, that our caste has gone with our
wealth, and that we will be excluded from the society
in which we formerly moved. This I think is cruel.
I have, when a child, stood by the hive, when as
many bees as could find a share in the work, were
carrying out a dead one, but I never saw them carrying out a living one, unless it were a drone, or a thief.
In their misfortunes they protect each other; and
what a rebuke do they, by their simple instinct, give
to the cold formalism of reason! We are not deacd,
my children-neither are we drones; and most of all,
we are far from being thieves; but yet, I apprehend
we must make up our minds that there is but little
sympathy for us. Those whose protectors perish, as
your father did, my children, I suppose are very much
like ourselves-widows and orphans, for whose protection there is but little civil or social law. But it is
not so with those who have brought this affliction
upon us; they are protected; their business is legalized; they are privileged to work wickedness with
greediness, and to wring, even from penury, the last
cherished article, around which the affections and associations of the household have fondly clustered.
Ah, but the widow! Where is she? And where her
orphan children? The fox and the wild deer can find
a covert in the forest's shade-but where is her's?
Where the repose for her dear, dependent orphans?
Only in Heaven I 0 God, preserve them I Relieve their
bitter agonies, and minister to their many wants!"




CHAPTER IlL.
LEAVING A DESOLATED HOME.
"And 1-but ah! can words my loss declare,
Or paint th' extremes of transport and despair!
O thou, beyond what verse or speech can tell,
My guide, my friend, my best beloved-farewell "
IT was now out of the question for Dick Wilson to
return to the law-school at C  -, where he had commenced his legal studies, and at which he had spent
one year to good advantage.  With this impossibility
before him, he had entered into correspondence with
a lawyer about one hundred miles distant, in a small
country seat, and had succeeded in making satisfactory
arrangements with him; and all that was necessary
now for him was, as soon as possible, to be on his
way.
He had been from home many a time, and long.
Nearly all this time, with occasional vacation intervals, had been spent among strangers for several
years; so that Dick's empty chair and unused plate
at the family meal, were no strange things to the
family.
To see him preparing to go, and going, was nothing




72               DICK WILSON.
new.  This time, however, it was peculiar. When
he left formerly, it was from a princely dwelling, and
an unbroken, happy household. These now were
changed. Friends, too, came forth to cheer him on
his way, and bid him God-speed. Now, he was about
to leave, lonely and alone, to seek a temporary home
among strangers, and with scarce enough of money to
bear him to his journey's end. He was too noble to
take his mother's money, further than was absolutely
necessary to enable him to reach the end of his journey.
" Mother," said he, " I do feel sad this morning."
" What is the matter, my son?" said Mrs. Wilson,
tenderly.
" Ah! mother," he replied, " you cannot hide your
heart from me. I have noticed your struggle in preparing for this hour. It has been a mutual struggle
between us all. I have tried to smother my feelings,
but I cannot. We have all failed to hide from each
other the sadness with which this parting hour is necessarily filled. My parting with you now is so new
and so strange, that I cannot but feel it, and painfully
I find myself unable to banish sadness. I am going
now, and I look about me for my father, and am reminded that he is dead! I look for Ellen, and she
too is gone! When I left you last, they were here,
and came out with you to cheer me on my way. I
look-yes, and for days I have looked for friends,




LEAVING A DESOLATED HOME.          73
who never failed until now to come, and but three as
yet have darled to venture within this enclosure of poverty. These absent ones, mother, are not dead, but
they have lost their friendship for us. WVhy is it that
no one cosmnes to see me before I go?"
Mrs. Wilson and Eliza were mute from emotion, and
Dick continued:
"Mother-Eliza —can you tell why it is?  Have I
done anything to merit this?  No, no; you all know
that I have not, and they know it too. They ought
not to hold me responsible, and make me and you
sufferers for the rurmse ler's crimes; for already we are
suffering at his hands all that we can endure. It is
indeed cruel that the widow and her orphans, already
sorely smitten, should be still deeper wounded by the
indifference of those who were formerly friends. I
am now about to leave the few who are dear to mleall that I have left to love in the midst of averted
faces-with those with whom you are as well acquainted as you are with me, and who, to all appearance,
but a few weeks since, were your best and warmest
friends. Ah! mother, where are they now? I have
seen enough in a few weeks —much that I have not
told you-to convince, not only my judgment, but
mny very heart, until it has sickened at the sight, that
whatever we may have been, it is now all over! Yes,
the dark side of a dark picture is shading us now, and
with a few exceptions we are friendless, uncared for,
D




74                 DICK WILSON.
and alone, only because the rumseller has robbed us.
If this were all, it could be endured. Oh! yes; we
might afford to part with such heartlessness without a
tear or a regret. But this is not all. When necessity
compels you to go into some fashionable street, yoi,
will meet many of these persons who will take no no
tice of you-at least they will affiect not to notice you,
lest'they should compromise their dignity! As soon
as they have passed by you, they will whisper to their
companion,' There goes the drunkard's widow!' And
you, my dear sister, as you meet them in the street,
without any tokens of recognition on their part, they
will say,' There goes the drunkard's daughter!' And
of poor little Harry, they will say,' There goes the
drunkard's son 1' This, mother, to us is an insupportable load; for at this time a generous sympathy of
that kind, which I think human beings are under obligations to share with each other, is absent entirely;
and the voice of the multitude articulates the withering sentence,' lThis is. the drunlcard's fcmily' To me,
mother, while I hope it may not be my sad misfortune
to fall a victim to the rumseller, and be an inheritor
of the fortunes which always follow his victims to the
grave; it is no strange thing that the drunkard's son,
with his cheerless heritage, so often follows in the path
of his father, and becomes a drunkard too. It is vain
to attempt to attribute this entirely to hereditary causes,
for surrounding influences are the most active agen



LEAVING A DESOLATED HOME.          75
cies, and effect more than the mere force of instinct.
No, it is not strange. It is rather to be expected. It
is just that, for the coming of which those deepest
read in human nature would fearfully look. They
would not regard its coming as a mystery. There is
no mystery about it. Self-respect-the guardian segis
of society-is withdrawn, and tempters are often but
too successful. Who cares for the drunkard's orphan?
Only the few. Who cares for the widow?  Who
speaks kindly? Only the few. The language of the
many is the language of harshness. Is it strange,
then, that a pupil in such a school as this-with the
tempter on the one hand, enticing to ruin, and society
on the other, repelling the victims-is it strange that
he should fall, and fall irrecoverably? Kindness and
sympathy have a marked and powerful influence for
good over the minds and hearts of the young; and if
we ever hope to reclaim the erring, we shall find these
the most effectual agencies which we can employ for
that purpose. On the other hand, unkindness and indifference have directly the opposite effect: they impel its victims rapidly onward in the paths of vice and
and crime. Yes, mother, until the drunkard's family
become the objects of tender sympathy, a succession
of drunkards may be expected.  How much more
cheerful would our hearts have been this morning, if
some kind friend, as heretofore, had come to speak
words of kindness to us! What a power it would




76               DICK WILSON.
have had to help this poor boy on his unforeseen way I
What a power perhaps in shaping his destiny t Ah,
mother, it is not Mr. WVison's son who is leaving for
college this morning. No, no; it's the'poor drunkard's son' who is leaving-for where and for what, God
only knows, and if Heaven cares no more than men,
he must inevitably be lost!"
As Dick Wilson, from the fulness of his heart, was
giving out these truths, under the influence of which
his heart was smarting, he was suddenly interrupted
by the entrance of one whose visits had always been
welcome, but now they were especially so. It was an
old minister who had known the family for years, and
who had always been on terms of intimacy with them,
and who had spent several days in searching out their
place of retreat. The old gentleman entered with his
kind " good-morning," and seating himself hastily, he
burst into tears,  The transition was too sudden for
him. He was not prepared to witness such an entire
desolation as that which stared him in the face and
chilled his heart as he entered. After some time, letting fall his trembling hands, which covered his face,
and then wiping his eyes with his bandana, he slowly
raised his head and surveyed the room; and after a
moment, he said,
" This is surely the winter of your life. This, Mrs.
Wilson, is severe;" and then casting a glance min



LEAVING A DESOLATED HOME.         77
gled with love and sorrow, at each of the family, he
continued" Mrs. Wilson, this is a severe affliction through
which you and your dear children are now passing.
You have been made to feel the fury of a storm for
which you were not prepared, and you have been
smitten by it to the earth. But such storms as these
are more frequent than you may suppose. This one
has carried you and your children far out upon the
cheerless ocean, whose billows are first created and
then maddened by rum. Your position in society has
not given you as good an opportunity to observe and
know what is passing, as nmine has given me. For
fifty years I have been a watchman upon the wall. I
have been unfaithful; my heart has been harder than
it ought to have been; and yet, (to the praise of His
grace be it spoken,) I think He has sometimes enabled
this stammering tongue to lift up the voice upon the
wall, and win a few from the paths of vice to the
pleasant ways of virtue. I have seen much —much, at
at the recollection of which I shudder. But surely,
Mrs. Wilson, it is a great consolation, and one with
which none should fail to familiarize themselves in the
day of prosperity, that there is a God. It may do
when fortune is smiling, and when friends in name
are flattering, to trust in this world; but when the
long day of bleak adversity gathers about our path,
God then is our refuge-God, in whose presence the




78               DICK WILSON.
selfish inequalities of earth dwindle into insignificance.
You are not alone, Mrs. Wilson, in this suffering.
Would to God that you were. But you are not.
Thousands upon thousands of such wrecks as yours
strew the beach of this ocean! Yes, the land is flooded with widows and orphans whose husbands and
fathers perished in its bottom. But these mingling
prayers and groans-these tears and screams-these
terrible anathemas against the rumseller, are daily ascending to heaven; and God will answer them, and
his avenging fury will be poured out upon its authors
and abettors. It has often brought sadness to my
heart, as I have looked at this systematic destroyer of
the human family, to see the influences by which it is
upheld, and without which, of its own rottenness, it
would fall to pieces. But, Mrs. Wilson, you have
yet much to live for. You are not only a widow, but
you are the mother of orphans, and you have before
you at this moment a treasure for which you would
not take the world in exchange. Here you see where
the goodness and severity of God mingle, and where,
notwithstanding these calamities, he still is love.
Your relations to these dear ones has a fearful importance; for they will wear some impression of yourself
forever. It is not improbable that these children,
now sitting by your side, will keep some memento of
you throughout eternity. Poor things!  They are
pale and dejected now; but they may become strong




LEAVING A DESOLATED HOME.           79
again when this storm has entirely passed over. But
still, sooner or later, like a rose on its fragile stem, or
the full-grained corn in the ear, they will bow their
heads, and lisp their mother's name for the last time
upon earth. Yes, mother of this riven group, your
tears, your breaking heart manifest the keen agony of
your grief. But it is not improbable that when sun,
and moon, and stars shall fail, and when eternal noon
shall abide in its own sublimity —its grand manifested
reality upon the engulphed wreck of all physical existences,-that still, far on through the mysteries of
that eternal being, and still on through that to which
eternal being shall aspire-aye, in the whispers of
that still beyond-is it not improbable that in light
and joy, or in gloom and sadness, the name of mother,
mzolter, MOTHERI! will still be lisped. As a mother,
what a charge and treasure has God committed to
your keeping   What a fearful combination of mortal and immortal has he entrusted to you for education! Then strive, as you love those immortal beings, and are solicitous for their present and future
welfare, so to touch the gentle chords of their young
being, that each vibration may have an upward tendency-that each echo may have the still small voice
of love for all, and they will be safe-safe from the
rumseller, and safe from the master of his feasts. We
do not live in this world for ourselves alone. No
such prescribed existence belongs to our being. There




80               DICK WILSON.
is no doubt that we live, in part, for the whole human
family —certainly for those who are walking in the
same path with us-fearfully for those of our own
households. I pity that poor creature whose hopes
and whose fears,  whose thloughts and anxieties all
centre in himself, as if he alone were the whole creation. Mrs. WVilson, so teach these children- that every
aspiration of their hearts may be for'whatsoever
things are lovely, whatsoever things are pure,' and
they will never dishonor the sacred name of MOTEERt."
-Turning to Dick, he said:
" And Richard, my boy, I understand that you are
about leaving lhome again; you are now leaving it as
you never left it before, and you will every day get new
insights into the mysteries and mischiefs of the world.
Yrou will meet temptation in new forms, and coming
with new power, and the only way in which you can
hope to save yourself from being contaminated, is to begin at the beginning, and resist the first, and this will
give you new strength to meet and vanquish every subsequent temptation. You cannot tell what form the
temptation may assume, or how beautifully it may array itself, or how eloquently it may plead, or how
sternly it may menace you. But remember, and be
apprized of one thing,'temptation will come;' and if
you yield once, you will probably yield again, and I
may ask, but you cannot tell me, where it will end.
You are one of those young men whose character I




LEAVING A DESOLATED HOME.         81
have often tried to analyze; you are fortunate, and
yet you are unfortunate. Your nobleness will win
for you distinction, if you live and adhere to the ways
of virtue-in which only is safety. But nobleness
has a back-ground; and this very thing, which is so
desirable in human character, unless you guard it well,
will give the polished viciousness of the world a great
advantage over you. You expect to meet temptation
at the hands of the rumseller, and of the winebibber,
but you cannot tell how they will approach you, or
how eloquently they may plead for your successful
distinction. If vice had vice written on its forehead,
if the bar-room- had'TIHE BROAD WAY TO RUIN,' written over its threshold, if the accomplished knave had
knavery branded on his brow, if the merely pretended
friend of humanity had hypocrisy stereotyped on his
countenance, then there would be less danger, my boy,
for your future. There is but little danger that the
poor degraded drunkard will be able to tempt you;
his influence, so far as it would go, would tend to repel. He, poor fellow, an object of compassion rather
than reproach, is the object upon whom the rumseller
has painted, in vivid colors, the fruit of his vocation.
Many of them have left the touch of their merciless
pencils upon his trembling frame; they have parched
and withered and burned up his character, and have
imprinted their own in its stead; and no matter what
he was, or what he -might have been, he is a blank
PD           6




82               DICK WILSON.
now, and he cannot tempt you. But if you are in no
danger here, do not apprehend that there is no danger.
You will meet the gentleman in appearance-you will
meet the friend by profession-you will be met by
beauty in disguise, full of professions, but false at
heart-you will be met by those whose words are flattering, but whose influence is as the poison of asps.
These are terrific temptations, when the agent is bold
enough to filch an angel's being, the better to subserve
his master's purposes. Richard, I tremble as I see you
going out with your noble nature to confront such
agencies as these, and all the advice I can give you, is
to remember to engrave it upon your soul, that by
whomsoever the sparkling glass is urged upon you, to
account that individual your enemy. Ah I but do you
say,'Who is this enemy?' It may be beauty in the
freshness of its bloom, or it may be manhood in the
vigor of its prime, or it may be genteel-looking, but
depraved old age, in its tottering imbecility. If any
or all of these should conspire to tempt you, think of
the _past-think of the future-think of those whom
your going out at this time will leave lonely indeed.
Think, young man, of God; for, after all, no other
power can save you. Reember this, and you will
do well." And here the old man, true to a good old
custom, knelt down and offered up a fervent prayer
for the afflicted family, and for the safety of this young
man, who was going out from their presence to try his




LEAVING A DESOLATED HOME.          83
fortune, under circumstances which the rumseller had
imposed upon him.
"Mother," said Dick,' I feel better now, and you
look more cheerful too; I shall leave you with a
lighter heart than I expected, and oh! mother, I shall
be often with you, and if I only succeed, you will
soon be better provided for than you are now. And
you, my sweet sister; and you, my dear little Harry
-Dick will help you. Mother, when Mrs. Livingston andcl Mrs. Eagleson call, remember me kindly to
them."
The hour at length arrived which was again to separate him from his dear ones. His old trunk, the
same that he had often carried with him across the
Alleghanies, was laid down at the door, and little
Harry was seated upon it, looking intently at his
brother. Eliza was standing by his side, with her
hand resting on his shoulder, and Mrs. Wilson stood
before him, with one hundred dollars, urging him to
take it, but with a filial tenderness he refused it, saying,
"'I have to begin some time-I may as well do it now."
His trunk was placed upon the dray of Donald, the
good-hearted old Scotchman, who was always to be
found when they needed him, and already his faithful horse was moving off.
Dick lingered for a moment, as if loath to leave the
spot, and then beginning with little Harry, he kissed
them all, and without a word, for their hearts were too




84               DICK WILSON.
full for utterance, this poor boy turned upon his unforeseen way.
They watched him until he disappeared, and then
Mrs. Wilson fervently ejaculated, "0 God! preserve
my boy from the rumseller's snare I"




CHAPTER IV.
THE CONTRAST AND ITS CAUSE.
"And is this all? Can reason do no more
Than bid me shun the deep and dread the shore?
Sweet moralist  afloat on life's rough sea,
The Christian has an art unknown to thee:
lie holds no parley with unmanly fears;
Where duty bids, he confidently steers,
Faces a thousand dangers at her call,
And, trusting in his God, surmounts them all."
FRANK: HAMILTON, the former friend  and  classmate of Dick Wilson, had just returned from the law
school at A —, at which place, without any interruption, he had spent the required time, and was
ready to be admitted to the bar at the next regular
term  of court.  On his return, he had received the
cordial and endearing reception which loved ones are
sure to receive when they return home, after an absence from its cherished endearments.  Who does not
know the inexpressible joys attendant upon the return
of an absent one, when death, so often the relentless
spoiler of domestic peace, has not been permitted to
invade the sanctity of the home circle? The home
of Frank Hamilton was just what it had always been,
and than his own family there was none pleasanter on




86               DICK WILSON.
the earth, and than his own sweet sister there was
none whom he accounted dearer or lovelier. They
had all the elements of a happy and prosperous
family. They had wealth in abundance; but even
this, without wisdom, is oftener an element of ruin
than of success. They were somewhat singular; for
with all their getting, they had managed to get understanding. Possessing in an eminent degree that
rare commodity, the goddess of Fashion never found
in them obsequious worshippers.
Mr. Hamilton was-and Frank bid fair to be just
like him-a remarkable man. He usually heard all
the sermons which were delivered in his own church
on the Sabbath day, and so did his family. No excuses were heard about that house on Sabbath morning. Kate never said, " Mother, it's really too warm,"
or, " It's really too cold," or, " I have a slight indisposition," or, "My bonnet is not in order, and I believe I sha'n't go." No, no; when the carriage was
brought to the door, Mr. Hamilton was always careful
to see that all the passengers were aboard. He was a
firm believer, according to the Scottish style, in the
" covenants of promise."  If he dissected a sermonand this he usually did, if it were worth dissectinghe portioned it out to himself and his own family,
and not to his neighbors. When the gentle shadows
of the evening twilight were closing the Sabbath day,
Mr. Hamilton would take his accustomed seat, and




THE CONTRAST AAND ITS CAUSE.        87
then the whole family knew what was coming. Seated there in the usual order, Mr. Hamilton would first
help himself, and then from the same sermon or sermons, as the case might be, he would mete out a portion to each of his family, and endeavor, by explanation, to make them understand and apply it. This
done, Mr. Hamilton would kneel down with his family and invoke the blessing of God upon them; and
here he seemed to realize that he did not live for himself and his family alone. H:e prayed for everything
for which it would not be wrong to pray. He prayed
for the poor drunkard and his little helpless children,
and for his heart-broken wife, and that the rumseller
-the occasion of all this-might be brought to repentance, or else be cut off.
When Mr. Hamilton met the poor drunkard in the
street, whose appearance indicated the excruciating
agony of the dread spoiler, then he had time and he
had a heart to stop and remonstrate tenderly with
him; and often from the lips of the victim, tottering
upon the verge of the grave, and supported by the
hand of his unfed and unclothed child, did Mr. Hamilton hear the interrogation, " Why do you keep these
adders in the street?  Why do you permit these
wholesale curses to exist? I cannot help it. I am
the rumseller's slave. This child is the rumseller's
slave. My wife is the rumseller's slave. Why don't
you help us to break our chains?"




88               DICK WILSON.
When Mr. Hamilton met the boy, about whom the
fruits of this curse was hanging in gloomy profusion,
with a "Please, sir, give me a penny to buy some
bread," then he had an open heart and a kind word.
He never stopped to say to himself —" Well, I don't
know. This boy may be a little thief, or a little imposter," and then bid him be gone. He was always
careful that his influence should never mingle with
the rumseller's, in driving an almost infant beggar to
the commission of crime. rThe great pity and the
great misfortune for the poor drunkard is that so few
have a heart to do what they have plenty of time to do.
In the midst of these associations we meet Frank
Hamilton at home, enjoying them to the very full, delighting himself with the pleasant and familiar appearance of everything about him, the most of which
had been there from his earliest recollection. While
he was musing in the midst of these associations, and
contemplating the beneficent influence which they
had exerted over his life, he was suddenly interrupted by the entrance of Kate, who, with her loud,
hearty laugh, was making everything ring. She approached to where Frank was sitting, and laid her
hand upon his head. It was plain enough from her
mischievous appearance that there was fun in the
neighborhood, and it was just as plain that she knew
all about it, and couldn't keep it half a moment
longer. Suddenly taking from her pocket a beauti



THE CONTRAST AND ITS CAUSE.           89
fully embossed note, she held it before his eyes,
saying —
"Here, Mr. Fran1k Hamilton, Esquire, Junior-for
tllis is the direction-here, I aplprehend, is something
especially sweet for you; for it is a mark of very
great consideration for your precious self from Mrs.
B."
Frank at once opened the evidence of iMrs. BB's
consideration, and then tried hard to read it; and at
length he said to Kate, s-niling:
"This may be my death warrant, for all I can make
out of it.  Suppose you take it, and see what you can
do with it."
Kate took the note; but all her ingenuity could do,
it wouldn't read.  She turned it right side up and
right side down, and every other side; but to no avail.
" well," said Kate, "what's the use of trying?  I
guess it wasn't intended to be read. Still, they were
thoughtful enough to send the interpretation thereof
by the black Daniel who brought it. HIe said it was
an invitation to attend a mighty select party at Mrs.
B's, on next Thursday evening, at half-past eight
o'clock."
" Kate, who is this Mrs. B?  I have no recollection of any such person."
" Oh, she has sprung up since you left; or at least,
she has but recently come into notice.  They have
been in the city for many years, but their business




90               DICK WILSON.
was not very reputable, and hence they were not
known. But they became wealthy, and retired to
private life. This accounts for that stubborn note."
"What was their business formerly, Kate?"
" Rumselling."
"Ah!-rumselling?  And now, because they have
retired wealthy, at the expense, it may be, of a thousand wretched homes, they are very respectable I
Kate, I don't want to go there."
" You must go. There is no way in the world that
you can get out of it."
" Well, Kate, you havn't seen all the world yet,
nor all the ways of it, either. I guess I could get out
of it if I set myself about it. I suppose, however, it
will be best to go."
"That's right, Frank; be cheerful now about it.
These people have abandoned that business, and if
they want to do right during the remainder of their
lives, they ought to be encouraged."
" That depends on the motives by which they were
prompted to give it up. If it was from policy, in
order to find their way into fashionable life, I wouldn't
give much for it. If it was from a conviction of the
pernicious tendencies of their business, then certainly
they ought to be encouraged."
" You will find wine there, Frank, plenty of it, and
if you should be taken with sudden pains, I have no




THE CONTRAST AND ITS CAUSE.        91
doubt that you could be accommodated with something stronger."
"That's the devil's own kind of repentance, Kate.
I see through the whole thing now."
"They have a beautiful daughter."
"She has been brought up in a bad school, Kate."
" She is rich, too."
"Her riches came through a bad channel, my
sister."
"Caroline will be there. What do you say now?"
"Nonsense, my sister. I understand you very well.
You have the same opinion about this matter that I
have. But Caroline! —Why, if you had seen what I
have seen amongst the hills of western Pennsylvania,
you wouldn't speak of her in several moons! I have
no peculiar attachment in that way, and I don't think
I ever shall have."
" Heigl-ho I! Frank-you don't know what you may
have before you."
" That's true; but I know what I will try to keep
from before me-anything that savors of the rumseller's temptation."
" Frank, what objection can you have to Caroline?
She is rich, handsome, and well educated."
" For several years I have been out beyond the restraints of fashion, amongst those whose young spirits,
when once they have tasted of freedom from its chains,
are too noble to be bound by it again. This is a good




92                DICK WILSON.
place to see and study human nature, and I have tried
to improve it. I have formed, or have tried to form,
some idea of what a real life is. I do not mean a
sleepy, dreamy life, in which formality is an abiding
law; but I mean an active, sober, industrious life-a
life which in some sense may be beneficial to others as
well as to one's self.. Now, my objection to Caroline
is precisely my objection to going to this party. As
you say, she is rich and well educated; but you must
excuse me when I say that I do not think her beautiful. Caroline has been educated in the school of that
great mocker, the wine-cup. She has had the example of her parents, in this way instructing her that it
was harmless, and not only harmless, but reputable.
I have laid it down as a rule, or rather as a principle
for the government of my life, that on all occasions
wherever it is possible, I will fly from this temptation.
This, I apprehend, is the safe way; for when persons
recklessly, and in opposition to the dictates of their
own better judgment, put themselves into the way of
temptation and danger, they cannot tell how it will
result, or how far the consequences may reach. I apprehend, Kate, that in this path you will find more
captives than conquerors. My sister, you love your
brother, and you think that he is perfect. This, let
me assure you, is a great mistake. Your brother has
still with him the impulses of youth, with many of
its indiscretions; and he could be led astray, tempted,




TEE CONTRAST AND ITS CAUSE.        93
ruined, and drawn by an irresistible power to the door
of the lowest rumselling den in this city, if he would
suffer himself to take the bait which the rumseller
manages to throw out, often, in the social circle of
high life. I believe, if it had not been for this sacred
book, and what I have learned from it, and the fervent
prayers of my father and mother, that I should have
been ruined. Kate, I have thought that you prayed
for me too-I know you did."
"Yes, Frank, I have. Could I forget you? Could
a sister forget her brother?"
" Many are thus forgotten, Kate, not only by sisters, but by entire households. I know many a poor
young man who never heard a prayer in his father's
house, and for whom, in his absence, no prayers were
offered. I knew that I was remembered by my houisehold. These,;my sister, were the influences which
heretofore have enabled me to withstand temptation,
and now I would not have Caroline, and risk the consequences, for her weight in gold. Suppose I had returned to you a drunkard-for such a thing would
have been possible.  Many a young man returns
home in this way. Many an one in this way goes
home again with blighted prospects and a heavy
heart. If this had been my lot, what would have
paid you, my sister, and my dear father and mother,
for the sacrifice? You could not name the price."
Filank, you are certainly right. But do you think,




94               DICK WILSON.
my brother, that in the simple form of wine, the pure
juice of the grape, there can be the danger of which
you speak?"
" Te epure juice of the grape / Kate, there is not a
more systematic counterfeiting organization in the
world than belongs to the rumselling business. Pure
wine! ~Why, in the whole system of adulteration,
this is the most poisonous and nauseating article they
make, and yet on this miserable stuff, filthy as it is,
many commence their career of dissipation. Ah!
Kate, if the gloomy horrors, the unapproachable miseries of that dark monster-mocker could be painted
out before you on the canvas, you would tremble.
If you could hear, as they have been heard, the touching pleas which misery, in all its grades, has made to
the agents of the monster wickedness, to cease, and
spare their friends,-to save them from  premature
death and a drunkard's grave,-you would more than
tremble. Many an one who has tasted wine for the
first time in a gay group, has finished in the lowest
den. I suppose we had better go to that party, as it
may give offence if we do not. But I do most fervently hope that the time may soon come when an intelligent and sympathetic humanity will no longer
permit this mischievous business to be carried on under the sanction of law. The Italian mode of licensing the assassin is not productive of so much misery
as this is; for at his hand the victim dies quickly. A




THE CONTRAST AND ITS CAUSE.             95
groan-a struggle-a gasp, and it is over; but his
character survives.  But the rum-monger's dagger is
like the lightning's fiery bolt: it selects often the loftiest and finest tree in the forest, and then comes down
in its fury to rend it; and its beauty is gone long ere
its decay. Hiere is the drunkard's great misfortune,
and the rumseller's great crime: the character dies first,
and often the imimortal being waits the slower process
of constitutional decay."




CHAPTER V.
THE CONTRAST AND ITS CAUSE-CONTINUED.
"If hindrances obstruct thy way,
Thy magnanimity display,
And let thy strength be seen;
But oh! if fortune fill thy sail,
With more than a propitious gale,
Take half thy canvas in."
THE evening on which Frank Hamilton was to be
introduced to Mrs. B, her pretty daughter, and a
very select party, at length came.
" Well, Kate," said Frank, "are you ready to go?
If we must go-and I suppose Min. B —-, as a special
favor to us, has decreed that,-I think we had better
be moving soon; for if possible, I should like to get
there at an early hour.  Some persons manage to be
the last to arrive on all occasions. This, I suppose, is
to give as good an opportunity for observation as possible."
Frank had been poring over the pages of a late
monthly, and during all the time in which he was
speaking to his sister, he did not once raise his eyes
from the page, and he started in surprise when Kate
informed him, that already she had been waiting his
movements more than half an hour.




THE CONTRAST AND ITS CAUSE.        97
" Well, then, if we must, let's be off quick. I'm
sure I don't want to be late; though the fact is, I
should rather not go."
"You would look much better, my brother," said
Kate, "if you would turn your attention, with as
much expedition as possible, to making some arrangements in the way of improving your personal appearance, before you go."
" What's wrong now?" inquired Frank.
"Nothing; only I would like to see you brush off
a little of your'back-woods' carelessness."
"That's the way it goes, Kate; but I do wish that
you had a great many things in this endless city which
belong to' back-woods' life. If you had, you would
not be quite so particular about shining collars, boots,
&c. But, what do you want me to do, it's getting
late; we must be in a hurry."
"Frank," replied Kate, " your own taste must direct
you;" and off he went, to make his preparations. In
a few moments he returned again; and to the eye of
an exquisite, it would seem, not much improved; and
just as he entered, he exclaimed:
" Kate, how will this do?"
"Very well, my brother."
" Now, let us go. I will try to equip myself in the
robes of fashion, and arm myself to the teeth with
formality. But I declare, it is so long since I have
made any attempt to change myself into anything
I  E           7




98                  )ICKL  WILSON.
else than a human being, that I am afraid now I shall
make a failure.  I am sure that this hct-cess will be a
miglhty bad fit, and c     don't believe that I shall be
able to keep it on; but perhaps i may do so.
"Just look here a moment, Kate, and  be sober
about it, if you don't I'll call mother.  IHas this collar
a fashionable sit?"
"Y'es, Frank.:"
"How do I look?"
"' Very well, I think."'With this they started for AMrs. B's, whose
wealth rather than worth had brought her into notice.
Frank felt uneasy, for it was the first time in several
years that he had made one of a fashionable -party, but
still, he had his  wits," about him, and a good, wellifounded principle, to assist in giving point and. effect
to them.
"Kate,"  said he, as they tripped alonge the smooth
pavements, which reflected in tl vir:daes the glare of
the street lamps-" if my preferences were consultled,
I shoulcd much have prelfered to remain at our own
quliet home, where we wouclld have epjoyed tlo -free
communion of kindred 1and CO.L1.;      I. 1 spirits; vwhile
here we must be tortured by a cold and(. hleartJless for-'nality-by grossness flimsily hididen  by external glit
ter, and be compelled, by the mnreciless forums of social
despotism, to meet anld mingle with those with whom




THEP CO!TTR2AST A-ND ITS C-AUSE.          9
we have no sympatlhyy, and for whom  we have no
resDect,"' Stop, stop thlis Ionsense,  Frankl, we are just at the
do1or  said Ktaie.
"I declalre,  said Frank, "' rs. B —-- has got up
pretty weil.  By my word, this is a 1t' for a superanuated  nrumseller.  How in creation did this come
about?  It's a perfcct  p la enoeo  to ime."
Stop, Frrank, thej'll b]ear every wTord," said Kate.
At this moment the br1i1i1iant hall, filled with fashion
at thle bidding of notes wvich none cou-ld decipher,
broke fullTy uponu him,, and  at the next moment lie
stood in the midst of the crowdc g'oing throulgh the
ceremniony of greeting old acquaintances, and being
introduced to new f-aces.
Ast lenfth li ItA. and Mrs. B -: camne to pay their
respects to Frank, and as thley were on t~eir way, he
almost smiled  to  see  thlem  coming.  They  Aere
elegantly dressed; b-ut tileir dress, their gait, and their
manners were perfect ct,;2pocres; between them there
was no aglreement.  FT1rank's eye was quickl-and silk,
and satinl, and all the rest couldn't hide from him, the' old times" of their history. They paicl their respects
anc retired across the parlor.  lie had just concluuded
to seat liimsehlf  whenl suddenly a group of you ng
ladies, numberinhg about half a dozen, were seen bending their way towards him,  Ele knew  thenl every
one, and Caroline A.-  was of the number.  The




100              DICK WILSON.
ladies at length reaching him, by a kind of dead march
pace, said,"' It gives us much pleasure to see you, Mr. Hamilton; we hope you are well."
" Thank you, ladies," replied Frank, "I am glad to
see you, and hope you are also well. But come, girls,
don't call me mister, if you please-call me Frank; I
do believe it is the -first time in my life that I have
been called Mr. Hamilton."
" Your wish shall be our pleasure," they replied, as
they turned to leave, in a style which was as much as
to say, "you are not done with us yet, young gentleman."  Perhaps, Frank thought, they were glad to
see him; yes indeed, but they were a great deal better
pleased to have an opportunity at his expense of exhibiting themselves!
"Good evening, Misther Frank," said an old man,
by whom he had seated himself. "I hear you're but
jist now got home from the larnin'; and they tell me
you're done man, and that ye ain't a collegian any
longer.  It's a bad place for boys, isn't it, Misther
Frank?  Faith, thin, I expect you had good times
there, hadn't ye?"
"Oh yes, Uncle Peter," answered Frank, "I guess
I had fine times —-finer than I shall most probably
ever have again."
"I thought so, Misther Frank. Ye see, ye had nothing to do in the first place but to act the gintleman;




THE CONTRAST AND ITS CAUSE.         101
and thin, by me soul, what's a great deal bether-ye
had plenty of money to do it with. You see, Misther
Frank, yer father, like mesel-f he's rich. Is it the law
that ye thinks of larnin' next, Misther Frank, or does
ye think to be a ministher? It seems to be a great
pity, MIisther Frank, if ye thought to be a ministher
in these times. In my poor ould counthry, it was a
brave business, and if poor men got into it there, they
were sure to get rich; but in this country, if rich men
get into it, they're sure to get poor. Now, Misther
Frank, don't bef'a ministher! If ye have a fancy for
the'law,' it will do very well, and ye'll make money
too-and ye'll get rich, and ye'll be a great man-and
ye'll be able to keep in yer house the best wines in the
country —and ye'll be able to do jist whatever ye may
like to do; indeed, Misther Frank, ye will, if ye only
takes up the'law I' But Misther Frank, if ye takes
up the ministhry, as it's called, thin ye'll be poor all
the days of yer life.  Ye may git to Heaven yerself, after a while, perhaps, when you've tugged and
strived till yer tired of life, but ye'll not git many
with ye, indeed ye won't, so ye had better make up
yer mind to do jist what the most's doing-look after
yerself first, and don't trouble the'ould book' too
much."
" Well, Uncle Peter," answered Frank, " I cannot
tell what I may make, but I have studied law already,
and I have studied human nature some, and the'old




102               DIC K WI LSO0.
book' som.e too, and I think it's better -than any or all
of them put together."
"Thin, Misthler Fraik.I:, yer goingll to be yer father
upset, and every one to their likin,:,` muttered Uncle
Peter, applarilently not sat-isfied that ie had failed to
produce conviction on Frank's rain d by 1 is eloquence.
Poor Uncle Peter knew all about a clray and a dray
horse, ancl how,r to manage a hoogshead or a large box
to the best adcvantage. Here- lie hewould have been at
home, perfectly so; b7ut for his present position, he
needed a -rwhole new creation, which nmoney could
never give him, and like Mr. and ildrs. 13 —, he was
most ]profoundly awkward, and equally ignorant.
During  Uncle Peter's harangue, Frank was by bno
means an attentive auditor, for in anothtr'oom  he
thought he saw a disposition mainifested to bring mishap to some one. They were the same persons who,
on his entrance, had greeted him last, and who, on
leaving, had given himn more than half a promise that
they would call again, andc hence it was that hie divided his attention between them and Uncle Peter.
It very often happens that temptations suddenly beset us, and come withl such force, while tl-'s unprepared, as to mnake us their captives. Such was the
object of the young ladies, whose sudden presence
and absence have been noticed. They had determined
to try their powers over Frank, to see if his repLited
firmness, from a l that can intoxicate, could withstand




THilE  CONfTRAST AND ITS CAUSE.         103
the persuasive voice of thle fashionabl' young lady,
and the fishionable wine-glass.
The next moment they stood. be-fore him, and ther!e
vwas no difficulty- in readingg, in their manners and -eatures, that some pl1ot had beeni concerted, and wfas
about to be put into execution;.  They stood in suchL'
a position. as to receive thb  fih.llest attention of the
compas nyJ; a.d o 0e of fte.1numDbert turnino herself in
Such a way as to co  man   d the oest possible view of
hte g'eur-,* n 1 vd of 1Frank tk oo, dis1la.ved a goblet, in
which 6hze,fieru ey0e o/ ie -ias sparklnlr anci delight;ing
itself, i    Prpet of             noner victun tho the
gloomy carcavis, of its it maddened votari es! S-he said,G,'fVrilu. ] { o  1i-air a-JluL.i)1  1leaseiv  to give the con i
pany a sentiCLeni t?
FrankL rlep ied1 —  It; Will  afford h'm  a g'reat deal ofpleasure to gi,, vc yon a sentimellnt ladies; but the conmpany have nUiacde no such recuest e'
W',Tell~ thienn givc urS a senthl ent and that vill do
for;the whole compan; it Will be like saying grace
at the table —..l7 -C:r  cractle /m'' "With pleasure," said Frank, fixing  his eye upc-n1~
the charmer, andcl holding it there un-til hoe was surel
that every one in the house, including Uncle Peter,
gave attention, and then he said, in a clear and- distinct
voiee, while the  wvine sparkledl in the presence of the
company-" I'Fon AT LAST IT BITETH LIZKE A..;ERPENT
AND STING.ETHI LIKE AlN ADDER'."




104               DICK WILSON.
The effect was electric, and the column of attack
quailed for a moment, and many, whose lips were
longing for it, were amazed. They were not routed,
however.  They were in the house of a veteran comnmander, who had been in the habit of doing small
things for a sixpence; and they had great courage, and
came again, saying:'" Perhaps, Frank, you can't relish wine."
"'You are mistaken, ladies," said he,'I do relish it;
but I have seen so many bad consequences es resulting
from its use, I have put myself into a school of abstinence for safety; and on every occasion I will try to
say what I now say-' Get thee behind me, Satan!"'
" Taste this, Frank; it will do you no harm —I am
very sure it won't. What! a taste of wine injure any
one? No, I'm sure it won't."
"So thought many," replied Frank, "who are at
this moment writhing under its cruelties —who are
weeping while you are laughing over it-who are
cursing while you are praising it."
"It won't kill you, Frank. Just taste it."
"So said its master," replied Frank, "on another
occasion:'Thou shalt not surely die.' Did he speak
the truth then?"
Here the entire column was broken, and they retreated amidst the illy-suppressed titters of the better
part of the company.
Uncle Peter, who was seated nearest Frank, looked




THE CONTRAST AND ITS CAUSE.        105
dumb-founded. It was plain enough that he wanted at
least to wet his lips, and he rose to leave, muttering —
" Misther Franlk, that's the effect of yer rasin', and
it's bad."
Uncle Peter's place was supplied in a moment by a
gentleman, who, as soon as he was seated, said to
Frank:
"You are a noble fellow. You have done yourself
great credit this evening, for the noble stand you have
taken againstfashionable wine-bibbing."
"I am gratified with your good opinion, sir," replied Frank; "and of all others, it is the compliment
which I would soonest merit. I am very sure that if
I remain unscathed by this pestilence, I must not listen to the philosophy of fashionable wine-bibbers,
or put my life in the keeping of the rumseller, for the
one is synonymous with the other, and the end of
both is destruction."
Frank had spoken firmly, but not harshly. His
speech was characterized by a courteous dignity of the
true gentleman, and even those who were intensely
mortified by it could find no fault.
"Mr. Hamilton," said the gentleman by his side,
"in this case you have done your duty well, and I
think that every one present is under obligations to
you for the good example you have given, of principle triumphing over pride, and its tendencies to vice.
Will you tell me, Mr. Hamilton, how it is possible
E*




106                 DC1K wIILSONV.
for persoun s occupyiug places in such society as -his, or
indeed in any society, to encourage the use of that
which they know to be the mlost prolific source of
crime and misery?   These people canL  hardly  put
their heads out of their own doors without seeing the
feariful consseauences." 
"W' Vell," replied Frankl,' I do not know thvat I can
give you a satisfactory ans-wer; bu-t to m1y own mtind
it is clear enough, that thlis appareft recklessness is
the res-ult of one or more of these causes, naimely:
inci-ijerenzce, i;roralce  cztindy, or viciou.sne.ess.   Who
can pass along these streets and be ignorant?  Who
can live in the midst' of these conseclucnces, which
startle the stranger as soon as lie enters, until his very
heart sick1ens, and not abhor it?  T tell you, sir, there
is sonmethimng holrible about'this -businss.  Charity
will hardly believe that it is igorance.  I believe it is
indifferenle;'uand what klind  of ilndifference?  The
same that may be laying the foundation of their chili
clren's ruin."
Many tlhings, of course, had occurred during   the
evening; and w-hen  all was over, the sis-ter ancl
brother were mak-ilng  their way toward homle. Fra1nk
was anxious to know what his sister t'rhonuglht of his
management of matters, but did not venture to ask
her un-til they were quietly seated at home, and even
then he dreaded to do so. At last he mustered courage
and said:




THE CONTRAST AND ITS CAUSE.          107
" Kate, how did I mianage matters this evening?"
"Admiraoly, my- brother."
"Upon 1my word, K ate," he replied, "those are
comfortable:words to me. I am glad to hear you say
that."'
~ Frak-, you —c m1lortified those girls al'nost to death,
and I think they will not try a prank of that kind
very soon agaiin  They had the m-atter pretty well
arrange d. There was an abunndance of wine on hand,
andl Mirs B  - an:1   the girls were ve-ry anxious to havce
it going around; and they thought if they asked you
for a sentiment, you could not help giving it, and yon
could not avoid drinking with them, and then it
would have gone round mierrily.  I heard most of the
plan when they were arranging it."
"' Well, Kate, I gave them a sentimen t-the most
appropriate sentiment in the world for the occasion,
and I hope it will do them good."'But, Frank, your sentiment tumbled Mrs.'B -
into perfect con-fusion and mortification,.  She was
very angry at the girls, and said some pretty hard,hings, I tell- you, about their destroying her select
party, &c. T can't tell -you how she did go on.  She
told tl-em that wine wouldn't be a guest at her parties
any more."
" Good' exclaimed Frank; " if she only keeps hte
word; but that's among the doubtful things, I imagine. I am  really glad, Kate t. hat they coimmienced




108               DICK WILSON.
with me. It is a fine thing, my sister, to have a principle, and then to make it a foundation of one's action. Here, I apprehend, is the great misfortune: too
many make their principle a matter of convenience,
and they can put it into their heads, their hearts, or
their pockets, as the case may be; and then their
principle is never found interfering with their desires
or their interests. But something rich occurred there
this evening. As soon as I went in, I found myself
seated by old Uncle Peter, the identical old Irishman
who used to drive a dray for father, about fifteen
years ago. I recollect him very well. He is mighty
consequential in these days. He says he is rich, and
I thought some accident of that kind must have overtaken him, or he would not have been there  and I
shouldn't be much surprised if we were invited to his
house to drink wine before long. The old man took
it upon himself to charge me straitly not to be a minister-not even to think of it, and that I should not
be too familiar with the' old book,' as he called it. I
have no doubt, Kate, that he would have taken wine
quick enough. I did not like to hear that old man
talk so lightly of that book. But it is hard on this
rum business, and those who are in favor with the
one are but little in favor with the other. Those
whose lives are governed by the precepts of the Bible
are armed against temptation. The rumseller's angel
may offer them the world, and they will withstand it,




THE CONTRAST AND ITS CAUSE.        109
To such persons, virtue may ever cling for protection.
They are in no danger of becoming drunkards. They
will not leave widows to weep over the graves of
drunkard husbands; nor children who will be ashamed of their memory. Kate, I should like to see Dick
Wilson. That portrait is himself, exactly. I think it
very strange that he has ceased to correspond with me
entirely. We were intimate friends at college, and he
was a noble fellow, too. I do not think I ever knew
such a generous-hearted young man, and I should like
to know how he succeeds with the temptations to intemperance, which must necessarily have surrounded
his'path. He has had to contend with misfortune,
and it is more the fault of his parents than his own.
His home education was not what it ought to have
been. His mother is an excellent woman, but she
was so pressed by the continued calls of fashion, that
she was robbed of those precious hours to which her
children, before all others, had a claim-those hours
for which you, my sweet sister, and myself, can never
be sufficiently thankful. My mind has often been
puzzled to know if, after all, there are not many parents who care but little about their children. If they
loved them as they ought to love them, they would
certainly be unwilling to send them out into the world
without that priceless treasure-home preparation.




CIXAPTER VI.
RUIISELLERS. —-CAUSES AN'D CONSEQUENCXES.
6 Whose mind can tell what the hearL mlut feel,
That is (loomed to die by the rumseller's s!eel."
IF  Dick Wilson nowr felt, in all its bitterness, the
dire -results whicAh flow from  intemperance, he had at
least been spared the painful ordeal fthrougll which
those results are commonly attained. If his flther had
fallen a victim, and his family been beggared, the result had come -o himn;  qulickly, without many of those
harrowing concomitants whiclh are nsual in such cases.
ie had, in the history of his owin lumisortunles, been
spared the cheerless view of the pvoyresa- of intemperance.  IHe had not seen, w  eek boy week aned month by
maonth, the inroads which i+R was silot - ly tbut surely
makingo into his beloved home, or maillrsed tle plrogress
ive yet fc-arfuli ravages it was making unpon himz whose
name lie bore.  -His experience of -tlle evils of rumbibbing and ritlunse-linog had been indeed severe-as
muheb so as he felt himself able to endurce.  Yet they
had been too circumscribed in -their Trange to give him
a just view of the aggregate enormity of the evil, or




RUMfSELLEPS.-C — AUSES AND CONSEQUENCES.  111
-to impress himit  just views of its causes, or of the
proper rem.edies.
I-ie thought, as many now t-hiin'k that these results
were in certain cases unavoidable; that it was the destiny of some to be victims ani that, though the consequences were deplorable in -tle extrieme, still nothing
could be done to prevent them.  Yet tlhe change in
his o-wn circumlstances,  whrich   had driven him  from
tLhose plans whllich he had1 intended to pursue, and
forced him to take'up his residence in the village of
B   -—, was rapidly changing his views, and showing
him clearly thle dncgerous tendency of his former opinions.  In that villa-elihe had a fine opportUnity to
witness the various manceuvres of those who were attached to the rum  interest, ei-ther by sympathy or by
being ciependcleit upon it for support. In a village, all
that is going on is generally known to its inhabitants,
and there are here no dark, seclluded dens, into which
the rvumseller can thrust its victims, and hide from the
public gaze thle evidence of the ilis of the pernicious
traffic.  Unfortiunately for the viltla.o- to'which Dick
had resorted, while it contained many excellent citizens, it also contained a large numlber of rumsellers,
and many who sympathized with them in their pernicious employment.  To the countenance and influence of the latter, was the rum interest indeibted for
its profitableness-indceed for its very existence here.
There were many of them men of wealth, and of good




112              DICK WILSON.
reputation among their neighbors. Their opinions
were respected, and they were among the first in seeking political preferments and honors; and " help me
and I will help you," was the maxim which governed
them in their intercourse with the rum interest. With
Judge L     for a leader, and the crime-polluted Stevens for a companion, they were prepared to look
with complacency upon all the ills and evils which are
inseparable from the rum traffic, and quiet their own
reflections with the pottage which their votes and
favor might give. In whatever might be attempted
by the friends of temperance, to diminish the sale and
use of intoxicating drinks in the village, these men
were found strongly opposed, and were ever ready
and prompt in argument to maintain the constitutional,
inaienable, and natural rights of those who chose to
do so, to sell rum; and whatever the consequences
might be, it was not the fault of the wily tempter, who
held out the gilded lure, but of the luckless wight
who suffered himself to be enticed to his ruin.
Dick Wilson, surrounded, as he was, by what to
him appeared a new existence, frequently suffered his
thoughts to wander to his desolated home, and to picture to himself its sadness. Unbidden it would rise
before him. A mother in rags and in wretchedness,
lifting her streaming eyes to heaven, invoking God to
send deliverance! He seemed to hear the faint scream
-almost the death-shriek of the starving child, whose




BRUMSELLERS.-CAUSES AND CONSEQUENCES. 113
soul and body seemed to be engaged in rending the
ties by which they were held in their mysterious
union, and thus escape the cruelties of the destroyer.
But Dick's image of a drunkard's home did not depart.
Hie was just rising to close the office, when a person
whom he had frequently met in the street, entered.
For a moment he looked at Dick, and then seated himself. There was, to Dick, in the person of this individual, at that moment, something surpassingly amiable. His plain drab coat, round-breasted, according
to the fashion that has passed away, his broad-brimmed
hat, his white cravat, with his collarless shirt, anid
care-worn yet calm expression of countenance, pointed him out to be, what Dick knew he was-a Methodist minister, of the old pioneer stamp. After a few
common-place remarks, the old gentleman said to
him,"Mr. Wilson, your countenance had a very sad expression when I entered, and it is not yet entirely
gone.'"
" Yes, sir, I feel so at times."
"There must have been a fearful picture in your
mind, Mr. Wilson, to have left such an expression on
your countenance."
"Well," said Dick, "it may surprise you a little,
but I have been trying all the evening to put together,
in my own mind, the picture of a drunkard's home.




114                  DICK'WIL SON.
it is a gloonlmy su.bject sir-'one upon which peculiar
circe-mstances only could comnlel me to linger for a
mnomeCnt.  I think it aplpear'ed to mly imaoination even
mnore uTivid  than- t;le sa.C realie.y itself."
iDo yoe 0  t hlinkC youn hCave succeCele-,  2I!rn  i'ilson,
in paint1ing th-t   ilost horricd and ire oltinlo -n ) re?Li
" I doC)% Sir1
Then oaz    have i 0lone   -t our artists have not
been abln to acco-nplish.  You ha-Te orl paiineJ a dtrunlard.'s home'  Oc h u     no, s;r youa have not Joline tl c.
It cannot be painted upon the earLhi.  WhXee  did you
-Aut thle sozi?'
IV Twas onlly tryil;ng, to piml-ft an.1 (earthlvy  pe'tUre',
said Dick.' "Itere  did[ y on pa-Lint the 1ruimceller? con-tinued
the old man.il
"Now' re;" snid Dick, trying to smtile.  "I would,not hlave his counateIance on one of' my pictures: it
irould ed,wr t."'
"Yes,  truly it wo-uld, Mr. Wilson.  It mcrs and
defgacdes everythiiing it touches.  The universe of Gocl
is less.beautiful and harmonious than it would be,
were there  no  rumnsellers.  They are doing  harm
everywhere; and if the evening were not so far spent,7
I would paint the double picture of a ru-mseller and a
drunkard's home, as I have sceen theim  togfether.  I
understandc, Mr. Wilson, you are fron  P —-," said
the oild gentleman.




UAMSELLERS. —CAUSES AND CONSEQUENCES.  115
" That is mly native place," said Dick.
I was once acquali;ecld thlee," said the old minister, and then addecl d- Do you know alnythilng of a
gentleman of vour namAe w\ho wasls a merchant there 7?"
C'  cild know sucl a pelrson," s&aid Dickr, with an invol-nntary sigh.
"Ah 1" said tihe old roal, "i   I kne1w h11m welll when
he was a boy, and often have I seen him  sporting oil
the banks of -the  I)elaw arc.   Aany a tinme have I enjoyed the hospitality   of his fllfather;   and althoughl our
religio-ls -viAewTs were clAiferet, yet'they were excellent
people, and I spent many pleasant hours w-i-th them.
They passed away nmayv yars, ncld fr'om a bro-ther
who tarLiect wvyitrl me last- night,  I learned that MN~r.
VWilson, their son,  h-o hLadcl  establishledc  himself in
P-    as a merehallt hal1  diel  at the hrancds of the
rumseller, and I was sorry> very sorry, to hear it."
"Yes, siri' said Dick  " that was m yfactiher."
The old nIan started in surprise, and saidc
"And you are the son of Richard Wlilsonl, and one
of the he'rs of his deep imisfortune and disorace. "
"Y es, sir"' said Dick,  I am, and I feel it every
clay."
" Well, young man," he replied, " I am glad that I
have found you out.  But you ha-ve come to a very
baad plac.  TManty a young man has been ruined, and
lost everything by com-ing here; and still rumselling
is continued, and tLhe annual sacrifice of'health, life,




116              DICK WILSON.
property, and the peace and comfort of families, goes
on undiminished. I have talked with most of the
rumsellers here; but whatever they may have been
when they commenced this business, it soon blinded
their eyes, and hardened their hearts, so that they
could. neither see nor feel the mischief they were
doing. I have gone into a bar-room, when it was
filled to overflowing with men who were merry over
the maddening bowl, and when women and children
were trying to tear away husbands and fathers from
this vortex of ruin, and then I have remonstrated
with the rumseller, and his only reply was-' I violate
no law, and if I should stop, others would continue
the same business.' I have asked them if God would
be satisfied with this answer, and I was once answered, by a poor fellow who has since gone to his account-and nmiserably too-' It will be some time before I am called upon to settle that account.' You will
have to move here with great caution, Mr. Wilson, or
you will regret your coming to this place."
The old gentleman said that it was past nine o'clock,
and was making a motion to depart, when Dick said
to him:
"If it is not too late for you to do so, I should be
very glad to hear from you your history of a rumseller and of a drunkard's home. I am here in the
midst of them, and anything that will tend to increase
my fear of these men, will be of service to me."




RUMSELLERS.-CAUSES AN:D CONSEQUENCES. 117
The oid gentleman was on his feet, ready to leave,
but as Dick concluded, he seated himself; and without
promising to do so, he seemed for a moment to give
himself up to reflection. Dick was watching and admiring the calm, dispassionate movement of every
muscle in his face, when the old gentleman broke the
silence, and commenced by saying —
"Mr. Wilson, fifteen years ago I was located in this
place. It was then just about what it is now. So
far as the improvement of the village is concerned,
there are more religious people here now than there
was at that time. I became acquainted with a young
man, in the prime and vigor of life. He was not
what may be called rich, yet his circumstances were
very comfortable, and his prospects were exceedingly
fair. I became very much attached to him, and I had
every reason to think that it was fully reciprocated.
During the early part of my first year in this place, I
was called on to perform the marriage ceremony for
him, which I did. His father died soon after, and left
him a very handsome property, two miles from this
place, and every one who knew him said that he
would do well. I spent two years here, in an almost
continual state of warfare with the rumsellers, who
were so intent on breaking up everything which might
exert a restraining influence upon their trade, that
they would employ boys to run horses by the door of
the church on Sabbath days. This has often been




118                DICE WIESONr
done by them.  At the end of two years I was -r&moved to anotler field, but su;b[sequently returned
h-lere.  WT]ien 1 ca- ce back I saw nolerai-og of George
I-andcv and -lloughat it stuange th at hle did not come
to see me.  A'v clSTs df[yer lny ]:etuLn, in conversation with a g'eltAilemanl, I expressed  avy Surprise that
I had seen nothlming of George, asi h!e w-as familiarly
called.
" Ah,' said th-te -gentleman,  poor George is ruizzeld!
Our rum-irselletrs have overcome him; and Smith1  at
the Corner, llas a mortgage of his whole property.'
"'How is this? I quickly inquired.' George Hanldy
ruized already!  How does it come?'
"'God only knows,' he repliecl;  tlhe people here
can't understand it.  But thlen, it is true. It does not
astonish me nLchi; for our ruimselers, with Judge
L —--  to aid theml   have done many similar deeds.''"One day, soon after thlis conversation, I wavs walking along the street; and happened to see George, just
entering  Smiith's bar-room.  I imninedi-ately followed
him, and heard Smith say,' If you have no money,
you can't Ihave a drop of zwhis7zey   If you have anything about your house that T can use, I will exchange
you whlskley for it.'
"'You have all mny property already 1' said 1Eandv.
"'Yo-u have had pay for it,' said Smitah.
"' In what?' inquired Georgeo
"' That is no matter, Handy,' replied S mith, in an




.~UMSELLCERSo-CAJUSES Air ND CON3SEQ U'EJNCES.  119
angry manner; II have the mortg'age, and that is the
evidence that.you have rcci\-ed value f-or itl
Do give ime som-ething to drink, Mr.- Smith,' said
George.
"' Not a drop wit-1hout'he money) anI lor t'hat you
can Xlave just as much ass you want.;
"George,' said I,' come with me,' and he started in
a momnent.  I suppose he 1Iknew my voi.c% alend as soon
as lie sa-w me l he -wailkeed up to me, saying,"'i6,;r. Shepard.T, this is not; George H1aLncty! —George
1iandy has been in the  r ave near'ly a year. Oh. no,
sir, this ain't tlle imaoge that God maclde!  Tbhis ain't
the young oman over whom, ancd his smiling brlide, yot
exercised such tender care   T his,' sald hle, tryiing to
straighten himself I is a poor, miserable tl:-ingo  which
the rumsocliers here have madce, andc this is ttle place
of my ruin.'
"None of your lying here, Ceorge,' scle  Smmnith.'i   am  not lySing, said George;    y ot  knowr what,
you ha ve donl and God. acnd my poor wife  krow.
what yo -l. have (tone."'
"'I asked  hli.m]  how his wife was, and where she
-was.
"'-ier 1lcalt]::is very p00oor,    it  1   cl a -ui; rtl
never be0';      Sime is yie   Un em  (11 ho1. e b1Lii   God
only:knows i-1ow'\ soon hils man wvill drive 97us out of it
anridcl the. if deatht, wich. w cwould be a mercy to both
of us, and t;o onr lit]to girl, doeS aot come, I don lt




120              DICK WILSON.
know what will become of us. The thought of the
poor-house makes me shudder.'
"I asked him to go home with me, and he refused
to do so, saying,' I cannot see Mrs. Shepard, and I
tried to keep out of your way.'
"I saw that Smith was very angry, but he did not
wish to commence an encounter, in which he feared
he might be worsted. I was well satisfied that he
hated me as perfectly as I despised his wickedness, and
I was quite sure that he had robbed George, in a way
which was more dishonorable than the direct theft of
his estate would have been. I told George that he
had better leave with me. He came to the door, and
then stopped, saying,"'You won't ask me to go home with you, Mr.
Shepard?'
" I told him that I should be glad to have him go,
but that I would not insist, if he did not wish to go.
I parted with him then; and, without telling him, I
had made up my mind to ride up to his house in the
morning, and see if the ruin could in any way be repaired. From what I saw of George, I feared that it
was hopeless. He said he was in the grave, and I
thought it was true; and only the Power that raised
Lazarus could raise him again.
"_As soon as I entered his house the next morning,
my heart was chilled. There sat his wife, wrapt in
the pale, quiet melancholy of a broken heart. My




RUMSELLERS.-CAUSES AND CONSEQUENCES. 121
entrance was to all appearance unnoticed, and yet
she was looking me full in the face. At length she
said,"' Mr. Shepard, I am glad to see you. Do not be
frightened; all that you see is a reality-there is no
mockery about it. Poor George has been crushed to
pieces under the iron hoof of the rumseller, and everything is gone. Oh I if I only knew that sweet child
was provided for,' said she, pointing to a little girl, a
little more than two years of age,'I should die in
peace.''I asked where George was, and told her that I
would be glad to see him.
"' I can't tell,' said she;' perhaps the poor fellow
saw you coming, and if he did, he will not come in
until you are gone.'
"' I asked her if I should read a portion of Scrip.
ture, and pray with her, to which she assenteq; and
after which I took my leave, with feelings such as I
never experienced before. For several days after this
I was confined to the house by indisposition; and
during this time I found it almost impossible to think
of anything but poor George and his wife. About
the middle of the third day, the sheriff called on me,
and informed me that George Handy wished to see
me. I was startled at this announcement, coming
from the sheriff, and immediately inquired where I
could find him.
F




122              DICK WILSON.
"' In prison, sir,' was the reply,' and his heart is
almost broken.'
" For what?' I inquired.
"'Well, sir, I believe it is a matter of debt. Smith,
the rumseller, has worked himself into George's fine
property, and no one believes that he did it honestly;
and this does not appear to satisfy him.'
"' Do you know how much his claim against George
is?-I mean the claim for which he has been impriaoned.'
"'I believe it is about two dollars. Smith says he
can afford to pay his board, and that he intends to
keep him there until he gets to be an honest man!'
I"' Has George no friends here,' I inquired,'who
would do this much for him?':" I think, sir,' said the sheriff' that but very few
know it; and I do not think Smith wishes it to be
known.'
" I rose, and taking from my drawer the money,
which I could but poorly afford to spare, and most of
all to a rumseller-hastened to the prison, and was at
once conducted into the part where George was confined. He rose to meet me, saying,
"' Mr. Shepard, you never expected to meet me in
a prison, where none but felons should ever be confined.''"1told him at once that he must come out, and
that I had come to take him out.




RUMSELLERS.-CAUSES AND CONSEQUENCES. 123' Oh, no, Mr. Shepard 1' said he,' you cannot afford
to pay the claims of rumsellers against me. I would
rather remain here, for my poor wife is dying at home
with a broken heart, and I cannot endure the sight.'
"I took him by the hand, and told him that he
must come with me; that the scoundrel who had robbed him of his property, his health, and the peace
and happiness of his family, should not now, for the
mere sum of two dollars, be permitted to degrade him
farther. I walked home with him, and as soon as we
entered, he said:
"'Well, Mary, the cup is nearly full. I have been
two nights in the county prison, on a rumseller's
claim.'
" She leaped from her seat when the arrow, for
which she seemed to be waiting, pierced her heart,
and throwing her arms about his neck, exclaimed:
"'Poor George! poor George! -it is all over.'
" Reason had, in the keen agony of that moment,
sought a shelter in the gloomy night of insanity, from
which she never recovered. She is sleeping in the
church-yard. George-and you have seen him often
in the street-is also the victim of insanity, and an:inmate of the poor-house; and their little daughter I
brought home myself, and she is with us yet-a beautiful and lovely girl. Mr. Smith, the rumseller, has
had his triumph. God's justice will yet have its
triumph!"




CIIAPTER VII.
PRACTICAL SYMPATHY.-DIFFERENCE IN CHARACTER.
"True dignity is hers, whose tranquil mind
Virtue has raised above the things below;
Who, every hope and fear to Heaven resigned,
Shrinks not, though fortune aim her deadliest blow."
TIERE is no other desolation which, for the gloom
and cheerlessness by which it is pervaded, can compare with that which the rumseller can make. He,
more than any other agency, distributes, with a wanton
liberality, the bitterest curses which can be mingled
with the cup of human life, and before which its richest hopes and tenderest associations are crushed.
Some time had elapsed since Dick Wilson, to his
little but beloved household, had said good-bye; and
to persons feeling, as they did, the effect of the dire
consequences which the rum  traffic  had gathered
around them, there was nothing to give wings to time.
So far as the consolations of this world were concerned, it was sadness and loneliness when he left, and excepting the kindness of a very few, it was sadness and
loneliness still.
During the afternoon, little Harry had been scam



DIFFERENCE IN CHARACTER.         125
pering about with more apparent pleasure than he had
felt since they entered that house; and like children
of his age, his conversation, which was rambling, embraced many things which touched Mrs. Wilson and
her daughter to the heart. Often they would respond
to his childish simplicity with the " deep-fetched" sigh
and an apparent smile, when it would have been more
in consonance with their hearts to have answered with
a tear.
Now, this child of misfortune was sleeping, and his
little sorrows, if his tender heart knew any, were
sleeping with him. Mrs. Wilson was reverently engaged in reading, as for several months she had been
accustomed to do, at stated intervals, from the word
of God; and Eliza was sitting by her side, with her
cheek pressed close to her mother's. When Mrs.
Wilson had finished, she said to Eliza:
" My child, God is closing the history of another
day, and oh, what heart-burnings have this day ascended up, to claim a record, which shall await the
judgment of the great day."
"Yes, my dear mother," said Eliza, as she approached the little window where, perhaps, from other hearts,
many a bitter sigh had been breathed into the ear of
God —" yes, my dear mother, the draymen who live
on this street are beginning to return from the toils of
the day, to spend their hours of rest in the society of
their poor families. Mother, we know  something




126              DICK WILSON.
about the joys of home-its pleasures, its holiness, its
love. Oh, mother! if God shall judge the rumseller
and his friends according to their criminality-according to the wrongs and the outrages which they are
daily committing-how withering will that judgment
be! How sweetly little Harry sleeps. He does not
appear to have any realization of trouble. See how
sweetly he smiles; nothing disturbs his calm, dreamy
life. His little lips move and quiver, as if angelsthe spirits of little children, young and lovely as himself-had come down to bear him company. I wonder if he has any idea of his present situation, or of
what he has lost! I hope he has not. Don't you
think, mother, he looks like father and Dick very
much?"
" Yes, my child, I do. I never look at him without seeing the image of your father. Have you any
idea, my child, who it was that purchased your father's
and my portrait, at the sale of our property?"
" No, mother," replied Eliza, "I have not. When
those precious things were brought out, and handed
to the auctioneer, Dick and myself left the window:
we could not look on, while the images of those dear
to us were being disposed of in that manner."
" Well, my child I do think that was cruel. I care
nothing for my own, only for the sake of you and
your brother; but your father's portrait I would like
to have kept, and one would think that respect for




DIFFERENCE IN CHARACTER.        127
the dead would have deterred any one from attempting to remove it. I have no doubt, that at this moment they may be gracing the parlor of some one of
those rumsellers who have ruined us. If any respectable person had purchased them, Mrs. Livingstoli
would have known it'"
"6 My dear mother don't let this grieve you. I hope
poor Dick will soon be able to find them, and purchase
them back for us. We are wounded deep enough already, without permitting these precious mementos of
the living and the dead, to grace such a place as that."' Eliza," said Mrsa Wilson, "you must write to Dick
to-morrow. Cheer him up as much as possible. Tell
him, when you write, that the old minister comes
often, and that his conversation is just what we need.
Tell him that Mrs. Livingston and Mrs. Eagleson are
remarkably kind and attentive to us. And don't forget to tell him that little Harry talks much about him,
These things, my child, will encourage him very
much. They will tend to strengthen him  against
temptation, and this is necessary; for his path is filled
with peril, and the cheerless inheritance of a drunkard's son will cling with great power to his heart, but
not to strengthen it, Now my child, let us note down
every pleasure we may feel, and then, at the begining of every week, transmit it all to him, and it will
do him good, and make him feel happier."
Y" Yes, mother," replied Eliza, " if Dick thinks we




128               DICK WILSON.
are happy, he will be happy too. I always write to
him  in a cheerful manner, and somehow or other,
Providence has given me some pleasant' thing to tell
him every time I have written yet, so that I have almost become selfish in this respect, and am looking
for a continuance of the same kindness.'"
"WVell,  my child," replied lMrs. Wilson, "' if you
look in a right spirit, there is no selfihness about it;
but it is -the evidence of faith in those precious promises to which, for consolation at this moment, we are
deeply indebted.'Ask and ye shall receiYe.' How
comprehensive that invitation. It is just what we
need, and what poor Dick needs asas much as we dto."
"Mother," said Eliza, "has it occurred to you,
since our misfortunes, how very easy it is to be deceiv-,
ed in persons?'"'Yes," said Mrs. Wilson; "I could hardly, in our
situation, be insensible to such reflections. But why
have you asked that question?"
"Well, mother, my mind has been running back.
I am afraid, after all, it is more prone to go backward:than forward; but I will try to subdue this disposition, except when I want to hold communion with
dear Ellen. I have been thinking of times past, and
the changes which have taken place. There was a
time in our history, when the slightest indisposition
in our family would have called to our door those
who, under no imaginable circumstances, would come




DIFFERENCE IN CHARACTER.         129
now. This, I think, is what we have learned,-that
it is not what people wear, nor the society in which
they move, that gives the true index to their characters. There is Mrs. Livingston and Mrs. Walstonthey are both very wealthy. Now, mother, look at
Mrs. Walston; I do not think you can remember two
days together, for several years, when she has not
been at our house. Many an hour, mother, have I
listened to her, while she was trying to flatter you in
every possible way. At one time she would speak in
raptures of father-his wealth-h-is fine dispositionhis brilliant prospects, and so on. Then, she would
tell you what a fine boy master Dick was; and then
she would turn to poor Ellen and myself; and that
dear little fellow lying there in the cradle, has not escaped her flattery; for she has said of him that he
was the sweetest of all your children. Don't you
think, mother, that he is just as lovely this evening
as he ever was?"
" Oh yes! my dear, surely I do."
"And so do I, mother; but Mfrs. Walston don't
think so. He is now the heir of poverty, and with
her my dear little brother's loveliness is gone! Mrs.
Walston, mother, you know, was always dressed in
the height of the fashion. No one could recollect to
have seen her when she was not. Her great business
was to see what was to be seen, and hear what was to
be heard. She had always use in this way for her
F*~'     9




130               DICK WILSON.
eyes and her ears. She was never known to be in the
nursery with her children when she was able to be out
of it: all this business was intrusted to her ignorant
domestics. Yourself and Mrs. Walston, mother, used
to call me a little girl, but that little girl had her little
thoughts, and those little noiseless things said that it
was cruel-that she ought not to do so; and that mothers who were faithless to their children could not be
expected to be very faithful to out-door friends, only
as circumstances dictated.  We have not seen her
since our affliction; and I apprehend we will never
see her in this house. We may chance to meet her
in the street, but I hope we shall not, for I am sure
that she does not want to see us. If she did, she could
easily find us. Now, mother, there is Mrs. Livingston,
who is very wealthy. She never knew what it was
to want a single thing that money could purchase, and
she can be fashionable too. Indeed, in every respect,
she can throw Mrs. Walston into the shade.  But
then, Mrs. Livingston does not permit these things to
take the place of her family in her affections. She
has been often at our house; and yet she has hardly
been there once for Mrs. Walston's twenty times. But
when she did come, her demeanor was always dignifled and pleasing, even to children. There was nothing about her to make children dislike her coming,
and if she chose to caress them, as she often did, she
did not appear, like Mrs. Walston, as if she was afraid




DIFFERENCE IN CHARACTER.         131
that her fine things would get soiled. This could not
very well have been avoided at Mrs. W.'s house; and
she seemed to think the same kind of house-keeping
prevailed everywhere. Misjudging, mother, is part
of our experience, and a thrilling part of it too; and
to me it is a matter of astonishment how, under any
circumstances, we could have preferred Mrs. Walston
to Mrs. Livingston. ~When Mrs. Livingston came to
our house, she had always about her a mark of true,
genuine affection, and she professed to be a Christian
of more than mere fashionable style, and I presume no
one ever doubted her sincerity. I think that there
are places and circumstances in which religion shines
with more lustre than it does in the large congregation; and one place is the nursery, when a mother,
with a heart full of intelligent, burning love, consecrates herself to her children. When Frank Hamilton was spending a vacation once with Dick, he told
us what his mother was in the habit of doing. He
said that she spent an hour daily with them in the
nursery, and that nothing would tempt her to neglect
it; and surely this is a precious retirement for both
mother and children; but of these hours, mother, you
were robbed by the tyranny of a morbid fashion,
which has mingled itself with the rumseller's doings.
For this, Mrs. Livingston was remarkable; and wherever her children are seen, they carry with them their
mother's likeness in their faces, and her goodness in




132               DICK WILSON.
their actions, This was Mrs. Livingston's character in
the time of our affluence; and now, in our adversity,
she is, if possible, still more kind. Ah, how we were
deceived! The one lit up the morning of prosperity
with a false light; but the other-and she the nobler
one —has brought peace to the evening-time of adversity; and how kind she is to those, of whom poor
Dick said, they would be called'the drunkard's
family!''*
Eliza," said Mrs. Wilson, "is not that Mfrs. Livingston crossing the street just now?"
"Yes, surely it is, mother, and she is conlling here.
What can have brought her out at this late hour?
Why, it's almost dark 1"
c" Go to the door, quick, Eliza, and let her see that
we love her, for indeed she is a lovely woman."
Eliza had the door open in a moment, and Mrs.
Livingston drew near, with a pleasant smile, saying,1" Good evening, my dear child."
Ah, that does not grate so roughly-it does not tear
so unmercifully-it does not wound every nerve and
fibre of the spirit, as does the harsh, ungentlemanly,
and unlady-like expression,'The drunkard's family, or
the drunkard's son or dau. ghter.'
Both were at the door to meet Mrs. Livingston, and
as she entered she imprinted a speaking, eloquent kiss
upon the cheek of each, and then, walking directly to
the cradle, she looked for a moment into the little




DIFFERENCE IN CHARACTER.          133
sleeping face of IHarry, and with her kiss she left a
tear upon the little fellow's cheek, the sparkle of which
seemed to say, "My poor child, your lot is the hardest!"
"Mrs.- Wilson," said Mirs. Livingston, "this makes
my heart sick. I can hardly convince myself that
your situation is a reality; and yet, it is too fearfully
plain to be a dream. But tell me if there is anything
I can do for you,-and I hope you will be candid.
Throw off all delicacy about these matters, for your
change is so severe, I think it would be wrong in you
to wrong yourself by refusing to make known your
wants. I assure you, MNrs. Wilson, a reverse of fortune has not lessened my respect for you; and anything I or mine can do, will be cheerfully clone. Do
tell me all, and I will try to sympathize with you, as
I ought to do."
"My dear Mrs. Livingston," said Mrs. Wilson, "you
are too kind, too generous already. We are deeply
in your debt.  In such circumstances as ours, the
voice of human kindness is sweet indeed; and I thank
you, my hitherto unprized friend, for the generous
kindness and tender sympathy with which you have
visited us. You have preserved your affections amidst
those disastrous circumstances in which others have
lost them, and of which loss they seem to be insensible. But, we are not entirely destitute; and I think,
by proper management, we will be able to get along




134                DICK WILSON.
until Dick is admitted to the bar; and then, I hope,
our situation will be more comfortable. That poor
boy, Mrs. Livingston, is our only earthly dependence
now; and I do most fervently hope that he may be
spared to us. It is a great pleasure to us to receive
his letters, for he tries in every imaginable way to
make us feel happy. But I am sure, although he is
not a child, that his heart many times is sad-that he
will often weep himself to sleep in thinking of us.
Little Harry is now our great comfort. He has been
unusually happy and cheerful this afternoon, and went
to sleep earlier than usual. I think, Mrs. Livingston,
that there are for us some wise and precious lessons
in these afflictions, and particularly so far as my children and their best interests are concerned; and if I
am  spared, I will try to lay unsparingly in their
minds, the foundation of a good and useful life."
"I hope, indeed," replied Mrs. Livingston, "that
you will do this unsparingly.  The training of our
children, AMrs. Wilson, as mothers, responsible to God,
in a fearful sense, is, after all, the great consideration;
and here, I apprehend, is the cause in which thousands
of both sexes find their ruin, and entail a fearful responsibility upon unfaithful parents. It was the rumseller, Mrs. Wilson, who brought this heavy affliction
to your family; and while God, of his mercy, may
overrule it for your good, can he suffer the cruel
cause of all this to prosper?  Will the rumseller be




DIFFERENCE IN CHARACTER.          135
permitted to go forward in his desolating work, slowly
but surely infusing his deadly poison into the heart's
blood of the community, and prostrating to the earth
his myriads of husbands, fathers, sons? No, no! this
cannot be. I tremble even for him, when I reflect
that God is just, and that his justice cannot sleep forever. He has thrown a blight upon yourself and
your precious children-can he and his escape?  If
there is an object of pity upon the earth, it is the child
whom a callous-hearted rumseller calls his own. To
be a drunkard's son, is an inheritance which is only
rich in the thick gloom of its insufferable cruelty.
But to be a rumseller's son, and wear the impressions
of that business; to be assured that one is eating the
bread and wearing the clothes which, in justice, belong to those who are starving, and who are in rags I
To be conscious that the very things which are inaking their hearts glad, are making other hearts sorrowful! To be conscious that these things, covetously
torn from others, are the price of peace, happiness and
life in other homes! —homes which were once lit up
by love! Yes, my dear Mirs. Wilson, the rumseller
has cursed you with all his fury! But will he enjoy
his ill-gotten gain?  I think not. Mrs. Wilson, do
many of your former friends call on you?"
" Oh no; yourself and Mrs. Eagleson, and our old
minister, are the only ones who have called."
" Is it possible?"




136              DICK WILSON.
"Yes, Mrs. Livingston, only three have outlived
the storm, as yet: they are all who have come to
see us."
" I feared that this was the case; but let them go.
I have no doubt this has disappointed you severely.
Let them  go, for in their going you lose nothing.
These persons have lost more than you have, and
when they meet you by accident, a sense of personal
inferiority will wring from them the acknowledgment
in the truth-telling blush. This is one of those revolutions in which, with what they have lost already, it
is almost impossible for self-respect to survive. Some
of these persons may live to hear the stern rappings
of adversity at their own doors. They may live to
see it entering and laying its rude hands upon the
domestic and social -relations, upon which they are
now staying themselves; and if such should be their
fortune, I hope they will find that God is more merciful than they are. With some of those amongst
your former acquaintances, there is at this moment a
much more certain prospect of such a calamity than
you had a year since. I do sincerely hope it may not
come to them; but they certainly seem to be rapidly
drifting to the same dark port. Have you been out
any yet, Mrs. Wilson?"
"I have scarcely crossed the threshold since we
came here to live."'
" Now, Mrs. Wilson, remember-I will take no de



DIFFERENXCE IN CHARACTER.       137
nial-I want yourself and Eliza and little Harry to
come and spend the day with us to-morrow. Mr.
Livingston will send the carriage for you to-morrow
morning by ten o'clock, and you must come; and
those extra genteel follcs, who suffer the rumseller to
break their friendship just when he has'broken the
heart and the hopes of his victims, will see that I am
not ashamed of you, at all events."
" Oh, Mrs. Livingston, do excuse us."
"I can't, Mrs. Wilson."
"I would-"
"No use; no excuse taken this time. Say yes.
What do you say, Eliza? If little Harry were awake,
I would be willing to leave it to him."
"What would the people think, Mrs. Livingston, to
see your carriage in this street?"'
"No matter about the people, Mrs. Wilson-say
yes, quick."
"Mrs. Livingston, suffer me to ask you if you in
tend to have any other company?"
"I do, Mrs. Wilson. You would have thought it
very strange, a few months since, if you had come
on a visit to my house, and found no other company."
"Whom  may we expect to meet, Mrs. Livingston?"
"No person better than yourself, except our old
minister-and I call him better than any person else.




138              DICK WILSON.
I have been thinking that I should ask Mrs. Walston.
I think it might do her good."
"Oh, Mrs. Livingston!" exclaimed Eliza, before
she could control her feelings-" for our sakes don't
ask her."
Mrs. Livingston looked a little surprised, and then
smiling, said:
" Why not, my sweet child?"'
"I ask your pardon," said Eliza, blushing deeply;
I ought not to have made that remark."
" Would you rather not meet her, Eliza?"
"' If I had my choice, I would prefer not meeting
her; and it is as much on her account as on our own."
"' Well, then, my child, you wont meet her at my
house. What makes Donald stay so long?" ejaculated
Mrs. Livingston, as she turned to look out of the window. "Yes, he is coming at last. Just let me go to
the door for one moment."
There was something in the name of Donald which
brought Irs. Wilson and Eliza at once to the window,
and there they saw the trusty old Scotchman backing
his dray up to the door, and, as might be supposed,
they were a good deal surprised.
Mrs. Livingston whispered to Donald not to leave
until his load was safely put away.
" No, madam," replied Donald, " I'll na leave the
house until Mistress Wilson hae all these things put
to hand. Ould Donald has seen women alone with




DIFFERENCE IN CHARACTER.         139
poverty before, and he won't do anything that's
mean."
" Why," exclaimed Mrs. Wilson, " what have you
been doing, Mrs. Livingston?"
" Not a word of blame, Mrs. Wilson; if there is
anything wrong, you must blame my family this time.
Don't scold me; you can settle it with them to-morrow. Just let Donald carry these things into the
house: it will be a pleasure for him to do so."
And Donald, smiling and looking happy for the
moment, like the rest, said, —
" Yes, Mistress Livingston, surely it will be a pleas.
ure to me to do so. Mistress Wilson's done me many
a kindness."
"H ere," said Mrs. Livingston, "is a trunk, which
you can open, and you will find that it contains all
necessary explanation in reference to its contents.
When you are through with it, close it up again, and
Donald will call for it early in the morning, before the
stage starts for B, and Mr. Livingston will see
that everything in relation to its destination is arranged," —and bidding them an affectionate goodnight, she left for her home.
" Mother," said Eliza, "what does this mean?"
"Don't you recollect, my child, that y9u said a little
while since, that Providence seemed to give you some
good news to tell Dick every time you wrote to him?"
"Well, mother, God is good! How kind his coun



140               DICK WILSON.
sels are, after all! I will believe him now, more than
ever."' My daughter," said Mrs. Wilson, "we must see
what is to be done with this trunk, as it will be called for early in the morning. Light a candle, my
child, and move softly, so that you do not disturb
Harry."
In a few moments the trunk was opened, and on an
examination they found it to contain a number of articles for themselves and Harry, and the remainder for
Dick. In a package, marked, "from f~r. Livingston,"'
they found the material for an elegant mourning dress,
such as is worn by the better class; and in a slip of
paper in the inside, they found fifty dollars in gold,
with this inscription upon the paper-" The rumseller
can't take this."
Eliza found a similar passage, marked, "from Lucy
Livingston,"-and there was one for little Harry, marked, "from Mfaster Tommy Livingston;" and then a good
many little affairs not marked at all.
Dick's portion was a fine one-enough to fit him
out in the best style, and contained more than a sufficient amount of money to defray all expenses of making up. Ars. }Wilson understood that it was not the
wish of AMr. Livingston that Dick should know the
donor, and propriety, rather than a desire, induced
them to keep it from him.
After the whole cargo-trunk, provisions, and so




DIFFERENCE IN CHARACTER.         141
on-had been.examined and arranged, Mrs. Wilson
said to Eliza, —
"My daughter, God is on the side of the afflicted;
and if most of our former friends were willing to
abandon us, and leave us at the mercy of the rumsel:
ler, let us thank him that he has kept a few for us, and
best of all, that He is our friend."
After offering up a fervent prayer, in which Dick
was feelingly remembered, these weary ones retired to
rest-rest, sweeter and more refreshing than the rumseller can ever know.




CHAPTE R VIII.
NEW  HOME.-ITS CHARACTER.-ITS DANGERS.
"Yet turn, ye wanderers, turn your steps aside,
Nor trust the guidance of that faithless light,
For watchful, lurking'mid th' unrustling reed,
At those murk hours the wily monster lies."
THE office of a country lawyer is generally an admirable index of the community by which it is surrounded. In a good and well-regulated community,
a lawyer, as well as all others, is permitted to have a
portion of his time to himself, in which he may meditate upon his owen and his client's interests.  When
the community is of a different character-idle, inquisitive, and ignorant-attending to all matters but such
as strictly concern themselves, and especially if there
be a surplus of rumsellers or rumbibbers there-a
lawyer's office becomes a mere haunt of idlers.
Here we find Dick Wilson for the first time since
we left him at his mother's door, with the good-bye
trembling on his lips.
The community, into the bosom of which Dick had
come, was far from  being what it,should have been.
The social influences which surrounded him here were




NEW HOME.                 143
unfavorable, though we find him in the office of one
of the best lawyers of the place. In this office, on
the evening of his arrival, we find him sitting alone
in the shades of the gathering twilight, and dwelling
with absorbing interest upon the marked contrast between his present and his former home. Twilight is
the hour for contemplation. Then it is, as the eye of
day closes and shuts out the images of the external
world, that the thoughts rush home from their varied
wanderings, and dwell with concentrated energy upon
those scenes in our own history which are the most
impressive. Thoughts of home, sweet, sweet home,
and of loved ones at home, were consecrating that
hour at the shrine of affection. Thoughts of homea mother, a sister, and a little infant brother, from
whom this poor boy was separated by the cheerless
hand of poverty —had a claim, endorsed by nature,
upon that hour!
He knew that at that hour they were sending forth
their thoughts-the angelic messengers of their hearts
-freighted with love to meet his own, and together,
upon some intervening mountain cliff, to hold there
the feast of love and sadness. And it might be that a
mother's and a sister's prayers were also ascending up
to heaven in his behalf-for the twilight hour is as sacred to prayer as it is to the cherished recollections of
earth.
What a holy thing that prayer is, when it rises from




144              DICK WILSON.
the smouldering ruins of a broken heart, to pour its
wants into the attentive ear of HeavenI How pure
it is, when it goes up for a beloved one, and how
mighty it is too-for,
" Prayer ardent opens heaven-lets down
A stream of glory on the consecrated hour
Of man, in audience with the Deity."
Dick Wilson had now been several months from
home, and although he was not more than one hundred
miles from it, yet from the morning he left he had not
been there.
Do you think, my friend, that he had lost his love
of home? Do not chide this young man with indifference, for it were cruelty to do so. Remember, he
was poor, and that poverty has its laws, and they
must be obeyed. He was unable to spare the little
sum which it would have required to carry him to
those, for whose sake more than for his own he was
contending with poverty.
The day to Dick had been one of more than usual
gloom, and yet he could not tell why it was so; but
ever and anon, on that day, which had been one of a
public character, one and another of those young men
of the village, with whom he seemed to be a general
favorite, would dash by the office where he was sitting alone, in a fine buggy, or mounted on an elegant
horse, a cloud of sadness-not of envy, but of genuiae sadness —was seen to pass over his features, and




NEW HOME.                145
then again it would disappear, leaving in its stead a
strange though beautiful serenity.
Hie was thinking of the time when poverty had not
the power to make him a recluse, and banish him from
all society, and from all the enjoyments of which a
well-filled purse would have enabled him to partake.
The contrast between his present and former situation deeply affected him. This was not fully appreciated even by those who knew him most intimately.
His hopes had been high. He had felt himself equal
in position, wealth and talent, to those who now passed him with averted eyes, and reflections upon the
change were continually lacerating  his feelings.
Though poor, he was nevertheless proud; and his
sensitive and deeply wounded spirit still clung to his
ruined hopes. Better were it otherwise. Better if the
rum traffic, while it strikes to the earth the hopes of
its victim, should at the same time annihilate all sense
of the painful fact.
Dick's revery was broken suddenly by the entrance
of several young men of his acquaintance, but not his
most intimate companions.
"Dick," said Horace Stevens, "you appear gloonmy
this evening. What the cldeuce is the matter with you?
We have been looking for you out all day. I'm sare
a chap with your prospects never ought to be gloomy,
and should never keep himself away from the fun and
frolic of the day. There is a time for everything unG           10




146              DICK WILSON.
der the sun-so says the'big book' —and there is just
as much a time to spree as anything else. House myself up in a law office on such days as these?  By
George, I guess not. It would surprise everybody in
this village to see me doing such a thing as that; and
the case stands about in the same way with these
other young gentlemen.'Birds of a feather flock together'-and so you see we are all here; and I'll tell
you we had a round time to-day. What's the matter,
Dick?  You look blue. Do you feel so?"
"I do feel rather gloomy this evening," replied
Dick, "but I am sure I cannot tell why it is. I do not
wish to feel so when I can avoid it, but sometimes a
predisposition in this way will get the better of me."
"Well, Dick, you would have felt a great sight
more cheerful this evening, if you had gone with us
to the pic-nic to-day. If Squire B — wanted his
office kept open, he ought to' have done it himself.
We had a glorious time, Dick, and lots of fun. Judge
CL-  and my old fellow was there, and they got up
three sheets in the wind devilish soon after they got
there; and I thought in my soul, at one time, that
they would have to be carried home. All we wanted, to make a polite finish of it, was a respectable
row! ~
"I am surprised to hear that Judge L~ was intoxicated. It is only a few weeks since he pronounced the sentence of death on Edward  --—,




NEW HOME.                 147
who murdered his wife and two daughters while he
was in a state of intoxication. You all remember
what a temperance speech he made on that occasion.
II am surprised that a man who holds the position he
does, should set such an example."
"0 Lord! Dick, you don't know that old coon as
well as we do, or it wouldn't surprise you at all. I
question if he has thought of Edward II    since
the sheriff took him out of the court-house, after the
sentence of death was pronounced. Dick, do you remember how sanctimoniously he mouthed the conelusion of the form-" may the Lord have mercy on
your soul?" Well, he wasn't over sober then-I'll be
bound he wasn't. After all, he is just the kind of a
chap that's needed here. The rum interest think he
is perfection itself; and they ought to think so, for if
it wasn't for him, they would soon be mighty scarce
here. You see, we have a good many religious people
here, and if it was not for Judge L-, the rum interest would scarcely maintain a living existence."
" I declare, Horace," said Dick, " if these things are
really so, the Judge is hardly fit to decide upon anything, but rum; and the law, and the evidence must
suffer amazingly in his hands."
"Well, Dick, let Judge L   go for this time. Do
you know that we have a' belle' here from New York
— a real eastern beauty?  She was at the pic-nic,
and she has been as spry as a cricket all the day



148              DICK WILSON.
part of everything, and almost the whole of some
things!  I don't know how the mischief she's heard
of you so soon. You had better be scraping acquaintance pretty quick. There is no time to lose. I would
give my head for her. I tell you, Dick, you would
have enjoyed yourself."
" I suppose I would have enjoyed myself, Horace.
At least, I shouldc have put on the appearance."
"The appearance I Well, Dick Wilson, you're the
last fellow I should have shot at, expecting to kill a
hypocrite!"
" I think, Horace, your expression will hardly rank
me amongst that class. In everything, I move under
pressure. Tell me who is this young lady?"
" She is Miss Lucy S   -, from New York, and is
one of the liveliest beauties you ever saw. Why,
man, she's an angel, all but the wings! and let me tell
you, she intends giving you a chase, and I'm mistaken
if it won't be a merry one, too. You must be moving early, Dick; for if you want to catch her, let me
tell you, you'll have all kinds of obstacles to contend
with; and you had better prepare yourself for it, and
don't say that I didn't give you fair warning."'" orace," replied Dick, " you can have her with
all my heart, and if you think it will make your
chances any better than they are, I will give you this
moment a quit claim to all my right, title and interest




NEW HOME.               149
in the beautiful bird. But I won't guarantee the catching. You must look out for that."
"That will do very well to talk about; but she's an
archer."
" That's just what I've been thinking, Horace; and
I advise you to approach with all possible caution,
and be sure, as you go along, to keep a path open, in
case of retreat, for such a thing may be necessary.
And further, if what you say is true, I don't believe
that she is worth catching."
1" I tell you, Dick, if what you have said' were to
reach her ears, you would find yourself in a predicament! I'd like to know what kind of stuff you are
made of."
"I fancy, Horace, it's pretty good. It has stood
hardships already. And so far as knowing what I
have said is concerned, I have no objection to your
telling her, if you will only be thoughtful enough to
tell what you said yourself."
"Yes, indeed! I ain't fool enough for that."
"Do you not know, Horace, that it would be very
ungentlemanly in you to accuse me before that young
lady, with having spoken disrespectfully or unkindly
of her, when you have opened every inch of the
way?  Suppose I should go to Judge L-  and
your father, and tell them what you have said about
them?"
"Yes, Dick, I know. My father and Judge L —-,




150               DICK WILSON.
(if you don't know it, I will tell you,)' rule the roost'
about these' diggins.' Come, come, boys, let's be off.
Let's go right up to the Judge's;" and these worthies
started, much to Dick's satisfaction.
The visits of these young gentlemen, who were, for
the most part, what may be called well-dressed, poorly-cultivated street-loafers, who seemed to think that
wealth would make up for empty heads and bad
hearts, with the consequences necessarily flowing from
them, rather increased than allayed Dick's sense of
sadness. They had rudely broken in upon and scattered the beautiful imagery which, in spite of his depression, he had pictured to himself, and in which
again he saw his mother, his sister, and his little
Harry, whom he tenderly loved, in the enjoyment of
happiness. He threw himself back in his chair, and
said to himself:
"This is strange. These fellows are not in the
habit of using such familiarity with me, and they are
not by any means amongst my intimate friends either.
This gives me a clue to some of Mrs. Watson's hints.
I wish I knew what it means. But it is my best plan
to be careful. Well, at all events, they can't drive me
from my independence: that is something which, in
spite of the rumseller, and misfortune too, I have
been able to keep, and keep it I will, while there is a
single crag to which I am able to cling. If there is
treachery in this, I will defy them to move me. If




NEW   OMEOhi.              t 
this is their game, it is a pretty cool calculation, and
the whole of it is not visible yet."
When Dick Wilson entered the village of B -,
where he designed finishing his legal studies, preparatory to admission to the bar, it was with the consciousness that he was very poor and wholly dependent on his own exertions. This consciousness, if he
had been accustomed to poverty, would have been all
the safer and better for him; but he was not accustomed to it. Poverty on his shoulders was an awks
ward fit, and he had never learned those arts which
early necessity alone can teach.
When the stage stopped at B —, to get a new set
of horses, as usual, quite a number of those who were
in the habit of doing so, collected at the stage office,
and remained there. until the last horse was hitched,
and the last passenger in the stage. Dick was looking on while these things were transpiring, and just
as the driver snapped his whip, a rosy-cheeked gentleman cried out:
" lEalloo, driver! you've lost a passenger."
"I guess not," said the driver, and off he went,
flying at the rate of three miles an hour.
When it was understood that a passenger had been
dropped from the stage at Be, many persons flocked to the favored rumseller's quarters to see him, for
peradventure it might be some distinguished man;
arxd if all the curious who were fond of ruin and




152              DICK WILSON.
strange faces didn't see him, they would have thought
themselves behind the time sadly. Dick was considerably annoyed by this demonstration of inquisitiveness, but at once set about finding some employment, the proceeds of which would enable him to
pay his boarding and defray contingent expenses.
This he was soon able to accomplish, and a day ortwo found him very comfortably situated in this respecti  He had engaged with a gentleman who was in
a large business to keep his books for him, and in this
engagement he was exceedingly fortunate.  The family to whose acquaintance and to whose confidence
very soon this introduced him, was just the kind under whose guardianship a young man like Dick Wilson, or indeed any young man, would, if anywhere,
be safe-a much better and safer place of resort for a
young man than the hotel with its bar-room. Dick was
not long in making the acquaintance of this excellent
family, and then he freely and fully committed to
them the history of his and his family's misfortunes;
and who does not know how soothing it is to have a
few faithful ones to whom the joys and sorrows of the
heart may be committed, and where it is certain they
will be safe? Here Dick felt that he was safe, and
this feeling introduced him at once into the affections
of the family, so that in his hours of gloom and despondency he always turned towards their door for
sympathy.




NEW HOME.                 153
At the end of Dick's soliloquy, where we left him,
he found himself in the cheerful sitting-room of Mr.
Watson's family, where everything-children and all
-were so well in keeping that he could not but feel
that this was something approaching to home. In a
moment he found himself surrounded by all the children in the house, for with them he was an especial
favorite; and few people are better judges of real
goodness of heart than children. Mrs. Watson tried
to get them off him, but it wouldn't do: they were
accustomed to regard Dick's coming as a holiday, and
they would have their fun, let who would scold.
"Mrs. Watson," said Dick, "do let these children
alone. I assure you it is a pleasure to me to have
these demonstrations of their innocent affections. The
childlike simplicity of life is a lovely thing, and it is a
pity that it cannot be preserved through life. Mrs.
Watson, I have been afraid that I have intruded myself too much upon your family; but I feel at home
in your house, and I know that if I should make an
unadvised remark, as I often do, that it will not be
echoed from ear to ear under the stealthy garb of a
leaky secrecy, until the whole community is in possession of it."
"We are always glad to see you, Richard," replied
Mrs. Watson, "and we hope you will come to our
house with as much freedom as you would if it were
your mother's. You seem to feel unhappy this even.
G*4




154              DICE WILSON.
ing. What is wrong? Have you received unpleas.
ant news from home?"
" Oh no, Mrs. Watson; I had a letter from my
sister yesterday, and they are all well, which is all I
can expect. Since the death of my father, I have
hardly been free from melancholy; and it seems to
grow upon me. I have tried time and again to tear
myself away from its embrace, but I cannot. There
is a mystery about it, for to me even this melancholy
at times has an attraction about it, which holds me
like a charm."
" Well, Richard," said Mrs. Watson, while a
mother's affection brightened her countenance, " that
may be true, but you know that after the natural appetite is satiated by the feast, the rarest delicacies are
insipid. I think it is just so with the mind; and a
feast of melancholy, while it is unsafe and unnourishing, will render substantial food unpalatable, and at
last itself will turn into a nauseous insipidity. It was
so with Lord Byron. He feasted upon melancholy;
and the wild strains of his Alpine song, as it mingled
with the roar of the cataract, and chimed with the
screams of the eagle, are the evidences of the power
by which it had been a prisoner. He feasted upon its
poison, until every fire which burned at the source of
that lofty genius went out in gloom. This, Richard,
is the history of a cherished melancholy, and it is pos.
sible that we may cherish it with the very breath by




NEW HOME.                 155
which we think we are trying to expel it. But few
of those who have given themselves over to its companionship, have ever been able to give a good reason
for doing so. Be assured that it is begotten in the
mind by an evil genius for an evil purpose, and
Eugene Aram and Lord Byron are fearful evidences
of its ulterior consequences. I would advise you to
break away, if it is possible, from that which will
overcast with gloom the brightest vision your imagination can conceive. A little poison may be good for
the system at times, but too much will kill-a little
melancholy may be good for the mind at times, but
too much will ruin it. You have told r me, in the history of your troubles, that your education from the
nursery was rather fashionable than religious. This
is your great misfortune, and it has been the misfortune and the ruin of many thousands. What shall
that be called which robs the child of its priceless
-birthright? What name does that omission wear
which fails to do what reason and revelation imperatively command?  So far as your worldly prospects
are concerned, I am sure you have no reason to be
cast down. Your winter is nearly passed by, I hope,
and the joyful spring-time is near at hand. It is true
that your earthly prospects have been wickedly and
wantonly blighted by the rumseller, —the all of
earthly competency upon which yourself and your
loved ones were dependent, is in the pockets of those




166              DICK WILSON.
who more than murdered your father, and with whom
God will yet reckon! You have had domestic afflictions of the severest character. The home of your
childhood has been broken up by a most wicked robbery. Your dead have been buried out of your
sight, and the cold damp grave encloses their forms.
You will see them no more. Beware of that monster
through whose influence this tempest of desolation
has been brought to your door. Fly from it and its
smooth-tongued abettors as you would from the very
gates of destruction! Why, Richard, you ought not
to feel gloomy. Just see what you have to live forand you have a prospect very soon of having your
dear ones with you."' Mrs. Watson, my sadness is more for them than
for myself," replied Dick.
"I know that, Richard, but why should it be so?
Your talents and education, with your amiable disposition, will bring you a reputation and a fortune at
any bar. You have many warm friends here, who
will do anything for you that may be necessary.
But I will forewarn you-and I do this for your
greater safety-that there are some who appear to be
your friends in your presence, and whom it would be
very unsafe for you to trust too far. These persons
have been trying, and they will still try, to accomplish
your ruin. They are not particular how they do itto accomplish it is the end; and any means which




NEW HOME.                 157
promises to bring it about will be unscrupulously
used."
" Ah! is this possible, Mrs. Watson?"
"Yes, I know it to be the case, and my husband
and myself have talked much about it, and concluded
that it would be best to put you on your guard against
them."
"' Do you know the cause, Mrs.Watson?"
"'Vell, Richard, in the first place, all the rumsellers in
the place, but one, are your enemies, and only, I presume, because you do not frequent their bar-rooms!"
" Well, Mrs. Watson, that is no loss-that's a clear
gain, and I am just that much safer; and if the other
one, who in some respects is a pretty clever fellow,
hated me too, then I should consider myself safe.
Mrs. Watson, I need not explain, but it is not a strange
thing that the drunkard's son should himself become
a drunkard i"
"Well Richard, that reason, in connection with a
spirit of jealousy, is all that I know."
"This," replied Dick, "is hardly a sufficient ground
of action against a young man who is as poor as I am,
and who has such responsibilities as mine.."
"MLeanness, vice, and duplicity, Richard, always act
without a reason, and hence it is that so much of their
action is in the dark. There is Horace Stevens-you
must watch that young man narrowly, as well as the
few who associate with him. He has, as you have




158              DICK WILSON.
no doubt learned, been raised in this place, or rather he
has grown up here. His father is one of our wealthy
men; but if you should ask him how and where
he accumulated his wealth, he would be ashamed to
tell you. He has become very proud now, and thinks,
I have no doubt, that his gold-headed cane and spectacles will dazzle people's eyes so much, that they
will not look to see where these things came from. I
will tell you something about him. He accumulated
his fortune in that' old stone house' where black Jim's
family live now, and it was one of the worst places
within many miles of this place; and twenty years
ago the better part of this community thought himself and his family unfit to live in civilized society.
Most of his family perished by intemperance! Yes,
that same proud, ignorant man, whom you will now
meet flourishing his cane in the street, has been the
cause of more tears, and griefs, and the loss of more
lives in this community, than all the other causes combined; and he is strongly suspected of having committed murder with his own hand. About twentyfive years since, a drover mysteriously disappeared
from his house, and there is but little doubt but he
knows all about it. His son Horace, as might be expected, is worthless. His father and Judge L  together, have managed to make him a lawyer, and he
intends opening an office here again, as he has several
times before in the course of three or four years; and




NEW HOME.                 159
he regards your plan of opening an office here as prejudicial to his interests; and the fact is, Richard, the
poor fellow knows no more about law than my little
Willie does."
"Do you think, Mrs. Watson, that Judge L —-  is
in this. matter?"
"I think he is; itis amongst the kind of people
with whom he always acts, and it would be a strange
thing if he should forsake the rumsellers and their
pets now."
"Well, Mrs. Watson, do you know a young lady
who is visiting at Judge L —'s, from New York."
"Oh yes, I know her very well —have you seen
her?"
"I'  have not, but Horace Stevens called on me this
evening, and spoke of her."
I" I hope you said nothing that will flatter her; for
she will hear every word you said, and probably
more."
"II rather think she won't call it flattery. I must
go. I feel better than I did when I came in. But I
must call again, and hear the history of the drover.
Mrs. Watson, if I do rise, and get the better of poverty, treachery, and the rumseller, I will ever remember with gratitude your family; and if I fallfor I feel the possibility of this every day; for I once
loved wine, and drank it freely-then let my memory
sleep in the grave I"




CHAPTER IX.
TEMPERANCE MEETING-ITS RESULTS.
" Sirs, ye know that by this craft
We have our wealth."
THE rumsellers at B —- were thrown into great
perplexity and consternation when they heard that on
the previous Sabbath Mr. Smith, the minister, had the
boldness to announce that on the following Wednesday there would be a meeting, to take into consideration the best means of lessening the evils of intemperance in the place. Such things had been attempted there before, but, unfortunately, the craftsmen had
generally managed to break them up in some way or
other, so that little, if any, benefit resulted from them.
This time the matter had been well considered by a
few before it was made public, and for that occasion
they had the promise, from a very eminent lawyer at
a distance, that he would be present; and when this
was understood, their consternation was greatly increased. They did not like this impudent lawyer, as
they called him, and they were afraid of his influence
and his speech, which they knew would be a plain




TEMPERANCE AMEETING-ITS RESULTS.   161
one, if he should come; and many of them hoped
that something would occur to prevent his coming.
MIr. Stevens and Judge L —, the one superannuated, and the other worse, were seen, during the
whole of the afternoon on Monday, parading the
streets. Early on Tuesday morning they were doing
the same. The rumsellers were all at their doors.
Their ostlers and boot-blacks seemed to have a holiday,
and their masters were watching the signs of'the
times. They were in a wonderful state of excitement, and in their imaginations, already they saw the
dimes, whose jingle was more familiar to them than
anything but profanity, sliding noiselessly into an
honorable channel.
As Judge L —-  and his particular friend, Mr.
Stevens, were passing Mr. Smith's quarters, apparently as much in a hurry as usual, Mr. Smith said
to them:
" Havn't you got one yet?"
" We havn't got any, and I don't think we will,"
was the half-growled reply of Mr. Stevens.
"Have you tried Squire B —-?" asked Smith.
"Yes, we have," said Judge L.
"What did he say?" continued Smith.
"Just what we might have expected," replied
Stevens; "that we might go to the devil, for he
wasn't going to disgrace himself with such business."
"Where else have you been?" said Smith.
11




162              DICK WILSON.
"Well, the fact is," said Judge  —, looking as
if he had got to the end of his judgment, which was
a very short distance by a straight line, " we have tried
everybody but Dick Wilson, and I doubt not that he
will serve us just as his unmannerly preceptor did.
If he will consent to appear on the stand for us, I
would rather trust him than any man in the village."
Do you think you can get him?" said another
rumseller, who had just come up, almost breathless
and trembling with agitation.
"It is doubtful," said Judge L ——; "but we will
make the effort," and off they started to test the
power of flattering words in winning him to their
service.
When they entered the office, they found just the
person who had a better right there than any other
person, and yet the very one they did not want to
see —Dick's preceptor, who half an hour before had
recommended them to the devil for suitable assist-.ance. Squire B — was sharp, as lawyers usually
are, and it didn't take him twenty-four hours to guess
what they had come for; and taking his cane in his
hand, he marched out of the office.
"This is a pleasant morning, Mr. Wilson," said
Judge L ——, and then added, "How does the law
go, Mr. Wilson?"
"' Rather slowly," said Dick, carelessly.
"I'll be bound," said Judge L —-, "you ought not




TEMPERANCE MEETING.-ITS RESULTS.  163
to say that, with the prospect you have before you.
Such talents as yours will win a reward anywhere.
Speaking is an indispensable, qualification for a successful lawyer, and if I had been a natural speaker, I
shouldn't have thanked the Governor for the Judgeship. You are a fine speaker, Mr. Wilson, and you
ought to improve all the opportunities you have to let
the people know it, and then, when you come to the
bar, you will at once be crowded with business. You
have heard, I presume, that the officious part of this
community are arraying themselves against those
whom they tauntingly call rumsellers, and that they
are to have a meeting to-morrow. We design drumming up one for the next day, and have called on you
to see if you will agree to take the stump for our cause
on that occasion.'
" No, Judge, I will not," said Dick, peremptorily.
"You had better do so, Mr. Wilson: it will be to
your advantage in more ways than one," said the
Judge, in a half-pleading and half-menacing tone.
" Why didn't you ask Squire B, before he left
the office?"
"We don't want him," said Mr. Stevens; "he would
do us more harm than good."
"No, no," said Judge L,' rather than try him,
I will risk the stump myself."
Just as the' Judge finished his negation and his lie,
Squire B — entered the office, and said,



164              DICK WILSON.
"Dick, this is a rare chance to immortalize yourself.
Go to the meeting, and speak there, and every respectable dog in the village will show you his teeth, and
every high-minded young lady, when you enter her
house, will show you the door. I would like to see
you going to Mr. Watson's or Mr. Shepard's after that.
They asked me to go, and I recommended them to go
where they get all their assistance in carrying on this
business."
"Why, Squire B, they have just told me they
wouldn't have you," said Dick, laughing.
"That was true, sir, when they found they couldn't
get me. I will defend a murderer in court whenever
I am called upon to do so, however aggravated the
case may be; but I will not let myself down to become an apologist for, or plead that cause which is
the origin of so much misery."
These gentlemen were chap-fallen, and left much
disappointed. The village was soon filled with handbills, calling together the worshippers of rum, on
Thursday afternoon, in the court-house, and to which
the announcement that Judge L - would address
the meeting, was appended in capitals.
"' This is a pretty piece of business," said one of a
company of rumsellers who had established themselves about an advertisement which graced the townpump, "that we, for our own safety, should be compelled to resort to self-defence in this way; for if it




TEMPERANCE MIEETING.-ITS RESULTS.   165
were not for us, the grass would-grow up in the streets
of this village."
"Yes," said another, "and it is a high-handed, daring act, for we have the law and the constitution on
our side. Judge L-   told me so, and he is right, T
am sure."
"Aye, aye," said a third, " but we'll fix this matter. I'm up to games of all kinds, and I sha'n't fail
this time. I'll tell you what I'll do: I'll make Jim
Watkins and Pete Ilany just drunk enough for them
to make their way to the church, and then I'll pay
them for going there; and as sure as guns, if they see
each other, they will kick up a fight right in the
house, and it will trouble them to part them."
" Do you think you can do this, Smith?" said one.
"Never mind, if I can't. I'm an old bird in that
work, and if I can't, nobody else need try. I'll go myself, ard watch the fun."
"Then, Smith," said one, "you must be hunting
up your birds. It is only about three hours now until they meet."
"I'11 be ready. It won't take me long to prime
them."
Just then they saw a man coming into the village
on horseback, and riding in a very easy, careless
manner.
Judge L — had, sometime before this, joined the
company, and suddenly looking up, and fixing his




166              DICK WILSON.
eyes on the advancing figure on horseback, he said,
"Good Heavens! boys, it's lawyer B! I  must
be getting out of this crowd."
It was too late, however; for in far-sightedness he
had no advantage of lawyer By; and he was, at
the very beginning of his retreat, greeted by the shrill
voice of the mounted man, calling him to stop. As
he brought his horse's head alongside, he said" Judge, I came here, by particular request, to make
a temperance speech to-day. This I know to be a
very disorderly place, and I will hold you responsible
for any annoyance or blackguardism which may be
witnessed at the meeting," and touching his horse,
which was like himself, of fine blood, he swept by the
crowd of abashed rumsellers, like a superior being.
After he was out of sight, a few steps brought Judge
L-  into the gang again, and then he said, "Smith,
you must not send those fellows there to-day; that
lawyer has great influence, and can kill this place if
he wishes to do so."
" How the devil can he do that?" inquired Smith,
in a rage.
"Why, he can kill me!" said the Judge.
"Well, I can't think you are all the place, by a
long ways."
"Well, if you do send them, Smith, remember I
won't speak at our meeting to-morrow."
At the appointed time, the meeting was organized,




TEMPERANCE MEETING.-ITS RESULTS.  167
and the business commenced in the old way, on the
general principles of voluntary abstinence. These
people although heartily sick of the rumseller's work,
yet they never dreamed that such a thing as the modern " Maine Law" could have an existence, and this
was not strange. Nobody wondered that Franklin
could not catch the lightning for which he was fishing
with his kite; but every one was astonished when it
became, from his experimenting, a common medium
of communication.
If there had been a possibility of procuring any
such law as the " Maine Law," they would have dropped at once the voluntary system; and they would
have seized the true instrument of success, and stampedfelony upon the traffic; but they had not reached,
by several years, the perfect day, and they intended to
do the very best they could, and oppose as mighty an
effort as possible, to those withering curses, before
which youth, manhood, age and innocence were being
prostrated, and whose very hearts were being torn out
of their bodies.
The lawyer, without any resolutions being before
the house, rose, and commenced his speech by giving
a glowing description of the squad of rumsellers who
had gathered about, and were hugging the town
pump, and how he had cut off Judge L-'s retreat
and secured good order for the occasion.
"Gentlemen," said he, "if you ever saw a rumsel



168              DICK WILSON.
ler who was a good man, you saw a man whose daily
practice was immeasurably overbalancing for evil,
both his profession and your opinion of his goodness."
This seemed to startle some of the audience, for it
was a strong expression, and some thought it was
going too far and too fast. If the lawyer had spoken
restrictively of the rumsellers of B --—, they would
not have questioned his opinion; but as it was, they
didn't know but he included the whole world, and
this they wer6 sure was a wide sweep. Said he again
-" If I were selling your sons and your daughters
bread with one hand, and double portions of poison
with the other, you would have a poor opinion of my
goodness-the rumseller, however, sells you no bread at
all, but poison and only poison."
The thing was becoming more reasonable, and even
those who were somewhat sceptical, in reference to
the proposition at first, when they saw the illustration,
said to themselves, " I guess he is about right."
" Never fear," said an old man, audibly, in answer
to some doubtings which he had overheard, " he is no
fool; he know'd every word he was going to say for
this week past."
When it seemed to the speaker that what he had
said had been digested-and this he understood by
the expression of their countenances, in which he
could read their hearts-for he had spoken too often




TEMPERANCE MEETING.-ITS RESULTS.   169
to juries to be out of tune or out of time with any.
thing by which he wished to -accomplish an end-he
said,"The rumseller has no more right, natural, acquird, or vested, to engage in measuring out ardent spirits
to a human being, than he has a right to open a shop
for the sale of arsenic; for although the latter acts
quicker than the former, still its effects are none tlhs
more certain or fatal.'?'11l tell ye he's right, John," said an old lady who
was sitting by her husband, who was a friend of the
rumsellers-" jist wait till he gets to the point, and
puts the saddle on."
I' You are all acquainted with George Handy," said
the speaker,' you see him in your streets every cay
-without character, the victim of insanity!  The parents of George Handy were to my knowledge
amongst the most respectable of your community,
and George himself started in the world with as good
prospects, and as fair a character, as any young man
could wish. Hee is yet young in years, but an old
man in everything else! Where is his wife? Where
is the heritage that should have been the portion of
his lovely daughter? Did the assassin, under the
cover of a dark night, as he was on his way to his
wife and child, plunge the dagger into his heart? Oh
no! for compared with the truth, this would have
been merciful, for it would have left competency and
H




170              DICK WILSON.
reputation to those who survived him. I say merciful, when compared with the lingering tortures which
was perpetrated upon his entire manhood by the rumseller's hands. To his bar, and I will mention the
name, I mean Smith's rummery, he came, and came
again, and at each coming, while his property and his
character were being filched from him, he in return
received the lingering poison-the warranty of disgrace! Am I right?"
" Oh! yes," said an old man,' fifty murders could
not have killed poor George as dead as he is to-day."
"Ah! John," said the old lady, "I told you to
wait until he got the saddle on. What do you think
now?"
" I guess he is right, Jinny-Smith is a bad man,
and I guess it would be better if the law would license
him to sell poison, and take away his whiskey from
him. I don't believe he would do as much harm."
After the usual interval for digestion had been
given, with a great effort he grasped the foundations
and the climax, and shaking them in a manner that
was terrifying to some, he said," Those who are aiding and abetting the raumseller
in this business, are no better than he is, and I will
add, that in my estimation they are worse I'"
And this, instead of following with a continuation
of his speech, as he had done before, he followed with
a pause, in which he seemed to be reading the hearts




TEMPERANCE MEETING.-ITS RESULTS.   171
of some in the assembly who were not duly sincere,
and whose marlcs and scratches it would not have been
difficult for a rumseller to have appended to his application for license-setting him forth to be a man
famed far and wide for temiperance and sobriety!
"I ain't the rumseller's friend," said one who
thought the eye of the lawyer was in his heart, looking up its character-" It's true I did sign Smith's petition the last time, but I tell you I don't do that
mean trick any more."
The speaker was a good deal circumscribed by the
time in which he was speaking, and concluded thus:
"Who sign those applications for license? They
are the rumseller's abettors! Who are willing to apologize for the wrongs which he is entailing upon humanity? They are his friends and upholders! Who
look on unconcernedly, when he is trying to trap a
human being?  They are his friends-in them  he
lives, moves, and has his being."
If that speech had been made in these days it would
have been moddled and modulated to suit the times,
and he would no doubt have said: Who is opposed
to the' Maine law'?  Who will plead for intemperance?  Who is in favor of rum legislation?  These
are they who give aid and comfort to the rumseller,
and inflict upon society the bitterest wrong.
After he had succeeded in making every one believe that everything he had said was true, he left




172               DICK WILSOo.
the stand, and was succeeded by Mr. S-    in a
style which although it had not all the vigor, yet it
had all the truthfulness of the one which had just preceded it.
After running over many of the points at which the
first speaker had only glanced, and presenting them
in a very clear light, he entered a little into the private
rum traffic of the village, by persons who would have
been ashamed to be called rumsellers; and yet in fact
they were, and are doing a great deal of injury by it.
He said it was not only at the hands of the professional rumsellers of the village that the community, in
every sense, were suffering, but that even merchants,
for the sake of adding'ill gotten gaiu' to their treasure, had, to some extent, enlisted in the business, and
if they did not sell it by drams they sold it by quarts,
gallons and barrels; and that it was carried home to
gratify the perverted appetites of those who loved it,
and to form in the young a taste for that, the use of
which will but destroy. These semi-grog shops, he
thought had a very ruinous tendency in whatever
light they might be regarded, and that they ought to
be included in the system, and to be held responsible
for the consequences.
After the business was all over, the people departed quietly, having heard more truth, and having enjoyed themselves better, than they had ever done at
a temperance meeting before.




TEMPERAINCE MEETING.-ITS RESULTS.  173
The street was perfectly clear. The rumsellers —
there was not one to be seen. Some persons did think
that they were making their observations from loopholes in their houses, and that probably they were trying to hunt up something which might give their
meeting on the morrow a sprinkling of decency. In
the evening the street was filled again with them and
their friends, looking up the elements of the coming
meeting.
It was pretty well noised abroad that on account of
their failure to get any other person, Judge L —- had
consented to make a speech, and this was quite a curiosity in itself, and would be likely to collect a curious crowd of spectators, and amongst them, many
who would not like to be considered amongst the
rumseller's friends; and, above all the rest, though it
was to be kept a secret, the lawyer made up his mind
to stay too, and hear what the Judge might have to
say on the occasion.
Dick Wilson made up his mind that he would go
too, And take with him, if he could persuade her to go,
Miss Handy. He called at Mr. Shepard's, and as
soon as a convenient opportunity offered, he asked
her if she would be willing to go to that meeting.
After a moment's hesitation she said, " Mr. Wilson,
how can I go there? These are the people who have
robbed me of father and mother, and who have thrown
me upon the charity of this good family; and now




174:             DICK WILSON.
they are laying their plans to practice the same cruelty upon others I"
" You will not be regarded as taking part with
them, Miss Handy," said Dick; " and if I thought so,
I am sure I would not go myself. For, so far as these
people have given me reason to have an opinion of
them, my opinion would hardly be more flattering to
them than your own; and while my reasons for thinking meanly of them are not resting upon a foundation
so fearful as yours, yet God knows I have no reason to
think well of them. They left me a little, but I am
not indebted to them for it; they took all that they
could, and the law measured it out to them-more I
think than was meet or merciful."
" Mr. Wilson, they have wounded me deeper than
a stranger's heart can ever know. My poor mother's
heart was broken into atoms by these men, and her
life went out amidst the wild dreams of insanity l
And my father-I meet him almost daily. I try to
get from him a single look of recognition, but I cannot-he does not know me. I am as a stranger to the
one who, but for the rumseller, would have been the
protector of my youth. I am alone in this world now,
so far as the ties of kindred are concerned; and at the
door of the rumseller I lay this charge of fearful robbery, knowing that he must account for it to God I No,
No I I cannot go I"




CHAPTER X.
RUMMIES IN COUNCIL.-THEIR DOINGS.
6Should he, when he pleases, and on whom he will,
Wage war, with any or with no pretence
Of provocation given, or wrong sustained,
And force the beggarly last doit by means
That his own humor dictates, from the clutch
Of Poverty; that thus he may secure
His thousands, weary of penurious life,
A& splendid opportunity to die?"
THE day which was to signalize the triumph of the
rumsellers at B   —, at last arrived.
This was to be a mighty affair!  It was to give a
death thrust to the temperance reform in that village,
and its friends would then look on, and smile to see it
die I On the preceding evening, when the sweeping
propositions of the " big lawyer" were generally known
to the rumsellers, they were filled with fire and fury,
and determined to deluge the place with rum.  They
happened to meet under the awning of a miserable
grocery compared  with the keeper of which  even
Smith was a prince, and there they had it in a manner
which, to relate, would be offensive to the ear of decency-and we will pass it.
On the same evening, in  another place, another




176               DICK WILSON.
company were gathered to consult on the best means
to be used to give the meeting an appearance wlich
would not frighten their friends, who might come from
a distance to aid them in striking their terrible blow.
This company was small and noiseless, when compared
with that under the awning.  It comprised Judge
L —-- and the superannuated Stevens, the file-leaders
of the whole matter. Said the Judge, as he removed
from his lips his glass of brandy,"It would be bad for us if the -time should ever
come when this delicious stuff should be taken from
"Yes," said Stevens, sorrowfully, "I I don't want to
live to see that time, for I couldn't live long after it."
The rumselling business," said Judge L ——,  is
a fine business in this village. I suppose one half of
the money in the township passes through their
hands."
"Ytes fully that much; and it takes nearly the
other half to pay contingent expenses."
6If you value your rum, Stevens, you musn't
whisper such a thing as that where any of our enemies can get hold of it," replied the Judge.  "But)
come, it isn't our business to furnish arguments for
these people. Let them take care of themselves, We
mnust prepare for to-morrow. Do you know if that
bla sawyer has gone?"
"Yes, he has," replied Stevens; d "I saw him dash.




RUTMMIES IN COUNCIL.           177
ing over the hill this evening. He wouldn't venture
to show himself here to-morrow. If he did, he would
be carried on a rail."
" Good Heavens!" said the Judge, "I am glad to
hear that. You'll hear a speech from me to-morrow
that will knock the brains out of everything he said.
I've got the legal and constitutional side of this question, and I tell you, I'll make the fur fly. Ha! ha I
indeed! That impertinent scoundrel to come here and
say that decent men, because they are the friends of
the rumsellers, are aiding and abetting in murder!
I'll show him which side of the bread is buttered!
Stevens, we musn't make any calculation that we are
going to have this meeting to ourselves; for this will
not be the case. I met Dick Wilson, and Watson,
and Shepard, and Squire B —, this evening, and
every one of them looked as if they had the devil in
their eyes. They are up to something, and we had
better be prepared for it. George Handy will be
there. He never misses these kinds of gatherings,
and if he should appear there to-morrow as I saw him
in the street to-day, he would prejudice our cause
very much. I tell you what I will do: I will hunt
up a suit of my old clothes, if you will find a boy to
carry them up to the poor-house in the morning."
"Your clothes are too big for him, Judge," said
Stevens, " and everybody will know them."
"That is just what I want," said the Judge, "and
I             f12




178               DICK WILSON.
this very thing will give point to my speech. I will
send a note to the steward to compel him to put them
on."
"I'll do it," said Stevens, triumphantly.
"Now," said the Judge, "there is one thing yet
which is of more consequence to us than George
Handy. Mrs. Armstrong, you know, is very poor,
and is to a gTeat extent supported by the charity of
our enemies. Now can't we do something for her that
can be pretty well noised abroad before to-morrow
noon?'
"'Yes, we can so," said Stevens, with a very charitable look.  "I will give the half towards buying her a
calico dress, if you will give the other half."
"Come, come, Stevens," said the Judge, "on this
occasion you will have to go further into your generosity than that. Now, I'll tell you what I will do. I
have got a cow that is worth twenty-five dollars in any
man's money, and if you will insure me two-thirds of
that amount, I will send her down to Mrs. Armstrong
in the morning, and I will send a bag of bran into the
bargain."
" She must be a good cow," said Stevens.
" There never was a better one," continued the Judge,
"and you can well afford to give the half yourself.
You know where that woman's property went."
" Well, Judge," said Stevens, " it's a devil of a lift;
but I suppose we must stand it. I'll agree to raise all




RUMMIES IN COUNCIL.           179
I can out of Smith and Fritz and the rest of them;
and'11 call on some of the store-keepers too: they
ought to aid; and then I'll pay the balance myself.
But if it wasn't for the meeting, I wouldn't give one
cent!"
About nine o'clock in the morning everybody in
the village knew that Judge L -    had given Mrs.
Armstrong a cow, and, as might be expected, it was
a matter of much curiosity to many.
As the hour of the meeting drew on, troops of the
rumsellers' friends were seen crowding into the village, and, taken all together, they were a very fair representation of the trade. The quarters of the different rumsellers of the place were filled to overflowing,
and a majority of them were in the process of being
filled with rum. Crowds of boys were in the streets,
admiring the appearance and occasionally the swaggering dexterity of the jolly host.
A new object of attraction suddenly arrested the
attention of the boys. It was George Handy, arrayed in Judge L —'s  old broadcloth. The poor fellow looked unusually bright this morning, and the
cheerlessness of insanity seemed to have partially
passed away. He halted in front of Smith's door,
where the cruelty of the boys, encouraged by the
grimaces of the bystanders, most of whom were passing through the very same process through which
poor George had passed, and which had made him




180              DICK WILSON.
what he was, soon set George in a rage. Smith came
to the door, and as he was attempting to lay violent
hands on the poor fellow, George, by what some
would call a luckless blow, left him sprawling in the
gutter beside him, which was a very fit place for him.
The bell of the old court-house, whose walls were
accustomed to the recital of events connected with the
rum traffic, at last told the community that the magnificent spectacle was about to concentrate in the
court-room. The room was soon filled, so that not
another one could get in. Those who were merely
spectators, who had gone early and without any preconcerted plan, were seated on one side of the house,
and that side contained the well-developed proportions of the "big lawyer."  The other side contained
the bone and sinew of the rumsellers' forces in that region, and amongst them, very conspicuously, sat
George Handy, the man whom they had so cruelly
cursed. The contrast between the two sides of the
house was perfect, and some one, on the side of the
spectators, was heard to say —" 1Deliver me from this
body of death "'  The bar on this occasion was crowded with rum-manufacturers and rumsellers, and constituted the pageant toward which all eyes were
directed.
After a few moments, at the instance of Judge
L-, who had not noticed that lawyer B —— was
in the assembly, an old and, as the Judge said, a




RUMMIES IN COUNCIL,           181
very respectable manufacturer of rum, was called to the
chair; and in answer to the question as to where the
presiding officer should sit, George Handy called out
-"In the prisoner's box I  After this officer had
found a place where his dignity might repose, a motion was again made by Stevens that Richard Wilson,
Esquire, should be called on to act as secretary, and
in a moment, Smith, looking out from the black,
swollen eye which George's blow had given, said —
"' I second the motion."
In an instant Dick was on his feet, and many of
them, thinking that he was eager to jump at the honor
tendered him, began to cheer him. As soon as this
mark of respect was hushed, he said:
"Gentlemen, I gave you notice night before last,
that you could expect no assistance from me."
Then the difficulty was to find a man whose hand
was steady enough to make out an intelligible copy
of their proceedings for the printer; for they intended that the whole world should be filled with the fame
of that jubilee.
This meeting was almost the counterpart of one
held for the same purpose in the city of New York,
less than a year since, and there was about the same
difficulty in getting a respectable organization in the
one case as in the other. Of this meeting at B   -,
however, it was never said, when their printed proceedings appeared, that they had many names which




182               DICK WILSON.
belonged to no one in particular. In most of their
features these two meetings are so nearly allied, that
one familiar with the meeting at B —-- would say,
that the rumsellers in Gotham must have had a copy
of its proceedings, and that they only departed from
the form when they were using names to their pulblished proceedings.
The cow story had been heard by all who were in
the court-house, and George Handy, in the Judge's
cloth, was there to speak and answer questions for
himself. Judge L.-   was called on, and immediately spread himself, preparatory to his speech; and
without looking to see whether any but the jury were
there, he commenced, by saying:
" Ladies and gentlemen, I regret the necessity which
has called me to appear before you at this time, for
nothing but imperative necessity could have induced
me to do so. Innovations in religion, morals andlaw,
are everywhere to be reprobated, and good citizens
should set their faces against them. Innovations on
the natural rights of individuals and constitutional infractions are especially to be deprecated; and it is to
consider innovation in reference to these two last
named points that we are met here at this time.
"The liquor traffic, at this day, seems to be something against which a certain portion of the community are conspiring and arraying themselves, with
malice afore thought, which is the evidence of deprav



RUMMIES IN COUNCIL.           183
ed mind, regardless of the natural, and I may add,
constitutional rights of others. Rights, my friends,
are everlasting things! Law is the defence of the weak
against the strong, and lest it should be made worse,
ought to abide as it is, and no one ought to be guilty
of the heinous crime of interfering with constitutions I
God save tle commonwealth from those wolves who would
devour it!"
Here Smith gave a hearty cheer.'" Gentlemen, let me direct your attention to my
venerable friend, the president of this assembly. Look
at him! His locks are whitened now by the frosts of
many years; and the fruit which the grave is claiming is nearly ripe, and ready to fall. He came into
this community poor, when most of you were children.
He did not remain poor. His natural energy and noble-heartedness moved him forward. In a few years
after, he established a distillery in your vicinity, and
while he has enriched himself, he has also helped to
enrich the county. Who purchased your barley, your
rye and corn?  Where were you always sure to find
a market for what you had to spare? Who gave you
the means by which you were enabled to clothe and
educate your children? Gentlemen, a grateful heart
is pleasing to God. Remember that, and remember
too, that ingratitude always meets its reward. Then
I would have you use your influence to spare the feelings of that old man, who is left to us from the past,




184               DICK WILSON.
and who is soon to go the way of all flesh, and be
seen no more in your community.'"I said, gentlemen, that natural rights were everlasting —I believe the technical term is inalienableand that is stranger yet. A natural right means that
which an individual has a right to do, under all circumstances, independent of any thing or person to the
contrary notwithstanding!  Now, on this principlefor you cannot help but see how broad it is-my
friend in the chair has right enough and room enough to
carry on his business to any extent that he pleases,
and what is right for him is right for all.
"And now, gentlemen, for the retailers of our drainms
I claim the same privileges, and I insist that they are
entitled to them! What! When a gentleman enters
their house and calls for a meal of victuals, is he to
be refused?  Is he to be told, You can't be accommodated, sir?  Then take away his privilege to sell spirits, and this is the very thing you must expect —the
very thing you will meet; and hungry as you may
be, you can have nothing! Why, gentlemen, tavernkeeping would not be worth a pin, if the right to sell
liquor were taken away, and the best houses in the
land would close their doors; then I guess you would
see, to your cost and sorrow too, what kind of entertainment these constitutional vampyres would give you.
6 I am advised, gentlemen, that a travelling lecturer,
without either character or talents, who entertained a




RUMMIES IN COUNCL,.            185
few people for half an hour, yesterday, at the church,
said, in the course of his incoherent remarks, that we
have no right to sell rum; that it was even worse
than assassination, and that they had as good a right
to sell poison, knowing it to be intended for self-dec
struction. And further, that those who favored itand I suppose he meant myself-were no better than
the rumsellers! I wish I had been there. I would
have told him that rumsellers could make the widow's
heart glad, and that they and their friends could give
to those whom Providence had afflicted-as in the person of George Handy-a respectable appearance. Yet
we are told they are bad men! and I am a bad man I
But for what, unless it be for our kindness to the
poor, and our money?",Many persons were remarking very unusual excitement in the countenance of George Handy. It seemed as if reason was struggling with insanity for its
old habitation. The evidence of this excitement became more and more perceptible as the Judge proceeded; and just as he uttered the words, " Smith is
not chargeable with George TIandy's misfortunes,"
George rose, and, with an effort in which he seemed
struggling to reclaim reason, he said,"Am  I in hell?  If not, where am I?  Judge
L —," he continued, " do not criminate Providence I
Do not say that Smith's mercy was more than the
mercy of God! —for it is a lie, and you know it. It is




186              DICK WILSON.
true that I am dressed in your cast-off clothes; but
still, with the little light which the murderous spirit
of Smith has left me, I will bear witness against every
word you have said. I know that it is false! I have
proved that it is false; and while you are standing
here to defend the rumseller, you are worse than he is.
I will soon be where you cannot see me, but while I
am able I will daily walk these streets, to torment
yourself and your clan, and warn others against your
wickedness."
Hiere poor George, with a convulsive shudder, sank
again into his seat. Every one was surprised, for no
one in several years had heard from him a coherent
sentence.
"ThiS," said the Judge, " is the doings of that fellow who was here yesterday. Why, they are even
making madness itself more mad!"
4" Judge L,'" said the lawyer, who was not able
to stand this any longer,' whence did you derive
your legal opinions?"
"None of your business," said he, before he had
time to see from whose mouth the question had come.
Turning his head, and seeing the commanding figure
of the lawyer, drawn up to its full length, he quailed
for a moment, and then said, "Why did you ask me
that question?"
"Because I thought you might recover damages,"
said the lawyer.




RUMMIES IN COUNCIL.          187
"What do you mean," said the Judge, a good deal
confounded.' I mean that the man who taught you the defini.
tion and principles of law which you have advanced,
ought to be indicted for ignorance, and yourself ought
to be in the same condemnation. You have taken
the liberty to be very ungentlemanly towards myself,
when you thought I was not present. I am here, and
I will try to hear you to the end-go on, Judge."
This was the winding up of the Judge's speech.
For the life of him, although he labored excessively,
he couldn't get out another word. He knew that
Dick's preceptor, and others of equal intelligence were
present, who could detect his mingling of ignorance
and duplicity, but for these he did not care. But
when called to account by the "big lawyer," disap.
pointment and anger drove him to his seat.
Here the very venerable chairman-the man who
was poor and had become rich-the man whose head
was white for the harvest of death-the man who had
been such a signal blessing to that community-the
man who would soon be seen no more amongst them
— this very venerable man rose and said,"This is what I expected-nothing better could be
expected. Here the judge of the court has been interrupted while explaining law to his friends, and he
can't go on at all. These are gentlemen indeed! It
would be a favor if all who are in the house, and who




188              DICK WILSON.
ain't with us, would leave," and down the old man
went into his chair.
"We will accommodate you," said the lawyer,' and you will be welcome to what is left."
There was a demonstration at once towards the
door, and the venerable president, fearing that himself
and the Judge, who was yet choking on his speech,
were to be left alone, called out, saying, "I did not
mean that all should go-the meeting is not closed."
This, however, did not stop those who were under
way; and very soon everything which would have
been desirable in almost any other place than a rum
meeting, was safely out of the house; and everything
that was left, except in number, was, for all the world,
a fac simife of its great antitype in Gotham; and it
could not well have been otherwise, for the cry of
both was, "give me rum or Idie."
It would be vain to attempt to describe the appearance of what was left in the house. "Now," said
Judge L, "we are alone, and we will have leave
to transact our business in a peaceable and orderly
manner, as good citizens should do."
"Ah!" said Stevens, "the cow didn't do us much
good," —" Mr. George Handy, either," said the Judge;
and Smith declared he wouldn't pay one cent towards
the cow, and that after that, drunkard's widows might
take care of themselves, for all that he would do to
help them."




RUrMMIES IN COUNCIL.           189
The venerable distiller rose again, and began to set
forth in as plaintive a style as he could command, the
great service which he had rendered to that commu1nity, and then dwelt at some length on the ingratitude
of a large portion of those who, now in his old age,
had turned against him, and were for driving him out
of his stewardship.
The poor old man seemed to think that Judge
L  -'s definition of natural rights was true to the
very letter; and that God had given to him a special
right to entail misery upon his creatures until his last
breath.
As might be expected, when the restraint of a decent audience had been removed, confusion soon introduced itself; and however much they may have
intended to accomplish, nothing more was done, and
in the midst of angry words and pugilistic gesticulations, the thirsty crowd retired to the quarters of the
different rumsellers; and the wrecks of this splendid
pageant for several days after, were visible in the gutters of B  - -.
The views then entertained by this old man of his
"divine right" to sell rum, still exist in the minds of
many at the present day; and the idea that any legal
restraints are to be imposed upon the business, is
looked upon by them  as the most odious tyranny.
Against this they therefore combine; and especially
close and earnest is this combination against the only




190               DICKr WILSON.
effectual remedy that has ever been suggested for the
evils of rumselling-against THE MAINE LAW. It iswe will not say amusing-it is humiliating, to see the
candidate for official place quake with fear before the
dreaded influence of this combination, and seek, by
every means in his power, to secure it in his behalf.
Nay, more: to see grave legislators, when called upon
to vote upon the question of enacting the Maine Law,
to give a faint aye or nay, and to attempt to pacify the
rum interest by flimsy apologies. This, however, will
never satisfy the friends of the law. They think they
see in this what has often been vainly sought for in
various other ways-something that will effectually put
an end to the traffic in rum, and of course remove the
temptations which are now enticing the young at
every corner. This idea is possessing the public mind
with the earnestness of complete conviction, and the
happy effects of the Maine Law, wherever it has been
tried, tend forcibly to rivet and extend this conviction.
It is believed, therefore, that this pervading public
sentiment will soon be crystalized into the permanent
form of efficient public law.




CHAPTER XI.
THE PARTY.-THE SNARE.-THE ESCAPE.
"I know a breast which once was light,
VWhose patient sufferings need my care;
I know a heart which once was bright,
But drooping hopes have nestled there;
Then while tear-drops nightly steal
From wounded hearts that I should heal,
Though boon companions you should be,
0 I comrades, fill no glass for me!':N the breast of Dick Wilson one peculiar, lovely
hope rose above every other, and melted in warm  and
confiding tenderness amidst the still dear ruins of the
wreck which he was endeavoring to raise.  On no occasion did the image of his home pass entirely from
his mind. To him it was an ever-abiding, present reality; and the joys of the stranger's heart had not the
mystic power to drive sadness from his.
He was conscious of his poverty, and he knew but
too well that others must be equally conscious of it.
Dick's wardrobe was getting scanty, indeed; and this
was all the more annoying from  the fact that he did
not know how it was to be replenished.
Before this startling reality he quailed, as he was
sitting  alone, taking a cautious survey of his worn




192               DICK WILSON.
garments, and seemingly trying to ascertain how long
they would probably hold together. He was looking
first at the elbow of his coat, then at the knees of his
pantaloons, then at his hat and boots, and patched
linen, and ejaculated, "Yes, these relics of better
times are all going together —T-hey will soon be done.
I am not used to this,-I have given away better
clothes than these, often; and I have no means to replenish them. But I am glad that my mother and
Eliza do not know it, since for their sakes I would be
willing to be even more stinted than I am; and to see
them smile again as they once smiled, before the rumseller came to our Eden, I would endure anything that
was tolerable."
In the midst of these unpleasant thoughts the stagecoach from P~  drove up to the office opposite his
window.  "Ah!'" said he, "' I shall perhaps get a letter from mother to-day, and if I do I shall feel much
better. If it were not for such letters, I could not
keep up as well as I do; but when I know how patiently they are all suffering, I ought not to repine."
He could hear from his place all the noise and confusion which usually awaited the arrival of the stage
at B ——, and he overheard the landlord who kept
the hotel, saying, "This trunk is for Dick Wilson,"
and in the next breath he heard the surly reply of a
young man who was standi ng by,"Well, the Lord knows if there is anything in it in




THE PARTY -SAilE —ESCAPE.      193
the shape of money or clothing, it will be a'Godsend' to him, for he is almost naked. Why, he hasn't
a thing on his back that isn't thread-bare; and if he
don't recruit very soon, he will lose all influence in
this community, and then he'll be as good as dead."
Dick heard the sharp voice of Mr. Jacobs the landlord, quickly replying to this evidence of littleness, by
saying,"Well, Horace, the Lord knows another thing just
as well as he knows that, and this whole community
know it, and you seem to be the only one who does
not know it. If you could exchange some of your
fine clothes and money for what brains Dick Wilson
could spare, and still be rich, I tell you it would be a
precious God-send to you; but your case is hopeless!
You are living here and sporting upon money which
I am told has been acquired in every way but an honest one, and now you rise up and lay claim to censorship, and talk about influence! You had better go
down to the' Old Stone House,' famed all over the
State for its debauchery, and then talk about infience
as it was about twenty years ago; and Black Jim,
who lives there now, if he knew the whole history,
wouldn't go partners with you in your position or influence. Dick Wilson is moving himself forward with
commendable energy, in despite of poverty, to make
his way to competency, and you are moving towards
the poor-house; and that is the appropriate place for
13




19t1            n]ca. WILSSO.
you. Your influence indeed! Good Heavens  what
a precious thing it must be in your estimation! I
would just as soon have'IBlack Jimn's influence as
yours, for it is really greater, and will be more enduring."
Of this conversation Dick had not lost a single
word; and he knew the person very well by whom
it was commenced, so that such expressions, although
not intended for his ears, were not wholly unanticipated by him.
He stepped to the door at once and inquired of Mr.
Jacobs, who was still standing by the stage, if his
name had not been mentioned.
"Yes, Mr. Wilson," said Mr. Jacobs, his face slightly coloring as he spoke, "here is a trunk for you,
from P., and I have just been having a word with
that young rowdy, who is marching off, in reference
to it."
"Yes," said Dick, smiling gratefully, "I heard you,
and I guess he thought you severe."
"I don't care what he thought, Mr. Wilson," replied he, "such good-for-nothing fellows deserve severity."
"Well," said Dick,' I thank you-am glad I have
found that fellow out."
" Yes, Mr. Wfilson, if you have had any confidence
in him, it is a good thing that you have found him
out, for he is intemperate in his habits and hypocriti



THE PARTY-SNAtE -— ESCAPE.       195
cal in his conduct. Mr. Wilson, my term in this house
expires in the spring, and then I am going to look out
for some more honorable employment than selling
rum. I have some respect for myself-some regard
for my fellow men, and more than all, for my family;
and I will no longer compromise these interests by remaining in this business. Here is your trunk, Mr.
Wilson," and turning to a black man who stood beside him, he said, "Here, Sam, take this trunk to Mr.
Wilson's boarding-house immediately."
Dick thanked him kindly, and then turned into
the office, preparatory to following his unknown treasure. He was soon ready, and just as it was placed
upon the wheel-barrow, he passed from the door and
kept pace with it. As might be expected, Dick's mind
was on the trunk, and everything disconnected with
it just then was an abstraction. At last Sam, puffing
under the rays of a burning sun, said:
"'Massa Wilson, I guess dis yer trunk am somewhat full. It's a mighty good load for one, I tell you.
I tink Missus must sent you lots ob money dis time,
and more good tings, too. My gracious! massa, de
sun come down hot on dis nigger's back-I tell you,
massa. Mighty rickety wheel-barrow dis is!"
Dick understood the point of this philosophizing,
and when Sam had carried the trunk into his room, he
handed him a quarter, at the sight of which Sam's
eyes expanded considerably, and he said:




196              DICK WILSON.
6"God bless you, Massa Wilson. Sam remember
you for dis yer kindness. I wish, massa, you'd git a
trunk ebery day."
Dick had to break the lock, and this he was not
long in doing; and soon the contents of the trunk
were before him. His heart was glad as he beheld the
elements of a princely wardrobe, in his own quarters,
and himself the owner, with more than a sufficient
sum of money to defray all the expenses necessary to
fit it to his person. But the joy was only momentary; for it was interrupted by the thought that the
value of these things would have been better bestowed if they had been given to his mother.
"This," said he, "if it had been given in some
other shape tQ my mother and sister, would have
been better bestowed, and although my wants are
pinching enough, still I should have preferred it."
While such reflections as these were passing through
his mind, his eye caught sight of a slip of paper,
which he thought must have dropped from the trunk,
and might perhaps be an explanation, as there is
never anything connected with the charitable gift
which is unnecessary. As soon as he opened it-for
it proved to be more than a slip —he said, in delight:
"From Eliza! Then they know all about this.
Let me read it:
"'Dear Dick: A very kind friend has sent you
this handsome present. I am not at liberty tn w'o




THE PARTY —-.SNAE —-ESCAPE.      197
tion the name, as I would like to do; but I may add
that we have all been remembered together.  We
have shared largely in the same liberality. I will
tell you all about it when we get into one family
again, as I hope we shall before long. Dick, we pray
for you daily. Keep up, my poor brother. We are
all well. We visit at Mrs. Livingston's to-morrow.
Write immediately. Good-bye.          Eliza.'"
Joy, in its fulness, rushed into his heart again, and
he: felt happy; for if he did not know the name of the
donor, he felt that it was a gift of pure benevolence
-a benevolence which looked not for a reward from
man, but the aim of which was higher and holier than
an earthly reward.
As he was passing back to the office, he found Sam
mounted like a prince on a hitching post, at the door
of the hotel, entertaining a half dozen of his sable
brethren with his philosophizing propensities, for he
was what is called a' cute nigger,' and nothing escaped
his observation; and to his mind there was something
wrong about everything in which he had not a share.
As Dick was passing by, Sam, with a good deal of impertinence, said:
"Massa Wilson, you found de trunk all right side
up, did you?"
"Oh, yes, Sam," said Dick, cheerfully.
"Well, Massa Wilson," said Sam, "you wouldn't
find it in dis way if any nigger but myself had toted




198              DICK WILSON.
it down thar on that broken-backed barrow. It takes
dis nigger to do smart tings. When you gits a trunk
agin, jist call on Sam. He's allers about."
" Yes, I will call on you, Sam."  But Dick thought
that the repetition of such an event was probably a
good way off.
A few days after this, he was sitting alone in the office, very busily engaged in making out and arranging
some papers for Squire B -—, which were intended
for the Supreme Court, and just as he had finished,
enveloped and marked them, and was about to put
them into the proper'pigeon-hole,' a young colored
boy entered the office, making the inquiry —
" Is dis whar Massa Dick Wilson be?"' Yes, my boy," said Dick, "I suppose I am the
person for whom you are inquiring; but you ought
not to say Mhssa Wilson. You ought to say Mister
Wilson. We have no such titles in this latitude."
"Yes, Massa Wilson, but den you got de ting itself
and Sanco can't see for why you no hab de name too.
I tell you, Massa, Judge I —  be no more massa at
de soufe dan he be at de norfe. I'll be bound he be
massa wharever him can cotch a nigger."
"You live with Judge L  -, do you, Sanco?" inquired Dick.'
"I stays dar, Massa Wilson. Nobody lib at his
house dese times but Miss Lucy, from New York, and
Hlorace Stevens. All de rest only stay now 1"




THE PARTY-SNARE-ESCAPE.           199
" What do you want with me, Sanco?"
"My gracious! massa, you's so kind. I most forgot
dis yer note. Here it is. It's berry sweet, I guess.
Most de whole ob denm fussed about it. Look out,
massa  Missus from New York writ dat note, and a
mighty sight of fun dey's had ober it too! Dey say
some tings, massa. Dey seem to tink Sanco got no
ears,'cause he's got a black skin. But mercy! Sanco
mustn't for de life ob him say, or Judge L — skin
dis yer nigger'live! Dat ain't all gold, massa, what
shines-dat's a fact, it ain't-'cause den niggers' eyes
be gold in de night: in fact, den most de whole nigger
be gold all de time.'Member dis, massa. Sanco says
look out! IDis mean somet#ifng, massa."
Although this little colored boy had awakened a
strong current of curiosity in the mind of Dick, yet he
was too honorable to attemlpt to wrest any secrets from
him. The peculiar emphasis of the bearer, as well as
his meaning hints, were the evidences that he had
matters of importance which he would like to communicate, buat that the fear of the lash prevented him
from approaching nearer than an indistinct hint or a
meaning emphasis. Dick might have drawn from him
the whole matter -he might have opened his commnunicative heart and taken from it its treasured secrecy
-for there is no power before which this race become
so entirely impotent over their own hearts as by kindiess-and Dick had the very kind of nature by which




200              DICK WILSON.
he could have taken everything from it. He, however, had a sense of honor, which prevented him from
doing many things, merely because he could do them,
irrespective of the rights and feelings of others. To
him, if that heart was crowned with a woolly head, it
was just as sacred as if God had given it a covering
more indicative of nobility.
He opened the note at once, and he could not help
admiring the nice mechanical beauty of the hand in
which it was written. It was from Judge L ——'s
family, sure enough, and contained for him an invitation to attend, in a few evenings, a party at Judge--—'s, which was designed to be complimentary to
Miss Lucy S-, the reputed belle from New York.
Dick thought that the expression of consideration
which the note contained for himself, was over-wrought,
and this, in connection with the fact that Horace
Stevens had something to do with it, to his mind,
made it altogether a suspicious affair, calling upon him
to treasure the simple hints of Sanco.
From all he had seen, and from what he had overheard from Horace Stevens a few days before, he coneluded that this was a trap set for some purpose; but
what that purpose could be, unless it was what Mrs.
Watson had told him, he could not divine.
"Well,' said he, "whatever may be the object, I
have the advantage this time; for I can stay or go,
just as I choose. My clothes will be finished to



THE PARTY —SNARE —ESCAPE.         201
morrow. If this invitation had come a week earlier,
why then I couldn't have done just as I chose, unless
I had chosen to stay away, or go with these clothes:
and that I shouldn't very likely have done. I can
now go, and make a respectable appearance, too, and
perhaps by a violent effort I may be able to keep up
my caste with Horace Stevens, and the precious knighthood which he inherits from the old stone house and
the drover's saddle-bags."
Dick felt that in the very step which he was about
to take, or refuse to take, there might be consequences
of more importance than from his knowledge there
was reason to expect. Suspicions are hardly ever
awakened prematurely, in the hearts of those who are
naturally confiding and unsuspicious; but when once
they are awakened, it is a difficult matter to allay
them.
He knew something of Judge L's character,
and the influences by which he was surrounded; and
concluded to be governed in this matter by whatever
advice he might get from Mr. Watson's family in reference to it, for he was assured that they were his
friends.
As soon as it was convenient to do so, Dick entered
Mr. Watson's house, and was met at the door by Mrs.
Watson, who immediately asked the question. " Richard, are you going to the party at Judge L ——'s?"
1*




202             nDICK WILSON.
Dick saw through her mischievous smile, and replied,
"With your permission, Mrs. Watson."
"That's a good boy," said Mrs. Watson, smiling,
and then assuming her ususal demeanor, which was
pleasant, she said, " you have an invitation, Richard? "
" Verily I have," said he, taking it from his pocket,
"here it is."
Mrs. Watson looked at it a moment, and then remarked, "They have taken more pains with yours
than they did with mine."
"Ain't they written in the same' style?" inquired
Dick.
"No, I guess they ain't, Richard, nor by the same
hand either-they want you more than they do me.
However, I shall go, and it will be purely on your account. I suppose you have made up your mind to go?"
"I don't know that I have, Mrs. Watson. I anm
afraid, from all that I can get hold of, that there is
treachery in this."
" There is no doubt of it, Richard, and it will only
become visible as they reveal it. If Judge L-. has
had anything to do with it, you may depend it is a
complicated affair. But go, Richard, by all means.
Look yourself, just as if you suspected nothing, and
yet be watchful of everything, and you will in this
way more than half conquer those who are engaged
in this business."




TilE PARTY-SN ARE —ESCAPE.       203
"Is Mr. Watson going?"
"Yes, certainly; and that too on your account."
"Then, Mrs. Watson, I will go; and I want you to
help me to watch everything that may be on foot
concerning us. Have they asked Mr. So?"
"' Oh dear me-I guess not. He is too hard on the
rumsellers for that, and they would not have asked
myself and husband, only in hope that it might induce
you to go. If they didn't want me, they will be disappointed, for I will go. I have some curiosity to see
what a party at Judge L —'s looks like."
The evening at length came, and was very pleasant
and beautiful. The village seemed to be in commotion, for parties were things which only occurred occasionally, and not often enough to keep one in their
ways; but a party at Judge L ——'s! why, it was
everybody's wonder. Such a thing had never before
been known.
On this evening, Dick saw again, in all the vividness of a life-like dream, his princely home, with an
unstinted elegance, and in the midst of this vision, as
he had often seen it in reality, he saw moving the fine
form of his father, and close by his side two lovely
sisters, and by a table a mother, in matronly pride,
with the infant Harry in her arms, wrapt in the fulness of her domestic joys.
The circumstances, no doubt, had much to do with
the frame-work of this fragile fabric, which soon was




204              DICK WILSON.
to be swept away into the land shadowed by dreams.
But if the circumstances could awaken these things,
which were so much like a reality, it was only by contrast. From such contemplations Dick Wilson was
awakened to enter a house which was not naturally
great, but around which circumstances, for the time,
had been pleased to throw a fictitious greatness. It
was to such a place that he was called, exhorted, and
persuaded, and yet, astonishing as it was, it was at the
house of Judge L —.  The fact is, there were a great
many positions which would have suited the Judge's
abilities much better than the one of which he then
appeared to have possession. Hie was a good judge
of a horse, an excellent judge of brandy, and a most
unscrupulous miser, and an intimate and confidential
friend of the liquor-dealers, for whose interest and his
own he would make the law and the evidence bend at
any time; and they said, with heart and soul, "he is a
great an-he is our helper in the time of need."
Dick Wilson was arrayed in new habiliments, and
his appearance was neat and gentlemanly. He was
very tall, rather slender, and as straight as an arrow;
and when he wished to do so, he could be as dignified
as a prince.
"Now," said he to himself, "Sanco, Massa D)ick
Wilson is ready to be off, and to look out too, and
thank fortune he has some good friends to help him."
One half-hour in the midst of that throng-which




THE PARTY-SNIARE-ESCAPE.          205:
was anything but respectable-found Dick calm and.
self-possessed. He found a number of his real friends
there, who did everything in their power to make him
enjoy himself; —there were some there also who had
made a profession of friendship for him, but he had
read their duplicity, and on that occasion was perfectly willing that they should come to a knowledge
of it.
He had determined, before going, that under no circumstances, for a single moment, would he be tempted
to. relax his vigilance; and from certain things which
had already transpired, his resolution was rather
strengthened than otherwise.
He was just then overhearing, from a group who
were not far from him, that which sent a shock of sadness through his heart.
"H Eorace," said one, "do you know where Dick
Wilson got those fine clothes that he has on this evening? Why, he is as poor as a church-mouise."
"I guess they came from P, in the stage the
other day. I saw a trunk taken out, marked for him,
and if it hadn't been for that impertinent fellow at the
stage-office, I should have known all about it there."
"What did he say?"
" Oh, he said a good deal; he is a great friend of
Wilson. It is generally understood here, that his family is subsisting on charity in P; and I think,
after all, that there is a hoax about this. I think Mr.




206              DICK WILSON.
Watson has furnished these things for him, and you
see, with all their gravity, they are here to-night; and
I suppose they only came to see how their book-keeper would act, and what kind of appearance he would
make in the presence of gentlemen and ladies; but we
will tame him before he gets away. The Judge is up
to these things, and a single swallow of that wine will
set him over."
Not a syllable of that conversation escaped Dick's
ear, and in that group he saw the beautiful belle of
the evening, Miss Lucy S, enjoying, with the appetite of a voluptuary, the perfidious conversation of
those young men; and yet not a muscle of her face
gave evidence of agitation.
Directly, Mrs. Watson passed near him, and a meaning look, all she could do, was rightly interpreted by
Dick, and he was on his guard in a moment.
Just behind Mrs. Watson came Horace Stevens and
the young' belle' before referred to, and after an introduction, she entered into conversation with Dick,
and the exceeding gentility of his manners nearly
threw her off her guard; for it seemed at one time
that she did intend to be merciful, but getting over
this, she said, "I believe, Mr. Wilson, you are from
"That is my native place, Miss S," replied
Dick.
" Well, Mr. Wilson, I do think it is a charming




THE PARTY-SNARE-ESCAPE.          207
place, and I should like very much to live there. I
have-been trying to get Pa to go there to reside, but I
cannot. He is so much attached to his old ways,' that
I cannot persuade him to change them."
" P —  is certainly a beautiful place, Miss S —
and it has many delightful and thrilling revolutionary
incidents connected with it."
" Don't you think, Mr. Wilson, that for my happiness Pa ought to move there?"
" Well, I declare, Miss S —-," said Dick, "I cannot tell; but as a general rule, I think it is safest to
give the judgment of age and experience the preference in everything which is not manifestly wrong. I
have learned, although I am young, that we cannot
truly paint our future history, or tell by what circumstances it may be influenced."
"Pray, Mr. Wilson, have you some experience in
disappointments?"
" I have, Miss," replied Dick, with great tenderness; "this is the only thing in which I am rich 1"
"Indeed!  Then if Mr. Wilson has no objection,
his experience would be a matter of interest to me,
perhaps to the company —please go on, Mr. Wilson."
"It would be very painful to me if I did so," replied Dick.
"Then, Mr. Wilson, you will not be offended if I
guess, will you?"
" Not at all."




208:             DIC  WILSON.
"You have been disappointed?"
"Yes, bitterly."
"Of a tender kind, I suppose?"
"Very tender indeed."
" You are not poor, are you?"
"As much so as I well can be."
"Not an object of charity?"
Dick was silent, while his face glowed with a momentary indignation.
" Come, Mr. Vilson, do not suffer yourself to be
offended."
"I am  not offended," he answered, "and I donot think it will be possible to excite me this evening."
"-Ah! you have come prepared then, Mr. Wil.
son?"
" I have," added Dick, with emphasis. With this
she rose hastily, with a scornful air, and advanced
towards the part of the room in which Judge L —and Horace Stevens, and a few of the same class had
placed themselves, to watch her success.
It was very evident to Dick, who, from his position,.
could observe those plainly towards whom she was
advancing, that already she was telegraphing with her
looks the success, as she fancied, which had attended
the.onset.
What Dick's thoughts were just now, we do not
know; but we know what it would have been natural




THE PARTY —SNArE —-ESCAPE.       209'
enough for him to have said and thought. If he did
not show his feelings, still they were aroused, and
they were almost forced to overleap the enclosure in
which he wished to keep them, until he could get into
his own room.
Dick looked up, and behold she was coming
again, under the escort of Judge L-.  and Horace
Stevens; a force which, except in bulk, was little increased.
" Ir. Wilson," said the Judge, with an exceeding
effort at dignity, "'Miss S.thinks that you are
somewhat out of temper, and she does not like the
manner in which you broke off a conversation which
was interesting to her, and I have volunteered my
services as an umpire in the matter. Mr. Stevens can
argue the case on the side of Miss Lucy, and I will
decide."
" I can't have anything to do with Mr. Stevens,
Judge L -," replied Dick.
" Why not, Mr. Wilson?"
" Because I have the best evidence that he is not a
gentleman."
" That, Mr. Wilson, is a severe charge," said Judge
L-, " to make against one of my guests, one of the
most respectable young men in the place."
" I am prepared at any suitable time to make it
good," replied Dick.
During this brief conversation, Horace Stevens
14




210              DICK WILSON.
showed clearly the evidences of a coward, who had
courage enough to do an act of meanness, when concealed from view; but not the nerve to meet a manly
opponent. tie was silent.
"Judge L —," said Dick, "if I have permitted
myself to be discourteous in your house, without a
sufficient reason for doing so, I am willing to make
every reasonable apology."
"That is fair," said a gruff voice, which none of the
parties could distinguish.
"Ah, Mr. Wilson," rejoined the Judge, " you say
reasonable, and that is a very ambiguous term; for it
means almost anything which one may choose to make
of it."
6" I used it, Judge," replied Dick,'in the sense in
which it is understood by honorable persons. I am
no trickster."
"And I am no trickster, Mr. Wilson. Now just
apologize. Mind, it's a lady you are settling with,
and just say that you are sorry for your impadence."
" Apologize! —make myself a fool and a puppet!put myself in a position where I will despise myselfI
I can't do that, and it is vain for you to ask any such
thing of me. Judge L —-, you have given this matter an importance which does not belong to it, in your
own house. Will you now be kind enough to state
this matter clearly. I do not feel willing that a single




THE PARTY-SNARE-ESCAPE.           211
person should leave this house, under the impression
that my conduct has been unbecoming. I know what
becomes a gentleman, here and elsewhere."
"Not so loud, Mr. Wilson, we do not wish to be
overheard."
"Judge L, this matter is no secret in your
house, it was understood before I came here, and it
was nearly the first thing I heard on entering."'
" YoLu are mistaken."
" I am not mistaken, sir."
" Did Sanco say anything to you, Mr. WV ilson, when
he handed you the note," inquired Miss Lucy.
" Nothing more than was necessary in discharging
his errand faithfully."
"Did you ask him  any questions?" said Horace
Stevens.
"Judge L," replied Dick, casting a look of
contempt into the eye of Stevens, " if you will ask
that question I will answer it."
Will you answer me, Mr. Wilson," said Miss Lucy.
" Certainly, Miss, I will with pleasure."
"Did you quiz Sanco in reference to that note?"
"I did not," said Dick indignantly.
"Well, Mr. Wilson," said Judge LJ, "Miss Lucy
has said that you treated her cavalierly."
"Of that she must retain the liberty of forming her
own opinion," said Dick.'Come, Mr. Wilson, just say that you are sorry,




212              DICK WILSON.
and then you and Mr. Stevens may right your matter
as you will."
"I aim not sorry, sir, and as for that fellow, I can
settle with him whenever he may desire to do so."
Here the matter ended for the moment, as the company were invited to the refreshment room.




CHAPTER XII.
THE TEMPTER FOILED.
CThen by a mother's sacred tear,
By all that memory should revere,
Though boon companions you may be,
Ah! comrades, fill no glass for me!"
AGAIN Judge L   - approached,- Dick and said,
a Mr. Wilson, just say that you are sorry for what
you have said, and this will right the whole matter,
and it will be dropped at once."
"Well, Judge," replied Dick, "when I am sorry I
will so express myself. At present I cannot belie my
own feelings."
" Ah! yes," said the Judge, "it's all nonsense any
how; but you are a tough stick-just like your preceptor; but then, Mr. Wilson, you ain't too old to
bend yet. Will you walk with us to the other end of
the parlor?"
"Certainly, Judge," -replied Dick, with true courtesy.
Here the trio, of which Horace Stevens was one,
held their way across the parlor like a triumphal cav-,alcade, with their fancied captive behind them.  Mrs.




214              DICK WILSON.
Watson, who was on this occasion one of Dick's advanced guards, understood the whole matter, and knew
precisely what was going on; and she knew too that
her presernce was not wanted there. It made no difference however; she knew their plan, and meant to
subvert it.
At length the company halted in front of an oldfashioned, stinted-looking side board, which was ornamented according to no style, ancient or modern;
but according to the peculiar taste of the man who
gave George Handy a suit of clothes, and then presided at the rum meeting 
- Arranged on the side board in a convenient position were a few quart bottles, which were naturally as
green as a cucumber-bed, with one elegant decanter,
which had been presented to the Judge by a member
of Congress. The company were standing with their
backs to the side-board when the Judge, with an as-.
sumed military air, stepped before them and said"Ladies and gentlemen, there has been quite an unpleasant debate between Mr. Wilson and Miss So,
and I have been laboring to bring about a settlement;
but I am sorry to say that I find Mr. Wilson to be
really stubborn, for he will make'no concessions."
"What is the charge?" exclaimed several of those
who knew just as well as the Judge, what was going
on.
"Miss Iuoy says," replied the Judge, "thatMr.




THE TEMPTER FOILED.           215
Wilson has treated her cavalierly," and then drawing
himself up with a good deal of dignity, he said,
"What shall be the penalty?"
" That will depend upon the nature of the offence,"
said a gruff voice, which came from another part of
the room. This was Dick's preceptor, and he had
been sitting in the same position all the evening, ap.
parently much interested with the pages of an old
book, over which he seemed to be poring; and as the
Judge repeated the question again, he called out,
" Explain, explain, if you please, Judge; I can't vote
on this case until it is fairly defined;" and he gave
himself again to the book.
"Squire B ——, there is nothing serious about this
matter-it's all a joke, I assure you," said the Judge.
"Then," said Squire B —, raising his eyes and
throwing a glance at Judge L.-, the meaning of
which he understood; " you ought not to make of it
a serious matter."'Oh! Squire," replied the Judge, "it's really nothing but a joke."
"I am not sure of that," continued Squire B-,
" and if you did not design treating Mr. Wilson as a
gentleman, you ought not to have asked him to your
house."
" Don't you believe me, sir?" inquired the Judge, as
if such a thing would be strange to him.
" I do sometimes, sir," replied Squire B —-  "but I




216              DICK WILSON.
am under no obligations to believe what is not sustained by evidence."
All this time Dick stood there mute and motionless
as a statue. His forehead was pale, his cheeks were
slightly crimsoned, and his lips were rigidly compressed, as if he was striving to smother the indignation which was burning in his heart. He remembered
the rum-meeting, at which he had refused to disgrace
himself by becoming its advocate; and he was looking for the vengeance of him whom he had thus mortally offended. But, in the face of this, he stood the
picture of earthly nobleness, looking scorn and defiance at Judge L
After the Judge had recovered from the entanglements into which Dick's preceptor had thrown him,
he called out again, "What shall be the penalty?"
and was instantly replied to by one of the board, "A
glass of wine with Miss Lucy."
At this moment, by what was doubtless a pre-concerted arrangement, two young ladies and two young
gentlmen —they were called so by a portion of the community-presented themselves before the company
with a supply of cake and wine.
"'By my word," said the Judge, looking meaningly
at Horace Stevens, " that is precisely what we wanted,
and yet this way of settling a difficulty did not occur
to me at all."
"That is remarkable," said Squire Be. —.




TIHE TEMPTER FOILED.           217
" What is remarkable, sir?" said the Judge, impa.
tiently.
"No consequence at all," said Squire B. —.
"This is it, precisely, Mr. Wilson," said the Judge,
taking a tumbler in his hand and holding it before
Dick, and then adding, "' now oblige me, Mr. Wilson,
by drinking to the health and happiness of Miss
Lucy."
"I have no objection, Judge," said Dick, "' to make
friends if we are enemies, in a rational manner; but
as to drinking friends, I will not do it-I will not run
any risks. I have been sufficiently warned in and
out of your house."
"You do not think, Mr. Wilson, that I have drugged it?"
" I don't know as to that, Judge, but I do know that
to render it poisonous drugging is unnecessary."
"Well," said the Judge, "IMiss Lucy, you must settie this difficulty yourself."
" It can't be settled by you, Judge, in this or any
other way-."
The tumblers were given to Miss Lucy, and turning
to Dick, she said-" Mr. Wilson, I am sorry that without the least provocation you have permitted your
temper to become ruffled this evening; and by doing so, you have cast an unpleasant gloom over all
the company.  Now, Mr. Wilson, take this glass,
and let us drink to each other's future happiness, and
J




218               DICK WILSON.
then it will go merrily around, and all will be smooth
again."
"I hope, Miss," replied Dick, in a very gentlemanly,
yet very firm manner, " that if the pleasure of the
company has been for one moment interrupted, that
you will not insinuate that I am in the least degree
accountable for it, I will drink no wine this night,
and I beseech you to desist from further offers of this
kind."
"Are you a temperance man?" inquired Miss Lucy.
"Yes, I am," said Dick,' both from principle and
necessity."
"W ~ell, so far aos principle is concerned, I guess we
are all about in the same fix; but we don't know anything about necessity."
"You may know something about it," said Dick.
"Oh!" continued she, "a great many things may
be. I suppose Parson Smith is trying to work you
into a teetotaler. Have you any other objections beside your necessity and Parson Smith?"'"Yes, Miss," said Dick, "I have a poor mother;"
and then, for the first time, the tears came to his eyes.
"Any other reason, Mfr. Wilson?"
"I have a dear sister, bea-utiful in heart and fborm,
who would tremble if she were here now; and I have
a little brother; and these, in my heart, have a richness which the wine-cup would dissipate; for so it
was with my father."




THE TEMPTER FOILED.            219
"Wh t; more?" said Miss S,-.
" They are poor; and I am their dependence-their
hope-the object of their daily prayers-and the only
one to whom. they can look for protection; and I
must not, will not be tempted, while I am in my right
mind.;'" He then returned to his seat.
To all appearance the party went on pleasantly;
but every one who knew Judge IL- saw disappointment in his countenance; and the general opinion of
those who could only conjecture, was, that this gathering was got up with the view of entrapping Dick, to
reward him for his refusal to take part in the rummeeting.
"'Mr. Wilson," said a gentleman, by the side of
whom Dick had seated himself,' you managed to run
the gauntlet pretty well."
"It was very difficult for me to do so," said Dick,
and then continued —" If it had been Judge L —alone, I could have got along finely; but to thrust a
young lady into the work, was very mean in him;
but then I fancy their profits are small this time."
"You can't tell, Mr. WVilson, what the profits are.
Judge L —  is a strange man, and no one can tell
where he makes or loses. He is one of those men
who can forget a kindness very soon, but who never
forgets an insult."
" Do you think I insulted him?" said Dick.
"He will so interpret it. He defines everything by




220              DICK WILSON.
his feelings, and nothing by his judgment; and he can
carry the appearance of friendship, until the very
moment when he is ready for vengeance. It would
have been better for you, my young friend, to have
tasted that wine; for it would have made your situation much safer, inasmuch as you would not have incurred his hate."
"I think that was secured before this evening,"
said Dick.
"Mr. Wilson, I am far from being in favor of intemperance-indeed, I am an out-and-out temperance
man from principle; but in this case, I really think
that a few drops-not enough to hurt a child-while
it would have done you no harm, would at all events
have secured you the sympathy of most of the company; and for the present it would have appeased
Judge L    -."
"Your philosophy," said Dick, "will only hold
good as a trap; for the theory of drops, if you will
observe, is the silent yet potent cause of much mis
chief. You have seen accounts of those sliding glaciers, and dashing snow slides of the Alps and Pyrenees, with the havoc they have made, as they leaped
from crag to crag, overtaking the swift-footed chamois
in their descending fury. There was a time, sir, when
that mighty avalanche was but a snow flake; yet the
aggregation of these is found sufficient to overwhelm
with ruin, the pleasant valley which lay beneath them.




TlHE TEMPTEIR FOILED.         221
Mark the path along which the avalanche has gone,
and it will occur to you in a moment, that there was
a time when it was fair and beautiful-when it was rejoicing in the peaceful possession of whatever God
had given to adorn its being. It is not so now, and
why? A single drop fell upon that rocky bosom, and
was frozen into ice. It remained.  Another and
another came, and remained; and then the gently
rippling stream-and all the while the frost was fixing
them to its bosom. At length the deep foundations
of the rock gave way, and precipitated a tempest of
ruin into the valley beneath-a melancholy emblem
of the desolation wrought by intemperance. I am
very well satisfied that the avalanche, which by the
succession of drops is formed in nature, is a very faint
type of the desolating character of the avalanche which
the single drop you recommended may form; and
which in its falling-for that is almost inevitablewill necessarily tear and drag out every root, flower
and twig which may be there-yes, everything with
which God has adorned and dignified intelligent
beings-and in its course it will desolate the last green
spot which misfortune still cherishes. I think, sir,
your philosophy of drops only leads to quarts and
gallons-to the open door of infamy, disgrace and
ruin."
"' Oh yes, Mr. Wilson, I understand you; but my
philosophy is, that men ought to govern themselves.




222              DICK WILSON.
They ought not to permit themselves to get beyond
proper bounds in any indulgence   I am a temperance
man from principle, and not from slavery. I believe
in men taking things when they need them, and letting tliem alone when they do not need them."
"Every one cannot do this," replied Dick, "and
those who are not absolutely certain that they have
strength of resolution to do so, had better resist it entirely.  The celebrated Dr. Rush, of Philadelphia,
would not even administer it as medicine-not because
it might not be instrumental in removing some diseases; but from the fear that it might implant a deeper and more deadly one; and he gave as a reason for
doing so, that he did not want a single one, in the day
of God's judgment, to rise u'p and charge him with
having made him a drunkard! And now let me ask
you, sir, will they stand in that same audience who do
not administer it as medicine, but for gain to themselves-those who never cure, but always kill! The
professional rumseller! what will he do there, as he
rises in the midst of the ruin he has made upon the
earth?"
4" Oh, yes; I see now, Mr. Wilson. It's very plain.
I might have seen it sooner-that you have got the
same absurd notions into your head, which are absolutely crazing some people. Mr. S. our minister, is
getting the very same notions, and I am sorry for you
both, for it will prevent your success here."




THE TEMPTER FOILED.              223
"These notions,":replied  Dick, " did not craze
George Handy; and it would be a fine thing for the
community if Mr. Smith, the rumseller, could get the
same notions.e)
"W ell, Mr. Wilson, if Parson S. don't keep quiet,
he can't stay here long-he is the people's servant."
" But not the rumseller's," said Dick, and then continued-" What objection have you to Air. S.?"
"He don't preach the gospel, sir."
"Your understanding of the gospel and his may be
very different. Mr. S. is a fine scholar, and makes it
his study; and it is fairly to be presumed that he understands it"'
"You are mistaken, Mr. Wilson.  I guess I know
what is gospel just as well as Parson S., and I have
just sent for a commentary, that will give Ine light on
the Bible.."
"' What work is that, sir?"' It's called Ccesar's Commentary, and I suppose it's
a first rate exposition of what gospel is!"
"'I apprehend," said Dick, smiling at the man's unusual intelligence, I' that you will not find much gospel
there."
" Have you read it, IMvr. Wilson?"
"Yes, sir."
"Of what subjects does he treat most particulariy? "'
"Of his wars, the countries through which he passed, the difficulties he encountered, and his victories,




224               DICK WILSON.
as -well as many things about the ancient Roman commonwealth."
"Has he no gospel in his book?"
"' Not a bit, sir, that I could see."
"Wasn't he an old Roman Catholic Father?"'"No, sir, he was an old Roman General, and not
so very old either-I should think not so old as yourself."
"Good Lord I Mr. WVilson, if you don't astonish
me. Some one told me a very different thing; but
then Mr. S   - don't preach the gospel, any how, for
he is eternally at the rumsellers.. Why, Mr. Wilson, I
heard him say myself, from the pulpit, that sooner
than see his daughter the wife of a drunkard, he would
rejoice to see her in the coffin 1 Did you ever hear
such a wicked expression?"7
LII am not able to see anything so horrid in that,"
replied Dick7, " for I suppose he only meant that he
would rather see his daughter breathe her last in his
presence, and amidst the associations of his own home,
than to have her a drunkard's wife, at the mercy of
the rumsellers, as poor Handy's was, and then die at
last at their hands, as his did, leaving a child to attract the finger of scorn. I have a sister, and rather
than see her situated thus, I should prefer to bear her
to the tomb."'
This gentleman, whose intelligence has been seen,
had been put in nomination by the rumsellers of




T.HE TEMPTER FOILED.           225
B —- and their friends, for the legislature; and, unfortunately for the cause of temperance and good society, he had been elected. He was regarded by many
as being the counterpart of the Irishman's cow-bell" a long-tongued, empty-headed thing,"-and withal, he
fancied himself fit for greater honors than this. In
fact, he was just the kind of man who could serve the
rumsellers with fidelity.
Mr. WVatson, who was overhearing all this conversation, and admiring Dick's firmness, at last said to
this gentleman, —. " Mr. Anderson, if a law prohibiting the sale of intoxicating drink should come before the legislature,
which way would you throw your influence?"
Mr. A. looked very much as if he was trying to satisfy his own mind as to which side would pay the best
price, or give the surest promises of a re-election, and
then said, —" That would depend entirely upon circumstances."
"What circumstances?" said Mr. Watson.
"Well, sir, the shape and the party which brought
it up. If it came up in a way that would stop the
business entirely, I would vote against it. I think I
should-I don't know. And if it was brought up by
the opposite party in politics, why then I am sure I
would."
"If you brought it up yourself, how would you
vote then?"
J*           15




226              DICK WILSON.
"There is no danger of that, sir; I'll never start
such an unpopular thing as that."
" Suppose, Mr. Anderson, your constituents should
unequivocally express it as being the wish of a majority of them, that you should do so, what would you
do then?"
"I don't know what I should do," he replied.
Mr. Watson could get nothing out of Mr. Anderson
except, I don't know, it depends on circumstances, &c.,
and gave him over again to Dick.
"' I am told, Mr. Wilson," said Mr. Anderson, "that
you think of opening an office in this place, after your
admission. Now, let me give you some advice which
may be for your good, as young men don't always
know what is best for them. I would advise you,
when you are called on again, as you were by Judge
L — and Mr. Stevens, to deliver an address-to do
so. You will lose nothing by it; and if you were to
make a speech in favor of rumsellers, that would not
compel yoU to drink their rum. At such a time as
this, Mr. Wilson, you ought not to refuse the civilities
of the house; but you ought to eat and drink such
things as are set before you, asking no questions for
politeness' sake. Now that is gospel. Just see, if you
had tasted that wine to-night, how pleasantly everything would have gone off. When a friend meets you
in the street, and asks you to walk into a hotel and
take something, why, do so I it won't hurt you, and it




THE TEMPTER FOILED.           227
will greatly increase your popularity, and, by-the-bye,
what's best of all, it will increase your chances in political life. Ah! Mr. Wilson, you are not through
yet. There comes the Judge and Horace Stevens."
Dick turned his head and saw them by his side.' "Mr. Wilson," said Judge L —-, "we have called
to give you another opportunity to make an apology
to Miss S, before the company quits the house."
Dick was silent.
" Yes, Mr. Wilson, you must apologize or —"
" Or what?'
" I will consider you as intentionally insulting -mySelf and guests."
"Judge L —, let me tell you now, that I did not intend to insult either yourself or your guests; and with
this explanation, you are at liberty to draw such conclusions as you may choose. I have not been sleeping
since I came here, neither have my ears been closed;
and I now tell yourself and Horace Stevens, that your
low trickery-your stealthy whispers, and your drugged wine-cups, have all been understood. I was hardly seated, before it was evident to me that I had been
brought here to be insulted, and only because I refused td occupy a position at your rum-mneeting,
which, as Squire B —- said in your hearing, would
have made me falsify my own convictions, and play
the hypocrite. I have heard Horace Stevens and this
same Miss S —--  speculating on my poverty in your




228              DICK wILsoN.
hearing, and with your approbation; and now let me
tell you, that I believe this whole matter has been
planned by yourself. A man in your position ought
to be ashamed to be so wedded to the rum interest as
you are,-you ought to have more forbearance than
merely for the sake of gratifying them, to wreak your
vengeance on one who has already been so deeply afflicted by it. I am poor, Judge Lo, but I have
never asked a favor of you yet. I came to your village to do what your friends prevented me from doing
under more favorable circumstances. I am poor,yes, as it has been said in your house to-night —' a
book-keeper.' I am willing to do anything that is honorable for the sake of those whom I love. But, Judge
L —-, if I am poor, you cannot shake me. I despise
your meanness, and now I leave your house to enter
it no more.o
Dick walked quietly out of the room in which the
unjust judge would have offered him up freely as a
victim, although helplessness was clinging to him for
protection.
What boots it to the rumsellers and their votaries
who falls? What do they care whose heart is broken?
What value do they set upon tears which are scalding
the cheeks of the widow and her orphans? Ah! yes,
and what do they care for the partial restraints which
the law now imposes upon their business? For these
things to them are nothing; and partial legislation has




THE TEMPTER FOILED.             229
proved itself to be what the pruning hook is to the
hedge —it gives it room to expand and to flouzrish / Let
the axe be laid at the root of the tree, and then they will
unbosoin their instruments of death, and give up their
power to afflict mankind I




CHIAPTER XlII.
THE MAINE LAW.-LEGISLATIVE JUGGLING.
"Is this, 0 life, is this thy boasted prime?
And does thy spring no happier prospect yield?
Why gilds the vernal sun thy gaudy clime,
When nipping mildews waste the flowery field?"
ON a bright afternoon in the winter of 185-, a
company of gentlemen were seen emerging from  a
carriage, at the door of one of the first hotels in the
capital at  -. In almost any other place than in
the capital of one of the largest and most influential
states of the Union, their appearance would have attracted a large share of the popular curiosity; and
even as it was, they did not entirely escape notice.
So far as the appearance was concerned, it pointed
them out as being men of wealth; and this of course
procured for them the extra civilities and accommodations of the house.
In the parlor of this house, and before a cheerful
fire, these gentlemen seemed to be enjoying themselves. After some private conversation with each
other, in which each seemed to be deeply interested,
one of them rose and left the room, and almost imme.




THE MAINE LAW.              231
diately returned, carrying in his hand a list of the
members of the Legislature.
" Ah! " said one, "give us you yet for an emergency. Henderson, we can't fail when you lead."
" Money will do anything," replied Mr. Henderson.
" Well," said another, " if money will do anything,
we can accomplish our object here very soon. We
have, you know, the privilege from those who sent
us here to try its virtue to any extent."
" It is true," said Mr. Henderson, " that those who
sent us here have given us the privilege of using their
money freely. Necessity has made them remarkably
generous just now; but still, for our own interests,
we must move cautiously. We must not forget, gentlemen, that there are some who are always looking
for emergencies in the affairs of others, that they may
turn them to their own advantage. We must keep
cool, and so far as possible, we must keep our anxiety
to ourselves."
In this company there was one whose appearance
contrasted strangely with his companions. They were
men in the prime and vigor of life; but he was a man
of seventy years, and of venerable appearance. But
if he contrasted strangely with his companions, his appearance and his years did more so with his mission.
" It will be important for us," said the old gentleman, " to meet the members privately at their rooms,
that no suspicion of our business may be excited. I




232              DICK WILSON.
have had much experience in legislative lobbying,
and have always found this to be decidedly the best
course. We must meet each night to compare notes
of the day's success, and to prepare our future plans.
This meeting must be held at a late hour, for most of
our work is to be done after the adjournment of the
tHouse. We can then have the undivided attention
of those whose influence we hope to secure; and the
members at this time are also much more approachable,
being mellowed by the influences which we know full
well how to employ. We must be more circumspect
than were our friends at their late meeting in New
York. In their excitement they committed many
egregious blunders-blunders, the effect of which it
will cost us much labor to repair."' I am very sorry," said Mr. Henderson, "that we
were foolish enough to sanction the proceedings of
that ridiculous meeting, whose representatives in fact
+we are."
" To what item in the proceedings do you refer particularly?" said one.
"Proscribing the leading journal in the city. That,
you may rely upon it, was a short-sighted piece of
business, and it did us more harm at home, and it
will do us more harm all over the State, than anything that we did there. This foolish, ill-advised act
has given the editor a double power to operate against
us; and you are aware that we can get no counter



TzE MAINE LAW.               233
balancing editorial aid. I am heartily sorry that we
sanctioned any such proceeding as that."
"Yes," was the general rejoinder, "that was a great
mistake; but after all, in such a promiscuous gathering, it is well that nothing worse was done."
"You may well say promiscuous," said Mr. HIenderson, "for such a gathering I never saw before; and
it would be an important matter that would lead me
into such a bedlam again. Really, gentlemen, there
are features in our mission which are not over and
above creditable-; but we must hide them if we ca.m"
"Come, come," saict the old man, "we must not
spend our time in this way —let us sit up to the table
and examine this list, that we may know at once
where and with whom our business is to be transacted."
One of them took the diagram of the seats of members and commenced a careful examination, and occasionally marking a name with his pencil. When
he reached the end he looked up with an air of satisfaction and said, " I think I have the matter arranged
now, in a manner that will point out to us at once in
what quarter our business lies."
"Let me see the list," said Henderson; and then
after a moment's examination he said, with apparent
dissatisfaction, " This won't do at all."
"Why not?" said the gentleman who had pointed out, as he thought, so distinctly the whole course.




234               DICK WILSON.
"Because," said he, "you have the names of persons here whom  we could neither flatter nor bribe
into our service."
"Let me look at it," said the old gentleman; and
after eyeing it closely for some time, he continued:
" This will never do. There are names here that we
can't get. We might as well try to enlist in our favor
Neal Dow, or White, or Snow, or any of that class. It
will not do for us, gentlemen, to make a single mistake
in this matter; and as we are strangers here, if we are
not exceedingly careful, we will be very apt to disclose our plans to some who are our enemies, and be
quite certain of defeat."
At this juncture there was some beating about and
changing of plans, and it was finally thought best, in
order to understand fully the complexion of the Legislature, to hold an evening's consultation with a'member, whom they well knew to be favorable to their
plans.
They accordingly met him in the evening, and were
pleased to find him a man of imposing personal appearance, surrounded with the evidence of ease and
extravagance, and withal an air of calmness, which
made their approach comparatively easy. They at
once introduced themselves as the agents of the liquor
interests in their great city.
"'Ahl yes," replied the legislator, "I believe I
have had some correspondence'with some gentlemen




THE MAINE LANW.              235
of your city on this subject; and to be candid with
you, gentlemen, I am afraid there is little hope for the
rum traffic. My opinion is, that before the adjournment of the present Legislature, this whole matter will
go by the board. I don't believe that anything can
save it; and those who value their reputation more
than their money, must keep their hands out of it, or
they also will go overboard."
"What grounds have you for thinking so?" said
the old gentleman.
"I will tell you, sir," was the reply, " and then you
will be able to decide for yourself whether I am correct or not in my opinion. You are probably aware
that you have not at this moment, nor can you enlist into your service any respectable public journal.
They are all on the other side, or neutral, and represent
not only the wishes but the will of the people, which
is manifestly against you and the whole liquor traffic,
and in favor of its being made, by stringent legislation,
a pendl offence. There are at this moment petitions to
this effect in the Capitol, containing nearly four hundred thousand names; and they present a most striking fact, which is this: these petitions represent the
orderly and respectable portion of the community;
and these evident demonstrations of the people's will
in the matter cannot be lightly considered or turned
aside. Now, as to their right to make known their
will in this wasy, there can be no question, nor as to the




236              DICK wILSON.
great force of their arguments. There are about
twenty-five thousand drunkards in this State alone,
who, in connection with the business in its wholesale
and retail character, costs the State annually millions
upon millions of money-a fact we cannot gainsay;
and when dollars and cents are swollen into immense
amounts, that is an argument which the people can
understand; and if we add to this the poverty and
suffering, the vice and crime which the friends of temperance represent as flowing from the rum traffic, you
can readily see what we have to contend against. I
don't know what may be the popular feeling of your
city in reference to this matter, but certainly, gentlemen, if you have any friends there, they ought to
speak out-N\ow is the time for them to do so. If
you remain here a few days, you will soon understand
the feeling of the State upon this subject, for the name
of Maine is as familiar and as popular here in these
days, as the name of Tippecanoe was twelve years
since. In fact, everything is cut and squared according to the proportions of the' Maine law.' The practical workings of that law, in the State of Maine, have
so far been highly favorable to temperance. In that
State the expressed will of the people was carried out,
and the traffic in rum was placed upon the statute by
the side of other crimves, and the rumseller by the side
of other criminals. The aggregate expenses of the
State have in a few months decreased in an unexam



THE MAINE LAW.               237
pled ratio, and the decrease in expenditure has not
been the only advantage derived from it. It has been
confidently asserted on the floor of the HIouse, that
everywhere throughout that State it has diminished
greatly the consumption of intoxicating drinks, and
the evils inseparable from that consumption have of
course ceased. You can see the advantage they have
over us in this contest. Millions of money are foolishly expended in this State-our asylums are crowded-our prisons filled to overflowing-and victims for
the scaffold, their number is frightful.
"' The Maine law has produced a different result. It
is conclusively shown to have diminished taxation,
crime, pauperism, and misery, and to have introduced
hope and happiness into thousands of desponding
hearts and desolated homes. If it were not for this
standing demonstration, you might hope to succeed;
but as it is, it lies in your way, and will be there
whichever way you turn."
" Can't we double the cape of Maine," said Mr. Hen.
derson, smiling, " and get'round by some kind of legislative strategy?"
"I should rather attempt," replied the legislator,
"' to double Cape Horn in a skiff. I tell you, gentlemen, it will take steady sailing and a practised helmsman to go through such a sea as this; and I am not
aware of any kind of legislative manoeuvering by
which your interests could possibly be see-Lred. Do




238                D)ICK WILSON.
you know, gentlemen, with any kind of certainty, how
Pennsylvania will decide upon this question?"
"It will be very close," replied AMr. Henderson, —
"one or0 two votes'" either way may decide the matter.
We are in constant communication with Philadelphia,
and are assured that nothing by which they can hope
to influence the Legislature will be left undone. It is,
however, very uncertain."
" That is just what I supposed. The people are
waking up everywhere; and so far as Pennsylvania is
concerned —in view of explenditure, drunkards, crime,
and poverty-she is not a whit behind this State; but
as yet I believe she has not disgraced any spot within
her dominions by the appropriation of it to a mass
runt-meeting!  How does the matter stand with Massachusetts?"
"Massachusetts and Rhode Island," replied the old
gentleman, "are about as good as gone.  The Bostonian rum-manufacturers and dealers do not appear to
manage well; they are too saving of their money; and
I am convinced that the time has now come when nothing but money can save us."
The mention of money only enabled the legislator
to see new difficulties in the case, and he continued"Now, gentlemen, if you are not willing that the
wish of the people should be carried out, by the enact* The passage of the "Maine Law" bill (so called), was defeated
in the Pennsylvania Legislature by two votes.




TrIE MAINE LAW.             239
ment of the' Maine law' in this State, what would you
be willing to give them in its stead?"
"' Oh, good heavens!" said the venerable old man,
" anything but the' Maine law,' for that is the worst;
and anything else will be better."
The old gentleman betrayed, contrary to his wish
and that of Henderson, the great anxiety which they
had upon this subject, and he exclaimed again,"Give them? —we will give them the old, the new,
and all the excise laws linked together! Anything
under the heavens but the' Maine law,' for there is no
getting around that."
"They make a strong plea on this count, gentlemen; for they say, publicly and privately, in and out
of the House, that you have violated every pledge
you ever made; and that, in spite of all they could
do, you have overreached and abused them."
"That is what we still desire to do," said Mr. H.;
and added-" There never has been an excise law
framed yet, by any Legislature, which could not be
evaded; and that accounts for the liberality of my
aged friend, in offering anything else than the' Maine
law.' If the spirit of existing excise laws could be
carried out, they would destroy rumselling; but the
administrators of the law easily evade its provisions,
and here is where all excise laws lose their spirit and
force, and if the thing can rest here, we shall be satisfied. There are many excise boards in this State,




240               DICK WILSON,.
from whom the privilege to traffic in rum can be obtained for a small price. The promise of a vote, or of
influence at a coming election, will sway them. For
a liberal fee, I would show the way to get around any
excise law that any Legislature might make, short of
the' Maine law,' and then, I must confess, that my
skill as a pilot ends."
"Yes, Mr. HI.," replied the legislator, I" you understand the matter; and I have no doubt that more than
one half of the rum sold in the State is sold fraudulently.
"' You are right, sir," continued the legislator, "but
then, in order to secure your success, you would, in
the first place, at your town elections, secure a rum
excise board; and this matter is generally quite easily
accomplished.
"The excise boards in this State have proved utter
ly insufficient.  In many instances the rumselling influence has created them, and then the rumsellers,
high and low, have used them at their pleasure; and
just where rum-drinking was a special curse, there
they permitted it to be poured out freely, and by men
too of abandoned characters.
" Instead, therefore, of any improvements, the advocates of the'Maine law' say that matters are growing worse-that those who are engaged in the traffic
are pushing it on with more recklessness and success
than ever before; and that they have no reason to




THE MAINE LAW.                241
hope that it will ever be better, while the law vests its
control in the hands of those whose governing principle is self-interest. You know, gentlemen, that for
the most part, all the excise laws of this State have
been so tortured in the hands of those to whom their
execution has been entrusted, that they have become
a mere farce-a world-wide burlesque!
I"It is so, also, in States where licenses are granted
by a different process.  Take Pennsylvania, for example: In that State, licenses are granted in open
Court, on an, application to which twelve respectabile
signatures are appended, setting forth the good mo-ral
character of the applicant, his reputation for temper-f
ance and sobriety, together with the absolute necessity
that in a particular location it is necessary for the wellbeing of the community, that rum be sold I
"' One would think that in Pennsylvania the brusness was pretty well guarded, inasmuch as this priJwvilege is vested in the judgment of twelve respectablk
citizens-neighbors of the applicant, who are supposed
to know that what they certify of him is true. Facta,
however, prove that there is no safety even with this
security. They show that even good citizens may be
influenced and warped to such an extent by surrounding circumstances, that they have not the courage to
say that they cannot in any way abet in the traffic I
With all the precaution which hedges about even the
incipient steps of procuring license to sell rum in
K              16




242                DICK WILSON.
Pennsylvania, many unprincipled men-men of depraved moral character, can get twelve citizens to
vouch for them, and the courts seldom take the trouble
to inquire into the matter, and are permitted to establish themselves according to law, to violate it every
-day of their lives 
"In a large, influential, and wealthy district in
Pennsylvania, the people were taken by surprise when
the presiding Judge,* who had just been elected to
the bench, in charging the grand jury, alluded to the
deception practised upon courts by false representations, and announced it as his purpose, when he had
the least suspicion in reference to applicants, to bring
their vouchers into court and see if they would say
the same thing under the solemnity of an oatch.  This
was taking the matter at once by the ears, and is a
noble example which those in like circumstances might
imitate; and they would do themselves no injury by
following the precedent. Courts seem almost entirely
to forget the importance of this matter to the individual
and general interests of the commonwealth.  If a deed
for twenty-five acres of mountain land is brought into
court as evidence in any case, it is closely examined.
The same thing is true in r.eference to a will or a deposition; but an application for a tavern license —the
gTanting of which is, in many cases, the greatest affliction under which a community could suffer-very
*Hon. William B. McCluro of Pittsburgh.




THE MAINE LAW.               243
often when the paper is closed, the court could not
mention two of the appended names, -on the integrity
or veracity of which they have granted the license;
and the same loose administration of the law which
governs the rum traffic here governs it there, and renders it almost a nullity. I must confess, gentlemen,
that the more I look into this subject, the greater the
difficulties become. Arrayed against us are the women
and children, and they are lifting up a voice which
will make itself heard. You might just as well try to
stifle the thunders of Niagara as to hush the plaintive
wail which they are sending up to legislative halls.
It is becoming louder and louder, and soon their
united voices will be against you, and then you might
as well try to stand upon the heavings of an earthquake, as to attempt to oppose their influence. They
no not spend their strength for money or for popularity. It is in one mighty plea for mercy!"
" Ah! yes," said the old man, " but it is a morbid
public sentiment which permits them  to take their
position on this ground, in reference to the'Maine
law.' "
"They are the sufferers," replied the law-maker,
"and ought to be heard. It is equally a duty and
pleasure with them to effect those reforms which the
law~permits, and if there be any work on earth in
which they have a right to take part, it is this, unquestionably."




244               DICR WILSON.
" What is the complexion'of the Legislature on this
question?" inquired Mr. Henderson.
" That I cannot tell, sir; but if they follow the
wishes of their constituents, they are fairly against
you. 7
" Well," said he, addressing his brethren, " we may
as well give it up, and return home in the morning,
for if matters stand in this way, the case is hopeless."
This legislator was a shrewd man, and he understood well that the philosophy of getting a handsome
fee was to represent the difficulties in the case as great
as possible, and he let them go, being assured in his
own mind, that they would call again in the morning.
So far as he had gone on one side, his representations were true to the life, and would have produced
a fine effect if he had possessed the courage to have
shaken off the rumseller's influence and money, and
advanced them independently in his place. But this,
unfortunately for himself and his constituents, he had
not the magnanimity to do.
They met in caucus again that night, and were disappointed.
" Perhaps," said the old gentleman, " we missed our
man after all, but if the case stands as he said, it is
rather dark for us; and he seems to understand himself pretty well."
"Yes, so he does," replied Mr. Henderson, "remarkably well, but no better than I understand him,




THE MAINE LAW.              24b
and I am just as sure of his influence as if I saw it
operating already. We must move very cautiously.
All he will do will be done behind the door; that
man will never come to the light in this matter-mark
that I"
After repeated consultations with this gentleman
and other legislative dignitaries, these commissioners
of the rumsellers returned home, fully assured that the'Maine law' would find all kinds of under-handed obstacles to contend with.
This proved to be true, for a system of patching
upon it embarrassing amendments killed it, and the
wish of the people in the matter was overruled by the
influence of a few princely liquor dealers. The same
thing will be tried again and again, and only the uncompromising vigilance of the people can prevent a
recurrence of the same result. The rumselling influence will do everything to clog the wheels of legislation on this subject-they will leave nothing undone.
They will compass sea and land to keep the privilege
of selling rum; and the only way in which this tide
of perfidy can be arrested, is for the people to see to it,
that those whom they select to frame their laws, shall
be men whose sympathies are on the side of right, and
who in the discharge of the sacred duties of law-makers
shall be governed by the honest convictions of their
judgment, and not by fear of the apprehended frown
of the maker, seller or drinker of rum.




CHAPTER  XIV.
TEE DROVER'S GRAVE.-"- MURDER WILL OUT.o
"C Remember Heaven has an avenging rod,
To smite the poor is treason against God 1"
CTE signal triumph of Dick Wilson at the house of
Judge L.-   over the temptations by which he was
beset, soon became generally known, to the great annoyance of the Judge and those who were associated
with him. Dick's course was generally approved by
the inhabitants of the village, even by those whose
characters were the reverse of his own; for consistency
and firmness in theoright always commands the respect
even of the vile. To some, however, it seemed to be
strange and unnatural that a young man and a lawyer
in prospect should be so unsocial in his habits as thus
to refuse the civilities of a neighbor's house. Others
did not see fit to call the offer of wine by that courts
eous name, and admired the courage which had so
signally resisted the wiles and enticements of that
night. As a consequence of this noble resistance,
every family in the village who prized virtue, valued
peace, cherished love, or feared God, took occasion to




THE DROVER'S GRAVE.            247
speak in his praise, and did not say to their sons or
daughters,  "You had better not associate with Ar.
Wilson until you know more about his character."
One single exhibition of true nobleness, as it gushes
forth freely and warmly from the heart, untrammelled
by artificial laws, will do more to beget the abiding
confidence of other hearts than all the blandishments
of artifice and duplicity which the most practiced may
employ.
Everyone now, with the exception of the rum-sellers and their adherents, were gratified with this exhibition of Dick's character.  Those who had heretofore been indclerent, not knowing but he might turn
out as the majority of young men there had hitherto
done, after they saw him shake the viper into the fire,
instinctively turned to regard him as the nucleus about
which large prospects of future usefulness were gather'
ing, and which promised to do much in wiping reproach from their village and seciuring the interests of
their children from  the poluting social influences
which had too long held sway among them. It was
generally understood that Dick intended locating himr
self in their midst, and that immediately after his admission to the bar, through the persuasion of Mr.
Watson and others, to bring the wreck of his family
there to reside. To many this was cheering intelligence.  They thought he had passed successfully
the most dangerous temptation which was likely




248               DICK WILSON.
to beset him, and they would freely exchange the en
tire rum interest of the village for the mother and
sister and brother of that Spartan youth. To the
plainest question, however, there are usually two sides,
on each of which will be found arrayed those of opposite opinions, interests and tastes. It was so here, with
the exception of Jacobs, who seemed to occupy rather
anomalous ground, being strictly identified neither
with the rum interest nor its opponents. With this
exception, the question of Dick's permanent residence
among them was looked upon by his friends with
hope, and by his enemies with fear and disfavor. His
refusal to speak at their rum meeting, to act as secretary for them, and last of all, to drink at the house of
Judge L ——, had fixed the hate of the latter, and
they lost no opportuity to show it, and the combined
influences of the bar-room  and the gambling-cellar
were resorted to, in order to prejudice his interests.
Persecution has often a sickening effect upon the
heart; yet it is sometimes overbalanced by its salutary consequences. Its effects are much like those of
the crucible; it distinguishes between the false and
the true, pointing out those in whom confidence may
be safely reposed, as well as those who are unworthy
of it.
The man who by long acquaintance has familiarized
himself with the scenes attendant upon the rum traffic
— with.the want, the misery, the suffering, the horror




THE DROVER'S GRAVE.            249
that are daily before him whose daily bread is purchased with widows' sighs and orphans' tears,-such
a man, if not fully prepared for " treason and murder,"
is emphatically ripe for " strategy and spoils." Human
sympathy or respect for the common rights of his
fellows, have no place in his bosom. If men or
measures come in conflict with his vocation, he is
equally unscrupulous of the merit of the one or the
justice of the other. His time, his talents, his means,
and all the arts which ingenuity and depravity can
suggest, are industriously employed to maintain himself and to circumvent those who would rid society
of his pestilent influence.Mr. Stevens, the superannuated rumseller and knight
of the " old stone house," was the ostensible leader of
Dick's enemies, and he was often heard to swear that
he should never locate among them. The threats of
this poor old man, however, who had been worn out
in the service of rum and the crimes which grow out
of it, did not intimidate Dick in the least, but rather
tended to arouse him to new exertion. It was evident
that his hopes were becoming brighter as the time of
his admission to the legal bar drew nearer.
Perhaps you know, reader, the strange power which
the anticipation of future happiness has over the soul
— how it can people the most bleak and desolate path
in life with new and beautiful creatures, which are so
near akin to reality that the heart loves to dwell upon
Kl*r




250              DICE WILSON.
them, and around them its affections linger peacefully.
Such were the feelings with which Mrs. Wilson and
Eliza were awaiting the admission of the son and
brother to the bar, and such were the feelings and the
hopes which he was straining every nerve to meet,
and for the accomplishment of which he had toiled for
many years. Their happiness was the light and life
of his existence-the centre about which all his hopes
clustered. Amongst those who were lovely, to him
they were the loveliest, and every image which his imagination could paint was imperfect without them.
One day, while Dick was standing at the door of
the office, he observed a stranger alighting from a gig
in front of Mr. Jacobs' hotel; and as Sam was about
to drive the horse to the stable, he heard the gentleman say that he should probably remain a few days,
and wished to have good care taken of the horse. lie
was apparently thirty-five years of age, with form and
features finely developed. For several days he was
seen passing through the streets, and was not known to
have spoken to any one but Mr. Jacobs since he entered the village. It was supposed at first that he
was a collecting merchant from Philadelphia, but that
opinion soon passed away, and his business for the
time was unknown. On the third day after his arrival, Mr. Jacobs met Dick in the street, and spoke of
the singularity of his guest, and remarked, at the same
time, that although he appeared to have no business,




THE DROVER'S GRAVE.            2DI
yet his opinion was that he had some very important
business.
"Do you know his name, Mr. Jacobs?" inquired
Dick.
"Yes; his name is Gilmore."
"Where is he from?"
"' From one of the back counties of the State."
" Have you any idea of the nature of his business?"
"' I have, but I canliot name it."
"W hat has brought Stevens and Judge Lo about
here so much for two or three days?"
"I don't know; but it seems to me that gentleman's
presence troubles them. Stevens asked me his name
yesterday, and when I told him it was Gilmore, he
turned as white as a cloth, and I have not seen him
about since. If I am not mistaken, Wilson, this man
will reveal his business to some one before he leaves."
There was nothing in this to excite Dick's curiosity;
for, as yet, he had nothing on which he could base an
interesting conjecture; and he was not so much accustomed to attend to the concerns of others, as many
were by whom he was surrounded.
In the early part of the evening, Mr. Jacobs called
on Dick, informing him that the stranger wished to
see him.
"How does he come to want me?" inquired Dick.
"He stated to me confidentially, Mr. Wilson, that
he had business of importance, which required the




252              DICK WILSON.
assistance of a lawyer, and wished me to recommend
him to the best one in the village, and I referred him
to you."
"I am certainly much obliged to you, Mr. Jacobs,"
replied Dick, " but did you tell him that I was not yet
admitted?"
"I did, Mr. Wilson, and also told him when you
would be admitted."
Dick immediately started, wondering what this unexplained thing could mean. As he entered Mr. Jacobs' bar-room, he observed Stevens amongst others,
and he passed on to the parlor, where he was introduced to the stranger. After a few moments' conversation, in which it plainly appeared that the stranger
was a gentleman, he asked Mr. Wilson to accompany
him to his room, which he did, and when seated, he
said,"Mr. Wilson, do you know the construction of this
house?"
"I do know something about it," said Dick.
"Is there any danger that we will be overheard?"
" I think there is not, sir."
"My business,"' said the gentleman," is very important, and if it were known, all my hopes and plans in
finding my father's grave, would be frustrated."' Did you say finding your father's grave?"
"Y6es, Mr. Wilson, I have reason to suppose that
the remains of my father are in this vicinity. I have




THE DROVER'S GRAVE.             253
been for two weeks in a neighboring village, and I
have learned enough there to assure me that there can
be no doubt about it; but the difficulty will be to find
sufficient evidence to point out the grave and the murderer of my father."
"tHow long is it, sir," said Dick, "since your father
disappeared?"
" About twenty-five years."
"What was his business?"
" He was engaged in driving cattle, sir."' Ah I a drover, a drover?" said Dick, abstractedly.
" Do you know a. man named Stevens, in this village, Mr. Wilson?" said the stranger.
" Yes sir, very well."
"What is his character?"
" Bad enough, sir. I hardly think it could be worse."
" Do you know anything of his having kept a publie house here at one time?"
" I have understood that he did, sir, and I have understood that a drover disappeared from his house
under very suspicious circumstances."
"Yes sir," replied the stranger, "I have no doubt
but he knows very well where my father is sleeping."
"Have you evidence in reference to your father,
that will show clearly that he was really here?"
"Oh yes, sir, that can be substantiated; and also
that he had five thousand dollars in money."
"Well," said Dick, "I have no doubt but Stevens




254              DICK WILSONo
has your father's money; but the difficulty will be to
get at it. He has a few friends here, and they will do
everything in their power to aid in concealment. I
believe that Stevens suspects you now. I know of
no other way in which to account for his strange conduct since your appearance here. I think the best
way to develop the matter, would be to create a little
suspicion; and if you should think this best, it must
be done with great care. I would advise you to go to
Judge L, who is one of Stevens' warmest friends,
and just open the matter to him as you did to me,
and if he knows anything about it-and I should not
be surprised if he did-he will be putting Stevens on
his guard at once, and something, if they are well
watched, may leak out. You must be careful not to
let Judge L~ know that you have said a word to
me on the subject."
The stranger thought that this might be the best
way, and after a good deal of conversation in reference to the plan to be pursued, he stated to Dick, that
he would then pay him one hundred dollars, and in
the event of his success, he would pay him a thousand
beside.
The stranger then asked him if Mr. Jacobs might
be let into the secret with safety, and was informed
that he could, and that he might be of service; and
when the thing was made known to him, he at once
agreed to find a person, who for a few days would




THEE DROVER'S GRAVE.         255
watch every movement that Stevens and Judge Lwould make.
The next morning, as early as it was proper to do
so, the stranger called upon Judge L -, and disclosed his business to him. As might have been expected, he defended Stevens, and assured the stranger
that there were few men who would be so unlikely to
do an act of that kind as he.
" I have been acquainted with him for many years,"
said the Judge, " and I ought to know him very well,
and I think I do. Now, my dear sir, let me tell you,
that if you breathe such a suspicion to any other individual in this community, you will be in danger of
your life. There is a young man here, named Wilson, who is a warm friend of Mr. Stevens, and if it
was known to him that you had any such suspicion,
he would excite a mob against you at once."
He had been sufficiently apprised of the relation existing between Mr. Stevens and Judge L —, and only
replied to him, that he had gone too far already to
stop, adding"I am not much afraid of mobs or decrepid rumsellers; and I have but little confidence in their friends."
Immediately after he left the house, Judge L —was in the street and soon black Felix was seen hovering in his rear. The Judge seemed to understand
his business, and so did Felix; for he also had something important to accomplish. At length the Judge




256               DICK WILSON.
came up with Stevens, and Felix passed them just as
they had designated a place where in an hour after
they had appointed to meet. Smith's tavern was one
of those old dilapidated affairs which had grown with
the times, until twenty additions had been made to it.
In such a place as this, secrets were not very safe, and
especially as every one of the partitions in the house
was abundantly supplied with knot-holes. Felix was
shrewd, and he made his appointment with himself at
the same time, in an adjoining room, which Smith
had used to store away those whom he did not wish
to be seen about his premises. Into this place, half
an hour earlier than the appointment, Felix, without
any difficulty, found his way, and patiently awaited
the arrival of those in whom, just then, he was wonderfully interested.  At length they came, and the
first thing he heard was,-'"Stevens, fill that glass up. You must not take
this matter to heart, you are in no danger. Heavens
on earth! they can't find evidence to convict you now.
Drink and be merry, and let the drover's son go to the
devil."
" Do you think," said Stevens, "that there is any
possible danger of this matter getting out?"
"It can't possibly get out," returned the Judge,
"unless either you or myself reveal it; for no other
living soul knows the facts concerning the drover's
disappearance."




THE DROVER'S GRAVE.            257
"It was a devilish good thing for me," said Stevens,
" that he went to you for advice; but I suspect Wilson knows something about the matter."
"I don't think he does," said the Judge; " I was
apprehensive that he might call on him, and I warned
him against doing so, assuring him that Wilson was
one of your best friends."
As they became warmer over Smith's whiskey, they
talked with less reason, until they had made a full
revelation of the important facts in the case. As they
were about ready to leave, Stevens said,'" I believe Dick Wilson has been consulted in this
matter before you were. I saw Jacobs taking him
into his parlor last night. I wish to the Lord, Judge,
we were rid of that fellow."
"Is there any danger, Stevens, that the grave can
be discovered?'
"Oh no, Judge; I am not afraid of that-the lot
will never, in all probability, be occupied, and there
is a pile of stones resting on it now, which look as if
they had been always there."
"'It will be best, as soon as possible, to find out
whether or not Wilson knows anything of the mat.
ter."
"How am I to do this?'"
Go and call on him at the office."
Will you go with me?"
No; if I did he would suspect us at once; but go




258                DICK WILSON.
yourself; and I will go bail that he will be civil as long
as you are."
After drilking again, these worthies started into
the street, apparently unconscious that they had been
uniravelling a chain of facts, pointing to a grave which
for twenty-five years had been concealed, and pointing out, too, the guilty individual. Felix at once carried the result of his eaves-droppizng to Dick, who comrmunicated it to the stranger. The matter was now
pahin enough, and after arrangements of a private nature, for future proceedings in the matter, the stranger
visited the stone pile, under which, in all probability,
his father's remains were reposing, and left the village.
This was a strange matter to Dick, and he did not
know how to interpret it; but evidently it had placed
his enemies in his power, and this at least was an advantage to one in his situation. His fee, like his heart,
was at once divided between himself and his mother;
and this signal success always made him look forward
with greater earnestness than ever to his admission to
the bar. His intention was, that the case should be
thoroughly sifted, and that the horrid crime should be
brought to light.




CHAPTER XV.
THE GUILTY TREMBLE.-DICK'S PROSPECTS.
6" Whose daring revels shock the sight,
When vice and infamy combine,
When drunkenness and crime unite,
And every sense is steeped in wine."
THE case of Mr. Gilmore, the drover, and the singular revelations which had so recently been made in
reference to it, seemed to excite Dick Wilson intensely.
It was not, however, the hope of bringing speedy vengeance upon the aged criminal; nor yet was he moved
to it by the hope of personal gain.  The stranger had
deeply enlisted his sympathy, and this, in connection
with the yet fresh recollections of his own father, who
had perished at the hands of those who were as guilty
as Stevens, moved him to press forward in an investigation of the matter.  For several days and nights he
had been unusually busy in running over the pages of
musty-looking volumes. After considerable research,
without finding much that was applicable to the case
in hand, an old book, containing many of the reports
of English trials, seemed at last to have gained complete mastery over him.




260               DICK WILSON.
The reader, even under ordinary circumstances, can
find subjects of deep interest in these reviews of legal
lore, for with much native courage and true heroism
of soul, they present also the dark spots in human
character. In the persons of Emmet, and McNevins,
and the Sheerers, the great State prisoners of the rebellion, arraigned at the bar of English authority, they
present a galaxy of noble names, whose melancholy
history, whose premature fall by civil tyranny, will
be cherished and reserved for all time. Then, after
the lapse of years, in the person of Warren Hastings,
is brought vividly before the mind the princely prisoner and the power of those splendid intellects by
whom he was impeached. There, too, we may look
into the English prison, contemplate the griefs of Lord
William Russell, and see him on the eve of his execution, without stain upon his character, parting with his
family, and commending them to God. There, too,
is the exhibition of crime, in all its grades and with
all its aspects of wickedness, clearly and forcibly presented to the mind, revealing the fact that the eye of
God had looked upon the scene, and had kept here
and there an open view in the history of the murderer.
It was this latter class of recorded facts which had
the power to rivet Dick's attention to the page, and
after going through with the record of the one which
had arrested his attention, he said —" This is remark



THE GUILTY TREMBLE.            261
able: here is almost a similar case," and added, as he
commenced pacing the floor-" Both these cases had
their origin in rum, and it seems as if God had in both
cases forced rum to become the revelator of its own
dangerous character and hidden wickedness.  God
only knows how long the heart-broken widow may
have watched for the coming back of her husband;
and when month after month and year after year had
passed slowly and sorrowfully away, with a hope
wrapped up in its own life-feeding sources, she still
looked for his return-the return of one who for
twenty-five years has been sleeping within two hundred yards from where I am now sitting, and who will
never again re-enter that home. The widow is dead,
and now the son, guided by the uncertain and disconnected reports which reached the far-off home, has
come in search of the father's grave; and almost miraculously, by the singular coincidence of rum betraying itself, the facts have been revealed, and his feet
have pressed the soil which for a quarter of a century
has rested upon the cold bosom of his father."
While Dick was musing upon this strange affair, a
person who was not wholly unexpected, entered the
office. It was Mr. Stevens, whose coming, by the report of Felix, the eaves-dropper, was almost certain.
He entered the office with his usual lordly air, and
with his accustomed duplicity inquired for Squire
B-.  Dick, in quite as cool a manner, informed




262               DICK WILSON.
him that he was absent, and had been for several days.
It was evident enough that from some cause or other
he was very uneasy. He was generally pretty well
"' primed," and there were times when brandy couldn't
stagger him.
aI am very sorry, Mr. Wilson," said he, quite courteously, "that Squire B   ---— is not at home-very
sorry indeed. My business is of a pressing nature, and
requires immediate attention."
"Perhaps," replied Dick, " I may be able to attend
to it for you. Squire B~  left his business in my
care until he should return, and if it is business that I
can do, I will attend to it for you."
A' Ah! yes, I dare say you would; but you couldn't
attend to it, Mr. Wilson. It is very important, as well
as strictly confidential.  You couldn't do it."
" Very well," replied Dick, "then it will be best for
you to defer it until he returns, as he gave me no directions about any confidential business."
"When will he be home, Mr. Wilson?"
"To-morrow," replied Dick; "'Land as soon as he
comes, I will inform him of your anxiety."
" Yes," continued Mr. Stevens, "I think it would
be best to wait until he returns. Important matters,
you know, ought always to be intrusted to old heads,
for they are better at keeping secrets, when it is necessary to do so."
"Certainly," replied Dick, "it is right that men of




THE GUILTY TREMBLEo            263
experience should have the preference; but then I
don't know that experience is much assistance in keeping secrets. You are aware of the fact, no doubt, that
ifn some way or other, secrets always get out, and the
more important they are, the surer are they to find a
leak somewhere, and sometimes those whose interests
are most intimately involved cannot keep them."
"That ain't the way with me, Mr. Wilson. I can
keep a secret-I tell you I can."
" That may be, you may be an exception; but the
general law of secrets is, that they have the power of
self-transmission. I have been engaged this morning
in looking over the reports of English law trials, and
particularly those which were of a criminal character,
sand I am convinced that I might have taken a very
strong position, and have said that there were secrets,
the disclosure of which would subject the possessor to
the most severe penalties of the law, and that notwithstanding they would betray themselves.'"
"Now, Mr. Wilson, no man need tell me that I
couldn't keep a secret. When I want to keep a
secret, I tell you that I can do it."'
"Here is the case," said Dick, "and if you will
spend the time to read it, I think you will agree with
The old man took the book into his hand, and then
took off his spectacles, and wiping them with a flourish
of dignity, replaced them. He straightened himself




264               DICK WILSON.
in his chair, threw one leg over another, and resting
his elbow upon his favorite gold-headed cane, commencect the perusal of the singular case.
In the meanwhile Dick had placed himself in a position where he could see the movement of every
muscle in his face.  Presently he saw the nervous
agitation-the relaxing and contracting of the muscles
-the involuntary shudder. His cane fell to the floor,
his look of dignity disappeared, and his whole countenance was the aspect of guilt, without a single thing
expressive of remorse. At length he finished, and
laying down the book, he addressed Dick:
" This must have been a hardened villain, but then
you know they have very bad men in England. I
have never been there, but I have always heard this,
and from this account I should think it was true.
Have you ever heard of a case of this kind, Mr. Wilson?"
"'I have heard of a great many instances, Mr.
Stevens, where murderers to all appearance had succeeded in covering up their tracks; but I must confess that I have never heard of but one case, for which
this in all its leading features, as well as in most of its
particulars, seems to be a parallel."
"Was that in England?"
"Oh no, sir; it was in this country-purely an
American tragedy."
"Indeed! do you say so?  I didn't think there




THE GUILTY TREMBLE.            265
were such bad men in America. In what State
was it?"
" In the State in which we are residing, sir."
" Was the man who committed the murder a tavern
keeper?"
"Yes sir, he was at the time he committed the
crime, and I believe he continued for several years
after to sell rum."
"6 Was the man whom he murdered a drover?"
" Yes sir, he was, and I believe he came from one
of the back counties of this State."
W' Well, of course, Mr. Wilson, he has been executed,
hasn't he?"
"'Not yet, sir; the matter has never been made
public, and there are circumstances in the way of the
prosecution of the case just now."
"' Ah!  Mr. Wilson, I suppose the evidence is wantinq."
"' No sir; there is no lack of evidence."
" How many witnesses are there?"
"L Only one that could be relied on."
"1 How did the thing get out?"
The walls communicated it."
"     Well, Mr. Wilson, but the walls couldn't tell it.'Mr. Stevens," said Dick, while he looked into the
eyes of the guilty man, " I will tell you how it was
made known: the principal and the witness were closeted together to confer upon the plan by which detection
L




266              DICK WILSON.
might be avoided, and also to consult on the ruin of
another, and while they were there making merry over
the whiskey which was furnished for the occasion,
they betrayed themselves."
"' You say, Mr. Wilson, they were planning the ruin
of another."
"Yes sir, they were trying to drive a young man
to drinking as the surest way to effect his ruin."
W' Vhen did this happen?"
"I am not at liberty to tell you, but the time may
come when all restriction shall be taken away, and
then I will consider it my duty to tell you.'
"Well, thank God," said Mr. Stevens, "I never
murdered any person. I used to keep a tavern here
at one time, and therere were some good-for-nothing
fellows who were always in the habit of lying about
my house, drinking, and who died there at last-two
or -three I think in my bar-room; but nobody would
think of calling that murder-they wouldn't in these
days, anyhow."
"They ought to have called it by its right name,"
said Dick, promptly, "' for certainly, Mr. Stevens, those
who kill with rum, for a price, are just as guilty as
those who use a less painful mode, and they should be
made just as amenable to law. I have no doubt the
time will come, in the progress of civilization, when
the man who kills outright, and he who slowly kills
by rum, will expiate their guilt together."




THE GUILTY TREMBLE.             267
"Good Heavens!" exclaimed Mr. Stevens, affecting
great surprise;'" young man, you make a wide sweep."' No wider," replied Dick, " than the principles of
justice make; and this is, or ought to be, the foundation of all law."
"But don't you see," said Mr. Stevens, with a good
deal of vehemence, " that you involve a very large
class of persons, many of whom are wealthy and respectable."
M' Mr. Stevens, I have nothing to do with involving
them-they involve themselves. They do it intelligently and deliberately, in the face of the multiplied
evidence of its criminality, and they carry on their
work when they know certainly that they are accomplishing the ruin of those with whom they are bartering. Wealth ought not to be permitted to rise superior to law, and no business ought to be tolerated in a
civilized community, the effect of which is an unmitigated curse."
" Didn't you say, Mr. Wilson, that nothing was yet
known, except by very few, of the case you mentioned?"
" Perhaps I did, sir; but I ought to have said, that
suspicion had always rested on the individual; but
that until very recently no sufficient evidence could
be reached."
" There is such a witness now-are you sure of
this?"




268              DICE WILSON.' Oh yes, sir; I have it from his own mouth."
"Do you think an individual ought to be punished
for a crime committed twenty-five years since?"
"Certainly I do, Mr. Stevens. It is said that it is
never too late to repent, and of course it is never too
late to afford to such individuals an opportunity to do
what, under other circumstances, they would probably never do. It appears to me that one example of
this kind would have a better effect upon the public
mind than a great many examples of a different character."
"Have you seen Judge L —- lately, Mr. Wilson?"
"I have not. I have no confidence in him, and I
shun him rather than seek his presence. He is the
only man of whom I ever felt any real dread."
I think he is your friend, and you could very easily make him a warm friend."'"Mr. Stevens, you.know better than that. You
know that I could not have a more bitter enemy.
You know that it would be a matter of delight to him
if he could ruin me. I hope you will not attempt to
deceive me in this manner."
"I understand you intend stopping here to commence the law."
"That is my intention, sir; and I am now making
arrangements with that view."' I dare say you will find it very pleasant when your
family come here to reside."




THE GUILTY TREMBLE.            269
"I hope to find it so, sir, and I am looking forward
to that event with a great deal of pleasure."
After muttering some apology for intrusion upon
time, &c., the old man left the office; but Dick was
assured from his uneasy manner that he would be
back again before long.
He had come, according to arrangement with Judge
L-, in Smith's back-room, to sound Dick, in order
that he might ascertain whether or not lAr. Gilmore's
business had been made known to him. This he had
not been able to determine; but the singularity of the
coincidence, and the particulars of the case to which
Dick had cited him, were so much like the one in
which he was the chief actor, that guilt was plainly
visible both in his countenance and actions.
He intimated his own friendship, and proclaimed
that of Judge L —- for this young man, when it was
known to all, that they were seeking his destruction,
and the only reason for it was, that at their command
he had refused to destroy himself. Dick, after some
reflection, resolved that if he came back again, he
would at once free his mind from any doubt on the
subject, by confronting the criminal with the evidence
of his guilt. He said to himself-" There can be no
harm in doing so. Felix is trusty, and Stevens is
just what his countenance betokens-a human fiend.
He has lived and wallowed in the filth of drunkardmalzing, until humanity has departed from his consti



270               DICK WILSONo
tution. He has committed every sort of crime, inclding the blackest; and this solitary instance of murder, while it is the only one of which the law takes
cognizance, is far from being alone. The one was
against the law, because the weapon was not licensed.
The rest were according to law, because the instrument was legalized for a stipulated price. Amazing
inconsistency!" thought Dick, " that legislation has
been so blind upon this subject, as to privilege one
class where anothor has been proscribed; and especial]y when the latter is infinitely the worst, for there is
hardly a crime that can be mentioned, which does not
come forth as spontaneously from legalized rumselling
as vegetation comes from the earth."
In the village of B — this fact was often demonstrated. The wrecks of many families who had been
happy, were still there, and their children either beggars or thieves.
Dick had been busily engaged in reviewing his
studies, preparatory to examination and admission.
The visit of Mr. Gilmore had to some extent interrupted him; yet after his departure, he seemed to apply himself with greater interest than ever. Mr. Watson, with several other friends, who were acquainted
with his circumstances, and who had urged him to locate there, offered him every facility in their power in
making arrangements for the comfortable removal of
his family. In all the arrangements which were made,




THE G-UILTY TREMBLE.            271
Mr. Watson took a leading part. Without Dick's
knowledge, he had been for some time engaged in
fitting up one of his own houses for the family. It
was a beautiful location-one which Dick had often
seen, and where he imagined that himself and his
dear ones might be happy. He had never said a word
to Mr. Watson about it, yet he had often half made up
his mind that he would do so,
One afternoon Mr. Watson's little boy came into
the office, with a request that Dick should come and
take tea with them that evening, and as the little fellow was leaving, he said:
"' Mr. Wilson, what shall I tell mother?"
I Tell her I will be there, Charley," was the reply.
In a very short fime Mr. Stevens returned, and in
a more abstracted manner than in the morning, repeated the.same question, inquiring for Squire B~o.
Dick informed him, as in the morning, that he was not
at home.
"'Ahl" said he, "I believe you did tell me so.
That was a most remnarkable case you spoke of this
morning, and I would like very much to know the
particulars of it. I don't know what makes me feel
so much interest in this matters.
" It is not strange," said Dick, ";that you should
feel interested. It is rather natural. Two cases of
this kind so nearly alike are enough, under ordinary
circumstances, to stir up one's curiosity."




272                DICK WILnSON.
"That's a fact, Mr. Wilson.  My curiosity has always been very great, and I never knew what to call
it before. Curiosity!-that's it exactly, and I feel better satisfied now. This curiosity is a powerful thing,
when it is once awakened by such awful things. I
will be obliged to you, if you will tell me some of the
particulars of this case."'If you will walk out wMaith me," said Dick, "I will
tell you enough to satisfy you that I am in earnest."
Mr. Stevens readily consented to do so, and off they
went. Dick took it upon himself to lead in the walk,
and directed their steps by a circuitous route to the
stone pile. Just as they came alongside of it, Mr. Stevens said, with signs of impatience:
I" Mr. Wilson, don't forget your promise, for I shall
be offended if you do not satisfy me."''Let us set down here,"' said Dick.
" I would rather not," was the reply.
": Why not?" quickly inquired Dick.
" It is unpleasant."
"What makes it unpleasant?"
"I don't know."
"Have you ever been here before?"
"Many a time," was the trembling reply.
"' Have you been here on any particular occaszon for
a particulcar purpose?"
" Not that I can recollect."
" Your memory must be treacherous indeed. Does




THE GUILTY TREMBLE,            273
not the father of Mr. Gilmore lie beneath this pile of
stones? You surely cannot have forgotten the night
on which you bore that lifeless body to this spot, and
here interred it."
Mr. Stevens attempted to speak, but he could not
articulate a single word, and Dick continued:
"You have, without cause, sought my destruction,
and here now, poor old man, you stand trembling before me, in the presence of the rude sepulchre which
contains the evidence of your guilt. I know the
whole of this matter. Are you satisfied? Say, are
you satsfied?  Aged criminal! your sins have found
you out."
Dick at once directed his steps to Mr. Watson's
house, having left the guilty man standing in horror
near the grave. As he entered, his excitement was
at once apparent to Mr. and Mrs. Watson, and they
interrogated him as to the cause. He revealed the
whole matter to them; as well as his arrangements
which were made with Mr. Gilmore's son in reference
to the prosecution of the case. Mr. Watson expressed his regret that anything in reference to the matter
had been made public until after his admission, adding, that if Felix could be bought in one case, he
could also in another, and that if Judge L  and
Stevens together could ascertain who the witness was,
that it would be impossible to get at the facts.
After tea, Mr. and Mrs. Watson asked Dick to walk
L*o.;




274               DICK WILSONo
out with them. They led the way and soon arrived
at the very house which, before any other in the village, Dick would have selected as his residence  As
they entered, he saw that everything was in readiness
for the reception of a family. It was plainly yet
pleasantly.furnished throughout, and Dick thought
even without an inhabitant, it had still an air of cheer;
fulness about it, After thev had examined the house
through, and Dick had expressed himself freely in
reference to its pleasant appearance, Mr. Watson said:
" It is a pleasure to me to inform you, Mr. Wilson,
that this house has been fitted up for yourself, and. it
will afford myself and family much pleasure to see
you and your mother, your sister and brother, after
the severity of the trials through which you have
passed, once more in the enjoyment of peace and happiness."
" Richard," said Mrs. Watson, "I think you will yet
see pleasant days, and I would now advise you to lay
off that melancholy expression of countenance. Your
mother ought not to see it, for it will represent to her
a canker at the root, and may bring unnecessary sadness to her heart."
"' Ah!" said Dick, with a painful smile, "the extreme of ambition and the extreme of poverty, with
an absolute dependence on the kindness of others, is
hard to endure. But I will try to wear it off, and I will
struggle to show you that I appreciate your kindness."




CHAPTER XVI.
THE PLOT.-THIE VICTIM.
" What dire necessities on every hand,
Our art, our strength, our fortitude require!
Of foes incessant, what a numerous band
Against this little throb of life conspire!'
As Mr. Watson had suggested, Dick had acted very
much against his own interest and the ends of justice,
in making any revelation whatever to Mr. Stevens.
The matter, with the manner of its discovery, soon became public, andQ worst of all, Felix was gone, and no
one could give any account of him. There was no
doubt in the minds of the better portion of the community in reference to the correctness of the report,
and if there had been, the sudden disappearance of
Felix would at once have removed it.  This was a
singular advantage gained over Dick by Mr. Stevens
and his friends, and although Mr. Jacobs, who was
himself a rumseller, declared that Felix had communicated these things as facts, the cry of slander was
notwithstanding raised against him.
After the disappearance of Felix, Dick at once wrote
to Mr. Gilmore, informing him  of the fact, and re



276              DICK WILSON.
questing him to come on immediately, that the grave
might be opened. While this, if the body were found
there, would relieve Dick in the mind of every one
from the suspicion of slander, it would not necessarily
convict Mr. Stevens of the crime of which he was no
no doubt guilty. In the meantime the influence of
Mr. Stevens and Judge L — and their friends was
made to bear upon him with as much severity as possible, and every opportunity was improved to injure
his feelings and prejudice his interests. Even the
venerable distiller, who had presided at the rum meeting, and who had been such a signal blessing to that
community, by affording them a market in which the
necessaries and the hap2piness of life might be exchanged
for rum-he too was awake, and ready in any but a
legal way, to wipe this suspicion from the craft.
It was now observed that Mr. Stevens strutted the
streets more pompously than ever before, and as often
as possible took occasion to pass the office of Squire
B ——, not neglecting to cast a threatening look at
Dick when he met hin.
In a short time Mr. Gilmore arrived, and arrangements were at once made to open the grave. Many
persons were collected to witness the result, and every
one present trembled with intense anxiety. Stevens
was present and stood as near the spot as he could
possibly get.
"These stones," said the old grave-digger, as he




THE PLOT.-TItE VICTIM,          277
commenced his work,' have not laid here as they
now are for the twentieth part of twenty-five years."
This at once created the suspicion, that if it was in
fact a grave, some person had recently disturbed it,
and if so, its occupant had undoubtedly been removed.
The stones were soon cleared away, and the work, to
all appearance, ready to be commenced in earnest. It
was now a matter of surprise to many that the old
man hesitated to commence his work, and some one
in the crowd called out —
"Jacob, why don't you commence digging?"
"' It's no use," he replied shaking his head, "for this
here spot has been worked on very lately,"' and picking up from the earth something that attracted his
notice, two or three rusty buttons were shown, and it
was manifest enough that this relic had not been long
exposed to the action of the atmosphere. Jacob at
once handed the buttons to Mr. Gilmore, and said:
"I will go down to the bottom, if you say so; but
whatever may have been here, it is now gone, and we
will not find what might have been found a few weeks
since."
Some thought it was best to give up the search, and
others, encouraged by what was already found, advised to the prosecution of it. The grave-digger persevered until he had got to the depth of two feet,
which proved to be the bottom of a hastily made
grave.




278              DICK WILSON.
"Now," said he,' I am clown at the bottom."' What do you think?" said Mr. Gilmore. " Has
this been the grave of a human being?"
Oh, there is no doubt of it," said Jacob.
" Have you ever opened a grave before?"
"Yes sir, many a time."
"What has been their appearance usually?"
Just what you see here, sir."
How long do you think it has been since this grave
was opened?'"
" Not over a month, sir, and I should hardly think
as long as that. You see it has been nicely done;
and before I commenced lifting a stone," said Jacob,
" I knew what had been done here; and when the
stones were removed, I found that the surface had
been thickly covered with fresh grass seed, which has
not yet began to sprout. There has been foul play
here. I don't know who did it; but there has been a
dead body put here, and it's very likely that the same
hands that put it here have taken it away."
At this moment Mr. Gilmore advanced to where
Mr. Stevens and Judge L. —-  were standing, and
said in the hearing of all present:'" Mr. Stevens, I have come from a distance to find
the remains of my father, who, I have no doubt, fell
by your hand. You have managed to buy and send
away the only witness by whom this fact could have
been established, and then, to elude detection, you




TrHE PLOT.-THE VICTIM.         279
have rifled the grave, and stolen the evidence of your
crime to some other hiding place. Before I left here,
I was fully aware of your guilt. I called upon Judge
L, your friend, who is standing by your side, and
-who knows that you are guilty, and he warned me
against Mr. Wilson, as being your bosom friend, and
persevered in proclaiming your innocence; and yet
on the same day he was closeted with you, and giving
you counsel how to conceal your guilt. I am as well
satisfied of your guilt as if I had found the remains
of my father in this grave."
Mr. Gilmore consulted nearly all the negroes in the
place in reference to Felix; but even the philosophic
Sam could give no intelligent account of him, farther
than that he had seen him ride out of town on one
of Mr. Stevens' fast horses. After several unavailing
attempts to get a clue to the whereabouts of Felix,
Mr. Gilmore resolved to give up the search and go
home. He saw the embarrassing position in which
Dick was placed, and heard, during his sojourn in the
village, threats of prosecution for slander. In view
of these things, and to raise the spirits of this young
man, he assured and re-assured him of his entire confidence in him, and intimated the possibility of something yet being known which might set the matter
right. He assured him that so far as a prosecution
was concerned, there was not the least probability
of anything of the kind, and if it should'take place,




280              DICK WILSON.
said he, "I will stand between you and your enemies."
The time. when Dick expected to be admitted was
near at hand, and this matter had so confounded him
that he was far from being in tune for it. Gradually,
however, as it apprdached, he seemed to recover from
the mortification which the placing himself so complet61y in the power of these reckless men, had produced.
The day at length came, on which he expected to
be admitted to the bar, and commence an active existence. On the Saturday previous, he had received
a letter from his mother, and also one from Mrs. Livingston.  These letters were full of kindness, and
both congratulated him upon the noble manner in
which he had contended with poverty. The one from
his mother was peculiarly dear to him, for in it he saw
how entirely and how confidingly the little household
were leaning upon him. It expressed the joy which
they felt when his last letter informed them of the
kindness of Mr. Watson in providing for their comfort, and assured him of the comfort and happiness
which a re-union of those domestic ties, which had
been so rudely severed, would bring to their hearts.
The expression of love, the spirit by which home
ought ever to be consecrated, was breathed ill every
line and embodied in every word; and then he saw
the insignificance of his persecutors, some of whom




THmE PLOT.-THE VICTIM.          281
seemed to be like hungry wolves, waiting for their
prey.
In the village of Be, the admission of an individual to the bar was by no means an every-day occurrence, -and hence an event of that kind was looked for
with a good deal of curiosity, and in this instance it
was more than usually intense.
At length the old court-house bell was rung, and
the house was soon filled up, and just as the crier had
finished the sentence, "God save the commonwealth!"
-Dick and his preceptor entered together. After seating himself by the counsel-board, and exchanging
meaning glances with several of his friends who made
out to catch his eye, he turned to survey the gathering,
which was unusually large. The first person who attracted his attention was Horace Stevens. He felt
himself to be prepared for all the legal and honorable
requirements of that day. He regarded himself as
about taking a position in society which would afford
him an opportunity to show himself worthy of the
confidence which had been reposed in him.
After the tedious charge to the grand jury-in
which rumselling was not hinted at —they retired to
analyze the criminality of the county, and find something for lawyers to do. Squire B   - rose and addressed himself to the court in the most respectful
terms, requesting that a committee might be appointed to examine Mr. Wilson, and suggested that if the




282              DICK WILSON.
court had no objection, he would prefer, for his own
part, a public examination. He stated farther, that
there was a very unusual number of persons present,
and he presumed they had come with the expectation
of hearing the examination. Judge Lo, who was
of course on the bench, had not the reputation of being very accommodating, either in or out of court,
and on this occasion anything that would tend to increase the popularity of Dick, of course would not
be granted. In reply to the motion and suggestion of
Squire B —, he remarked that the time of court
was very precious, and could not be spent in flattering
vanity.
" I will appoint a committee," said he, " to examine
this young man, and they can retire to some private
place during the adjournment of the court at noon;
but I cannot, and I will not, take up the time of the
court with this matter."
A committee was accordingly appointed; but Squire
B    -- was not one of the number. He had no more
reason to expect favors of the Judge than Dick had,
for he had watched and divulged his low trickery as
often as he had had an opportunity of doing so.
When the committee were appointed, he remarked to
a lawyer by his side,"t This matter is going to make trouble, you may
rely upon that."
When the hour for.a recess arrived, Sqcuire B —




THE PLOT.-THIE VICTIAL          283
invited the committee to his office, to perform the duty
assigned them. After a close and protracted examination had been made, every member of the committee concurred in expressing the opinion, that it was
one of the most satisfactory examinations at which
they had ever been present.
As soon as the bell was rung for the afternoon session of the court, the house was again crowded, and
the court being formally opened, the chairman of the
committee-who was from an adjoining county-rose
and asked the court to hear a report of the examination of Mr. Wilson. This report was introduced with
much feeling, and so far as a large part of the audience were concerned, with great effect. The whole
thing was of the most flattering character.
Squire B —-- rose slowly, and made a motion to
the effect that Richard Wilson be admitted as an attorney, to practice in the several courts of the county.
This was a moment of excitement with Dick. The excitement, however, was that of hope unmingled with
fear. The dark future which hung over him was
unknown. Could he then have withdrawn the veil,
and see what was soon to be but too clearly revealed,
he might, with Byron, when standing upon the highest crags of the Alpine mountains-poised midway between the heavens and the earth- have breathed out
from his hopeless heart, into the ear of the furious
storm-god, as he was passing in the angry chariot of




284              DDICrn WILSON.
the thunder clouds —" Tell me, ye storms, are YE like
those within the HUMAN BREAST?'
For a moment after the motion was macde by Squire
B~, Judge L — seemed to be very much per
ilexed; but it was evident enough that he had been
drawing quite liberally on the assistance of rum, to
aid him in carrying out his purpose.'Gentlemen," said he, "I have heard your application for the admission of Mr. Wilson, and from your
reputation as jurists, I have no doubt that your report
is correct. I regret exceedingly that there are insum
perable difficulties in the way of granting this application at this time. It may not be known to you,
gentlemen, that Mr. Wilson lacks yet several months
of the time which the law prescribes as being necessary for one of his age, to be spent in the study of law
prior to admission. The court feel the importance,
gentlemen, of adhering strictly to the law, and you
will see the necessity of doing so, when you consider
the dangers to which the standing and respectability
of the bar is liable; and these, at the sacrifice of every
personal feeling, the court is determined to preserve
in their purity. The court find it necessary, therefore, to hold this application under consideration until
the next regular term, at which time, if Mr. Wilson
pursues his studies diligently, he may possibly be admitted."9
A single glance at Dick would have told you that




THE PLOT.-THE VICTIM           ~285
hope in his heart was crushed-it would have pointed
to the dying fires which had warmed him up and kept
him alive in the dclays of his toil, in preparing for that
hour. For a moment he looked wildly around that
densely-peopled court-room, and in the eyes of several
he saw that the smile of vicious triumph was already
kindled. He cast no look towards his friends, for
while he thanked them for their former kindness, he
felt that he needed their kindness no longer.
For a moment he rested his head upon the counsel
board, and when he raised it again his features were
calm —all evidence of feeling was gone, and all that
could be seen of his broken heart with its crushed and
bleeding affections, was a solitary tear.. Like himself,
it was alone-and soon that evidence of agony, so
emblematic of himself, disappeared. Here the crier
was ordered to adjourn the court. In the midst of
the silence and astonishment of the moment, Squire
B — rose, and fixing his eye on Judge L —-, until
it seemed as if it would pierce his very soul, he commended," May it please the court, this is one of the most
flagrant pieces of villainy that has ever been concocted
and carried out in a civilized community. How cool!
No doubt, days and nights of concert with others, have
been spent in perfecting this plot. It affects to be the
promptings of kindness-the respectability of the bar!
What does your honor care about character?-about




286              DICKU WILSON.
respectability? What appreciation have you of kindness?"
Here Judge L. informed Squire Be   that he would
have him committed, if he pursued these remarks.
Said Squire B~,
6" You cannot find an officer who is mean and base
enough to execute your command. What attachment
have you to honor?-None. Here is Mr. Wilson, a
young gentleman of fine abilities, and enviable acquirements, thoroughly prepared to practice in any
court. He has not been trained at that bar, sir, whose
foul practices you understand best, and in the minutia
of which you are deeply read and wonderfully skilled
-but at the bar, sir, where honorable men like himself contend with each other for justice. Here upon
the threshold you intercept his progress. The withering pestilence of the rumseller, let loose in its fury,
wasted and scattered the opulence of his city home,
and sent him forth penniless and alone, to search for
a place in which, by his own industry, he mi ght finish
his profession and find a home, to which he mnight remove those who are dependent upon him. Tell me,
then, if up to this moment he has not nobly acquitted
himself? Chance brought him here. Will you tell
me who has been injured by his coming?  Those
who affect to have been injured by hin, had reached
the acme of wickedness before he camre.  fe has injured none, and those with whom he, ia\  ae cidttd




THE PLOT.-THE VICTIML          287
must regard themselves as being richer in the true
ornaments of life, than before they enjoyed his society.
Now, sir, when he has passed through the trying ordeal of poverty-where he has proved himself not
only equal, but superior to the disastrous circumstances
by which he has been surrounded, and with the tenderest relations of earth clinging to him for protection
and shelter-you have chosen to mete out to him a
furious vengeanceJ"
The stillness of this moment was suddenly broken,
and every eye was turned towards the door. Dick's
cup was more than full-it was running over; and
unobserved by Squire B, he had risen from his
seat, and was advancing towards the door.
" There, may it please the court," continued Squire
B3-, " there goes your victim! he is bearing out
of this court-room, which you have rendered infamous,
his broken heart."
Dick had paused, and was leaning his elbow on the
prisoner's box, apparently indifferent to all that was
passing, when he seemed to be suddenly aroused as
from a dream.
"Judge L," continued Squire B    "Bhas he
ever done you a wrong which was not an hundred titnes
provoked by yourself?  No!  You know that he has
not. You know that you have followed him with
cruelty, almost since you first saw him. You have
been confederate with the rumseller to destroy him. I




288               DICK WILSON.
know that you have disgraced your position by compromising the principles of justice with a miserable
client, in a crime of twenty-five years' standing. I
know very well, sir, the history which for a quarter
of a century has loomed in ghost-like terror about the
old'stone house.' Judge L, — enter it upon the record, that your infamous spirit has finally triumphed
over the young and unoffending!"
Amidst the intense confusion which prevailed, Dick
had left the house, and every one who was not compelled to remain soon followed his example. Every
one who had been taught to prize virtue, left with a
sad heart; and Mr. and Mrs. Watson, as they turned
towards their home, were deeply impressed with the
treacherous character of the Judge, and feared the
consequences, which they apprehended might follow.
"Poor fellow," said Mr. Watson to his wife, as they
passed along, "' I am afraid that even his generous nature, backed by all his love of home and the fair prospects before him, will be insufficient to withstand the
crushing blow. Though he has withstood manfully
all the other temptations which have been almost constantly before him, I am really fearful that this bitter
disappointment will unman him. Before the death of
his father, you know, he drank freely; and he has
often told me that he has had to struggle hard here,
to resist the importunities of his own appetite for
strong drink.  I had supposed the danger past, and




THE PLOT.-THE VICTIM.           289
that, young as he was, once established in business,
with his family around him, the influence of a pernicious early habit would be entirely overcome. But
this, coming to him so suddenly, so severely, I fear
will be too much for him. I tremble for the consequences."
And well he might, for nothing is more clearly established than that the love of strong drink, when
once formed, lives while the heart beats. To resist it
requires a life-long struggle. Years of abstinence may
have been practiced, yet a single draught of the maddening poison fires the appetite to resistless intensity,
sand the victim falls powerless in the hands of the destroyer. This view of the case shows clearly the danger constantly attending the use of alcoholic drinks.
To ue them is to form a relish for them. To love strong
drink, though we may now avoid intoxication, is among
the most perilous positions in which we can be
placed. We may escape with only a shortening of life,
and the rendering of it comparatively miserable. We
may not become drunkards, yet the chances are against
us. If our lives are prosperous and fair-if nothing
occurs to tax peculiarly our fortitude, or our energy,
we may float on, being considered as only moderate
drinkers. But if storms assail us, then it is that our
rotten sails and rickety hulks are tried; and if we have
been moderate drinkers before, we become drunkards
now, and at the very time when the duties and responM.      19




290              DICK WILSON.
sibilities of life press upon us; and when we should
assert our manliness, by meeting and discharging
them, we falter and fall.
Dick's footsteps were soon heard at the door, and
Mr. Watson rose to meet him. He saw at once the
strange calmness which the' chilling events of the day
had printed upon his brow; and there was a wildness
in his expression which told but too plainly the conficts of emotion with which he was oppressed.
"Mr. Watson," said he,'I have come to ask a favor of you. You have been to me more than a father
since I came to your door, a stranger, seeking the
means to obtain my daily bread. I can never repay
you, or your dear lady, for your kindness, your many
favors to me. I wish you, if you will, to mail this
letter in the morning to my dear mother. It will acquaint her of my misfortune, and of my determination to leave this place."
"' But you will not leave us?" said Mr. Watson.
"Yes, Mr. Watson, I must. My business here is
over. There is nothing to keep me longer. My hopes
are all wasted by cruel malice and hate. Oh! my dear
friends, do not think me indifferent to you. Whatever betides me, you will ever be gratefully remembered."
"Where do you intend to go, Richard?"
"God only knows, Mrs. Watson. I am determined




THE PLOT.-THE VICTIM.          291
to leave this place, and where I shall finally stop, this
whirling brain has not yet decided."
"But, Richard," said Mrs. Watson, "think of your
mother-your sister-your helpless brother 1"
"Ah 1" said Dick, " those are precious names to me.
They have hitherto held me up against discouragements. The letter will explain the matter. It will
tell them that I have kept the field resolutely as long
as hope remained, and when that died, I fled from the
field of my disappointment, and whither, time only
can tell."
Then turning to Mr. and Mrs. Watson, and extending his hands he said,"Good-bye, my dear friends. You may, or you
may not, see me again. I shall struggle to show myself worthy the confidence you have reposed in me,
but on some other -field than this," and turning, he
walked rapidly away,




CHAPTERt XVII.
DUTY AND PLEASURE.
"Onward, onward may we press,
Through the paths of duty:
Virtue is true happiness,
Excellence is beauty.
Minds are of celestial birth,
Make we then a heaven of earth."
IT was well known in the village of B —-- that
Dick Wilson had left, and many a heart had sorrowed
over his misfortunes as they contemplated the probable consequences, for which they knew the rumseller
was responsible.
Months had passed, and no reliable tidings of Dick
Wilson had come back to the village from which he
had so suddenly departed.  Mr. and Mrs. Watson
thought and spoke much of him, and their children
often asked the question, " Mother, where is Richard?"
and invariably in answer to these interrogations, which
were prompted by their childish love, she would take
the occasion to warn them  against those unfeeling
men, who were capable of blotting out the light, the
loves, and the hopes of life; and for these things they
could not fail to honor that mother's memory. Mr.




DUTY AND PLEASURE.            293
S —, the minister, was still there, and likely to remain, notwithstanding the bitterest opposition.
A traveller is on the cars, and his attention is directed to a group who are sitting near by him. The
first object is a woman habited in the weeds of mourning, and her appearance indicated that she had not
reached the middle of life. She sat quiet and thoughtful in the midst of a mourning band, who seemed to
regard her as their only protection. The lines of care
were deeply traced upon her brow, and upon her
cheeks, too, are the deep furrows, which look as if the
tearful flood of years had held there its uninterrupted
way. With her, sadness seemed to be doing a rapid
work, and reason to be tottering on its throne. She
turned her eye from the strangers by whom she was
surrounded, with a sweet familiarity towards heaven.
It was plain that she knew the way thither, and that
often in thought she had been there before. Hier lips
moved reverently, and an unearthly serenity gilded
for a moment her countenance, and then, with a full,
rich smile, which looked all the brighter as it contrasted with the gloom of her mourning apparel, she
cast a glance of love upon her charge, and tried to be
calm.
" Who can this be?" inquired the traveller; and
then, as if lost for an answer, he said, "Well, whoever she may be, she is deeply marked by sorrow.




294              DICK WILSON.
There surely was a time when her heart was not sad,
when no cloud of grief shaded her brow, and when
those tears flowed not. These could not have been
tears of joy; for they leave no traces: they wear no
furrows. It is theirs to tinge the cheek of beauty
with a deeper hue of gladness, and add lustre to the
eye which they have moistened. She is a widow, no
doubt, and he upon whom she bestowed the virgin affections of her heart-upon whom she was leaning
for support and trusting for defence in the wilderness
of life-is gone. But where?  To the grave, perhaps, and she is alone, save with her little band, for
whom only her heart seems anxious to beat on. He,
the husband, in the spring-time of existence, may
have forgotten his solemn vows. tHe saw his first-'born infant, and in an ecstasy of pleasure, he may
have sworn over it that he would be faithful to those
solemn engagements, and yet it may be that he turned
from the path of safety and domestic happiness, not
willingly, but under the influence of strong temptation."
The traveller resolved to satisfy himself, and learn
from her own lips the history of her griefs, and to his
sympathizing inquiries, she replied,"i am a drunkard's widow, and these poor children
are a drunkard's orphans."
At this moment the traveller heard the mention of
a name, in which he was deeply interested. He turn



DUTY AND PLEASURE.             295
ed himself hastily toward that part of the car in which
some one, he was sure, had spoken that name. There
was a company of young persons of both sexes, and
the very opposite of the quiet one from whom he had
just turned. Their spirits seemed to be elastic and
cheerful as the air they were breathing, and as their
merry laugh rang out from the yet unchecked fountain
of joy in their hearts, no cloud of permanent sadness
rested on a single countenance in that gay throng.
Sorrow had left no traces there: no withered beams
of hope were strewing their paths. These happy ones
were returning to their homes amidst the associations
of city life, after enjoying themselves for a short
time amidst the rusticity of rural scenes, and, as was
natural enough, they were amusing themselves in the
recapitulating of new sights and sayings. But among
them was one who, if she had not gazed so minutely
or so reverently upon the majestic scenery by which
their rural rambles were skirted, had, notwithstanding,
looked upon that which had been and was still more
majestic and sublime in its being. She had seen a desolated heart, and she had sympathized with forlorn
and neglected merit.
"'Well Kate," said one of the company, addressing
a girl of queen-like beauty and dignity, "your taste
must run -in an odd channel. Oh! you don't know
what you have missed by your strange preference for
that poor family-the widow and her sun.burned




296              DICK WILSON.
daughter. I dare say you lavished your pocket-money
very freely upon them. Ah, ha! my girl, what will
your mother say to this?"
" Lucy,"' said Kate, " I am never afraid to account
to my mother, and this time I shall do it with more
pleasure than I ever did."
" Oh yes, I suppose your mother will praise you.
I remember now-her maxim is that religion and charity go together, I declare, Kate, if a person can't be
religious without becaring its buardens, it's bad enough."
" Religion don't ask you to bear its burdens, Lucy;
it comes to bear yours. My mother will praise me,
that's true; and I love her all the better because she has
taught me to be kind to the suffering. I have given
away no money, but if it had been needed, I should
have done so with a singular satisfaction. I have
sympathized with that family, and although you may
laugh, I am proud to own it; and for so doing I have
been repaid in many ways which, I hope, will benefit
me through life. I regret very much that each of you
did not accompany me with your sympathies to the
house of that heart-broken woman. You have lost
much-more than you are aware off"
W' Vhy, dear me, Kate! we couldn't go there at all.
I am surprised that you should think of such a thing.
Our education is all against that. We would have
given you our charity to have carried with you to
that family."




DUTY AND PLEASURE.             297
"Ahl! they are cheerless enough now, without being frozen by those charities which are unaccompanied
by the heart."
" Oh! we didn't mean to freeze them, but to tell
you what we would have been willing to do, if yo'u
had made the request. VWe are not misers; but as for
going to such low places as that, we can't do it; and
what's more, our parents would not permit us to do
so. NVe thought it strange enough that you went,
but then we referred it all to the singular sentimentalism which has been coming over you ever since you
took that little ragged class of vagrants, whom your
father tamed, and brought into the Sunday-school. I
suppose it's all right, but we can't do it. We ain't
low enough to teach little vagrants!"
"Lucy, I beseech you do not use that word vagrant,
for there is something about it so unnatural and chilling, and so very cruel, when applied to children, who,
in many instances, if they are almost anything that is
bad, are so from the force of circumstances. Those
children, who you are pleased to call vagrants, are indeed very poor. Some of them have poor mothers,
but unfortunately all of them have fathers who are intemperate. I have been at their homes, and I know
what their miseries are. I am willing to admit that
there are cases when that term of reproach may have
an application, but it never will apply to the child. It
ought to be stricken from the catalogue of reproach,
Me




298              DICK WILSON.
and some other word, one that has a winning spirit,
instituted in its place. Better call them victims."
" Whose victims?"
" The rumseller's. Suppose those children had overheard you, pointing them out by that cold wordwould its tendency have been to make them better or
worse? I love those children-not because they are
the children of intemperate fathers —but because they
are human beings, whose destiny must be shaped for
good or for evil. The diamond, although it may be
unsightly when taken from its bed, yet when it has
passed through a refining process, it may vie with the
sun. So with these children, If they are poor, and
comparatively uncared for now, by sympathetic care
they may be prepared for usefulness here, and happiness hereafter. Do not, therefore, use the word vagrant, when you speak of children, and be careful how
you apply it when you speak of the young or of the
old, however far they may be advanced in crime.
Oh, remember that poverty is not without its feeling
instinct-nor is misery without its sensitive spirit."
"Well, Kate, I will give you my word it won't be
used again. You seem to have a special respect for
poverty and low life, and it amounts almost to making
heroes out of your little'victims.' I never yet have
crossed the threshold of poverty, and that may be the
reason why I do not look at the matter as you do."
" Poverty," replied Kate, "is by no means rare, and




DUTY AND PLEASURE.             299
you may yet be forced to cross its threshold in entering your own home. We cannot tell what is before
us. Poverty, when virtue clusters about it as a defence, is able to stand in the evil day; but when it has
combined with vice and shame, it has no defence; but
yet, even this kind is not hopeless —it may be restored.
Kindness may revolutionize the soul, and win it back
to the ways of peace."
"IHa, ha! indeed, you are getting sentimental. Your
visits amongst the hills have wonderfully affected
you. But, Kate, you may do as you please, you
cannot make me mingle with this kind of low life.
It's a pity these low people can't make out to get
along with their own society. It's good enough for
them, and they ought to be contented. It's out of
the question for them ever to be respectable. I presume they were always just so."
" I am surprised to hear you talk in this way. Why,
the rumseller can make almost anything bad. He can
change an industrious into an idle man-an honorable
into a dishonorable one —an affectionate father and
husband into a fiend. Yes, he can turn a domestic
paradise into something as rayless and as cheerless as
Egyptian night."
"Well, now, Kate, this is strange. Just look at it.
You know, as well as I do, that these drunkards are
low people, and that they can never rise-it is their
nature to be just what they are. If rumsellers were




300              DICK WILSON.
doing the harm that you talk about, do you think
that intelligent people would sustain them?-I guess
not."
" I admit, Lucy, that it is strange.; but far the worst
is, that it is true. If intelligent Christian people had
that jealous fear for the peace and safety of their own
homes, which one would think they would have-if
the peace and happiness of their sons and their daughters, which is precious above every price, and which
is daily menaced by this monster cruelty-they would
shake it, with the mighty energy of a giant's grasp, to
the earth. Oh, but it does seem as if a mercy-loving
God would soon awake to full vigor, the slumbering
instinct of humanity. It does seem as if it must awake
before long, to ave-nge the widow and the orphan. I
am well persuaded that it is only because people do
not more familiarize themselves with the homes —the
wants and tlhe miseries of the drunkard's family-that
they are so slow to move on this subject."
"Kate, this would be a nice work for genteel people
-to be caught in the alleys, and garrets, and cellars
of those miserable places. I am utterly astonishedc
that you should think of such a thing. You are an
exception to everything. You are good-better than
you ought to be."'
"Thank you, Lucy; but I think God mbade genteel
people to be more than the slaves of fashion-for more
than to. bencd their nelks to eceive and wear its yoke.




DUTY AND PLEASURE.            301
If this is all they feel to be their duty in life, then they
will come down to the grave with not a single duty
of life discharged. You may laugh now; -but you
would weep if your brother were a drunkard."
"Oh, Kate, there is no danger of that: that's impossible."
"' I admit, that it is improbable, but I cannot admit
that is impossible. I have heard of many, and especially of one, who, so far as natural nobleness could
make him such, was as good as any brother, and, until
cursed by the rumseller, was as noble a son as any
one over whose destiny a mother's heart ever yearned."
" Pray, Kate, who was this paragon of excellence?"
"' He was a widow's son."
"_Ah! I see: poverty made him noble."
"'You are mistaken. Wealth made him  unsuspicious."
"Where does he live?"
" God only knows, if now he lives at all."
" Well, what is his name? You can tell that."
" Not now."
"Why not,?"
"With the name there are other things you must
know."
"Why must I know them?"
"Because you are connected with them, and you
are a part of the scene."
"Where did you learn all this?"




302              DICK WILSON.
"6 From the lips of that poor widow."
G Oh, fie! Kate, you are a good girl; but if that
poor widow and a strayed or stolen son are the heroes,
I guess it ain't very interesting."
4 Oh, yes," replied Kate, pleasantly, yet earnestly,
" you would like to hear it."' Well, what is that widow's name?"
" I did not intend to tell you, but I will. Her name
is Wilson."
"' Wilson? Wilson? Has she lived there long?"'" I believe not."
" That name seems to be familiar."
" Yes, I presume it is. Do you remember spending
several months in the village of B —-? You know
the portrait which is hanging in our parlor?  You
have often admired it, and several times you said that
it reminded you very much of one you had seen.
You were right: it was Richard Wilson's."
She who had been the reputed "belle" in the village
of   -—, started in astonishment, and the deep
anxiety in her countenance made it a matter of general interest, and Kate was besieged with requests
that she would relate the widow's history, which she
agreed to do, if at- an appointed time they would meet
her at home.
They reached the depot, and the passengers were
hurrying to their respective homes. The grief of one
can reach the heart of another, and tinge with sadness




DUTY AND PLEASURE.            303
even the glowing cheek of beauty; but when it does,
it makes that cheek look all the lovelier. This the
traveller saw in the beautiful demonstration before
him; for in every feature of that beautiful girl, gentleness, love and dignity were surpassingly developed.
There she had stood in the midst of that smiling,
fickle band, the only one of their number who could
defend, with heroic magnanimity, the poor and unfortunate —laying the blame where of right it belonged,
at the door of the rumseller.
Oh! that the youth of America-those whose banners, ornamented by the hands of their gentle sisters,
and followed by their prayers, have often danced
proudly on the battle-field, and waved defiance in the
face of the maddening charge-were all like this young
heroine of virtue!




OCHAP TER XVIII.
KATE HAMILTON AND MRS.' WILSON.
" O ye, to pleasure who resign the day,
As loose in Luxury's clasping arms you lie,
0 yet let Pity in your breast bear sway,
And learn to melt at Misery's moving cry."
"Well, girls," said Kate Hamilton, when her audi.
tors had assembled at her father's house, "you seem
to think that wealth and respectability are proof
against those changes of condition which often result
from the rum traffic."
" Ah!" said Mr. Hamilton, "that's a great mistake,
as in my limited experience I have already known
more than a dozen wealthy and worthy families who
have been reduced to beggary and rendered miserable
by intemperance."
Here it was evident enough that Kate's auditors were
fearful, lest Mr. Hamilton should rise above the commonplace morals to which they were accustomed, and
give the matter a seriousness which they thought
would lessen its interest. Kate had already informed
her parents of all she had seen or heard from  the
widow; and in their own domestic circle, in a feeling
and Christian manner, they had canvassed the subject.
"Now," said Kate, "if you still entertain the opin



KATE HIAMTILTON AND MRS. WILSON.    305
ion you did, I think I can convince you that you are
wrong, and that reverses have a foundation in fact
deeper than they usually have in the wildest fiction."
"Kate," said the young lady who had been foremost in the conversation on the cars, " do you know
who that portrait represents?"
"I have heard of him."
" Have you ever seen him?"'
" I have not."
" How did that portrait come into your possession?"
"Frank brought it home with him from college."
" Did he never tell you whom it represented?"
"Yes. Dick Wilson is the original."
" lKate, you are jesting. Are you sure, that the portrait represents Dick Wilson?"
"Yes, I am sure of it. He was a most intimate
friend of my brother's, and in looking over Frank's
old letters a day or two since, I found several from
him. Did you ever know a person of that name?"
" Fate," said Lucy, " has brought me here this evening, to rehearse to me a lesson I was trying to forget.
Go on, Kate."
"These things," said Mrs. Hamilton, "are hard to
banish. The thorns which we pluck with our own
hands, and place in our own beds, will surely pierce
us, and often with many sorrows."'
"Fate is a hard master,' said Lucy, as she looked
intently into the unruffled countenance, which brought
20




306                DICK WILSON.
back the thronging recollections of the past, and from
which she seemed to hear, in a gentle whisper which
spoke to her heart,'I have a mother," and then, as on
that fearful day in the court-house of B ——, it seemed
to be rushing fromu her presence in the wild frenzy of
despair. For a few moments she seemed to be deeply
absorbed in reflection, in which, no doubt, the past
history of the individual pictured before her was
rising in its sad realities, and she:faintly ejaculated,
"' Where is he?  Where is he?"
"On the sunny plains of Mexico," said Kate, "he
sleeps a quiet sleep in a soldier's grave, where the din
of battle and the wail of the dying chanted his requiem.  Ah! but say not'fate,' for it is a cheerless
word, and here it is wholly inapplicable.  Fate, mingling in our misfortunes, would encircle them with
additional terrors, and so continue, until even despair
would be welcome to the heart.  Say, Providence:
there is something sweet and inspiring in the vastness,
the intelligence and goodness expressed by that word."
6 You say he sleeps?"
"' Aye, the long sleep, dear girl, which is broken
only by the resurrection.  But I will tell you all in
its connection."
"' Go on, Kate. Oh! if once again I could see that
face as on the fatal night when first I saw it. Then
beauty and dignity covered it, and then I, a foolish
girl, was willing to contract for its ruin, and for tihe




RATE HAMILTON AND MRS. WILSON.   307
breaking of those hearts to whom misfortune had endeared it. There is a madness in the wine cup which,
until now, I never saw."
We feel, but cannot explain, the laws of association
by which we are surrounded-the nicety with which
they are woven into the very constitution of our being;
and yet we know that by this connection the simplest
agency may awake in our recollections-in our very
souls-those events which in joy or sorrow rise up before us again; and they have a whispering voice
which has power to chain and hold in captivity even
the stern energies of a mind which ordinarily is not
easily moved.
Oh yes, grief-smitten mother! in your premature
widowhood you have felt, seen, known, that there is a
fearful meaning in the feeblest memento. Even the
wail of your infant child can call up those overwhelming recollections which remind you of the bright days
of your home-days which were darkened by the
coming of the rumseller, to riot without mercy on the
affections of that home.
" Now, girls," said Kate Hamilton, " why or how it
was that I strayed from your society during our recent
visit I cannot tell; and neither can I tell why it was
that my attention was directed to that family. But
one thing is certain-we don't always direct our own
steps. The old grave yard lying just opposite the
house, with its antique appearance, attracted my curie




308                DICK WILSON.
osity, and I entered it.  After passing through it, I
seated myself on a beautiful grassy knoll, whose sweet
appearance during a century had kept at bay the
grave-digger's spade. The door of that humble dwelling was wide open, and I was sure that it was the
abode of poverty.  Occasionally I caught a glimpse
of the inmates; but after all, the grave yard was my
study, and I was unwilling to be interrupted. I was
rising to depart, better, I hope, than when I entered,
when my attention was arrested by what to me, at that
moment, seemed to be the finest music to which I had
ever listened. The singers were trilling, with a mournful cadence, in which feeling and musical precision
were blended into the sweetest harmony, a precious
old song, to which I am passionately attached, and I
listened as if listening to the music of seraphims, while
they sung, with a rich, clear melody, the words,
"Oh, come, come with me to the old kirk yard,
For I well-know the spot, through the old green sward;
Friends slumber there we were wont to regard,
And we'll trace out their names in the old kirk yard."
An indescribable sensation came over me, and as they
concluded, I said involuntarily to myself-' Here
I am, amidst the rural scenery of nature, where I expected to hear no music but that which is breathed
from nature's own lungs, and yet here I have heard
almost the perfection of that rare accomplishment.'
I knew very well that nature educated in some degree




KATE HAMILTON AND MRS. WILSON.    809
her own children-that her high mountains and dashing cataracts could give to her rural offspring the fervid inspiration as well as the rich, mellow voices to
which I was then listening-but I knew that nature
could never give that elegant precision. I arose from
the'beautiful spot where I had seated myself, in the
resting-place of the dead, and crossed over the street
to the door. Oh, if you had seen that group   The
door was still open, and. could see them plainly;
and what a contrast there was between those pale
cheeks and those rich voices! There sat three persons-a mother, a daughter, and a little boy —grouped
together in the informal order of true affection; and
it seemed as if they were trying to console each other
to the last. They were sad indeed, but intelligence
and dignity were in their sadness. They were pale,
but there was beauty in their paleness. They were
poor, but there was an evident nobility in their poverty. And last of all-any one might have read in
the calm expression of their countenances, that in enduring riches they were princely. As I stood before
the door they invited me to enter, without any appearance of confusion; and as I did so, the young girl
immediately handed me a chair. After seating myself, I asked to be excused for the informal manner in
which I had made my  appearance, and then told them
how passionately I was attached to the song which
they had been singing.




810              DICK WILSON.
"' We are glad to see you,' said she, who proved to
be the mother of the two by her side.' That old song
is very precious to us; and yet we seldom sing it-only
when we would hold fellowship with those whom it
vividly pictures to our mind, as when in the bloom
of youth and in the strength of manhood.'
"I asked them to sing' The Old Kirk Yard' again,
and they cheerfully complied with my request. When
they had finished it, and wiped the tears from theii
cheeks, the little boy, with a pleasant, playful smile,
approached me. There was something remarkable in
that boy's countenance. It seemed as if I had been
acquainted with it for years, and yet I was sure that
I had never, seen it before. Placing his hand in mine,
he said,
"' Will you please, Miss, to tell your name? You
don't live about here, do you?'
"I told him that my name was Kate Hamilton,
and said,'Now you will tell me your name, wont
you?'
"'Yes, Miss,' said he;'my name is Harry Wilson.'
"I then asked the lady if she had resided long in
the place, to which she replied that they had been
there but a short time, and that the city of  ~ was
their native place.
"'Oh no I' she continued,'we are almost as much
strangers here as you are yourself. Myself and my
poor children came here recently, and are compara



KATE HAMILTON AND MRS. WILSON.   811
tively strangers. We were forced to turn our backs
upon our home. Yes, yes!' she continued, in a paroxysm of grief,' the city of -    is our native place —
my own, and the birth-place of my children. It will
remain so forever; but, alas! we may not hope that
it will ever again be our home. All is lost-all that
endeared it to us is gone! Our home, with its cherished objects, has been swept away forever. Other
feet are moving, and other hearts are happy, at this
moment, where ours once trod, and where our hearts
were happy; but that was before the spoiler came.
Other voices are ringing in merriment through halls
which once were familiar with ours, and other children
are prattling in the same nursery where these poor
children once played; and, oh! may they never feel
in those same halls the bitterness which we inherit!
By what fearful temptations is poor human nature
continually surrounded, and especially in fashionable
life I The rich may often do what the poor dare not;
but this is a fearful evidence that their path is doubly
perilous, and that it is as much subjected to the inroads of the rumseller as in the path of the poor.
Miss Hamilton, he has ruined us! When I look at
my poor children, what must I think of him? When
my heart turns to the grave yard, can I bless him?
When I go forth in thought to search for the grave
of my lost one, can I have words of kindness for him?
No, no! I cannot; but I will not curse him. I will




312              DICK WILSON.
leave him in the hands of that God from whose judgment he cannot escape. These children, four years
since, had before them the prospect of ample wealth,
and claimed a place in the best society. I say the
best, for so it is called; but it's often greatly misnamed.
Their morning was as bright as it could have been;
but it has been quickly succeeded by a dark day of
gloom and affliction.  What are they now?  They
are young-they are innocent-they are uncomplaining. A murmur is scarcely heard from them. They
are poor, and to a great extent they are uncared for
by any save myself. I have this picture continually
before me. I can close my eyes, but I cannot shut
my heart. I see them shut out from society; and
then I see the fearful consequences which necessarily
follow-the scoffs and the insults of the rude and the
low-bred, mingled with the chilling indifference of the
proud. I see them pouring out their griefs and their
tears in secret places, where none but the eye of God
can see them; and when I see this, how painfully ap-.
pears before me the contrast and the cause. Oh, yes!
my young friend, when I see all this, as it comes unbidden to my mind, with the appalling visage of some
dark spectre, bearing misery to the hearts of those
dear ones of mine, whom a gracious God has yet
spared to me, it almost drives me to madness. When
I see and feel this, I cannot help concluding that the
rumseller's business is humanity's bitterest curse; that




KATE HAMILTON AND MRS. WILSON.   313
he who pleads for it is doing a flagrant wrong to his
kind. I know not how soon this fragile form of mine
may bend to thie earth before the rude storm, whose
fury has loosened my hold on life. My children may
yet become the inmates of the poor-house, but while
I live I shall labor to prevent it.
"' Our circumstances,' she continued,' have been
very different from what they are now. IMy husband
was a wealthy merchant in the city of   —. He
had a generous disposition, and we had all of earthly
comfort that our hearts could desire. We had joy,
happiness, friends. We supposed that these things
would outlive ourselves, and be a portion for our children.  He was richly endowed with all the social
qualities of life, and his manners were winning in the
highest degree. He loved his family as he did his
life. Our style of living was fashionable. In this respect, I can truly say, that it amounted to folly; but
then we could not avoid it: for our circumstances, together with our position in fashionable life, fastened it
upon us, and for myself, I endured rather than enjoyed it. We suffered this cruel species of slavery, because we could not break the chain. But it is broken
now-broken by its own rottenness, and just when it
had succeeded in paralyzing those energies which
should have been free to meet and struggle with adversity. Our side-board-ah I yes, here was our fatal
mistake-was always richly furnished with sparkling
N




314              DICK WILSON.
decanters, to which the friend was always made welcome, because we thought there was no harm in it, and
no danger to be apprehended from it! It seemed to
bring cheer to their hearts, and wit and sprightliness
to the conversation of our guests; and many who
have forgotten the name of Mary Wilson, will have
difficulty in forgetting the kindness with which their
coming was always greeted at our house. In all this
we saw no danger. Our children were growing up
around us, and our domestic happiness was completed
by their childish love. It wasfashion's voice, and we
obeyed the call; for it promised to screen us from the
evil hour, if, peradventure, it should ever come. We
never thought that this stream would overflow its
banks-we never dreamed that that side-board in our
own house was opening a path to the bar of the rumseller. There was one, however, who saw the danger, but
who, from fear of offending, did not mention it until
it became apparent to myself. One day a person entered our parlor and inquired for my husband. He
was an old minister, whose locks had been whitened
by age, and who was an intimate friend of our family.
My husband and myself had every confidence in him,
and were always glad to see him entering our house,
for we knew that our good was the object he sought
to promote. My husband was at home, but at first
refused to come into the parlor. I expostulated with
him, and entreated him by the proverbial civilities of




KATE HAMILTON AND MRS. WILSON.   315
his house to come in at once. I could not at first understand why he was so reluctant to see this good old
man; but directly the truth flashed upon my mind,
and I said,"'Come, Richard, he will do you no harm. His
visits are always cheering,' and taking him by the
hand, we entered the parlor together, and my husband
welcomed him with genuine cordiality. In the society
of that old man, no one could have kept back the acknowledgment that his presence rendered the very
atmosphere more sacred. On this occasion he was
familiar and affable as usual, and yet, although he had
not named the purpose of his coming, it was evident
that a sense of duty had directed his steps to our door.
For some moments he seemed to be engaged in a
struggle with his own feelings. It seemed as if he
were looking deeply into his own heart, in which a
sense of paramount duty was struggling with the very
natural fear of offending. He began:
"'Mr. Wilson,' said he,' it is now a little more
than nine-and-thirty years since a pious mother, now
ini heaven, I have no doubt, committed you with her
dying breath to God, and left you motherless in the
world. You have grown up to manhood, and you
are surrounded by a young family. You have been
blessed with all the comforts that the world can give:
and yet I am fearful that you will find it to be after
all a broken staff. I have often prayed that the pray



816              DICK WILSONo
ers of your mother might be answered; but my hopes
are every day declining.  Wealth and fashion are
fearful obstacles in the way of a faithful discharge of
duty. It has been so with me on many occasions. I
have come to your house before on the same errand
which has brought me here to-day, and I have gone
away again cast down and discouraged-almost resolved to let you go. But why should I fear to approach this subject, or conclude that it will be thanklessly received?  If I had overheard a band of incendiaries covenanting amongst themselves, that at the solemn and lonely hour of midnight they would fire your
dwelling, I surely would hasten to you with the tidings, and you would thank me for it, too. Or if I had
heard the low, stealthy whispers of an assassin band,
fixing the hour of your destruction, would I not hasten to you to warn you of your danger? and would
you not thank me for it? Or if I knew that in your
absence your wife and your'children were to be hurried out of this house and launched into the jaws of
an unrelenting poverty, would I not, for the love I
bear to yourself, your wife and your young children,
hasten to your door, break in upon your quiet slumbers, and bid you to be watchful?-and you would
thank me for it too. Mlr. Wilson, I see all this, and
more than all this, looming in terror about your door.
I see ruin, misery, and death flocking to your threshold, to blight its joys. I see your wife and children,




KATE tHAMILTOIN~ AIND MRS. WILSON.    317
unless there is a rapid change, taking a last, a wild
glance at all that is left there to love, then turning
from these halls, to enter them no more. I see them
on their way to your yet fresh grave, to consecrate it
with tears.'
"' What reason have you,' said my husband,' fox
those alarming conjectures? I apprehend no such
danger as that of which you speak. I know no cause
for alarm.''I know,' said he,'that the wine-cup is obtaining the mastery over you; there is, therefore, most
imminent danger.'
"' I do not think it is,' replied my husband.
"'Ah! Mr. Wilson, that increases the danger. You
do not see it yourself; if you did, you might avoid it.'
"' Well, it is strange, sir,' said my husband,' if such
is the fact, that I should not know it. I think I am
safe enough, however.'
"'Well, I am sorry that you think so. I wish it
were true; but a long experience has taught me that
with perseverance in this way, ruin —the ruin of everything-is inevitable. I am sure the wine-cup is becoming your master. I do not see the evidence of
this in your domestic circle; nor do I see it so much
upon your cheek, as I do in the grass-grown path of
your former life-a path in which you were wont to
travel in the discharge of high and sacred obligations.
This path is closing, and I see a fresh path, which is




318             DICK WILSON.
every day widening and deepening, from your doors
stone to the place of sin and death; and there I see
you sitting with apparent satisfaction, in the rumselo
ler's den. AXh i my friend, he is skilled in his business. He knows every turn in the road along which
yourself and your possessions are coming into his
power. I have not seen you engaging in the revels
which are usual in many of those places; but you
have argued in favor of the liberty to sell rum. Your
temperament, Mr. Wilson, is of the kind which will
move you fast in whatever direction you take. You
are unsuspecting, and hence direful consequences will
come to you unexpectedly, and before you are aware
of it. Forsake your course quickly, as you love your
own soul-your own peace-as you love your family,
as you love everything that is dear upon the earth, or
sacred in heaven. Forsake it, and return again to
duty, to peace and hope. As you have been in the
bar-room from time to time, have you not frequently
met with those who were habitually there, wasting
themselves and squandering the little for which penury was pleading at home? Beware of these associations, Mr. Wilson, for they will ruin you. Beware of
your own conduct, too, for you may ruin hundreds.
Your position gives you influence to do harm as well
as good. You may ruin your own family, and you
may wound a thousand hearts, and cause them to
bleed through the whole journey of life.'




KATE HAMILTON AND MRS. WILSON.   319
"After engaging in a fervent prayer, the echoes of
which are yet alive in my heart, he rose to leave; but
on reaching the door, to which my husband had accompanied him, hel suddenly halted, and taking him
by the hand, said:
"' I Now, Mr. Wilson, I beseech you, by the memories of those who are sleeping on the shores of the
Delaware; I beseech you by the loves and the hopes
of the living; I beseech you as a husband, father,
friend; I beseech you by everything, present and
future, and by all that pertains to the endearing relations of life; for the sake of crushed and bleeding
humanity; for the sake of your own present and eternal interests, and in view of your dying hour-turn
yourself and your influence against the ramseller.'
"After he had gone, my husband sat down for a
moment, as if appalled by what had passed. There
was no evidence of passion in his countenance, and
rising in an agitated manner, he commenced pacing
the room. Suddenly he came up to me, and taking
me by the hand, said:
"'Mary, can you tell me what Mr. J —-- means?
I was not prepared for such a shock as this. It is both
sudden and strange. Surely he does not think that I
am a drunkard  Then what under the heavens does
it mean? Do you think any of the children overheard the conversation? If they did, you must right
it in some way.'




320               DICK WILSON.
"'You can do this, Richard,' I replied,'better
than I can, and without speaking a single word,io
them.'
"'H  ow, Mary?' he immediately inquired.
"'Ah! my husband,' I continued,'can't you'tell
how?  Go a little into the past history of our home,
and see if you cannot get my meaning.  I have
never chided nor reproved you harshly, and I never
will; but still I am not blind.''' Mary what do you mean? —for heaven's sake tell
me and I will do anything that is not absolutely impossible.'
".Richard,' I replied,'do you remember the pride
and pleasure you once took in spending your evenings
in the society of your family?  Do you remember
how often you have quoted to me those beautiful
lines"Home! who can tell
The touching power of that most sacred word,
Save he who feels and weeps that he has none 2"
"  Yes, Mary, I do remember, and they are dear to
me now.,
6' Are they as dear as they once were; or are
beauty and loveliness passing from the cheeks of
those dear children?'
"''Mary,' said he, while the tears rolled down his
cheeks,'they are dear to me-they are a part of my
being. You do not think that these children could
lose their place in my affections?'




KATE HAMILTON AND MRS. WILSON.   321
"'But, my husband,' I replied,'others have the
power to rob us of your society.'
"'Oh! Mary, it is my business that is pressing me
-necessity compels me to be absent from you.'
"'Richard, is it not the necessity of which our
friend has spoken.'
"'Do you think he could have seen me there?'
"' Where?' I inquired.
"'No matter,' said he,'I was wandering.'
"' Do tell me, Richard, where you meant?'
"'  Yes, Mary, I may as well tell you-r  mean the
rumsellers-and you have as good a right to know as
any one else.'
"' Ah! that is what I feared,' I replied.'That has
troubled me. The rumseller's work!  Let heaven
name it properly; for as yet it has not a name which
denotes its dark character. I have seen its fruits in
the face of age and childhood, as they have come to
our door for charity, and I thank God that I have
always tried to sympathize with them; for the day
may come when we may need the sympathy of others!
Oh! Richard won't you promise me that you will forsake those unworthy associates, and that you will turn
your influence against them at once? Won't you join
with the humane in prayer to God against this business, which is rife with every misfortune.'
"' Yes Mary,' said he,'I will promise you that I
will at once forsake these men, and these places. I
21




322               DICK WILSON.
know what they are better than you do. You have
only seen the product of their labor-I have seen the
machinery in its terrible operation. I promise you,
and I call God to witness, that I will forsake them. I
never knew what misery was, until I became familiar
with it at these haunts.'
"'L At the sound of these words, my heart leaped
for joy, and I thanked God fervently for having sent
his servant on that day to our house. Again the holy
lamp of life was lighted, and burned brightly in my
soul, because I thought it was burning with like brilliancy in the bosom of my husband. Alas! how little
after all did we know of the rumseller's power! I did
not think that it could throw itself into the domestic
circle, and lead out its reluctant victim to the slaughter! It has done it. The law, the boast of civilization, sanctions it. I am its witness-these children
are seals set to its truth.'" 




CHAPTER XIX.
WHAT RUM DOES.
"Fly from the wine cup,
Though pleasure may swiml
In the bright rosy bubbles
That float round the brim.
Far down'neath the depths
Of the read wine that flows
Lurks the Syren that lures
To the vortex of woes."
"'"IF I had known,' continued Mrs. Wilson,'what
a fearful power the rumseller swayed over his victim,
I could hardly have cherished a single hope for my
husband's safety.  Such knowledge, however, at that
time, was impossible; for then I could not suspect a
human being of such absolute cruelty. If I had then
understood that its charm was serpent-like in its character, and that it never removed its eye from its prey
until its victim entered its jaws-then I should have
resigned my husband to his inevitable destiny, and
given myself to preparation for the worst. For a time:I was happy again-happy in the presence of my husband, as when mutually we smiled upon our firstborn.  Our children seemed happier-everything appeared. more lovely, and to me it seemed as if the fast




324              DICE WILSON.
wilting leaves of hope had suddenly ceased to wither,
and had arrayed themselves once more in freshness
and in beauty. Oh! what a broad, deep, and sacred
foundation does that hope, which concentrates in the
well-being of a loved one, lay in the soul, and how
does the full tides of interest and affection love to
sport at its base, and rejoice in its success. One morning, as my husband was leaving the breakfast table,
in better spirits and with a more cheerful manner than
he had manifested in many days, he called me aside
and said,"G' Mary, you look happier than you have done in
months. Everything seems to be clad in new life. It
is strange that I should not have seen this before. I
never supposed that anything could hold such a spell
over my being, as to darken my mind, and mutilate
my hopes and my happiness at the same time. I feel,
and have felt for days, as one who had been brought
back from the grave, or as one who had been released
from the grasp of uncompromising tyranny. Oh! the
headaches and the heartaches of that path!-the gloom,
the anticipations of a lingering death on earth; and
then-oh yes! and then, the lingering death-which,
in the far beyond, still linked to life, utterly refuses
to die  Don't you think, Mary, it was a happy thing
for us that God sent that old man to our house to
alarm me-to warn me of danger?'
66'My heart was wild with glad emotion, and I




WHAT RUM DOES.               325
answered, yes, dear Richard, I think it was; and I
am sure we can never be sufficiently thankful; for
you were well-nigh hopelessly tangled in the meshes
of the rumnseller's net.'
"'There is no doubt about that, Mary,' said he,'but you can know but little of its peril. Indeed, it
is impossible for any one to know it, except those who
have unconsciously fallen under its lash, and smarted
from its stripes I But, you must pray for me; for as
much as I love you, much as I idolize our dear children, and much as I value our domestic peace and
happiness, I must tell you that it is difficult for me to
keep my resolution, and realize the cherished wish of
any heart. You may think this strange; but wherever
I turn, I meet the temptation to forswear myself, and
jeopardize every interest of my life. To get without
the reach of it is impossible. In every street, and at
every corner, start out those forces, before which a
trembling resolution falters-generally falls! These
temptations,-ah  here is the secret-before them
everything gives way!  Remove them and the poor
drunkard will make and keep his resolution to live
soberly; but until this is done, nine out of every ten
will fall-fall hopelessly and forever I'
"' I We had many conversations of this kind, and I
hoped and believed, notwithstanding the danger by
which my husband was surrounded, that he was safe I
I thought our happiness secured. It was, after all, a




326              DICK WILSON.
dream; and why did I permit myself to hope? The
rumseller I the rumseller I It is his to abrogate every
oath which his marked victim may have taken before
the altar of affection, in the heart of his beseeching
wife and children! It is his to stand by till the last
drop of blood has fallen to the ground; and then' to
exclaim, with inhuman indifference —" It is a pity that
he ruined himselfl  He was indeed a clever fellow;
but he would have rum!"  Himself, indeed i Look
at your victim I His blood has flowed out-his eye
is closed-his heart is quietI Did you not measure
out to him the poison?  Then, like Cain, you have
slain your brother. This is the verdict rendered, not
only by widows and orphans, but by humanity at
large. Gradually I saw that the resolution of my husband was giving way before the temptations by which
he was beset, and soon his time was given again to
the society of the bar-room-the deadly upas from
which I feared he could not escape. My hopes were
almost dead, and I had well-nigh concluded that it
would be useless to attempt his reformation. Ah!
but thought I, that victim is my husband.  Our
mutual oaths went up together to heaven, and were
recorded there, side by side; and now shall I give
him up, and let him die as the brute dieth? The instinects of a wife, of a mother, forbid it. On one pleasant morning, when everything without was bright
and beautiful, and when everything within my heart




WHAT RUM DOES.              327
was sad and cheerless, I took him into the parlor, that
we might be alone, and then said to him —' Richard,
this is a lovely morning,' and in an abstracted manner
he said,"'Yes, Mary, it is; but I must really go. I have
some important business this morning, which is waiting for me, at the store.'
"' I understood it, and said-' Tell me, -Richard,
may I hope any longer?'
"' Mary,' he replied,'it is useless for me to try.
My resolution is broken, and it would avail me nothing if I should resolve again. You had better make
up your mind to the worst; for, Mary, it will come.
I cannot prevent it, and I fear it is not far off. They
have too much power over me. I am too weak to
stand against the temptation. There was a time when
I could have done it; but that time is past, and I beseech you, let me go!'
"' ow can I do this?' I inquired. For some moment she made no reply. He had placed his handkerchief to his face, and was weeping bitterly. His
whole frame denoted intense agitation.  Oh! Miss
Hamilton, that was a fearful sight to look upon: to
see the father and the husband bathed in tears and
trembling in agony, dragged out from the loves of his
own house by the witchery of rum.  _ At length he
said to me,"'I feel that I cannot recover myself. If any one,




328              DICK WILSON.
two years since, had pointed to this fearful moment, I
would have asked the question,' Am I a dog that I
should do this thing?" But it is done, and now I cannot help it''"' You love me, Richard?' I replied.
" Yes, Mary, as I ever did.'
"' And you love your children?'
"'Yes; poor children-I love them, but they will
have but little cause either to love or respect my memory. WShat is to become of them? My character
is ruined not only, but my estate also I Ah! you will
soon know all. The prediction of our old friend is
rapidly fulfilling. The storm has gathered, and is
ready to break.'
"' Richard,' I continued,'wont you resolve, and
try again? Oh I if it be possible for you to escape,
do not give yourself up to destruction. Your wifeyour children-yourself  Oh, God! must all be lost I
~W.on't you try again?'
"' My dear wife!' he replied,'you know not how
the strong man trembles, and how he writhes in utter
hopelessness, when he has once become the slave that
I am. I would do anything to be free again, but it is
too late. Mary, make up your mind to let me go, and
as soon as possible let the cold grave hide me, since
for me there is no more peace, and I live only to dis.
grace you and our dear family.'
"' I hope, Miss Hamilton, that your heart will never




WHAT RUM DOES.               329
be rent by the influence of such a terrifie moment.
During that day, for the sake of my children, I assumed an air of composure; impressed, however, with
a feeling that the worst would soon come. At this
moment one of the servants came in, and announced
the entrance of Mrs. Philips, one whom, of all others
of my acquaintance, I least desired to see. She was
a married lady, of middle age, to whom fortune had
come suddenly, and she was one of the most envious
spirits I ever knew. As soon as she recovered from
her affected sympathy, and had satisfied herself with
a survey of our parlor, she said,"'Mrs. Wilson, it is hard-very hard-absolutely
cruel. You can't endure it-it's dreadful hard to suffer all this-it will kill you. It's a shame for people
to take such advantages. I did not think, Mrs. Wilson, that there were such mean, dishonest people in this
city. This fine house and furniture, and yourself and
your sweet children! Has there been any one here
yet, to look at your furniture? All these nice things
must go, and I dare say they will go cheap. That's
an elegant piano-pure rose-wood; and these carpets
-in fact, everything is of the best quality. I would
like to have some of these things. Ever since I heard
of the advertisement, I have hardly slept a wink. I
presume you would be just as willing that I should have
some of them, as any one else. You would rather see
them taken by your friends than by strangers.'




830              DICK WILSON.' I was almost stupefied, and inquired what she
meant.
"'Why, dear me, Mrs. Wilson, don't you know?
Why, you are to be sold out of everything which the
law don't allow you, in three weeks. Your husband
is broke clear down; and everybody says that it will
be impossible for him to recover. His store is closed,
and has been for two days. I am told, and I suppose
it is true enough, that in one gambling establishment
in this city, he has been robbed, in the way of loaning
to gamblers, of about one hundred thousand dollars,
in the last year! This is all true, I assure you I'
"' II had been looking for trouble; I had made up
my mind on that morning, that it was inevitable. But
then, after all, I was not prepared for anything like
this.  If what I had just heard was indeed true, I
knew how it had been brought about. My husband
was not a gambler; of that I was certain. I knew
that he was generous, and that perhaps when blinded
by strong drink, he had-been robbed of the means on
which we were dependent for subsistence.
"' Mr. Wilson did not return that evening, as he
usually did, to tea, and after waiting for several hours,
I sent a servant out to look for him. I directed him
first to go to the house of a rumseller, at which I knew
my husband had been in the habit of spending much
of his time. The servant soon returned, and I saw in
a moment that something was wrong, and in answer




WHAT RUM DOES.              331
to my question, he immediately informed me that he
had seen Mr. Wilson in the bar-room of the house to
which I had sent him, bleeding profusely. I lost no
time, but with my servant, immediately hastened
thither. The saloon, or bar-room, was filled with
rowdies. Finding it impossible to press my way
through the crowd, I entered a room on the opposite
side of the hall. This was filled with persons of genteel and quiet appearance; they were strangers, and
were engaged in conversation, and I overheard one
saying,' I think he has nearly killed him.' As soon
as I could find words, I said to them,
"'Gentlemen, can you tell me if there has been a
person badly injured here to-night?
"'Yes madam, there has,' replied a gentleman of
strong, muscular appearance. This was the only moment of my life that I ever felt as if summary vengeance would be sweet. I asked the gentleman if he
would have the kindness to ask the proprietor to walk
into that room. I had seated myself facing the door,
and when it was opened, I saw that the crowd had
dispersed. In a moment the proprietor entered, and
I at once asked him if my husband was in his house.
He turned from me suddenly, as if intending to depart at once, without answering my question; and in
my agony I cried out,'Stop, villain!  You cannot
escape in this way.' He stopped, and collecting himself, said to me, with an air of superiority:




382              DICK WILSON.
"t' What business have you in this house, madam?'
"I am in search of my husband,' I replied.
"' Who is your husband?'
"' Richard Wilson I'
"' He is not here, and has not been here to-night.'
i" Do you say, sir, that my husband has not been
here?'
"' I do, madam.'
"'My husband has been here, sir, and is now in
your house, either dead or alive-God only knows
which. I will find him, sir. It is folly for you to attempt to deceive me. My servant saw him in your
house this evening, with the marks of violence upon
his person. If you have murdered him at last, I beseech you in the name of mercy, let me see his body,
that I may give it a decent burial.'
"'Madam,' said he,'if Richard Wilson is your
husband, you cannot see him this evening. He has
retired in a state of intoxication, and does not wish to
see you.'
"'How do you know, sir, that he does not wish
to see me?'
"' You can't see him, madam; and you may as well
leave this house,' he replied, as he turned to leave the
room.
" Landlord,' cried a voice behind me, which I at
once recognized as that of the person who had called
him into the room,'if you take another step, you do




WHAT RUM DOES.               333
it at the peril of your life. Another step, and the record of your abominable crimes will meet you in the
judgment. Stir not, sir; attempt not to leave this
room, and know from one who has the power to command your craven spirit, that this lady shall see her
husband, and instantly, too. God only knows in what
situation she may find him. It may be dying, or already dead.'
"'With the true instinct of a spiritless coward, he
brought volleys of oaths to his assistance, declaring
that Mr. Wilson should not be seen.'
"'Then,' continued the gentleman in whose presence he was trembling,' I understand that it is your
determination, sir, that this lady cannot be permitted
to see her husband.'
"'You understand me right, sir,' was the surly
reply.
"' Well, sir,' said the gentleman,'it is my determination that she shall see him, at once; no matter
through what, or to what, it may lead;' and then
turning to the company, not one of whom, during the
conversation, had said a word, he said:
"'Gentlemen, for the most part, we are strangers
to each other. I am not naturally quarrelsome, and
yet I am not a coward. You have all seen in what a
dastardly manner conjugal devotion has been set at
defiance, and insulted by this wretch. You have seen
the wife come here to find her husband. She has been




834               DICK WILSO0J.
refused to see him, though he may be dying under
this roof. Gentlemen, here is a duty for us to perform; and whatever consequences may attend it, the
man shall be found. Let us make this case our own,
and suppose that our wives or our sisters were trying
to gain admission to our sick or dying rooms, and
were thus inhumanly and brutishly repulsed, would
we not invoke the stranger's arm, to intefere for
us?'
"' He took a lamp from the table, and advancing
toward the trembling miscreant, he said,' Take this
light, sir.'' In an instant, every one in the room was on his
feet, and it was evident enough that they were prepared to act with firmness and decision.
"'There can be but little doubt,' said the stranger,'but this den has its keepers-those who will defend
it, in order to hide from justice the evidence of their
crimes. Let us, therefore, remember that duty is calling us to this encounter, and if we must fight-nay,
if it be necessary to tear this infernal den to pieces, we
will do it I'
"' Addressing the rumseller, he said:
"'Now, sir, lead us instantly to the place where
you have concealed this lady's husband I Let nothing
tempt you to lead us into an ambuscade, for in that
case, you will be the first to fall.'' IHe took the lamp, and with a trembling step, he




WHAT RUM DOES.               835
proceeded. After passing up to the fifth and last story
of the house, in a small room, which, from the fragments that were scattered through it, plainly indicated
that it was occupied by the lowest class of servants,
I found my husband-no light —no water —no friend
near him, and literally clotted in his own blood l
Here the rumseller placed the lamp on an old box
which stood in the room, and appeared to be about
leaving us.' Stop,' said the stranger,' we are not done with
you yet. Make no attempt to leave.'
"'He appeared to be entirely unconscious either
that myself or others were by his side. I spoke to
him, and asked him if he knew me. An expression
of wildness passed over his features, and he spoke
faintly, and yet so that all in the room could hear:
"' My God! Mary, is that you? Has it come to
this? They have succeeded at lastI Oh! for God's
sake, take me from this place quickly. Do not let me
die here I Take me home, that I may see once more
those dear children, who are ruined 1'
"' After speaking thus, he said:
"'Who are those men?9' I informed him they were gentlemen who had
assisted me in finding him. HIe then said:
"'Well, I am lost! lostI lost!-but God bless them
and their wives and children, and keep their feet from
learning the bitter way in which I have trod.'




836              DICK WILSON.
A As reason returned, he fixed his eye upon the
guilty rumseller, and said:
"'Your victim is in a dying state. There, sir, is
ray wife: you have robbed her of everything. My
young children!-you have stolen the bread from
their mouths, and hope and happiness from their
hearts. God reward you!'
" I must cover up the scenes by which this event
was immediately succeeded. I cannot wring my heart
and bleed it afresh by a narration of the fearful history
of the few days which elapsed before the death of my
husband, which was immediately followed by the death
of a lovely daughter. A few hours after we had'returned from the funeral, and while we were grouped
together with a few friends in the parlor, who were
endeavoring to console our desolate hearts, we were
startled by the entrance of a civil officer, who informed us that all our personal property was under
execution and was to be sold in a short time. This
was new to my children, but at that moment they
seemed to have been so entirely broken in spirits that
the intelligence of this new calamity, by which they
were to be beggared, did not seem to affect them.
They looked at each other, and at me, but not a word
was spoken. The officer, with whom I had no acquaintance, was still standing in the room, apparently
waiting an answer from me, and I said to him.
"'I understand you, sir.'




WEAT RUM DOES.              337
o' Well, madam,' said he,'it has been enjoined
upon me by those for whose benefit your property
has been levied upon, to take security for its safe delivery on the day of sale, or to remove it at once to
the quarters of an auctioneer. This, madam, I cannot
and will not do. I know how these afflictions have
been brought upon you, and I know into whose pockets the proceeds of your property will go. I think it
would be an act of justice and mercy to raze many of
those places in this city to their foundations. Heaven
forbid that I should add to your sufferings. I will
neither remove your goods nor take security. I have
no fear about them.'
"' I assured him that nothing should be removed,
and he left. The day of sale arrived, and we saw article after article passing from our possession. This
was severe. Those cherished things wasting and scattering in our presence, was almost beyond endurance;
but the law allowed the rumseller to be paid for his
work, and we knew they must go. It was late in the
evening when the sale closed, and it was quite dark
before the last articles were removed by the purchasers, so that it was necessary for us to remain in the
house during the night. This was not our intention;
for through the kindness of a trusty but poor old
Scotchman, we had procured a very small house in a
retired part of the city, to which it was our intention
to have removed that day. This, however, we could
0             22




338              DICK WTILSON,
not do, it being necessary for us to wait until all was
over, to know what we might carry with us. To us,
that was a bitter, gloomy night. Everything but the
meager allowance of the law was gone, and I have
often thought that those who are excusing themselves
by saying that they can do nothing to stay this current of ruin, would, had they been present, have been
awakened and enlightened, and moved to action.
Through that long and cheerless night, while my children, overcome with grief, were sleeping soundly,
often did I rise to look at them and weep over them.
The next morning all that was left us of earthly goods
was carried to our humble home, where, until within
a few months, we have resided. Miss HIamilton, I have
told you all that I can bear to tell you, and I hope
you may find it of some service to you through life.'
"'Did you not say,' I inquired,'that you had a son?''Yes,' replied Mrs. Wilson,' I did.'
"' Where is he?'
"'That I do not know.'' What was his name?'
"' Richard.'
"' Have you ever heard him speak of Frank Hamilton?'
"'Oh, yes,' she replied, looking at me intently,'very
often. We were well aquainted with him. He spent
a vacation once with poor Dick, and I was so much
pleased with him and his friendship for my son, that




WHATx RUMI DOES.            339
I presented him with an elegant portrait of him. Do
you know Frank Hamilton?'''Very well, Mrs. Wilson.'
"' Are you a relation of his?' she quickly inquired.
",'I am his sister, Mrs. Wilson, and your son's portrait is suspended in our parlor.'
"'Is it possible? Where is your brother?
"'FHe is in Mexico, and we are looking for him soon.
Indeed, he may be now in New York. The war is
over, and those broken regiments are on their way
back to their homes!'
"' Ah, yes, Miss Hamilton,' she replied,' but there
are those who will not come back-those who will
not return with coming regiments. No, no! the dead
at Monterey will never come back. My poor son
must remain there. It may be, that your brother has
fallen in with him, and will know something of his
end, and oh! what a pleasure it would bring to this
desolate heart to see one who saw him  there, and
know from that one how it was.'
"'Is it possible, Mrs. Wilson,' I inquired,'that
your son has fallen in Mexico?'
"' I think there can be no doubt of it, although we
only know it by report.'
"'Why did he leave you?'
"' Necessity, Miss Hamilton, compelled him to leave
home to finish his studies. The wreck of our fortune
left him  entirely dependent on his own exertions.




340              DICe WILSON.
My son went to a village about one hundred miles
distant from the city, to complete his studies, preparatory to admission to the bar.  In this new situation he sustained himself for a year with great credit,
entirely by his own exertion. But ah! the rumseller
and his friends were there, and how could he be safe?
We knew the danger, and we prayed for him daily,
that he might be kept from temptation. His letters
were always cheering to us, and they became more so
as he neared the time of his expected admission to the
bar. It was our expectation to remove in a few days
to the village of B, where, through the persuasion of his friends, he had concluded to locate himself. All our arrangements were made, and the darkness which.had rested upon our path was disappearing,
when we received the following letter from poor Dick:
"   y My dear Miother, Sister, and Brother:
"'Farewell!  Your hopes and mine are broken.
My prospects yesterday were bright: they are now in
ruins! I would like to see you once more-you all,
for whom I have lived, and for whom I was willing to
toil. I have been beset by a cruel and chilling conspiracy. I refused at the house of Judge L    to
drink wine with a foolish girl. For your sakes more
than my own, I was unwilling to risk the peril. This
morning I expected to have been admitted. lMy ex
amination was passed. I was refused and rejected by
the same Judge! I love you as I ever did. Good




WHAT RUM DOES.             341
bye! Tell little Harry that he must fly from those who
have ruined his father and his brother. Good-bye!'"'Since then we know nothing of him, only as we
have heard by accident that a person of his name had
fallen at the battle of Monterey. We have nearly
ceased to hope. My husband has been taken away,
and I suppose my son also. We have been robbed of
everything, and we are only one of the hundreds of
thousands who are writhing under the bitter infliction.'
"There," said Kate Hamilton, pointing to Dick
Wilson's portrait, and with her eye fixed on Lucy,
"that was cruel. You ought not to have tempted
that noble young man. Ah! you cannot measure the
consequence of that glass of wine with which you
tempted him."
"Kate," said Lucy, I"I will go at once to that
widow, and make atonement."
"How will you atone? Can you give her back the
son, full of vigor and hope, as when you saw him
first? Can you open the grave and bring him up,
manly and beautiful as he was on the last day you
saw him in that peopled court-house? No, no; yours,
I fear, were but a part of those influences which drove
him from home and friends, and that led him to a
distant clime, in which his life has been sacrificed.
For this you cannot atone."
Lucy was silent for a moment and, then buried her
face in her hands.




CHAPTER XX.
THE REFORMED  RUMSELLER1
6C Ah i who can tell how hard it is to climb
The steep where wine's red temple shines afar;
Ah! who can tell how many a soul sublime
Has felt the influence of that malignant star,
And waged with virtue an eternal war."
"I rHAVE been in the business," said a reformed rumseller, " in the best, but never in the worst places, and
I know what it is, and to what it tends, notwithstanding the eloquent pleadings of its apologists.  I know
what it is in the capitals of the largest States in the
Union, and in the capital of the nation."
"Well, what do you think of it?" said a less than
half persuaded philanthropist, who found it impossible to satisfy himself that rum was not among the necessaries of life.
" I think, sir," said he, "that it is degrading to him
who is engaged in it, and that of all other employments, it is the most injurious to the community in
which it is carried on."
" Do you think," inquired the hesitating philanthropist, " that there is any possibility of doing away with
it?"2




THE REFORMED RUMSELLER.             343
"Oh yes, sir; of this I have no doubt."
"In what way do you propose to do it?"
" By wise legislation, sir; and this is the only way
in which it can be done?'
"Well,  well, sir-but hasn't our legislation been
wise heretofore?'"
" Ii think not, sir. The true, effective course would
be to give it no quarter-to strike it from existence at
once and forever'"
"' But can this be legally done?'"
"I I think so, clearly. We certainly have a right to
suppress any traffic, any business, the only tendency
of which is to injure the community; and as the selling of rum to be drank, has this effect and no other,
the right of the people to protect themselves from its
effects is, I think, beyond reasonable question.  The
stale cry of illegcaity, unconstitutionality, &c., has lost
its force, and is no longer in the way of proper legal
restrictions."' Do you seriously think that legislators will risk
the venture?-that they will be willing to go for so
stringent a law as you propose, and run the hazard of
losing the votes of all those who are opposed to the
measure?  If you do, you have greater confidence in
their uprightness and courage than I haveo  The law
you propose strikes at a business in which immense
capital is now employed, both in the manufacture and
sale of alcoholic drinks.  Hundreds of thousands de



344               DICK WILSON.
pend upon it for support. The great interest of agriculture furnishes the raw  materials and annually
draws from it a large amount of its receipts. All this
you propose at once to annihilate-a work, sir, which
I think you will find easier to talk about than practically to execute."
"The time was when these objections influenced
legislation, and were so controlling that the laws enacted were a nullity. That time has now passed.
Three-fourths of the electors, in a large section of the
Union, are decidedly in favor of the measure. They
are also determined that those to whom they give their
suffrages shall, on this question at least, no longer misrepresent them. They know their rights, and they
also know their powers. They have deliberately, and
yet decidedly, concluded to assert the one, and to exercise the other; and mere demagogues and time-servers will be driven into merited retirement, while their
places will be supplied by men with whom principle
will be paramount to policy. A few years since, in a
certain State, while the school question was before the
Legislature, there was quite an excitement. There
were men whose constituents had spelled their tickets,'kno skiool' /and everybody knew how they would go.
It was said that they would echo the kno skool of their
constituency; and so they did. But one of the most
intelligent and prosperous districts in the State had
sent to the Legislature a man who was utterly unlike




THE REFORMED RUMSELLER.            345
themselves. At length the school law was taken up,
and the fidelity of their representative was of course
to be tested. At this time, one of his constituents, a
very intelligent friend of the school law, happened to
be on a visit to the capital, and his curiosity led him
into the Legislature. He was just in time to hear one
of the most eloquent speeches of the session, and was
of course delighted with it. But when the vote was
taken, he was much disappointed to find the representative from his own district vote'kno siool.' In answer to the question, how so intelligent a district as
his happened to be represented by so stupid a blockhead as had just voted, he said that he was a rum-representative, sent up there to protect that interest; and
that he should vote against popular instructions, was,
after all, not so surprising. He said he was comparatively little known to the electors —had, by agreement
with his rum-supporters, pledged himself to the friends
of temperance, and received their votes, and was by
this ruse elected by a large majority. This method
of deceiving the electors cannot now be successfully
practised. The trick is understood, and is guarded
against."
"But how can you guard against this?  Pledges,
you say, are not regarded."
" There are men whose past lives and conduct furnish a certain guarantee that they will act as they talk.
It's these that we shall elect."
0*




346               DICK WILSON.
" Then you do not believe in political catechisms?"
"I do not. The best assurance of fidelity, I repeat,
is the recorded conduct of the men, of whom we have
now an ample supply in all localities; and he that, at
this day, is not publicly known as an uncompromising friend of temperance, should not be intrusted with
the responsible duties of legislation. Elect such men
-and that we shall, is now no longer doubtful-ancd
the'Maine law' follows as a matter of course."
"Why did you quit the rumselling business?"
"For three reasons, sir. The first was on account
of my family. A bar-room is a bad place in which to
educate a child, exposed, as it is, not only to the
temptations of rum, and the filthy and loathsome conversations which rum produces, but the worst of all
possible examples. In the second place, on my own account. I felt its demoralizing effect upon me, even
while engaged in it, and so does every one similarly
situated. I knew almost certainly that if my life were
spared, I should be doomed to reap the consequences
of rumselling-little respected by the good, and uncared for by any. In the third place, on account of
the evil consequences which I saw resulting to others.
I could never believe, hard as I tried, that money was
to be gained, no matter by what means; yet it appears
to me that this is the only maxim on which the rum.
seller can, at this day, justify himself. I once saw, in
my own house, such a fearful exhibition of the evils of




THE REFORMED RUMSELLER.          847
rumselling, that I quit it at once and forever. From
my own bar was the rum given which sent a generoussouled young man onwarcl in the path of degradation
and misery."
" Did you do this yourself, sir?"'"No, sir; but I saw it immediately after it was
done, and I never think of it without shuddering.
About nine o'clock one evening, while keeping a pub~
lic house in the village of B ——, a young man, with
whom I was well acquainted, entered my bar-room
and seated himself quietly. Usually he was cheerful;
but now he spoke to no one. In a short time a colored man came in with his trunk, and as it was placed
on the floor, he said:
A Ah, companion of my misfortunes we must go
again, nor can we expect to keep together long. The
severities of life will separate us.'
"6 I knew that his hopes were in ruins, and vainly
endeavored to assist him in regatherihg them.
"'That, Mr. Jacobs is impossible,' said he:'it
would be as easy to gather the ehaff which has been
driven off by the madness of the whirlwind. I have
no hope.'
"I tried to ascertain what destination he had in
view; but this was impossible- he did not seem to
know. He took from his trunk a package of letters,
then closing it, seated himself on the top of it. His
feelings were intense, as he glanced over the letters in




348              DICK WILSON.
a hurried manner; and then, putting them together
again, he ejaculated:
"'My mother! my mother! your cup of misery is
full!'
"I left the room for a moment, and on returning,
to my surprise, saw him standing at the bar, with a
decanter in his hand. I would have prevented it, but
at that moment half a dozen young men entered the
bar-room. These were the persons who had prepared him for the rumseller-the persons who had
driven him there, and for a moment they quailed before him.
"'Come, come, Mr. Wilson, said one of them whose
name was Horace Stevens, don't take this matter too
much at heart: it will all be right in a short time. I
am glad to see you at the bar. I have more hope for
you now than I ever had. We will drink together
andc be social. It's the life of the law to be social.
Let us drink and make merry 1'
"'Now, Mr. Wilson, give us a sentiment, and matters will all be right.'
"For an instant he looked into the faces of those
who were determined to crown his ruin, and then looking into the glass, as if to measure its wasting curses,
with a look of phrenzy, he drank I Oh, bitter draught l
I had known his early fondness for drink, and the
great struggle which he had had to resist the importunities of a pernicious appetite. Yet I had supposed




THE REFORMED RUMSELLER.          349
him secure in his own firm purpose to resist. But
when I saw him yield, I knew that all was lost!
Henceforward, I feared, he would be a passive victim
in the tempter's snare, for such is the usual, the almost
invariable result. I felt that if there had been:no
rumseller to have taken or given the advantage to
others, at that moment, that young man would have
been comparatively safe. He would have recovered
from his disappointment; the storm would have swept
by, and his sun would have shone brightly again.
But as it was, that sun rose no more. Rum perpetually eclipsed it i"
"Did you ever learn what became of this young
man?"
"Yes sir; after wandering about from place to place
for some time, he enlisted in the service for Mexico,
and it has been reported that he was killed at the battle of Monterey. This, I think, was not true, as I
have been creditably informed that he has since been
seen in the United States."
"Did you hear anything about his situation?"
"Yes sir, and it was bad enough. He was a complete wreck."
"And this example, Mr. Jacobs, led you to quit the
the business?"
"It did sir, and every honorable man who has any
respect for himself, for his family, and the peace of
the community, will, I hope, do. the same thing soon;




350              DICK WILSON.
and those who have no honor to move them, who care
nothing for themselves, their families, or for the peace
of the community, ought to be forced to give it up at
once. Now, sir, this is what must be done by legislation. Heretofore the people have been unconsciously
strengthening the hands of the rumseller. From them
has he obtained his power to mock the pleas of the
drunkard's wife and child. I think sir, if you will examine this matter carefully, that you will agree with
me, that strong legislation only can correct it."
"Indeed, Mr. Jacobs, I think you are about right,
and if legislation is the only thing that can correct it,
we had better have it at once."
" Well, this is what we intend to have; but we shall
meet opposition the most strenuous and untiring.
While the friends of the measure are prompted to effort by a regard to the public welfare, its enemies are
stimulated by the considerations of self-interest.
The former can employ only the arguments of truth,
and can appeal only to the intelligence and virtue of
those whom they hope to move. The latter will, no
doubt, as they have heretofore done, employ the most
unscrupulous of means. Gold, their only idol, will
be freely employed in the preliminary canvass, at the
ballot-box and in the halls of legislation. But it will
not now prevail. Men,' above all price,' will occupy
the seats too long held by the mere sycophant; and
when the question comes up,' Shall the Maine law




THE REFORMED RUMSELLER.         351
pass?' those with strong nerves and stout hearts will
be ready, with a firm and cheering' aye,' which will
dissipate all doubts, and gladden alike the heart of the
philanthropist and the Christian."




ECHAPTER XXI.
FLYING FROM TEMPTATION.
"Fly from the tempterFrom the brow of the brave
She has torn the gay wreath,
And made him a slave;
E'en the pride of the statesman,
The fame of the just,
The wine cup has humbled,
And trod in the dust."
THE conclusion of peace, after the surrender of
the city of Mexico, was the signal to the American
volunteer, that his work was done, and that again
he might turn his battle-soiled frame towards home.
Many anxious hearts were waiting impatiently for the
return of those regiments, whose ranks had been thinned by disease and the Mexican lance.  Some were
waiting for the return of the living, and others to
hear the fate of those who would return no more.
It was soon understood that the shattered remains of
the 11th regiment of infantry were expected that day
to land in the city.  This was believed to be reliable
intelligence, and, in consequence, joyful was the countenances of those who expected to meet their friends,
while others were agitated by mingled emotions of




FLYING FROM} TEMPTATION,         353
hope and fear. At last, and  while crowds were
thronging the landing, the noble vessel, bearing in
her bosom the broken ranks of those who had perilled
their lives in a foreign clime, drew near; and then
were heard the questions —Where is my husband?my brother?-my father? —my son?-and many were
answered, in te grave / Mr. Hamilton and Kate were
there; but not in the crowd. From their position
they were able to see the soldiers as they left the vessel.
" FatherY," said she, "' there are but a few more to
come off-I am sure Frank is not there," and as the
last of those veterans left the vessel, she added, with
painful emotion-'No, Frank is not there."  Mr.
Hamilton replied, " No, my clild, he is not."
Leaving the carriage in charge of the servant, he
at once advanced to where the regiment was forming,
and meeting a young man, whom he at once knew to
be a non-commissioned officer, he eagerly inquired
after his son. He was informed that he had been
transferred to another regiment, and that he had already, or would in a few days, land at Pittsburgh,
with the remnant of the first and second Pennsylvania regiments. He immediately returned and said to
Kate,
" Thank God, the boy is safe, and will be home in
a few days."
"Yes," said Kate, fervently, "thank God-but,
23




354               DICK WILSON.
father, poor Mrs. Wilson's son comes not backo! He
has fallen a victim-to that fell temptation, which by
legal sanction fills the land, and by which so many
are ruined."
"I But, my dear child, this temptation will not, I am
confident, much longer exist. The signs of the times
encourage me to hope that the hour of deliverance is
near at hand; and I have no doubt that twenty years
hence the business of rumselling will be regarded with
as much abhorrence as we now regard the foreign
slave-trade. Yes, my daughter, the day is comingand I thank God for it-when all, in every path of
life, will forsake this business, and frown upon it with
indignation; and when it is left to the protection of
the manufacturer, the vender, and the drinker, it cannot
sustain itself for an hour."
In a few days Frank Hamilton returned, and at his
home all was joy and gladness. The father, and mother, and brother, and sister, with sweet cordiality,
gave themselves up to the pleasurable emotions which
filled their hearts. They were anxious, of course, to
hear from the youthful soldier the history of the
scenes through which he had passed-from the beach
of Corpus Christi to the halls of the Montezumas; and
he appeared as anxious to gratify them.
Frank was sitting opposite the fine portrait of Dick
Wilson, which Kate had removed from the parlor into
the family sitting-room. As his eye fell upon it, art




FLYING FROM TEMPTATION.         355
involuntary sigh escaped from him, and the quick ear
of Kate heard it; and it assured her that he knew
something of the history of him whom it represented.
Frank proceeded to tell them the most startling of
those incidents which are inseparable from war, and
of which he was a witness. When he had finished,
the evening was far spent, and Kate inquired if he
had heard anything of Dick Wilson.
"Why," replied Frank, "what has put that into
your head?"
She then told him what she knew and had seen of
the family, and he replied:
"Kate, I am glad you know where they are-I
know all about poor Dick."
"Well, Frank, do tell us something about his
death."
"His death?" replied Frank. "He is not dead l"
" His mother says he is."' Then, Kate, he has died within a month, for I saw
him embarking for the States."
"His mother heard that he was dead 1"
" It is a mistake. I suppose he landed here a few
days since with the 11th regiment of infantry, and it
is probable that he is yet in the city, as I requested
him particularly to wait until I should arrive. I gave
him the street and number of our residence, and requested him to call-though I did not expect that he
would do it."




356               DICOK WILSON.
"Is this possible, Frank?"
"It is certain; and I have no doubt but in a few
days you will have the pleasure of seeing him in this
house. Col. C-, from Virginia, became very much
attached to him; and I understand the Colonel is lying sick at the Irving House, and the probability is,
that Dick is still with him, as I do not think that, pinder any circumstances, he would leave him in thatsituation."
"Then," replied Kate, "' you have heard of his misfortunes?"
"Oh yes, my sister, I know all about them-we
have been much together, and I know them from his
own lips. I hope he may yet be saved; for with the
single exception of excessive drinking, he is as noble
as he ever was. When in Mexico, surrounded by the
influence of a partial civilization, he was but slightly
tempted; but how he may withstand the allurements
of a Christian land-his native country-I cannot say I
Kate, it is a humiliating acknowledgment, that one
who has formed a relish for intoxicating drinks is less
tempted to indulge it among the rude and half barbarous Mexicans, than among the enlightened citizens
of this Christian land."
"When did you fall in with him?" inquired Kate.' As soon as I landed at Corpus Christi, I entered
the commissary office, to look about me, and see if I
could ascertain the nature and character of war. I




FLYING FROM TEMPTATION.          357
felt somewhat home-sick; the novelty was worn off.
I had seen enough to convince me that this was no
pleasure-trip, if Government did pay the expenses. It
was the first time that a foreign sun had ever thrown
its light on my path. As I entered this office, I found
a good many persons, whose countenances indicated
as much anxiety as mine. They were seated in every
kind of order —on drums, boxes of muskets, cavalry
swords, provisions, &c. As soon as I seated myselfi
my whole attention was arrested by a single countenance, and I became more interested from the fact that
he would always turn from my gaze. I was seated on
a pile of cavalry swords, directly opposite to him, and
for the purpose of better satisfying myself, and giving
it at the same time the appearance of indifference, I
took up one of those swords, and twisted and turned
it, until an observer would have thought that I could
tell all about the instrument, when I was hardly conscious that I had it in my hand. The gray roundabout
and pants make a great difference in one's appearance;
and yet I was certain that in that care-worn face there
was left an expression still, of one whom before that I
had seen and known.
"A lieutenant soon entered, and this young man
rose to answer his call. I watched him closely, as his
pen glided over the paper in preparing the order, and
then heard the lieutenant say,' Dick, you would make
a fine lawyer;' to which he merely replied,'Do you




358              DICK WILSON.
think so-?' After this, he turned his face to the window, and so remained for a few moments, and when
he again turned to the desk, I saw the evidence of
tears, which he vainly attempted to conceal. A very
little thing, Kate, will waken up in the heart the most
tender recollections, and I knew that something had
touched a deep chord in that young man's heart, by
which, perhaps, the cheerless memories of disappointments were revived afresh; but until that moment, it
did not occur to me that it might be Dick Wilson. I
immediately left the office-for I found that it would
be impossible for me to satisfy myself without addressing him. As I was leaving, and had got some distance
from the office, I turned and looked back, and as I did
so I saw him standing at the door, with his arms folded across his breast, and I concluded at once that he
had come there to look after me. There was something
very imposing in his appearance, and what I could
not determine, while sitting face to face with him, was
now clear enough to my mind, and I was sure that
that was Dick Wilson. In the early part of the evening, I was dispatched to the commissary office, with
an order for blankets. This was the very opportunity for which I was seeking, and I went to the office
at once, and produced my order. He immediately
wrote another order, and handed it to me, saying,
"' This, Mr. Hamilton, will procure them for you.'
"I was startled by that voice, and the familiarity




FLYING FROM TEMPTATION.          359
with which my name was called, and I said at once,'Is this my old friend Dick Wilson.'
"'Yes, Frank,' he replied,' this is all that misfortune and the rumseller has left. I have had a hard
time since we parted.'
"'But, Dick, what brought you here?'
"'The same that will drive many another poor
fellow here, and which will make him anxious to give
away his life, has brought me here —I mean the RUMSELLER-the licensed pest of civilization!'
" He asked me if I could spend the evening with
him; to which I readily assented. After making
the necessary arrangements for the comfort of those
in my charge, I returned to the office, and at his request, we directed our steps towards a retired place on
the bank of the river. Yes, Kate, there I was, on the
banks of the Rio Grande, arm in arm with as noble a
heart as ever beat, and as we had often been in earlier
days. How  differently situated!  Then his hopes
were promising and his heart light. Now he was oppressed with sadness.
"' Here, Frank,' said he,  is a spot to which I have
been in the habit of resorting almost nightly; and
there is something in its very loneliness which endears
it to me.'
"We seated ourselves, and after a pause in which I
saw that he was making an effort to control his feelings, he said, —




360              DICK WILSON.
"' Frank, you did not expect to meet me here, in
this situation."
"' Dick,' said I,'what has led you to this step?'
A"'Ah! Frank, I cannot lead you through the terrific process by which I have been moulded into what
you see before you. You see how much I am changed;
and while I cannot now help it, I am far from being
insensible to the fearful fact.'
"He related to me the severe misfortunes of his
family, as well as his difficulties with Judge L,
and his departure from the village of B ——, and then
continued,"'But, oh! Frank, I did not intend to fall. I was
disappointed-broken down-cast to the very earth.
I knew the strength of those hopes which were clinging to me; but in that hour, when, to me, my path
seemed to be hopelessly dark, and the sun of my life
seemed to have gone down to rise no more, I availed
myself of the rumseller's consolation    Ah! yes, it
was then, in an hour of mental unconsciousness, that
I fell —I am afraid, hopelessly and forever! And, 0
God! in that delirious moment, what did I entail upon
myself and weeping, heart-broken innocence, in the
persons of those who were spared in the wreck of my
home? Ah! yes, I am sure that if this temptation
had not been in my path, that I could have survived
the shock of that disappointment; but it was in my
path, and I fell, as thousands have fallen. From the




FLYING FROM TEMPTATION.         861moment I tasted the poisoned chalice, I felt the beginning of certain ruin. Sometimes I had hope, but
it was dim and indistinct. I knew not where to turn
or whither to fly, and bade farewell to those whom
every moment since I have loved better than my life.
Since that time I have been a wanderer, without any
object; nor could I picture to you the scenes and the
sufferings through which I have passed. Often as I
have seen the slave dragging out his weary life, have
I wished that I had been born a slave I I have wished that the power of thought could be silenced within
me, and that I might forget myself in the grave.
After wandering about from place to place, and finding my health rapidly declining, it occurred to me
that if I should leave the United States, I might, after
all, recover. It was not without an effort that I expatriated myself. It was not because I did not love my
native land, but because I felt- that the rumseller had
the power to mould my destiny as he pleased, and lead
me through the broad streets of my native land to the
base of his sacrificial altar! Oh! Frank, talk about
slavery!  The subjugation of the body is absolute
tyranny; but it cannot compare with the absolute and
cruel subjugation to which the rumseller reduces his
victims. It stings sharper, deeper, than the driver's
whip; for it strikes both the body and the mind, and
with maddened fury drives them together into the
cheerless vortex of desolation I I sometimes hope to
P




362              DICK WILSON.
withstand, in this half-civilized region, the few temptations which beset me; but at home they were so
constant and so strong, I could not resist -them. This
is all that brought me here; but if I must die by his
hand, I would rather be at home. I came here only
to avoid a power sanctioned by Americacn law, and
which is the most despotic of any on earth. Five
weeks ago I was standing on the wharf at New
Orleans, looking with anxiety at a vessel which was
preparing to leave for this place. I was without
money and without friends, surrounded by strangers,
and sixteen hundred miles from the place of my nativity. I knew not what to do; for in the streets of
that city I had seen hundreds whose appearance
showed them to be forlorn and friendless as myself,
and most of whom, by their countenances, indicated
that they were familiar with crime. At that moment
I was trying to solve a fearful problem. I was deciding between two evils, which to me appeared of
equal magnitude: whether to live and permit the
rumseller to exercise his authority over me, or to commit suicide.'
"'Why, Dick,' said I,' surely you did not think of
that!'
"'Yes I did, Frank. You may think it strange,
but I tell you, the rumseller can make one think and
do almost anything. I found myself, before I was
aware of it, at the door of the custom house, and still




FLYING FROM TEMPTATION.         363
undetermined as to which would be the best for me.
I was standing here, when a gentleman came to my
side, who, for some moments, eyed me intently. To
me, his gaze was exceedingly painful. I did not know
but he might be a civil officer, who was in search of
suspected persons, and perhaps was about to fix upon
me, as one having the appearance of a criminal. I
knew that I had the rumseller's marik upon me; and
among strangers, I was aware that this mark was fatal.
They generally think-but they misjudge when they
do so-that the victim is as accomplished in wickedness as the destroyer. Even in my forlorn situation,
I could not endure such a suspicion. I had slept in
the open air, on the banks of the Ohio and the Mississippi. I had gone for days without food, and this I
had endured; but to be suspected of crime, I could
not endure it; and immediately inquired,"'Do you see anything about me, sir, to call for
such close observation?'
"'If I am not mistaken,' Be replied,'your name is
Wilson.'
"' That is my name, sir,' I answered,' but where
have you seen me?'
"'I saw you,' he replied,' on the evening of the day
on which your hopes were crushed. I never saw you
before, nor since, until this moment; but I should
have known you in any place, or under any circumstances. I see, Mr. Wilson, what your misfortunes




364               DICK WILSON.
are, and anything that I can do to alleviate them, will
be done cheerfully. What do you want to do?'
"''I want,' I replied,'first of all, to escape the
temptations of the rumseller; for, until I can do this,
it is in vain for me to attempt to do anything.'
"' I am sorry,' he replied,'to see you under such
influences.'
"' I told him that I believed that it was utterly impossible to escape them, and that I thought it would
be my best plan to go to Mexico-that possibly I
might be safer there.'
"' Then,' said he,'as your constitution is evidently
too feeble to go into the army, I think I can procure
you a situation in the commissary office, at Corpus
Christi.' After some conversation with a gentleman
named Nicholson, the business was immediately arranged, and a passage secured for me on board of the
vessel to which I had referred. Since that time, I have
been here; and while under other circumstances it
would afford me pleasure to see acquaintances, as it is,
I have tried to avoid it.
"' I knew you, Frank, as soon as you entered the
office, and saw, in a moment, that there was still someo
thing about me that you recognized; but I did not
think that you would be able to identify me, until
that young lieutenant called me Dick. Ah! my friend,
you cannot tell what burning recollections your appearance aroused within me, and yet, if you had not




FLYING FROM TEMPTATION.           365
recognized me, I think you would never have been
conscious that, in a land of strangers, you had been
in the same room with your fallen friend!'
"After we had conversed for some time about many
things, I asked him if he had given up all hope of recovering himself, to which he replied:
"'Oh no i Frank, I hope not; I think if I can endure this climate for three years, that I may then return to the United States with safety, and if it were
not for the rumseller, I should return to-morrow.'
Ad I found Dick kind, gentlemanly, and warm-hearted as ever. It was necessary for me, a few days after
this interview, to proceed to Fort Brown, and we
parted again, after I had obtained a promise from him
to write to me often.
"About a month after this time, I received a letter
firom him, dated' Charity Hospital, New Orleans,' in
which he informed me of his situation. He said that,
finding himself unable to endure the climate, and being assured that he must die, he was anxious, if possible, to reach his mother, and die in her arms; but
that on landing, it was necessary for him to be taken
to the hospital, where he expected to die. He concluded by saying,' Frank, if you live to return home,
I have a dying request-search out my poor mother,
and tell her all you know of me.'' I think it was about six weeks after the date of
this letter, that I was sent to Corpus Christi, on busi



366              DICK WILSON.
ness; and just as I was about to leave, a gentleman
said to me,' You can tell Rough and Ready that there
is a regiment of volunteers from Louisiana, under command of General Gaines, expected to land here today.'
" My return was not urgent, and I determined to
wait and see them; and sure enough, in a few hours
the vessels came in sight, and soon were near enough
to distinguish the gray uniforms with which the decks
seemed to be crowded. Here, to my surprise, I met
Dick Wilson again. He was feeble, and hardly able
to bear the weight of his musket. His spirits were
low, and conversational powers, which were of the
first order, seemed to have left him almost entirely. I
did everything in my power, during that day and the
next, to rouse him, but I found it impossible to do so.
We parted again, hoping soon to be brought together
by the concentration of all the troops in Mexico into
one army. This, however, did not occur; and I soon
learned that some illegality in the formation of the
regiment, under Gen. Gaines, had caused it to be disbanded, and that many of the men who composed it
had returned to New Orleans.
"Here, again, I lost all traces of Dick, and although
I inquired often of those who were continually coming into the service, I could find no one who knew
anything of him. I could not forget him; and while
I sympathized with him, and wept over his condition,




FLYING FRO~M TEMPTATION.          867
I felt that his fall was inevitable. I knew the rumseller's power over his victim, when once he had succeeded in making a beginning; but, Kate, until I met
Dick Wilson, I never fully realized his complete despotism! Here I had an opportunity to see it. I knew
him before the rumseller had touched his constitution,
his character, or his hopes. We had read Horace together —together we had admired the beauties of Longinus, and wept over the death of Socrates. In all
the pleasures and duties of a student's life, we had
been together, and but a few years —short and changeful-had passed away, since on the same platform we
had received the parting benediction of the venerable
president. Then he was everything that was noble;
now he appeared to be hanging indifferently from the
frowning precipice which overlooks the chasm of despair!
"When I met him first, at Corpus Christi, I had
hope; but when I met him in the Louisiana regiment,
I saw the unmistakable impressions of the rumseller's
work, fostering a disease which was preying deeper than
any other upon his constitution. I had given him up,
and expected to see his face no more."




CHAPTER XXII.
THE LOST FOUND.
"Fly from the tempter,
Who has led thee astray
From the high aspirations
Of life's early day:
Ere the hopes of thy mother
Have faded in gloom,
And her gray hairs, dishonored,
Are laid in the tombh"
FRANK had related the circumstances under which,
fbr the third time, he had met with Dick Wilson in
Mexico, as well as the hopes which he still entertained
for his safety.
" Do you really think," said the good Mrs. Hamilton, who was impatient with interest, "that he has
landed here?"
6" Oh I am  sure of it," said Frank.  I'I saw him
embark for New York. I'll show you in the morning-mind if I don't, mother."
"' God be praised 1" said the tender-hearted old lady.
6' We may be able to restore him to his heart-broken
mother yet, and this will be like giving life to the
dead.  My son, if you find him  in the morning, you
must bring him  home with you.  Have his trunk
brought directly here."




THE LOST FOUND.             369
"His trunk!" replied Frank. " You mean his knapsack."' Well, Frank, bring all he has, be it much or little,
and we will induce himn to remain with us as long as
possible, and we will try every way to strengthen his
good resolution."
The hour was late, and Frank found it impossible to
answer satisfactorily half the inquiries of Kate, and in
a pleasant way he said to her:
"I would advise you to exercise your usual caution,
and not to fall in love with Dick before you see him.
You may be wonderfully disappointed. And pointing to the portrait, he said: "You must not base
your judgment on that, for he is greatly changed."
In the morning, Mrs. Hamilton, Kate and Frank
were all in a hurry; and even Mr. Hamilton, who was
remarkable for regularity, betrayed some slight wandering from his usual course. When the time for
family prayer arrived, Mr. Hamilton offered up a fervent petition in Dick's behalf, and prayed that the
same God who had restored the long lost Joseph to
his father, would also restore this young man to his
widowed mother.
"Now," said Mrs. Hamilton to Frank, as they were
seated at the breakfast table, "do you think you can
find him this morning?"
"' I think I can, mother, if he is in the city. He
may have gone to Virginia with Col. C —-; but I do
P*             24




370              DICK WILSONo
not think that he has yet been able to leave. I am
glad, mother, that you are so much interested in him,
for it too often falls to the lot of those who are unfortunate, that they meet only indifference and inattention."
" I am interested, my son, to save, if it be possible,
Richard Wilson. The mother, the brother, and the
sister, who are now weeping for him, did not willingly surrender him to the rumseller. If we can now restore him safe to his dear ones, it will be doing a work
for God and humanity. That is what we live for, and
no nobler end can we hope to attain."
After breakfast, Frank was soon in the street, making his way towards the Irving House, where, he had
heard, Col. C(    had taken rooms, and where he expected to find Dick, if he was still in the city.
"Who knows," thought he to himself, "what may
be the result of all this? I thank my parents that
they loved me and watched for me more than for the
vanities of life. What I am, I owe chiefly to their judicious care. In three years I have met Dick Wilson
in almost all imaginable situations of suffering, and far
from home. We have sat down together to talk about
the past, and then he spoke with a mournful eloquence of its melancholy recollections. I have heard
him say, while sitting under the shade of the same
ancient elms where Cortez is said to have offered his
human sacrifices, that the rumseller had so transform



TIlE LOST FOUND.            371
ed him, that he felt more at home on the soil which had
drunk the blood of thousands of semi-barbarians, at
the hand of the Spanish robber, than he did in his native land."
With such thoughts as these revolving in his mind,
Frank Hamilton entered the Irving House, and going
at once to the register, found the names of Col. C —and Richard Wilson registered together. This was a
matter of rejoicing to him, and he hastened at once
to their room. As he entered, Dick rose to greet
him, and Col. C~ could not help admiring the pure
friendship which these young men manifested for each
other. Frank had formed a slight acquaintance With
Col. C    in Mexico, and consequently did not need
an introduction. When he entered the room, the colonel
and Dick were engaged in conversation, which had
been laid aside merely for the time, and the greeting
over, Col. C-  continued:
s "Mr. Hamilton, I have just been making a proposition to Mr. Wilson, to accompany me to Virginia,
and there enter upon the practice of law. I have
offered to him, if he will consent to do so, every facility, both in money and influence, which may be necessary for his success; and allow me to say, that if the
beauty of our lovely country is marred by the existence of slavery, it is not like yours, blackened by the
foul curse of alcohol, which does more to blight and




872              DICK WILSON.
blacken, to waste and wither, to degrade and stultify,
than slavery in its most revolting form."
"Frank," said Dick, " I have almost made up my
mind to go and try my fortune in the' Old Dominion.'
What do you think of it?"
6 Do you think, Dick, that you will be better off
there?"
"4 Yes, I should not be tempted there as I am here,
and if I can be sure of that, I would like to go."
After a moment's pause, he continued, with much feelIng: "I may as well go there as anywhere. There
are for me some precious spots upon the earth. There
amre graves I should like to visit; and there are living
pnes, the sight of whom, if it were only once more,
would gladden my heart; but where they are I do
not know."
" My dear friend, death has not disturbed the little
flock, They are all living and well."
"H ave you seen them? Do you know where they
are?  Who has seen them?  Tell me, for heaven's
sake," said he, while intense agitation was visible in
his countenance.
4' My sister has seen them within a few weeks, and:they were well."
"' Is it possible? Well, thank God, I may then see
them again. This is more than I expected. Frank,
~yon have always been to me the harbinger of good."
For a moment he was silent, but this unexpected




TEE LOST FOUND.              373
intelligence overcame him so suddenly, that he could
not restrain his tears. At length he continued:
"' Col. C —, I had almost concluded to go with
you to Virginia, but I must give it up. I must go at
once to those dear ones who are looking for me.
They know in all probability, that I went to Mexico,
and as the living are all returning, they will be looking for me too. Oh, yes  I can almost see the wild
anticipations of their hearts, and feel the clasp of their
arms about my neck. I am happy in the thought,
that yet the warn breath of my mother may dissipate
the fevered phantoms of my brain. Ah! but when
they see me they will weep, and those are fearful tears
which a mother pours out when compelled to look upon
the victim of a rumseller in the person of her son."
"Richard, your mother is not looking for you."
"Ah  and has she cast me off? If she knew the
sufferings through which I have passed, she would
never do it."
"Oh, no, she has heard, and believes, that you were
killed at the battle of Monterey."
" Then, I must undeceive her at once. Col. C —you have been my friend. You have watched over
me as a brother since the day I entered your command, in the city of Wheeling, until this day, and if
it were not for the intelligence which Mr. Hamilton
has brought me, I should go with you; but as it is, I
cannot."




374              DICK WILSON.
"Mr. Wilson,"' said Col. C —-,    I am glad to see
you manifest such feeling. It increases my friendship
for you and my interest in you. It is best for you,
however, to look at this matter free from all excitement; for you are now placed in a position in which
you ought to act with remarkable caution. When
you go home and have seen those who are still dear
to you, what will you do? They and you are poor,
and when the burst of joy and sorrow, which will attend your meeting, is over, will it not be succeeded
by the cheerless vision of poverty rising before you,
to chill you into despair again, and drive you to the
rumseller's den? If you will go with me, I will provide you a home for your family, and the means to
bring them to Virginia; and there, surrounded by new
associations, and men who would not strive with each
other to excel in making the child a drunkard, you
will be comparatively safe."
" You are too kind, my friend," said he, with evident emotion.
"Never mind that, Wilson," replied Col. C —,
"for kindness, if it is genuine, always brings its reward. I will do it cheerfully, as for a brother."
"Then, Col. C —, I will go. I would go to the
ends of the earth to escape the ruin which I constantly fear."
Frank admired the noble Virginian, who, although
a soldier, had still a heart filled with rich and gener




THE LOST FOUND.            375
ous sympathy, prompting him to offers of kindness,
which would have been as readily fulfilled as they
were cheerfully made. He, too, felt that he had a
claim, and that it would be necessary for him to institute it at once, and accordingly, in the presence of
Col. C -, he informed Dick that he had expected
him to spend a few days with him before leaving the
city, giving him to understand that it was the particular request of the family that he should do so. It was
known to Frank that Col. C —- was about to repair
to Washington city in a few days, and it was soon
agreed that Dick could spend a few weeks in New
York previous to leaving for Virginia. These arrangements being made, Dick stepped into another room to
make preparations for accompanying Frank to his
home, and while he was absent the colonel said:
"' Mr. Hamilton, I feel very much interested in that
young man, and would be willing to do anything within the range of possibility to save him. If he can be
reformed, there is no honorable situation in life which
he would not grace, and no position which he would
not adorn."
At this moment Dick entered the room, genteelly
dressed, and Frank involuntarily exclaimed:
"Why, I declare, you are very much improved
in appearance, and bring' old times' vividly to -my
mind."
As soon as they were fairly in the street, Dick said:




376              DICK WILSON.
" Is it possible, Frank, that your sister has seen my
family? And what must she think of me?"
" Yes, my dear friend, she has mingled her tears
with those who love you, and understands the cause
of your being brought to this sad state. You need
have no fears, Dick, in entering my father's house, for
they will receive you kindly, and do everything in
their power to make you happy."
The conversation continued, and before Frank was
aware of it, his home stood before him. They entered, and Frank, after seating his friend in the parlor,
left him, and went to the room where his mother and
Kate were. As soon as Mrs. Hamilton saw her son,
and perceived that there was no unusual expression
of joy in his countenance, she said:
" Ah! my son, it is as I expected: either death or
the rumseller has anticipated you. You didn't find
him.  Well, I was fearful that something had happened to him."
"Well, mother," said Frank, "you are not often
mistaken, I confess; but you are this time. I have
fortunately found him; and he is now waiting you in
the parlor."
"Is it possible?" said Mrs. Hamilton and her daughter in the same breath.
"Come and see," said Frank.
They entered the parlor, and Dick rose to meet
them. His appearance was much better than they had




THE LOST FOUND.              377
anticipated, for they expected to have seen more distinctly the ravages of dissipation.
"We are glad to see you, Air. Wilson," said Mrs.
Hamilton, "and happy to make you welcome to our
home. There," said she, pointing to his portrait, which
Kate on that morning had replaced in the parlor, "for
several years you have ornamented our parlor, and
we hope now that you will feel yourself surrounded
by the freedom of home."
" Thank you, Mrs. Hamilton," said Dick, and then
added, as he looked at his portrait, and remembered
the -scenes through which he had passed,  "This is a
reminiscence of my better days."
Soon Mr. Hamilton caine in, and, without an introduction, gave him a shake of the hand which told the
cordiality with which he meet him more eloquently
than his lips could have done, and then said:
"'It seems to me, Mr. Wilson, that I have seen your
face before."
"Yes, sir, you have," said he; "when the troops
of the 11th regiment were landing a few days since,
you inquired of me concerning your son."
"' Upon my word," replied Mr. Hamilton, "it is so.
You ought to have made yourself known, and come
directly to my house."
" I had not permission to leave, until the reoment was disbanded, and, besides, the indisposition
of Col. C G, who has been a very warm friend




378              DICK WILSON.
of mine, made it necessary that I should remain with
him."
"Yes, yes, Mr. Wilson, always be grateful, and
never forsake a friend in the time of his need.  I
would have been very glad to have had the Colonel
here. Do you suppose he would be able to come and
spend the evening with us?"
"I think he would be able and happy to do so," replied Dick.
Then,' said the old gentleman, with his unpretending suavity of manner, " we must have him here."
Orders were immediately issued to have the carriage in readiness. It required no lengthy argument to
persuade the Colonel to accompany them, and he was
soon in the carriage with them. He was manifestly
in feeble health; but yet, according to the true Virginian style, he did his part to make everything pleasant, and when he entered Mlr. Hamilton's house, he
seemed at once to be at home. The evening was
spent in hearing and rehearsing the life-like pictures
of the scenes in which these young men had mingled,
and the conflicts through which they had passed,
with a continuous application from Mr. Hamilton, of
the goodness of God, in saving their lives, and bringing them back to their native land.
After tea, Kate favored them with some excellent
music, and to those young men it seemed to bo doubly
sweet, since for several years they had heard no music




THE LOST FOUND.             379
but the shrill music of the march, or the startling
clangor of the battle-field, as it rose toward heaven,
the harbinger of blood. At the request of Dick, she
played with remarkable effect, "The Dead at Monterey," and immediately followed it with the cheering
strains-" Home, home again from a foreign shore."
When the last echoes of those strains were dying
away, the glistening tear was seen in every eye-they
could not be hidden, for they were the truth-telling
oracles of their hearts, and told how the heart felt at
the kindling recollections of home.
When the evening had been spent and enjoyed to
a late hour, the colonel rose to depart, and thanking
them for their kindness, said pleasantly," Miss Hamilton, I am going to leave Mr. Wilson
in your care for a few days, and hold you responsible
for his safe delivery in Virginia."
" Very well," said Kate, blushing, "I will try to
have him delivered to you safely."
Dick had spent a number of days with the family,
and our hero could not doubt the genuineness of the
spirit which he observed to be the governing principle
of everything about him.
One day he ventured to inquire of Kate, in reference to his family, and the circumstances in which she
had found them. She replied to his inquiries in a
frank and feeling manner, and added," Mr. Wilson, they will be rejoiced to see you. I




380              DICK WILSOX.
would like to share in the joys of that meeting, and I
have been thinking of making a proposition to Frank,
that we would accompany you home."
Dick was nearly overcome —" Home! home!" he
ejaculated, "what a spell-what a subduing power
there is in that word! But as yet, I must not see that
spot-my exile is not completed. Oh! for a light to
illuminate the darkness, and strength to overcome the
perils which yet lie between myself and my mother's
fond embrace. My way has been dark and gloomy,
almost as the valley and shadow of death. I am going
to Virginia. Col. C —  has made me an offer which
I could not possibly refuse."
This, to Kate, was evidently unexpected, and, although unintentionally, she betrayed much surprise
at his decision.
"Miss Hamilton," said he, " I am satisfied that it is
best for me go."
"'Perhaps you are right."
"I think I am," he replied, "inasmuch as it will
afford me an immediate opportunity, not only to find
a situation for myself but also for my little family,
and this ought to be with me the great consideration."
After spending two weeks very pleasantly in their
society, and feeling renewed in health and spirits, he
intimated his intention on the next day to leave for
Virginia. The family had become attached to him,
and this announcement seemed to come prematurely.




THE LOST FOUND.            381
They were loth to part with him, and if it had not
been for the pressing nature of his engagement, he
would not have gone; but he was sure that the offer
made to him was prompted by kindness, and he did
not feel at liberty to neglect it. During his stay, the
whole family had done everything in their power to
strengthen him against the insidious snares of the rumseller. Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton had spoken to him as
they would have done to a son, whom they tenderly
loved, and were anxious to save from the most dread
ul calamity; and Frank and Kate had done everything which they could have done for a brother, and
they felt themselves to be richly repaid in the lively
manifestations of gratitude, which were too plain to be
mistaken, in every look and action of Dick.
The time of his departure came, and with tears they
bade each other good-bye, and in doing so, Mr. Hamilton put a purse into his hand, saying-" God bless
and keep you my dear young friend; may you be able
to withstand all temptation, however disguised. Oh I
beware of the wine cup;" and Dick was again a wanderer, in search of a retreat from the luring tempter.




CHAPTER XXIII.
THE EFFECT. -THE CAUSE.-THE REMEDY.
"Ah! Misery, how I feel thy power I
Long have I labored to elude thy sway,
But'tis enough, for I resist no more."
THE destiny of the individual is often irrevocably
fixed, who has formed a relish for the intoxicating
cup. With him it is usually true,
"That one false step forever blasts his fame."
Mr. Hamilton greatly feared that this would prove
true in regard to Wilson, and that, goaded on, as he
constantly was, by the promptings of an insatiable
appetite, he would be very likely to fall into the snares
so thickly set in his way.
" I regret," said he to his family, as Dick Wilson
left, " that there are so many dram shops scattered all
over the land. But for these, this young man, with
his firm resolutions to reform, would have little dfficulty in effecting it.  But as it is, he is constantly
tempted to drink, go where he may; and however
firm his purpose, it will be marvellous indeed if he
long adheres to it."




THE EFFECT. —THIE CAUSE. —TE REMEDY. 383
"Father," said Kate, "I do not think so now. I
had many pleasant conversations with him during
his stay with us, and I am sure he will be able to withstand the temptations of those men who had nearly
accomplished his ruin."
" I wish, my child," replied Mr. Hamilton, "that I
was-sure of it; but I am not."
"Don't you think, father," said Kate, "that he
wishes to escape?"
"Of that, my daughter, there can be no doubt.
All, no matter how degraded, who have become addicted to intemperance, regret it, and in their sober
moments often weep bitterly over the desperation of
their condition. They would abstain, but cannot.
Their resolutions are strong enough, but they have
not the power to carry them out. This I consider to
be the case with Wilson. He wishes, he hopes, he
may even be determined to reform; but he is not master of himself. His perverted taste, his burning thirst
for the destroying beverage when excited by its presence, will overcome the calm teachings of reason and
judgment, and he is, I fear, destined to be their slave.
Yes, I consider his situation one of imminent peril,
and the chances are a thousand to one against him.
If he escape, his life must be a constant struggle.
His watchfires must never go out, nor, for one moment, must the sentinel leave his post."
For many days after this young man left Mr. Ham



384              DICK WILSON.
ilton's house, he was the subject of their daily conversation, and his ability to withstand temptation was
thoroughly canvassed. Kate invariably maintained
that she believed him to be beyond the rumseller's
power, and often did she speculate upon the nature
of the happiness which would visit Mrs. Wilson's lonely and cheerless dwelling, when tidings, as from the
grave, should be borne to her, that the lost was found
-the erring reclaimed-the son saved! Gradiually
but reluctantly, the cherished hopes of that family
grew fainter and fainter. A month had passed away,
and not a line from Wilson had yet been received,
and all but Kate seemed forced to the conclusion that
again he had fallen.
One morning Frank entered the room where Kate
and her mother were sitting, and laid on the table an
open letter, saying as he did so, with as much calmness as possible" That is from Dick Wilson."
"I knew he would stand firm," said Kate, while a
flash of joy passed over her features.
"Read it," said Frank.
Kate took up the letter, and in an instant the truth
flashed upon her mind, and laying it upon the table,
she exclaimed —'" Is it possible?" and left the room in
tears. At the request of Mrs. Hamilton, Frank read
to her the letter, which was as follows:




THE EFFECT.-THE CAUSE.-THE REMEDY. 385
"' Dear Franck: The rumseller has triumphed again,
and I have fallen hopelessly beneath his stroke-fallen, to rise no more. They have made this poor life
of mine an eventful one. You and your dear family
have been very kind to me. You have tried to save
me, but ah! in vain. A few years have made a great
change in my character and destiny, such as I never
anticipated. You knew me when my prospects in
life were enviable, and you met me in the land of
strangers, and there saw my misery, and you have
known how I struggled against the ruin which beset
me. I am passing away rapidly. I feel it bitterly.
I had a constitution which for a time defied excesses,
but at last it has given way, and now lies in ruin.
I had hoped to look once more into my mother's face,
and see her smile. I thought that once again I might
be permitted to pronounce the names of brother and
sister in the presence of those who gather with their
griefs to my mother's side. That hope is dissipated.
forever. Oh! how I have thought of them, and longed for them. I have sat down by the camp-fire, on
the plains of Mexico, to think of them when every
eye, save that of the sentinel, was closed, and enjoyed
sweet pleasure in the anticipation of a return.
" Ah that hope will never be realized; for its last
green leaf has withered and died, in the bleak wastes of
my heart. Oh! it is sad to be a wanderer from home and
its joys; but it is sadder yet to feel the burning thirst
Q             25




886              DICK WILSON.
which consumes me, and to be powerless to resist its
importunities. Oh I Frank, how often do I wish that
I could commence anew the journey of life-that I
could only be free from the snare which is leading
me so rapidly to ruin. I now see the emphatic force
of those truths which I derided at the time-that for
the youth, or the young man, there is no safety, unless
he inscribes upon his banner the motto,' Touch not,
taste not, handle not.' If I had done this, before the
cursed taste was formed, I should have been spared
the bitter pangs which I have been doomed to suffer.
But, unfortunately for me, I thought that the exhilarating effect of wine, so far from being injurious, was
positively beneficial. Thiis was the sentiment in my
father's family, and of the circle in which I moved in
earlier life; and to this I owe the bitter scourge which
now lashes me with such relentless fury. I never
idrank to intoxication until that fatal night, after my
rejection at the village of B —-—. Yet I must say, that
after taking the resolution, upon the death of my father, to stop drinking, I had constantly felt an almost
irrepressible desire to continue a practice, the influence of which I knew not, until I sought to discontinue it. I had supposed that I could stop at any time,
and without any difficulty; but no one can tell what a
struggle I have had, save those who have been similarly situated. I have resolved, and re-resolved that I
would never again touch the fatal glass; but when




TH:E EFFECT.-THE CAUSE. —-TE REMEDY. 387
my eye rested upon it, and it was everywhere in my
way, I was fired with such a perfect phrenzy of desire, that I could not resist. Frank, you will, I doubt
not, think of me often; but I hope you will not be too
severe upon my memory. Remember the causes of
my ruin. Though I greatly erred in closing my ears
to the kindly warnings which were given me, and in
suffering myself to be borne thoughtlessly along by
the social influences around me; yet I must plead in
extenuation of my guilt, the great force of those influences, and my ignorance at the time, of the effect
which they were producing. My fondness for society,
and the place where I sought its enjoyment, laid the
foundation of my ruin. That was done, though I did
not know it, before I was eighteen years of age. The
DRINKING SALOON, oh, that such a place had never
existed —' that was the rocke on which I split;' and the
thought of its effect upon me is so paralyzing, that I
can only add, that this is probably the last that you
will ever hear of your early and grateful friend,
"RICHARD WILSON."
When Mr. Hamilton came in, the letter was handed to him, and he perused it carefully. It was evident
that he was not disappointed in the result; indeed, he
would have thought it miraculous if this young man,
under the circumstances, had triumphed, but with
such a conviction pressing upon his mind, he did not




388               DICK WILSONo
say, " It is no use to try-it won't do any good." But
his was the language of the freeman, the Christian,
and the philanthropist:
s" I am not disappointed," he said; "6 this is what I
feared, and just what will be found true in ninety-nine
out of every hundred similar cases. While we should.
do what we can to restore those who are already fallen, we should, at the same time, remember, that- in
the case of the intemperate, 6 an ounce of prevention is
worth many pounds of cure;' and if we expect success
to crown our efforts, we must seek the causes, and find
and correct them, and the effects will of course cease.
I have long been thoroughly impressed with the conviction, that if we should strike out of existence all the
tippling houses of the land, that we should then have
reached the fountain; and its streams, numerous and
polluting as they now are, would be dried up thoroughly and perpetually.  To effect this, stringent enactments are necessary, and I look forward with confidence to the time when the horrors of intemperance
will be matters of history rather than the daily observation of all our citizens."




CiH APTER XXIV,
TsHaE bMIsSION OF LOVE,
"For the poor make no new friends,
But oh, they love the better far,
The few our Father sends.'
THE letter which imparted to the Hamilton family
the intelligence of Dick Wilson's fall, brought also a
smarting pang to each of their hearts; and gave to
them a new illustration of the entire impotence of the
best resolution, in contending with the temptations
with which the rumnseller besets the path of his victims.
They had hoped-fondly hoped, that those erring
feet had been turned effectually from  the path to
ruin, and that he, in whose welfare they were so deeply interested, might yet be borne a victor to the
threshold of his mother's door, and enter it again,
amidst those mingling emotions of love and sadness
which always hail the wanderer's return.
They were disappointed, however, and Dick Wilson
had fallen again into the hands of an unrelenting enemy, whose cry is, give, GIVE, GIVE!
One evening, soon after the arrival of this letter,
Mr. lHamilton's family were assembled around their




390               DICK WILSON.
quiet fireside, to talk over matters and arrange plans,
in which the future comfort of Mrs. Wilson and her
family could be secured.
"' Something must be done," said Mr. IE., with his.
accustomed cheerfulness of manner, "for the happiness of these suffering, yet, in this matter, sinless
ones; who, to our knowledge, must now cease to
hope, and who can expect nothing but sorrow in the
future history of their son and brother. God send the
day speedily when an enlightened and correct public
sentiment, shall frown this horrid business of selling
liquid poison, into the pit of darkness, whence it had
its origin!"
Mr. Harmilton had just introduced the subject to his
listening and delighted family, when Mr. W ——, a
princely rum importer of the city, was announced by
the servant.
"Show him into this room," said Mr. IT., whose orders were immediately obeyed.
After a few commonplace remarks, this gentleman,
with unusual affability, said to Mr. I., " I came in,
sir, to borrow of you five thousand dollars. I have
made a very large purchase this afternoon, at a forced
sale, of an entire cargo of the best foreign liquors.
In fact, I suppose I got them at less than half their
value. It's a fine speculation."
"I cannot accommodate you, sir," said Mr. Hamilton, frankly.




THE MISSION OF LOVE.          891
e Well," said Mr. W -, a little confused by the
unexpected reply, " I thought that you would be as
likely to have that amount of money on hand as any
other person, and I knew that if such were the fact I
could get it."
"' You are mistaken, sir,-I have the money, and
if you proposed to make any honorable investment,
you should have it without a word; but into such a
channel as you propose to put it, not a dollar of my
money shall ever go, with my knowledge and consent. I am sorry, sir, that you do not know me bet.
ter."
"'Ah! very well, sir-no harm done, of course1"
replied Mr. W ——;   but I can't, for the life of me,
see why you should be so particular on this subjects
This, sir, is purely a matter of business, and I should
like to know what law could hold you accountable?"' The law of God, sir-a law which neither you
nor myself can violate with impunity. Ah I sir, the
record of many a demijohn, cask, and barrel which
you have sent out, and in which communities have
been deluged with misery, will meet you in judgment.
You say that you cannot see why I should be so particular on this subject. I think I can place you in a
position where you can see, unless you are willingoly
blind.
"Can you, sir, look into the face of the dying drunk.
ard, whose hopes for earth and heaven your business




392               DICK WILSON.
has enveloped in the very pall of despair?-can you
look upon a reality of this kind without feeling that
you stand in intimate and active connection with a
business which is cursing humanity and defying Omnipotence? Oh  sir, I weep for that man who, in this
day, can continue thlis business; and who has so wellnigh given away as worthless the last redeeming element in human nature. Yes, I do pity the man who,
in reference to this fathemless and shoreless wickedness,
is pulseless and motionless amidst the palpitations of
an age trembling withl the footsteps of advancing
Justice.'"
Before this honest broadside of truth, the princely
rumseller cowered; annd soon Mr. Hamilton, relieved
of his presence, was alone with his f amily
"' Father,' said Kate, 6I'll go bail that man wil
never trouble you again, either for money or influence, to put into the liquor traffic,"
"; Yes, that's a fact father," said Frank,'; he understood youo It won't take him an hour or two, after he
arrives at home, to learn your position, and he can't help
butrespect you for your candor. Many men who make
the saine professions that you do, would have acted differently; and would have strained every point to quiet
their consciences and accommodate him; and then he,
with a rumseller's generosity, would have said to himself, and chuckled over it too, what a heartless hypocrite that marran is!"




THE lMISSION OF LOVE.          393
"My children," said Mr. Hamilton, "there is nothing
which these persons dread so much, and no agency
which so effectually paralyzes them, as an honest expression of opinion, maintained by corresponding action. Their work is the work of darkness-they shun
the light, and even now they tremble in anticipation
of the people's voice of retribution."'" Come, come," said Mrs. Hamilton,  this won't do,
this hour has been set apart for a sacred purpose, and
we must not permit the shadow of the rumseller to
darken it, and make us forget the labor of love which
we owe to that suffering family. It is now settled
that their hope is lost, and not a moment must be
wasted in sending them relief."
P"I will go," said Kate, "s and bring Eliza Wilson
home with me; and if she comes, I will promise to
love and treat her as a sister."
"' That won't do, my daughter," said Mrs. Hamilton,
" the family must not be broken up. How do you
think they could endure a parting of that kind? You
can't have my consent to that arrangement, Kate."
" Let me settle the difficulty," said Mr. Hamilton.' I am for having the whole family come, and remain
with us; we have plenty of room, and a good will in
the bargain."
"That removes the difficulty," said Frank, "' and
chimes with my notions exactly. I did everything
that I could for poor Dick, while I had an opportu



394:         -DICK WILSON.
nity, and so did you Kate:-Now let us show to his
afflicted family, that we really loved him., We have
room enough, and heart enough, to make them as
comfortable as they can be made in this world."
This was the very thing for which, from the day
Dick Wilson left their door, Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton
had been preparing; and it was a pleasure to them to
witness the cheerful spirit with which their children
concurred in the arrangement.
It was determined that, in a few days, Frank and
Kate should set out for the village of R, where
Kate had seen them a few months before, and extend
to them, and press them to accept, the invitation to accompany them to their city home.
They were intent upon their errand of mercy, and
at the appointed time they were on their way to R,
at the outskirts of which Mrs. Wilson resided. A few
hours' ride brought them to the place; and as they were
leaving the cars, Kate pointed out to Frank the house
in which she lived, and the antiquated grave-yard from
which she had previously made her observations.
They entered the hotel near the depat, when Kate
proposed to her brother that they should go up and'
take a seat on the balcony; where, free from interruption, they might have a few moments to themselves,
in thinking over the best way to introduce their delicate mission.
They were scarcely seated before their attention




TH1E MISSION OF LOVE.          895
was arrested by a small funeral procession which was
just entering the grave-yard. There were' but few in
that train, and. they principally women; and it was at
once plain, from  the handful of followers and the
uncovered coffin, that the tenant was one taken from
the humblest walks of life; and for whom there were
but few to mourn.
"Let us wait here," said Kate, "until that solemn
rite is over."
In the whole ceremony there was an unbecoming
haste, and soon the last shovel-full of earth was pressed upon the bosom of the sleeper; and all but two-a
little boy and a young woman-were on their way.from the Spot.
The two who still lingered by the side of that
grave, seemed to have no disposition to leave it-they
seemed to have laid in that cold, damp bed, a casket,
in which the light and the life of all their love and
hope had been treasured.
"I Ah 1" said Kate to her brother, whose eyes were
filled with tears, "whoever these sorrowing ones may
be, their hearts must be desolate indeed."
-At length they rose from the spot where they had
seated themselves, and placing a stone at the head,
and another at the foot of the grave, they tnrned
slowly away,
"Kate," said Frank, whose eyes were following
those stricken ones who, hand in hand, were just pass



396               DICK WILSOx.
ing out of the enclosure, "I thought that I had seen
the rites of sepulture in all their forms, and felt the
varied emotions which necessarily spring from them
-but I have been mistaken. I have seen the city
funeral, with imposing rites, of almost every class. I
have stood by, when a hundred of my countrymen
in a foreign land, mangled and torn by the havoc of
war, were thrown into a common grave; but they
never moved me as does that spectacle."
"See," said Kate, whose eye had been keeping pace
with the mourners, " they are entering Mrs. Wilson's
house, —my fears are realized-Eliza and little Harry
are the mourners, and they are alone in their grief
Let us go to them at once, and share with them the
sorrows of this bitter hour. HIow prophetic were her
words, when she said to me,' the sun of the coming
summner will shine upon the grave of the brokenhearted Mary Wilson 1' 9
A few moments brought them to the door, about
which the echoes of that sweet old song were lingering when first she entered it.  It was a November
day; and everything was chill and bleak without-a
fitting emblem of the hearts of those within that humble enclosure.
As they entered, they found the first room tenantless, and Kate at once led the way into a little apartment adjoining, and then the truth was read at a
glance, Mrs. Wilson was dead, and her two orphan




THE MISSION OF LOVE.           397
children, unconscious of the presence of any one, were
there alone in their grief. " My poor little brother,"
said Eliza, "what is to become of us now? Oh I how
our dear mother loved us, and how she struggled to
keep us with her! I  am afraid we must part now.
Oh how desolate has the rumseller's agency left us!"
"Fear not, sweet girl," was whispered in her ear
by the sympathetic Kate; and the mourner turned as
if an angel's voice had been commissioned to bring
consolation to their hearts.
There are scenes, the spirit and the melancholy beauty of which, will forever elude both the tongue and the
pen, and leave that description which would interfere
with their sanctity lame in the extreme-and we pass
this hour, in which broken hearts were made whole
again, by the angelic love of this noble girl.
The little effects of the orphans were soon arranged,
and having bowed together again by the grave of their
mother, they were ready to depart with their benefactors; and as soon as they entered Mr. Hamilton's house,
they felt themselves to be at home-a real home of
tenderness and love.
They had heard the story of their poor brother; and
knew that he was still a wanderer, tossed to and fro
by this curse of mankind. Through the tender sympathy of the family by whom they had been adopted,
they began to recover gradually-they soon became
reconciled and composed, and the tide of an amiable




398              DICK WILSON.
boyishness began to flow freely from the heart of little
Harry. On the cheek of Eliza, the rose which had
prematurely wilted, began to bloom for a second time,
with joy and love and peace.




ICHAPTEIR XXV.
THIE JOURiNEY AND ITS RESULTS.
"'Tis woven in the world's great plan,
And fixed by Heaven's decree,
That all the true delights of man
Should spring from sympathy."9
IT is a sad thing t6 turn from a new-made grave
even under the most consoling circumstances which
have ever hallowed such a spot; and it is all the more
so, when one feels that it contains the most sacred treasure of earth, and leaves to be shrined in the cenotaph
of the heart-the ever-dear name of mother.
From  such a scene as this, and with all the holy
feelings which pertain to it, Eliza Wilson and her
little brother turned with their crushed and bleeding
hearts, towards the home of the stranger; to mingle
again in such society as that to which they had. been
accustomed, before the spoiler brought death, desola.
tion, and misery to their door.
Light was sown for them in darkness, and it was
impossible that, in the society of Mr. Hamilton's family, they could long be strangers.  From the moment
they entered that house, their hearts were made to vi



400              DICK WILSON.
brate to the gentle touches of unmistakable love and
sympathy.
They had been there about two months, when Col.
C —-, of Virginia, visited New York, and although
the acquaintance was only that of an evening spent
with Mr. Hamilton's family, yet his visit was as welcome as that of an old friend. Six months in the
balmy atmosphere of his native State, had wiped from
his countenance the tinge which a soldier's life in
Mexico had given him.
They were delighted to see him, and extended at
once the hospitalities of their house during his stay in
the city.
The Colonel participated with much feeling in the
conversation over the history of poor Dick Wilson;
and the probability that he with whom he had spent
many pleasant hours in a strange land, was at that
moment at the mercy of the Americcn legalized rumseller / brought a tear to his eye.' You knew my brother once, did you, Col. Cm?"
inquired Eliza.
"I did, Miss Wilson; and when I saw him last in
this very room, and knew how his heart melted under
the influence of those sweet strains sung so tenderly
by Miss HI.,
Home, home again from a foreign shore,'
I thought that he was safe. I saw your brother, Miss
Wilson, at the battle of Cerro Gordo, in the advance




THE JOURNEY AND ITS RESULTSo       401
line, when seven thousand lancers Ivere dashing to the
charge. I saw him also in that triumphal procession, as it entered the gates, and planted the American
flag  on the parapets of the Montezumaso  Brave
young man-but now how fallen!  Strange that my
country-the American's country.-the exile's country'
-the world's home!-should permit this horrid work
to go on!
"' It has been to me, Miss Wilson, a matter of deep
regret, that I urged your brother to come to Virginiao
If I had not done so, you might have looked upon
him once more; still, I do not think he would have
been safe."
"Ah! sir," replied Eliza, "'I hope this will not
cause you any regTet. It was an act of generous kindness on your part, for which none are now left to
thank you, save myself and little brother. If he had
not fallen there, he might have fallen elsewhere.
These lures to ruin and death are filling every path;
so that there is scarcely a square mile in the land in
which temptations are not to be encountered, by just
such noble-hearted young men as Richard. Oh! if
rumsellers knew the character of those pangs with
which they are piercing the hearts of millions, they
surely would desist!"
" Ah! Miss Wilson,' replied the colonel, " you misread the hearts of a large majority of those depraved
men-they neither fear God nor regard man-the love
26




402               DICK WILSON.
of money is the prevailing, and the only sentiment in
their hearts, and left to their own choice in the matter, the Ethiopian will change his skin, before they
repent.  The only repentance for them  is a legal
one 1'"
In this short= conversation between Eliza and the
colonel, and to which Mr. Hamilton's family were auditors-there was a feeling of evident pleasure. It gave
them a deep insight into his character, and they admired the unequivocal orthodoxy of his sentiments
upon the great evil which then as now, presented the
mightiest obstacle in the way of civilization.
Col. C —-- was far from being insensible to the
worth of the family to whom, seemingly by accident,
he had been introduced, and after a stay of several
weeks, the greater part of which was spent in their
society, he returnedito his home.
One day Mr. Hamilton entered the room, where
Kate and Eliza were seated, and laying a letter on the
table, he said to Eliza, "Here, my dear, is a letter for
you."
"Can it be from my brother!" she quickly exclaimed.
" No, my child," said Mr. Hamilton, " you see it is from
P —; perhaps it may be from some old friend of your
family; open it, my dear, and read it."
She broke the seal, and found it to be from Mrs.
Livingston. It'was a kind, good letter-just such an
one as orphans would be likely to prize. After many




THE JOURNEY AND ITS RESULTS,    403
tender expressions of sympathy for them in the severe
loss which they had been'called to sustain, she informed them that Mr. Livingston had reclaimed from
the parlor of a fashionable rumseller of P-, the
fine portraits of her father and mother, which had
passed from their possession under the hammer of the
auctioneer.
" If we had these," she ejaculated, laying down the
letter, "then we would hdve the images of all our
dear loved ones now dead, but Ellen. Ah I would not
their possession console my stricken heart I
Mr. Hamilton took up the letter, and looking over its
contents said, with much tenderness; "yes, my sweet
girl, you shall have these; they are yours of right, and
they must be sent for immediately," and added, as he
left the room, "give yourself no uneasiness."
The next morning Kate and Eliza, and little Harry,
were together as usual, when Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton
entered, and commenced a conversation,"We have been thinking," said Mr. HI., c" that
it would be pleasant for you to visit P-; would
you like~to do so?'"
"Yes sir," replied Eliza, "I would like to visit that
place very much; but if I did, I must go at your expense, and that I cannot think of doing-you and
your dear family have been too kind already; I never
can repay you."
"IMy orphan child," said Mr. Hamilton, "speak




404              DICK WILSON.
not in this way. Your presence and the gladsome
heart of your little brother, more than repays us, every
day that you are with us. You must go, and Kate
and Frank shall go with you."
A" May I go too?" quickly inquired Harry, as he
fixed his full, inquiring blue eyes in the mild face of
Mr. Hamilton.'Yes, my dear little fellow," was the reply, "' you
may go too."
They at once agreed upon the time they should go; 
and while Frank was getting his business in order to
leave, Kate and Eliza were busying themselves in
making the necessary preparations for the journey,
which was expected to consume several weeks.
With Eliza, thoughts of the unforgotten past would
necessarily creep into her hours of preparation for a
contemplated journey, in which she expected to have
brought before her again in their vividness, the fearful scenes through which she knew none but the hand
of God could have sustained her; and sometimes she
ventured to hope that at least she might hear something of her brother.
The morning on which they set out for Pa was
a beautiful one, in the early part of September. The
trip was very pleasant, and each of them seemed to
enjoy it, and soon they found themselves at the place
of their destination.
As soon as it was possible, Frank called upon Mr.




TIEE JOURNEY AND ITS RESULTS.      408
Livingston at his counting-room, and informed him
that Miss Wilson and her little brother were in the
city.
"Is it possible?" said Mr. Livingston.
"Yes sir," said Frank, "they have become members of our family, and I have had the pleasure of accompanying them here on a visit."'Thank you —thank you, sir," said Mr. L. {"My
carriage will be at the hotel for you in half an hour;
all of the company must come.'
Frank had scarcely found his way back, when a
servant announced the carriage to be in waiting for
them. They all entered it, and were soon in the hospitable mansion of one of the most worthy families
of the city.
Mrs. Livingston inquired particularly of the later
history of the family. She spoke of Dick with much
tenderness, and as of one who, in all probability, was
in the grave. Eliza, in her turn, inquired for many of
those who were at one time intimate at her father's
house, and was answered that already a number of
them —ruined by the fashionable drinking customs of
the day-had gone down to the cheerless grave of the
drunkard.
Mrs. Livingston presented Eliza with the portraits
which had been wrung from them to liquidate the demands of rumsellers; and it made her young heart
beat again for joy, to look upon the dear faces of




406              DICK WILSON.
her departed parents;-they were always dear —now
they were priceless. They all together visited the
place where the dust of her father and sister was reposing. They lingered long but with a calm tranquilD
lity around that spot; then turned from that place which
had become the grave of their fondest and earliest
hopes, and where in their very childhood they saw
the openings of adversity's path.
When they had finished their visit in P-, and
enjoyed for a number of days the hearty welcome of
Mr. Livingston's family, they determined to visit the
village of B, to which place they arrived after a
pleasant jaunt. It was soon understood after their
arrival there, that they were interested in the history
of Dick Wilson-a name which in that village had
become a household word; and many, to their great
annoyance, gathered about them at the hotel, to know
who they might be, and if possible to find out their
business. Mr..Watson soon heard of them, and at
once hastened to make their acquaintance, as soon as
he met them and knew who they were, he claimed
them as his guests during their stay.
After a day spent in the society of each other, all
reserve, which would have prevented a proper enjoyment of the occasion, departed; and they were-as
was right they should be —free to converse in reference to those subjects which were of interest to them.
"Miss Wilson," said Mrs. Watson, Of yourself and




THE JOURNiEY AND ITN RESULTS.     407
your little brother I had heard poor Richard speak
with the tenderest affection. Oh! if you could have
seen the noble manner in which-as he often used to
say,'more for his dear ones than for himself'-he
contended with adversity, you would have witnessed
a giant struggle.
"This was an unfortunate place for your brotherthe rum influence was predominant-its emissaries were
everywhere; and just when he seemed to have reached
an eminence where he was safe, they sacrificed him.
Judge LI    and old Stevens planned and executed
that tragedy. Ah i yes; but Judge L — and Stevens have not escaped the watchful eye of Providence
-— for God has written on the uncaredfor grave of one,
and the whirling brain of the other,' Let their habitation be desolate.'
"Stevens is dead; and his death was of the most
miserable character.  Remorse and terror filled to
overflowing his last hours. His crimes were before
him, and the drover's fate was revealed in the midst
of one of his fearful paroxysms, upon which the stoutest heart could hardly bear to look. His confession
was full; he acknowledged that by his own hand Mr
Gilmore had been drugged into a sound sleep, and
then murdered and buried; and, in connection with
an individual already dead, that stone pile had been
raised upon the drover's grave.
"In the midst of his ravings, he was often heard to




408                DICK WILSON.
say,  Wilson, this is a remarkable case'-' Where did
this happen?' Again, he would call out to the gravedigger, as if he saw him opening that grave —' Jacob 
Jacob! for God's sake stop!' &c.
"He has left a miserable son, who is good for nothing but the commission of crime. It could not be
otherwise, for he was trained in vice; and although
he is yet a young man, I believe that every sentiment
of honor is erased from his being.
"1 Judge Lo was so criminated in the affair, by
the confession of Stevens, that he was obliged to leave
the country, and is now, we understand, a lunatic,
and his family reduced to poverty.  So, you see, justice, though sometimes slow, is always sure. Oh! Miss
Wilson, the last word I heard your brother utter, will
live in. my memory forever —' I can't tell where this
whirling brain may rest.' "
From this good friend, Eliza learned the history of
her brother's struggle and fall; and having met and
received the sympathy of many of his friends, they
were ready to proceed on their homeward journey
without interruption..
In making an inland tour through the country, they
were subject to frequent interruptions and detentions,
by reason of irregular conveyances, &c. After render
ing many thanks to the kind family of Dick's early
friends, the Watson family, they bade adieu. In a few
hours after their departure, they came to a place where




THE JOURNIEY AND ITS RESULTS.      409
it was necessary for them to leave the cars and take
to a canal packet, and in order to make this change,
several hours were necessarily spent.
They entered a hotel, and after partaking of some
refreshments, seated themselves together at a window
which overlooked the beautiful bosom of the Ohio.
At this moment, there appeared in full view a scene
which attracted their attention, and awakened their
deepest sympathies.- There was before them, moving
with slow and measured pace, two rough-looking boatmen, bearing in their arms in the direction of the
hotel, an invalid, who, to all appearance, was in the
last stages of a " quick consumption."
As they came nearer, they saw that he was a young
man; and Kate said to Eliza-" Poor fellow; he may
be one who is struggling with disease, and striving to
keep death at bay, that he may reach the home of his
childhood, and feel the warm breath of his mother
again, or the soothing hand of friends, before he dies."
"That is a sad thought," said Eliza; "but it may be
so. I am afraid his earthly pilgrimage is doomed to
terminate here. How hard it must be to die under
such circumstances!"
By this time they had entered the bar-room, and
Frank at once arose from his seat. He seemed to be
intensely agitated, and stepped at once into the hall,
closing the door after him as he did so.
He was standing near another door leading into the
R




410               DICK WILSON.
bar-room, which was partly open, but not sufficiently
so to give him a view of those who had just entered.
From where he stood, he had a full view of the landlord, who, with an air of wonderful importance, was
posted behind the bar.' Has he any money?" were the first words Frank
heard.
"I guess he hasn't," was the reply of one;' but then
he isn't able to go any farther."
"The devil he ain't!  Well, he'll have to go
farther. It's no part of a landlord's business, this
ain't. I can't afford to keep him a week or ten days.
and then bury him, and I won't do it either I Go to
the overseers of the poor, and if they will pay me, I'll
do it; and if they won't, then I won't."
" I Iam in a dying state," began the invalid, with a
tone hollow as the sepulchre itself. "I have vainly
endeavored to reach my home; but that last fond
hope is dead in my heart,-I must die in a few days.
Keep me- you will not be troubled long-and God
will reward you for it. I have no money, and no
friend within three hundred miles."
6 I can't do it! I've-a family to look after; and he
is worse than an infidel who don't do this."
" Oh I my God!" was the only reply of the dying
young man.
"What is your name? " inquired the landlord, whose
traffic had made his heart harder than the rock.




THE JOURNEY AND ITS RESULTS.            411
"A Ah! my name! —It would do you little good to
know it.  I had thought to keep that to myself, and
die unknown.  My nanme is WILSON I"
At the mention of the name, Frank at once sprang
into the room, and grasping the hand of the invalid,
whose eyes were closed, he whispered "Dick!"  A
convulsive shudder passed through his frame, he opened
his eyes, exclaiming —s' Thank God! Frank, we meet
again.  You will stay with me until the struggle is
over!1'
" Yes," replied Frank, " I will remain with you-I
will not leave you, while I can minister to your
wants."
"6 A friend's like a ship, when with music and song,
The tide of good fortune still speeds him along;
lBut see him when tempests have left him a wreck,
And any mean billow call batter his deck;
But give me the heart that sympathy shows,
And clings to a messmate, whatever wind blows."
When this heartless man saw that there would be
no doubt about his pay, he at once assumed a fawning
attitude, and was willing to do anything and everything, that might be necessary. A room was at once
prepared, into which Dick Wilson was immediately
taken; and after he was made as comfortable as possible, Frank informed him of the others who were in
the house, and he requested to see them at once.
Frank left him, and returned to the room in which
he had left them.  "You have a tender heart," said
Kate, as he stood bewildered before them.




412              DICK WILSON.
"' I have seen enough, my sister, to soften the heart
of any one but a rumseller."
"You never saw the invalid before, have you
Frank?"
"Yes, a thousand times!" and approaching nearer,
he said, " The invalid is poor Dick! I have seen him,
and I thank God for the Providence which detained
us here."
Eliza threw her face upon the shoulder of Kate,
and ejaculated, " My poor brother-lead me to him.
Oh! Where is he?"
As soon as the ladies could command sufficient
calmness to make their entrance proper, Frank lead
them to the room, and there stretched upon a bed,
which was manifestly to be a bed of death, lay Dick
Wilson. As soon as they entered he made an effort
to rise in the bed, and his feeble arms were thrown
about the necks of his sister and brother. " Where is
mother?" he faintly inquired.
"She is dead," was the answer.
"Then you ate alone. Oh! my sister and little
brother, you little know through what scenes I have
passed."  *  *  *  *  *
After he had recovered from the exhaustion, into
which this effort had thrown him, Eliza said to him,
"No, dear Dick, we are not alone. Mr. Hamilton's
kind family have taken us to their house and given
us a home."




THE JOU-RNEY AND ITS RESULTS.    413
"God bless them," said he; "they did everything
that was possible to save me, but I could not escape.
Even now, if it had not been for you, Frank-with the
visage of death stamped upon my countenance —this
merciless rumseller would have refused me shelter in
his house, and turned me into the street to die."
The next day found him somewhat revived, and he
disclosed to them. the history of his fall.  " A single
drop," said he, "' wakened anew in my system those
unquenched fires, before the fury of which I knew myself to be a life-long wanderer; and now in this feeble
wreck of your dying friend, you see the result. Oh I
Frank, bear witness for me, and let that witness have
a trumpet's tongue, that the rumseller is thze great enemy
of mankind!"
He spent as much time in short conversations with
his brother and sister, as was proper in his feeble condition. It was deeply affecting to see how tenderly
he caressed that little brother, and how solemnly he
warned him against those influences which had led
him into the path of ruin; and now about to make for
him an untimely grave. On the sixth day, the closing scene came. He seemed to be the first to apprehend its near capproach; and calling them to his bedside, he calmly said, "I am dying. This is the last
earthly scene in my history." And then taking the
hands of those dear ones, who stood by his bed, he
pressed them to his lips: then, without a struggle, the
Tev



414              DICK WILSON.
spirit of Richard Wilson, LThe Rumseller's Victim, with
a trembling hope in the mercies of the Redeemer,
passed into the presence of God.
It was on Sabbath morning when they made him
a grave, in a lonely part of the -little country cemetery
at R-.  The evidence of respect and affection was
mingled with the clods that rolled in upon his grave;
and they turned from the tomb of the brother and the
friend, sad in heart, it is true-yet, with assurance that
the rumseller's triumph with him was finished, that the
victim was at last quiet inthe grave. *  *  *  *  *
The amiable and lovely Eliza Wilson is now the
wife of the high-souled Frank Hamilton; who, with a
noble magnanimity and real devotion to the true interests ofhumanity, is contending with a giant's energy
for the passage of the "Maine Law" in his native
State; and Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton still live, to invoke
the blessing of God upon the cause. Harry, whom
they have adopted, and love as. their own son, gives
them every reason to hope for his future success as a
scholar and as a Christian. It is said that Col. C- --
will come again from Virginia, to transplant the beautiful, accomplished, and good Kate Hamilton to the
region of sunny skies and milder days; where, may she
long live to love and be beloved, as virtue's true
heroines should ever be.




CHAPTER XXVI.
THE "MAINE LAW" OUR ONLY ETOPE.-CONCLUSION.
6 1On the world's wide field of battle,
In the bivouac of life,
Be not like dumb driven cattle:
Be a HERO in the strife."
FRIENDS of humanity! you who have wept, tnd
whose hearts have bled, at the sight of the fearful desolations which intemperance has made, what is to be
done? A wary, gigantic, and interested enemy, feeding upon the hopes and happiness, and -reddened by
the blood of fathers, sons, mothers and sisters, is struggling to maintain an existence, which has already destroyed the hopes and happiness of millions; and which
is ready, for a price, to revel in the overthrow of millions more, and scatter broad-cast over the land the germinating elements of disease, crime, poverty and death I
Is the contest to be given up, and hope surrendered
to the spoiler, that his unslaked thirst for human
blood may still delight itself in the warm, fresh current of new victims?
Is the banner which has floated proudly in times of
darkness, and amidst many dreary vicissitudes, now




416              DICK WILSON.
to be furled?  No!  Hope, gathering strength friom
every element, which marks the progress of God's
great purposes, answers, no! no!/ No! but keeps the
field; and let the banner, borne by stalwart arms and
strong hearts, wave forth proudly as it ever did, displaying the simple motto, the "MAINE LAW," until
every State shall catch the philanthropic inspiration,
and drive this monster, Intemperance, from their borders.
The story of Dick Wilson is only that of thousands
of young men, who, by the pernicious influence of
the ruinselling fraternity, under legal sanction, have
been made to suffer, to bleed, and to die. This is but
one of the ten thousand families which, by the power
of this legalized wickedness, have been stricken down
to the very earth; and whose agonizing wails are
piercing the heavens, and calling down vengeance of
the Almighty. Who are suffering at the hands of
this desperately fortified organization, which has insinuated itself, with the stealthiness of a tiger's step,
both into the ballot-box and the legislative hall-that
it may control the one and overawe the other? lRather, who are not suffering?
Every relation in life has been chilled and torn by
it, and its sacred sanctity has been wantonly violated
by its accursed touch. You have seen the father, under its influence, tottering to his home, and through
life-tottering even to the grave; and you have seen




CONCLUSION.               417'
the mother and the children, who were as dear to her
as if the munificence of a princess had been hers, subsisting upon tears and sorrow and poverty; for, locked in the coffers of the rumseller was the living of
which she was the riglhtfl, and ought to have been the
legal owner. You have seen the strong young man
going forth into the world, intent upon the prize for
which he was struggling vigorously and with a highsouled magnanimity, each day removing obstacles and
dissipating fears, until the end was full in view, and
the reward was just within his grasp. Friends were
attracted to him by the rich promise he gave, and
upon him their earnest and admiring glance was fixed,
as he passed another and another of those who were
competitors in the same race, and they doubted not
that he would reach the goal of his ambition. But in
his, as in thousands upon thousands of similar cases,
they did not know that a concealed venom was rankling in his veins, and that already the fatal fire was
kindled within him, which, although smothered for
the time, was only waiting an adverse gale of fortune,
to fan it into furious and uncontrollable flame. It
came: the victim struggled fiercely in the contest for
life, but was overcome in the encounter, and sank
into the dark and cheerless embrace of the drunkard's grave.   And did he fall alone?  IHad that
been so, the scene would have been relieved of more
than half its horror. A mother, sister, and brother are
2h




418               DICK WILSON.
again smitten by the crushing blow, their staff broken,
and their earthly hopes and prospects blighted.
This is but a single case. Every city, town and
village in our broad land presents a daily record of
numerous cases, of which this is but a faint example.
Few are the families even that have not been more or
less directly scourged by this pest of the race.  The
long and full chronicle of crime, the baseness which
gloats in its triumphs over propriety and decency, the
broils which disturb public and private peace, the
haggard ghosts of poverty and want, with all their
suffering children, the madness which dethrones roason and demolishes "the dome of thought'"-indeed,
by far the greater share of all the ills that flesh is heir
to, have their origin in the same proliflic source of evil
and of ruin.
In view of the devastation which it has wrought,
and is still working, how humiliating the thought, that
in this country, at this time, with all the lights emitted
from the temples of science and the altars of religion,
it should still go on, immolating annually its thousands
of victims, and this, too, under the sanction of American law!
Again, the question occurs-What shall be done?
Is the evil beyond our reach? Shall we abandon the
field to the destroyer, and let his horrid work go on?
Shall we continue, as we have heretofore done, to aid in
the destruction of our countrymen and kindred, by




CONCLUSION.                419
giving to the rum traffic the positive sanction of law?
" Forbid it, my country —forbid it, heaven 1"  Every
motive which should control the actions of the philanthropist, the Christian, the political economist, the
man of business, the friend of his family, or of himself even, impels to action. H[umanity, in all her forms
of wretchedness, is making her most earnest and solemn
appeals. Her arguments are want and misery, sorrow
and suffering, tears and trials, crime and blood. They
are, however, utterly unavailing with those whose
sensibilities have been benumbed, whose sympathies
have been dried up, by the degrading associations and
influences of the rum  traffic. Gain is their only object, and the consequences which result to individuals
or to society are nothing to them, if they only make
i profitable. Disease and death may be before and
around them-the fondest hopes and the dearest relations of life tmay be blighted and severed by their
touch, without exciting one throb of pity in their callous hearts, or one purpose of amendment in their obdurate minds.
A business, therefore, the natural and unavoidable
effects of which is to harden and degrade those engaged in it, and from which society so bitterly saffers,
should obviously be prohibited by the strong arm of
public law, from further riot upon social peace.
How is this to be done? All legislation upon this
subject, with the exception of what is familiarly known




420              DICE WILSON.
as the " Maine Law," has been a failure. It has not
been able to stay the tide upon which thousands have
annually been drifted to ruin. Entire prohibition is
the only legislation on this subject which promises
safety; the only remedy that will secure the peace and
happiness of future generations-from the curse of the
monster evil. Help then I or your father-brotherchild-friend-may be the next to fall within its terrible embrace and fill a drunkard grave i
THE END.