BD036785

Temperance entertainment,
LADIES AND GENTLEMEN,—
No. II.
We have come together to-night in order to consider once more the evils of drink. One might have thought that the misery it has caused, the ruin it has wrought, would have sufficed to make every man and woman determine that they would have nothing to do with it. But although everybody knows what a terrible monster drink is, hundreds of thousands of men and women yet take it either for its own sake, because they like it, or because they cannot bear to be ridiculed.
No. 2—” YOU WILL NOT REFUSE.” Dr. Talmage used to make powerful appeals to the women of his country to use their influence on the side of sobriety. He told a story, which had been related to him by Bishop Potter, of a young man, who had been reformed, and who at a certain banquet, refused to take wine. He had at his side a well-dressed lady, who said, “You certainly will not refi.ise to take a glass with me?” Again he refused, but when she proceeded to sneer at his want of manliness, he filled his glass and drank. Then he took another and another; and finally, hitting the table with his fist, exclaimed, “Now I drink until I die”; and in a few months he had drun.k himself to death.
No. 3—” I GIVE MY CHILDREN THE SUGAR.” Now,
my friends, what could that lady think of the consequences of her folly? As for you who are sneered at, let me say: Be true to your corwictions! Sneers and hard words break no bones! He laughs best who laughs last! A man once laughed at Talmage’s
No. 1—HYMN, “LET US WITH A GLADSOME MIND.”

father for his scrupulous temperance principles, and siid, I am more liberal than you. I always give my children the sugar in the glass after we have been taking a drink.” Three of that man’s sons died drunkards, and the fourth became insane through intemperate habits. How necessary it is that we should guard our every action lest we sow seeds which shall produce a harvest of ruin.
No. 4—HYMN, “YIELD NOT TO TEMITATION.”
No. 5—A CARPENTER BY TRADE. But although 1 have
spoken of the inf’uence for evil which some people exert, there is
the other side of the picture. Many people are exerting an influ
ence for good. I once read a touching and powerful story which
told how a little girl became a kind of conscience to her drunken
father, and I will try to tell it to you in a few words. Ned Bryer was a carpenter by trade, and one whom any master would be glad to employ, for he was energetic, clever and sober. To look at his clear complexion and cheery face no one would ever have thought that he had once been a drunken sot, yet such had been the case.
No. 6—WOULD HAVE A “FEW WORDS.” Living in a Lancashire town he had married a young girl in a cotton mill— a girl who had never been brought up to domestic duties, and who did not get accustomed to them very quickly. Ned used to find the house upset, and his wife hard at work when his day’s work was done, and this made him vexed, and he began to reproach her with the taunt that the public-house bar was brighter and tidier. He would have a “few words,” and go out again. Poor girl! She was doing her best, but she had no friend to show hei how to do bettei. If some motherly neighbour had been willing to give her some homely advice a great deal of misery might have been avoided.
—,. .
No. 7—SPENT HIS TIME AT HER BEDSIDE. So Ne
got into the way of spending his evenings at the pub. Yet he was never so had but he’ coiuld turn up at his work in the morning, and there appeared to be no grounds for serious anxiety. On the
contrary, whena little iaby girl came’ Ned abandoned- the publicexE

house altogether, and spent all his spare time at his wife’s bedside ; and, as does sometimes happen, it really seemed as though this little stranger was going to bind the heart of man and wife more closely together. Ned worked hard, and worked overtime to pay the doctor, and there seemed every prospect of a happy future for little Polly.
No. 8--SHE TOOK THE TIPSY BOUNCE OUT OF HIM.
ut this happy state of affairs did not last. Ned began to take a glass, now and. again, and, then twoor three glasses, until bye and bye lie was once more rdlllng like a ship at sea ; and once mare the black cloud was settling over his wife’s heart. Strangely. nough,. little Totty, as soon as she could lisp at all, would hold out her arms to him and murmur, “Poor Father !“ whenever he came into the room. Howevej drunk he might be she would hold up her little lips to be kissed, and her ‘Poor Father” lashed his conscience more than any rebuke could have done. It was hard to be pitied by the innocent little being whom he loved so dearly. It took all the tipsy bounce out of him. His wife never complained ; but both she and her child wore a look of constant sadness that ought to have melted a heart of stone.
No. 9—HE STAGGERED HOME. But nothing petrifies the heart like strong drink, and Ned’s grew harder instead of softer. One Whitsuntide whilst engaged on a new school-house contract, Ned and his n’ate.s broke off work for a couple of days. In Ned’s case the holiday lasted until the end of the week, and he drank himself mad. There was no excuse for him. He was worse than a beast, ‘he was a fiend. Not a penny remained when he staggered home on the Saturday, but oaths and curses, filled his mouth if ‘his pockets were empty. The sight of his tidy little home acted strangely on his disordered nerves. Fle became frenzied. Little Totty, trembling but trustful, crept up to him, and said, with that look of childish pity, “ Daddy, poor daddy !“
No. 10—MAD WiTH DELIRIUM. What diabolical impulse urged him he could not explain, but he seized his darling in his arms, and turning from the house he ran down the street like one demented. He. seemed sobered in a sense. He kept his feet without effort, but his brain was on fire. On he rushed until he the building where his mates were still at work, and seizing hold of the rungs of a ladder he ran up until he reached the first floor, and the window where he had been working. Dimly he was conscious of a crowd of faces below; confusedly he heard
the sound of voices, but he was only half-conscious in his delirium.
No. 11—HURLED IT DOWN. Then some demon seemed to taunt him, and with a shriek he hurled his burden out into’ the street. As he did so his senses returned for a moment, and he knew what he had done. He knew that the idol of his heart had been thrown into the street by his hands, hut following this knowledge came unconsciousness—an unconsciousness which yet left him a prey to the attacks of imps and devils—an unconsciousness which seemed to him. to be a very inferno where his soul was being imprisoned and his body tormented.
No. 12—” MY CHILD!” HE CRIED. When reason re- turned he found himself in the ward of a hospital. The bright sunshine streamed into the room, hut there was no brightness for him until one question should be answered. Memory had regained he,r throne. “ iVly little girl !“ he cried, “ My child !“ and he tried to leap from the bed. The nurses and doctor restrained him. “She is saved !“ they said, “Your wife caught her in the crowd.” Ned sobbed himself to sleep, thanking God for His goodness, and soon afterwards it was arranged that his wife and child should see him.
No. 13—” CAN YOU FORGIVE ME?” When they came Ned’s joy knew no bounds, but he had to learn that sin often brings a terrible punishment. He saw something in his wife’s face which he could not interpret. He thought she distrusted him, but she assured him she did not. Little Totty crept up to him, and put her arms around his neck, but not a word did she speak. Say “Poor Daddy !“ sobbed the penitent father. “Tell me you forgive me!” but though the child fondled and kissed him no words came from. her lips. Then they told him, as kindly as possible, that his little girl would never speak again. The shock had paralysed her tongue; and henceforth his own conscience would have to speak, for Totty would always be dumb. ‘9
o. 14—AT THE DOOR. When he left the hospital his wife and child accompanied him home. He expected to find an empty cupboard and a cheerless hearth, and was prepared to blame himself for this, but he was agreeaby disappointed. His wife had retured to the mill, and had earned sufficient to keep the home comfortable; and Ne:l thanked God again for the good wife He had given him.
No. 15—HE WOULD TEACH HER. They removed to
, for Ned rightly thought that it would be best for them all to leave the old associations and start life afresh where they were not known. He had no difficulty in obtaining work for he was handy with his tools, and he steadily resisted his craving for beer. And little Totty, if she was no longer his conscience, was yet his guairdian: angel, for she met him at the shop door when work was done, and putting her little hand in. his horny palm trotted home by his side. And Ned’s mates looked almost with awe upon the little maid, and would never have thought of tempting Ned into the inn whilst he was so protected. After tea nothing pleased Ned better than to take little Totty on his knee and teach her to spell by means of large, wooden letters, which’ somehow used often to form the words “poor Daddy !“
No. 16.—THE SUNLIGHT GLOWED. But this happiness was not destined to last. Fever came into thie neighbourhood, and poor, frail little Totty was claimed as a victim. I will hurry over the story of Ned’s sufferings, and simply tell you hoiw, just before the end came, a blaze of sunlight streamed through the window and bathed the tiny sufferer in gold. And as it touched her she raised herself, and with eyes full of love, whispered, “Daddy— poor Daddy !“ The tongue, so long dumb had been loosened at the approach of death. The sunken eyes filled with the light of
heaven and again the lips moved, “ I see it! I see it! The
golden way that leads into heaven! I am gOing to leave you, Daddy !“ And stretching out her little hands, Totty went to join the angels.
No. 17—HYMN, “KIND WORDS.”
No. 18—HE BANGED HIS FIST, &c. My talk to-night
runs on the subject of influence. It is awfully true that “no man
liveth to himself.” Some of you have read the story by F. M. Holmes which he calls Owen’s Oath. It illustrates the responsibility any man incurs who ‘ dares “ another to an act of folly, and it also illustrates the foolishness of the man who allows himself to be “dared.” This Owen was a powerful fisherman of a morose and dogged disposition, and he was drinking in an ale-. house with ome mates one terribly wild night when a great gale. was blowing round the coast. When the story opens he had just banged his fist on the table, with an oath.
No:. 19—THEY ENDEAVOURED TO DISSUADE HIM.
It happened that the railway line ran for a considerable distance at the foot of the cliffs and quite close to the sea,from which it was protected by a huge sea-wall. This wall formed a pleasant promenade in fair weather, but pedestrians took it at their own risk as the Railway Company had not intended it to serve any such purpos. On this particular night one of Owen’s mates, well knowing the man’s disposition, dared him to cross the sea-wall. He repeated this taunt of cowardice several times in spite of the vehement protests of the others. Owen. was a hard drinker, and his sole reply was to call for more brandy, and to swear that he would do jt. In vain did his more sober mates endeavour to dissuade him. He was deaf to all advice and entreaty.
No. 20—SAW THE FIGURE OF A MAN. So’ terrible was the storm that even the express was stopped to make sure that the passage was safe, hut at length it proceeded on its way. Looking from the window one of the passengers thought he saw a strange and terrible sight in the glare of the engine fire. He thought he saw the form of a fisherman battling with the gale; and as he looked a huge wave swept the man: from his feet into the darkness below.
No. 21—A KNOT OF ANXIOUS MEN. When the station was reached the passenger alighted and made his way back to the sea-wall. He found there a little knot of anxious fishermen who had come over the cliffs and were waiting for a comrade who was to come by the wall. To them he told what he had seen. They waited a long while, hoping against hope; hut th reckless man was never seen again. Another name had been added to the long list of victims of the accursed drink.
No. 22.--HYJ\lN, “RESCLE.THIi PERISHING.”
No. 23—A MOTHER, WAN AND PALE. And so you see, my friends, that all the tales of drink are tales of tragedy. Drink makes homes like this—homes where the weeping mother sits, wan and pale, and holds her head lest it should burst at the sight of her little ones crying for bread. Homes where the children know no joy, no hope; where -they are old before their time, and have, perchance, never known what it was to be young.
- No. 24—” WHERE IS THE COW YOU MILKED?”- Or
if they have; if there come back to them memories of the past—— memories of green fields and pleasant streams and days of plenty—-memories of the farm with the cows their mother used to milk—the cup of their sorro’w is but made more bitter. Oh! men and women of England, this is a picture which cannot be overdrawn. It is no rare picture. It is to be found everywhere. In thousands of homes, hearts are breaking, innocent children are starving for want of food and fire. Nay in hundreds of thousands, alas! the grim tragedy is proceeding.
No. 25—” HE NEVER TAKES US ON HIS KNEE.”
Tennyson has told us that “ Sorrow’s crown of sorrow is remembering happier things.” It is true. What sorrow is like that of
the child who sobs out concerning his father—” He never takes us on his knee as he did long ago!” What sorrow is like that of the wife who mourns for the strong and tender love which once was hers! What sorrow is like that of the mother whose groans rise up to God for the son, the daughter who once repeated their prayers at her knee!
No. 26—THE COLD, HARD BED OF STRAW. Drink, drink, drink! This accounts for it all. This is the murderer of human happiness, of human love, of human lives. The mother weeps in the bare and cheerless attic by the cold hard bed of straw on which her children sleep, when sleep will come. She weeps, and well she may, and if sometimes she prays that they may never wake from sleep until they wake in heaven ; if sometimes she prays the Lord of the children to take them to Himself, lest they grow up to break her heart afresh, do not blame her. You would do the same!, perhaps, for her’s is a sad home, it is the home of a drunkard.
No. 27—” FOR THOU ART REVELLING.” Again I say, men and women of England, this picture is not overdrawn.
Here you see the cause of all the trouble. The poor, drunken wretch, much to be blamed, and also much to be pitied, whose brains have been stoIen away by the enemy he has put into his mouth. You would not like your boy to grow up to be like that. Then abstain from drink! By precept and by example lead him into paths of temperance; and so help to make this land of ours purer, brighter, happier than it has ever yet been.
No. 28—HYMN, “GIVE ME NO FATAL WINE CUP”
No. 29—” DON’T GO IN TO-NIGHT.” How much happier this land of ours would be if strong drink was abolished, except as a medicine. The silent tragedies which are enacted day by day even in those homes where no criminal act is ever committed are enough to make the head reel and the heart grow sick. You have seen the wife, the mother, standing at the door of the
gin-palace, pleading with her husband not to enter. Some
times she is kicked aside with an oath Sometime’s she is
simply ignored. Sometimes, alas! too rarely, she is suc
cessful. When this happens it is the appeal to memory which is generally most cogent. “John,” said a poor woman to’ her husband, “Come home with me to-night! I am hungry and cold, and your child is starving. Come home to-night, John, for the sake of our happy past.”
No. 3O.—NONE WERE HAPPIER. “Don’t you remember the days when we were first married, John. The tiny cottage in the country, with our old grandfather’s clock in the corner, and the pictures on the walls. Don’t you remember how we sat around the cheerful blaze of an evening; and how you would put your arms around my neck, and tell me of the day’s doings, arid of what was going on in the world. Oh! John, don’t you remember, and won’t you come home to-night for auld lang syne?”
No. 31—” WHEN WE WERE COURTING.”“Have you forgotten the days when you were courting me, John? The happy, happy days when the skies were always blue to you and me; when the birds aiw ays sang merrily, and nature was always
• gaily dressed? You have not forgotten, John; you cannot have forgQtten alto.getler the vows you made as we walked through the cornfields or by the side of the brook! Oh! John, for the
sake of the past, for my sake, come home with me to-night!”
No. 32—SO TIDY AND CLEAN. “Don’t spend your last shilling in drink, John. Think of the days when we walked down the road together so tidy and clean and neat, and the neighbours smiled to see us so loving! You lorved me then, John. Oh is that love quite dead? Is there not a tiny spark left? Come home with me, and let me put my arms around your neck, and let me nestle close to your heart, and beg you for your little child’s sake to love us both as; you used to do! Let me persuade you, with smiles or with tears to’ let the drink alone! Oh! John, co’me home with me to-night.”
No. 33—” YOU WILL NOT SPEND THE SHILLING !“
Could any man steel his heart against an appeal like this? Alas! yes. Yes! Thousands do so; and with cruel oaths and cruel blows to add heavier pain to the refusal. I say if we could but enter into the sufferings of our poor disconsolate sisters, and of the little children who are worse than fatherless, we should not rest content until some mighty effort had been made to’ put a stop to the traffic which produces results so terrible. Meanwhile, again I say: Set a guard on yourselves and on your children, so that you, at least, may be free from this awful sin.
No 34—HYMN, “DO THE RIGHT.”
No. 35—THEY PASSED OUT AT THE GATE. Some of you have read “Danesbury House” by Mrs. Henry Wood, and yo’u may remember the description given there of a typical Saturday night—too typical, I am sorry to say of what goes on in this England of ours. It was a wretched night when the men streamed out of the pay office into the street. The wise went home or to market, hut they were the few. The majority made their way to their accustomed haunt at the Pig and Whistle.
No. 36—THE “PIG AND WHISTL4E.” They were for the most part decent fellows when sober, but the more they drank the less decent they became. The settle near the blazing fire was soon crowded, and they filled their pipes, called for drink and prepared to make a night of it. Among the number was Richard Gould—by no means one of the worst of sinners, but yet a typical Saturday night drinker.
No. 37—AT HOME IN THE PARLOUR. And his poor wife, keeping her lonely watch at home, is also typical of a Saturday night wife. She was fairly well connected, and therefore her lot was better than that of most of her neighbours, and her credit was good, for Richard never got more than half drunk. She had a good fire and some stew oi the hob forrn her-husband’s supper but as the hands of the clock movedsteadily round, she sighed and muttered to herself thathe was ‘ gone to the wretched pub. again.”
No. 38—THAT DRUNKEN BRUTE ! A knock at the door made her look up. It was her next door neighbour, Mrs. Reed, who had come to leave the key whilst she went to seek up her husband, an.d try to persuade him to yield some of his wages before the shops should be closed. As companions in misfortune the two had a good deal to say about the shameful doings of their men-kind ; and could doubtless have said much more if time had not been pressing. “That drunken brute!” Reed’s wife called her husband.
No. 39—” WHAT DO YOU WANT?” It was nearly eleven when Mrs. Reed found her husband, and he was in a our and bearish temper. His mates had jeered at him when they heard that his wife wished to see him, and he gruffly demanded to know what she wanted. Poor Mrs. Reed had no difficulty in supplying the information, and her magnanimous lord tossed down five shillings and told her to get what she required. In vain did she protest that her needs were great, and his concession small. He turned on his heel and walked away.
No. 40—THE LANDLORD EXPELLED HER. Just. at that moment an older woman entered—herself half-drunk—and asked for her husband. She would have rushed into the tap-mom, but the landlord stopped her. When her husband came omit there was an angry scene. The woman wanted money for drink ;the man refused to give it. Amidst the oaths which poued from tlieir lips the landlord advanced; an1 thrust the wOman out of
doors, threatening her at the same time with the lock-up.
No. 41—” I’i.L PAY YOU.” Screaming and raving, the old woman rushed up the street, and entered a gin-shop where a buxom landlady stoodbehind the cointer. Here she obtained gin on the strength of bier promise to pay on the Monday if she should have to pawn her husband’s coat to do it. Publicans know that these debts are generally paid, and do not hesitate to give credit
No. 42 -BEFORE THE PUBLIC HOUSE DOOR. Outside the doors of the public houses groups of women were gathered on that pitiless night, some with children in their arms. Why were they waiting there at it o’clock? They were waiting to guide and guard their drunken husbands home, lest the law should seize them, and thus deprive them of what money might be left. God help these wives, these human slaves, and may God send them deliverance!
No. 43—HIS WIFE PREPARED SUPPER. It was late when Richard Gould came home—just “ fresh,” not drunk. His wife gave him his supper in silence, but he could not eat it, and went off to bed. Awakening early, he got up and went out to buy a few little things at the shops which Saturday night intemperance causes to be opened on the Sunday morning. He was penitent now, and ready to vow that he would put a stop to this folly—but how often had he protested before.
Now, my friends, that is a very simple, unexaggerated picture of many a working man’s Saturday night. It isn’t a pleasant
picture is it? Then help us to remedy it.
No. 44—HYMN, “ DARE TO DO RIGHT.”
No. 45—AT THE TABLE. I have nearly done, but I have just a few more words to say. Try not to despise the drunkard ; try to save him! There is an inspiriting story told of a visit which Mr. J. B. Gough paid to a drunkard’s home. He hesitated to go at first, because he said he had no more right to go uninvited to a drunkard’s home than to a rich man’s mansion.
Finally, however, he yielded to entreaty and went, and the drunkard opened the door, recognised him and invited him to enter. They talked of all things except temperance, but at last Mr. Gough spoke of the children, and asked him if he loved them.
Bless them !“ he said, • To be sure I do.”“ Then “ said Mr.
Gough, “would they not be better off if you were to leave off drinking?”“Well,” he said, “You have me théte!”
No. 46—SHE GRIPPED HIS HAND. Then Mr. Gough
to the man’s wife who was ill in bed in an adjoining room, and the man said he loved his wife; she was as good a wife as ever a man, had. “Would you do anything to please her?” asked Mr. Gough. “Well, I ought to,” he replied.
Now,” said his visitor, “Suppose you should sign the pledge,
would that please her?”“By thunder, I guess it would,” said the man; and he did, there and then. When finally, they went nto the sick room the joy of the poor woman knew no bounds.
She gripped Mr. Gough’s hand and shed tears of joy. She had great bruises on her shoulders and neck, but she was full of excuses for the hand which had put them there. She had had a hard life, but hope had stolen into her breast; and Mr. Gough
left that home full of the sunshine of a new joy. That man had been the worst drunkard in the neighbourhood; but a “word spoken in due season” made him a new creature, a changed man
—a kind husband and father.
No.47—HYMN, “SOUND THE BATTLE CRY.”
No. 48—FINAL MOTTO. And now, in conclusion., let me appeal to you all, young and old, to join the Temperance Army at once. We have a gigantic foe to fight. We need all the help and vigour we can obtain.. Rally to our banner! The war we are waging brings no misery in its train. It is a war against misery. We are warring against that which makes the tenderhearted husband hard and cruel; which makes. the salt tears wear channels on the once cheery face of wife and mother; which causes little children. to cry for bread and sink into an early grave. In proportion as we drive back the foe, homes will be made brighter, hearts happier, trade better. We have a noble, an in.spiring cause. Then join it now and help on the good work.