hole or corner
until the other had passed, and all danger of coming under his reproof
was over. Art was still begging with his children, when, after a long
and dangerous illness, it pleased God to restore his wife to him and
them. So much pity, and interest, and respect did she excite during
her convalescence--for it was impossible that her virtues, even in the
lowest depths of her misery, could be altogether unknown--that the heads
of the hospital humanely proposed to give her some kind of situation in
it, as soon as she should regain sufficient strength to undertake its
duties. The mother's love, however, still prompted her to rejoin her
children, feeling as she did, and as she said, how doubly necessary now
her care and attention to them must be. She at length yielded to their
remonstrances, when they assured her that to return in her present weak
condition to her cold and desolate house, and the utter want of all
comfort which was to be found in it, might, and, in all probability,
would, be fatal to her; and that by thus exposing herself too soon to
the consequences of cold and destitution, she might leave her children
motherless. This argument prevailed, but in the meantime she stipulated
that her children and her husband, if the latter were in a state of
sufficient sobriety, should be permitted occasionally to see her, that
she might inquire into their situation, and know how they lived. This
was acceded to, and, by the aid of care and nourishing food, she soon
found herself beginning to regain her strength.

In the meantime the Temperance movement was rapidly and triumphantly
approaching. In a town about fifteen miles distant there was a meeting
advertised to be held, at which the great apostle himself was to
administer the pledge; Father Costelloe announced it from the altar, and
earnestly recommended his parishioners to attend, and enrol themselves
under the blessed banner of Temperance, the sober man as well as the
drunkard.

"It may be said," he observed, "that sober men have no necessity for
taking the pledge; and if one were certain that every sober man was
to remain sober during his whole life, there would not, indeed, be a
necessity for sober men to take it; but, alas! my friends, you know how
subject we are to those snares, and pitfalls, and temptations of life
by which our paths are continually beset. Who can say to-day that he
may not transgress the bounds of temperance before this day week? Your
co