ast--would bless his dear boy Thomas, and take him into his especial
keeping, and lead him to the blessed Jesus; and finally, when the voyage
of life was over, that we all three might join the dear mother who had
gone before us, at the right hand of the throne of God, to bless and
praise his holy name for ever. He then put Susan's hand into mine, and
blessed us both again, and said, "Thomas, I leave this dear, precious
girl with you; watch over her, cherish and protect her, and be to her
both father and brother. May the great God bless you, my dear children,
and make you his. I have but little time to say more, for the icy hand
of death is on me; my Saviour beckons, and I must away. Come, Lord
Jesus." With these words the glorified spirit of my beloved father
winged its flight to mansions in the skies--to that "rest prepared for
the people of God;" and I was left with my weeping sister, almost
stupefied with grief. Three days after, the clods of the valley covered
the mortal remains of my honored parent, and then poor Sue and I felt
that we were all in all to each other. I told her of all my troubles,
and that I had robbed her by my vileness; but the dear girl kissed me,
and said, "Dear brother, do not mourn on my account; I am young and
healthy, and can easily support myself by my needle; but mourn on your
own account--mourn over your sins, and your ingratitude to the great
Being who has upheld you and preserved you in so many dangers, known and
unknown, on the mighty deep. And promise me, dear brother, that you will
never touch another drop of liquor again; it will be the first step
towards reformation."

JACK. Poor dear girl. Of course, Tom, you promised?

TOM. Aye, aye, Jack, I did promise; and what's more, I kept my promise.
But you must know how I was able to do it. Before I left the village a
great Temperance-meeting was held there, and several of the friends of
the cause delivered addresses, in which they showed so clearly and
conclusively the great evils resulting from the use of spirituous
liquors, that nearly every body in the village signed the pledge of
total abstinence--at least, all of the respectable part of the
community, and even a good many sots who had been given up as
incorrigible. O Jack, if you had heard the awful accounts they gave of
broken-hearted wives and beggared children; of the widows and orphans
made by rum; of the misery and degradation attendant upon it; of the
crimes committed under i