must it then be to have a bad thing constantly ringing in one's ears? It is of more importance to ascertain the causes of Intemperance, than it is to be always harping upon its effects; for a knowledge of the causes which produce it, may pave the way to its cure.

The most prominent causes of Intemperance in the use of Ardent Spirit, are Idleness, Debt, Melancholy, Example. Men do not become drunkards without some cause, or causes, and IDLENESS is obviously one. By idleness, I mean inactivity of mind as well as of body. The man of a well cultivated mind is never idle. His hands may be still, his body may not move, but his mind is employed; he is busy with his thoughts; they keep him company, afford him amusement, and lessen his temptation to excessive drinking. Persons like him can meet together, fill up their time with rational conversation, and be satisfied with "the feast of reason and the flow of soul."

But the majority of mankind have little mental cultivation. Their minds are vacant, dull, inactive. The lower faculties, those which are common to man and animals, are the most strongly developed, and have the greatest influence in determining their conduct. While, however, they have employment, plenty of labor to perform, they may be interested, may be so engrossed that they will not feel obliged to resort to the bottle to fill up their lonely hours.

But, soon as they are idle, they become dull, listless, half dead with ennui. Time hangs heavy. They may crack a joke with this one and with that, but all does not do. They soon exhaust their wit, and all the topics on which they can feel any interest. Their resort is the dram. This sends a greater quantity of blood to the brain, excites its actions, and exhilarates his whole system. Still idle, surrounded by idle companions, the dram is repeated-today, to-morrow, next day, and the idler is a drunkard. To prevent this, it is necessary to give all employment.What promotes industry and mental cultivation will tend to lessen the number of drunkards made by Idleness.

The second cause I mentioned, is DEBT. I know people are often in debt because they are intemperate. I know, also, that many, whose poverty is charged upon their hard drinking, were embarrassed in their affairs before they left the walks of sobriety. A man is no man when he is in debt; that is when he is so involved, that he despairs of

being able to extricate himself. He is half a slave to his creditor-is unwilling to meet him; his movements are embarrassed; his mind is vexed, is soured, and he becomes mad—mad with himself, mad with every body. He dreads to reflect on the state of his affairs, lets every thing fall into confusion-takes a dram and is richer, another and is richer yet, another and he has found forgetfulness, another, and his ruin is complete.

The remedy in this case is to check, as far as practicable, the credit system which so extensively prevails. To give a man credit is often the worst injury you can do him. Compel him to earn and pay for the article he buys, before he consumes it, and he may live free from debt, free from embarrassment, free from intemperance. Would all our merchants insist on being paid at the time of selling an article, it would be better for them, and, in the long run, 50 per cent. better for community. The more free you can keep community from debt, the more free will you keep it from Intemperance.

The third cause I notice, is MELANCHOLY. I use this word, melancholy, in a broad sense. I have seen many a man become a drunkard, ruining the character, fortune and hopes of a most lovely wife; but I never saw one do thus, that was happy with his wife at home, by his own fireside. I know man, at times, is awfully depraved; I shut my eyes on none of his wickedness, but he is never that wretch which can voluntarily ruin the woman he loves, and with whom he is happy, with no other temptation than the pleasure of killing himself by rum drinking. "Every heart knoweth its own bitterness." He who seems to us to have no cause of uneasiness, may have many a grief, concealed from the world, which drives him to the intoxicating bowl. The loss of a companion, of property, of some dear friend; unrequited affection, disappointment in the worth of one we had loved; disappointed ambition; a disordered nervous system, a constitutional gloom-these, singly or combined, create melancholy, make life apparently insupportable, and drive the weak and unthinking to the bottle. They drink-get drunk-to-day to drown the shame for having been drunk yesterday, and to-morrow for the same reasons which affect them to-day.

I cannot speak harshly to these. It is not every man that can command his feelings and make himself superior

to circumstances. It is not every man that can be reformed by appeals to conscience. The more you make some feel, the more irretrievable is their ruin. Some require to be soothed. They feel too acutely. The reproaches of conscience may be already too severe. These melan

choly persons should be taken by the hand, should be made to forget the losses over which they grieve, and assured that all is not yet gone; that they may yet regain their standing in community. They should be led to some bright and sunny spot in life's pathway, where they may forget their unpleasant feelings, and learn to joy with a smiling world around them.

The last cause to which I now invite your attention is EXAMPLE. Under this head I include the example of parents and of society generally. Intemperate parents, not always, but generally, have intemperate children. This is owing to example; and something, perhaps, to hereditary transmission of constitution. A good deal depends on innate propensity. Some children however exposed, will never become intemperate; not because they have a stronger moral sense than those which do, but because they have no inclination to excessive drinking. There is no doubt that the constitution which nature gives has great power in determining whether the child shall grow up a sober or a drunken man. This constitution may be transmitted from parent to child. But, though this does much it does not all. He who has a strong propensity to drink is not necessarily a drunkard. That propensity, if not strengthened by exercise, may be overcome. But in children of intemperate parents it is exercised. It is made powerful by early practice, and its empire is confirmed by habit. This, too, is done before the child is aware of the consequences; before the higher faculties are sufficiently developed to become a restraint. I entreat drunken fathers to reflect on this. They are training up their children to be nuisances to society, and a curse to themselves.

The example of associates has its influence. Many a one has become a drunkard through the influence of dissipated associates. One takes a glass, not because he wants it, but because he would not appear singular. From one he proceeds to another; and, having constantly around him a set of idle, drinking fellows, whom he has not courage to shake off, he soon becomes as bad as any.

The example of society generally, or fashion, makes its full share of drunkards. Fashion is all but omnipotent. It will make men do all that man can do. It will make them submit to, even approve, what they would abhor, were it not fashionable. That pert dandy, done up in stays, sporting his cane and whiskers, brainless and selfish as he is, might have some semblance to a human being, were it not his ambition to be foremost among the devotees at the shrine of fashion. And were it not for the same reason so many of the young and beautiful would not find a premature grave by unwholesome practices of dress which it is supposed fashion enjoins.

But he is a fool who preaches against fashion. The Tartars conquered China, but they could not make the Chinese cease to wear long hair. Parents may entreat, Physicians may warn, Divines may declaim, and God himself may speak by his messengers, disease and death, and it is all useless. "Ephraim is joined to his idols, let him alone." The most any one may hope, is to change fashion to the side of health and good morals.

It was cus

Fashion has made its share of drunkards. tomary with those who gave a tone to society, to treat their friends, with rum, brandy, gin or wine, or all together. It was pleasant to take a social glass with a friend, to drink to his good health and good luck. But if this was pleasant to the rich and polite, it was no less pleasant to the poor and vulgar. If it be pleasant to drink above stairs, no one can assign a reason why it is not as pleasant to drink below. If the rich man may treat his friend from the stores which he keeps constantly on hand, I know not why the poor man who cannot keep ardent spirit in his house, may not take his friend to the tavern or grocery and treat him to a glass of Whiskey. If one might take his gin before, his wine with and after his dinner, and perhaps end with a "grace cup" of brandy, I know not why another might not just as well take his morning bitters. It is true the drunkard in broadcloth, might be deemed more of a gentleman, than the one in homespun, he in the new suit, than he in rags, but after all, the poor man was only imitating his betters as well as he could. It is true it seems less vulgar for a party to assemble in a splendidly furnished room to sit and drink Claret, Burgundy or Champagne, delightful Champagne, than it is to hear of a company of laborers getting togeth

er in a dirty grocery, to drink Whiskey, but I do not know as the more fashionable set have any right to complain of their coarser followers. And if those in high life, the fashionable part of society, might possibly govern themselves so as not to become drunkards, the same could not always be affirmed of their imitators. Those who aped their habits were pretty sure to overact them. We need no proof of this. Many a man drank with his friends, not because he wanted ardent spirit, but because it was fashionable, and became fond of the practice, became a drunkard, merely by complying with what he supposed were the rules of good breeding, and the marks of hospitality and good feeling. But enough of this.

The effects of Intemperance next claim our attention.— Here I might enlarge, here I might present scenes over which humanity should weep with bleeding heart. But I speak not to passion. My appeal is to sober sense.

Ardent spirit is composed of alcohol and water, combined in about equal quantities. Alcohol is composed of hydrogen, carbon and oxygen, in proportions of about 14, 52, 34, parts to the hundred. In itself it is a poison.When taken in any quantities it deranges healthy action, in large quantities suddenly destroys life. When mixed with water, as in ardent spirit, its effects are modified, but by no means prevented.

Ardent spirit, when taken in small quantities, stimulates the whole system, gives energy to all its active powers, and for a moment produces an exuberance of life, by no means unpleasant. For a moment the beggar forgets his rags, the blind his loss of sight, the aged the departure of his youth, and the sorrowful his grief. For a mo

ment-aye, for a moment; the pleasure is barely sipped, before it turns to pain. There was poison in that fancied

nectar.

There is a just medium in the human system that should be maintained. That constitution lasts longest, moves on easiest and performs its functions best which is exposed to neither too great nor too little action. If you stimulate, raise the system above its natural level, give it an excess of action, you derange and weaken its powers. A moderate glass excites our active powers, raises us above ourselves; but we ought to remember that our systems are too delicate to bear for a great length of time, this unnatural excitement. We soon sink as much below our