he cannot pay them. The postman's knock frightens him, because it may bring some demand for money which he cannot meet. The money has run through his hands as though it were water; and if he hears of a good opening in business elsewhere, he cannot go in search of it because the money is all gone. He lives in outward comfort, perhaps, spending money in luxuries which ought to go to pay his debts; but he is sad and sick at heart-a real slave.

6. But that other slave-owner, Drink, who may be called the twin-brother to Debt, as they often go together, is still more cruel. He binds both body and soul in galling chains. He makes his slaves show their slavery by every step, by every look, by every word. You may often see them reeling in the streets, their eyes rolling about in a wild and vacant stare, and their words broken and indistinct.

7. Follow these poor slaves to what ought to be their homes. The haggard wife, the ragged, starving children, the scanty and broken furniture, all tell a sad tale of misery and woe. The poor slave's eyes are too dull to see it; his ears too deaf to hear the cry or heed the prayer of wife and children. His senses are enslaved. He can neither see nor feel the wretchedness and misery he has caused. His children cry for bread, and yet he spends his all in drink.

8. Our British Parliament passed a law to set our slaves free in the West Indies in 1833; Lincoln issued a proclamation, in 1865, giving

freedom to the slave in the Southern States of America; but neither Parliament nor President can set these slaves free. They have fastened their own chains, and they alone can unfasten them, if they will.

9. An awful instance of what this drink-slavery will bring a man to occurred in February, 1884, when a young man was executed at Taunton, for having stabbed a companion in a drunken freak. When taken, he declared he knew nothing at all about it, so completely was he enslaved by this merciless slave-owner, Drink.

10. No slavery has desolated so many homes, ruined so many lives, broken so many hearts, or hurried so many human beings to an early and dishonoured grave, as this terrible slavery to drink. It helps to fill our prisons, our workhouses, and our asylums. It brings more misery and desolation than a foreign army would cause if it were settled in our midst. It is the most fatal of all plagues, more destructive than war or famine.

QUESTIONS.-What is the worst form of slavery? Name the two most cruel slave-owners. Who is to blame for this kind of slavery? To what does the man who is a slave to debt trust for paying his bills? Why is such a man really a slave? What may be called the twinbrother to debt? How does the slave to drink show his slavery? Describe the drunkard's home. Why does not the drunkard feel his disgrace? Who alone can set him free? Give an instance of the awful effects of drunkenness. Name some of the evils of drunkenness.

Near yonder copse, where once the garden smiled,
And still where many a garden flower grows wild,
There, where a few torn shrubs the place disclose,
The village preacher's modest mansion rose.

A man he was to all the country dear,
And passing rich with forty pounds a year;
Remote from towns he ran his godly race,

Nor e'er had changed, nor wished to change, his place.
Unskilful he to fawn, or seek for power,

By doctrines fashioned to the varying hour;
Far other aims his heart had learned to prize,
More bent to raise the wretched than to rise.
His house was known to all the vagrant train;
He chid their wanderings, but relieved their pain.
The long-remembered beggar was his guest,
Whose beard descending swept his aged breast;
The ruined spendthrift, now no longer proud,
Claimed kindred there, and had his claim allowed;
The broken soldier, kindly bade to stay,
Sat by his fire and talked the night away,
Wept o'er his wounds, or, tales of sorrow done,

Shouldered his crutch, and showed how fields were won.
Pleased with his guests, the good man learned to glow,
And quite forgot their vices, in their woe;
Careless their merits or their faults to scan,
His pity gave, ere charity began.

Thus to relieve the wretched was his pride,
And even his failings leaned to virtue's side;

But, in his duty prompt at every call,

He watched and wept, he prayed and felt for all :
And, as a bird each fond endearment tries
To tempt her new-fledged offspring to the skies,
He tried each art, reproved each dull delay,
Allured to brighter worlds, and led the way.

Copse.-A small wood, where the trees are often cut down. Spendthrift.-One who carelessly spends his money.

Oliver Goldsmith.

The Village Preacher.-This refers to the Rev. C. Goldsmith, the father of the poet.

LESSON XXII.

A HAPPY FAMILY.-PART I.

splen'-did, fine, grand
bread-win'-ner, one who earns
the living for the family
Cleve'-land, now a large city
near Lake Erie, in the United
States

scant'-y, very small amount
pre'-cious, dearly loved
in-tel'-li-gent, possessed of an
active mind

grand'-eur, splendid surround-
ings

1. What makes a happy family? Many persons think that, in order to secure happiness, we must be born in a splendid house, and have every want supplied, and every wish gratified, by numerous and willing servants. This lesson gives an account of a family, some of whom are still living, who were brought up under circumstances which seem very unfavourable to happiness.

2. The children of this family were living in a log cabin—that is, a cabin made of logs of wood laid one upon another, and the spaces between filled up with clay and wood; the floor was made of logs, each split into two parts, and laid with the flat side turned upwards, hewn smooth with an axe.

3. In one corner of the only room that formed this cabin a ladder was fixed, by which the family ascended to a loft above, where they slept. The only door of the house was made of planks, and three small windows afforded scanty light. In this cabin lived a widow, with four children-two boys, one about thirteen years of age, and the other nearly four, and two girls.

4. Two years ago the father and bread-winner of the family had died after a short illness, and as there was no churchyard near, and none even to read the funeral service over his lonely grave, he was laid in the corner of a wheat field near his cabin. The sorrowing widow was left alone with her four small children in that wilderness, with the wintry storms raging round her cabin, and wolves and panthers howling near the door by night. It was indeed a wild district, not very far from where the thriving town of Cleveland-then but a small village-now stands.

5. Here that lone woman had to fight the hard battle of life, and try to bring up her family as best she could. And yet not alone! In that field close by lay the precious remains of one ever dear to her; and there was Tom, the eldest boy, who, young as he was, was working bravely and cheerfully to help and comfort the mother whom he loved so dearly; and James, the baby boy, was growing up a sweet, thoughtful, and intelligent lad.

6. And, more than all, there was God above, who cares for the poor and lonely ones, and helps them to bear their heavy burden. In Him the