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this apply to us. Temperance propogandism is hard work, up hill, hard-pulling work, and yet 'tis pleasant, for the higher we get up the hill, the better is the prospect. We see here and there the results of our labours,—a conciliated press, an approving church, an apologizing public, a growing Band of Hope Union, a sturdy phalanx of veteran heroes, alliances, and leagues, a noble confederation,-but only the beginning of better times; the full flowing tide and plenteous showers have to come. But work on! they will come, and wash away moral impurities, the accumulations of ages. We may look for a bright opening season, a new day to dawn on the world, a season fresh as spring, when poverty will be rare, crime creep into corners, and plenty fill our land. 'Tis the high principle of religion that must fully bless us, but, with the drink banished, how speedily would the good time come. Let us then labour for this end, and let 1862 see a renewed effort put forth by every honest worker in the Temperance cause. So shall we end the old year well, and be ready to welcome the dawn of 1863.

PASSING TOPICS.

GOOSE CLUBS. Many of the publicans are busy with their "Goose Clubs." They are a cunning invention of the fraternity for filling their tills with "Fool's Pence." The plan of the club is very simple. The member pays sixpence per week for nineteen weeks, and a shilling in the twentieth week, and for this he gets a goose and a bottle of gin. The victim, you see, must go twenty-one times to the bar before he can "cook his goose," and swallow his gin. How much does he spend upon his Christmas dinner? Fifteen, twenty, and thirty shillings. No man can go, pay his money, and come away. He must and does drink for the good of the goose-maker, and join in the revelry which goes on from week to week. Now, why should not every temperance society have its goose club, and thus checkmate the publican? Many would glady join such a savoury institution, and eat the fat and drink the sweet without loss to the pocket, and injury to the mind.

THE BAND OF HOPE AN AUXILIARY TO THE SUNDAY-SCHOOL.-A paper on "How to Retain our Elder Scholars," read by the Rev. J. P. Chown, of Bradford, at a recent conference of Sunday-school teachers, has just been published. We have pleasure in quoting the following remarks on Bands of Hope :-"There is doubtless some variety of opinion among many warm-hearted supporters of Sunday-schools on this matter; and there have been some things in the management of some of these societies, as is the case in all infant societies, such as their best and wisest friends regret. But the writer speaks from somewhat close observation of one that has been conducted in connection with his own place for the last ten years, and has no hesitation in saying, that he regards its

operations with devoutest thankfulness to God for the good that has been wrought by it, and the most ardent assurance that it shall yield results in the next generation such as are now but little thought of. One good result it has accomplished is that some of the young have been brought through that, as a sort of outer porch, into the Sunday-school, which is the court of the temple; and through that into the inner and holier recess of the church itself, where they are a joy and blessing to all who look upon them. Another good result is, that it brings the young together on the week-night, for engagements a little more cheerful than would be otherwise furnished; such cheerfulness as youthful minds will have, and ought to have, and if they cannot have it pure, they will be drawn where it is impure. And in this way amusement is blended with instruction, and that is crowned by devotion too, for every such meeting begins and ends with prayer and praise. Another result is, that it trains the youth themselves to abstain from that which has been, and is, the greatest curse to our schools and churches; and, next to sin, the fountain of all evil, that we have to fight against and mourn over. It is this that has drawn away and destroyed those in whom often our fondest hopes were centred; and in this aspect of the labours of these societies their tendency must be to save our young folks from temptation into which others have fallen, and to preserve to us those whom we might otherwise have lost."

RELIGIOUS SERVICES FOR WORKING MEN.

By the Rev. G. W. McCREE.

We observe advertisements in the metropolitan and provincial newspapers, announcing "Special Religious Services for the Working Classes." We have entire confidence in the pure and benevolent motives of the promoters of those services, and believe they are animated by a sincere desire to see the masses enlightened, well-fed, virtuous, and happy. They believe in the power of the Gospel to make the hearts and homes of men radiant with peace, love, and holiness. We also are believers in Him whom "the common people" heard so gladly. Fain would we see every working man a christian, but alas! we know that ignorance, brutal violence, destitution, and blasphemy throw their dark shadows over many a poor man's fire-side. We have built new churches and beautiful chapels, but the working classes do not throng to and fill them. have been to Naples," says an eminent London minister, "and have seen the lazzaroni lying upon the quay ; I have been to Rome, and have seen Italian peasants on the steps of St. Peter's; I have seen Greek sailor boys and fishermen from the Adriatic, coiled like so many snakes upon the marble floor of St. Mark's, at Venice ;-but I have never seen types of humanity in so degraded and repulsive a form as I

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have seen them in London. Here we have masses of ignorance and crime far, far more terrible than those fires which are continually blazing beneath the slopes of Vesuvius, or than those billows of brimstone which once rolled over the cities of the plain." In all our great cities there is gorgeous wealth and squalid poverty, debasing ignorance and exalted knowledge, revolting crime and beautiful virtue; but does not the ignorance exceed the knowledge, and the crime surpass the virtue ? When we are told that one newspaper, containing reports of a prize-fight, sold to the extent of 300,000 copies, may we not fear that thousands of our fellow-countrymen lay no restraint upon their passions, and wallow in the filthiest depths of vice? That special efforts are needed for the evangelization of the masses we quite believe. A city missionary tells us, that in the district allotted to him he found 212 houses without a copy of the Bible, 815 parents who could neither read nor write, and 1372 children who attended neither day nor Sunday schools; and no doubt nearly every home missionary could make similar statements. If it be true that there are 30,000 disreputable houses in the United Kingdom, and 600,000 persons employed, on Sundays, in dispensing intoxicating drinks, is it wonderful that demoralisation should exist?

Lamenting this state of things, good men have instituted, and, as we think, wisely and kindly, these special services for the working classes; but they may say with Mr. Recorder Hill, of Birmingham, that "whatever step we take, and in whatever direction we may strike, THE DRINK DEMON starts up before us and blocks the way." What fills the hundred and fifty-six jails and houses of correction which blacken the map of the United Kingdom? whence come their 30,000 inmates? whence flows the perpetual stream of pauperism? what makes men beat their wives? what induces working men to rob their masters? what makes the murderer "swift to shed blood?" Is it not the prevalent use of strong drink? Have not Lord Shaftesbury, Mr. Samuel Morley, the Rev. Newman Hall, and all the other zealous friends of the poor found "the drink demon to stand in their path? We think, then, that whoever seeks to establish special services for the working classes, should take care that the principles of total abstinence have a prominent place in their benevolent efforts. We do not wish to have total abstinence idolised, nor lifted out of its proper place, but we do maintain that to ignore the temperance reformation is to commit blunder, and to neglect a fountain of blessing. "I," said a

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reformed drunkard, 66 was once an infidel, but I am now a teetotaller and a christian." And if those christian gentlemen who are expending their money and devoting their time to guide men to heaven, will only add "temperance" to their faith," we feel confident that they will never regret it. The sooner they force "the drink demon" out of the way, the better for their great and glorious work, in which we cordially wish them triumphant success.

66

POETRY.

NO PLACE LIKE HOME.

'Midst pleasure and revelry,
Enchanting my soul,
With reckless delusion,

I quaff'd the deep bowl.
Nor fool that I was,

Dreamt of ruin to come,
Nor thought how they fared
Who still loved me at home.
Sweet home, &c.

The dire spell is now broken,
Drink tempts me in vain,
I defy the proud tyrant,
And freedom regain.
Releas'd from my shackles,
No longer I roam;
Having learnt by experience,

There's no place like home.

Sweet home, &c.

My wife shares my pleasure,

In her eye not a tear;
Wrapt up in home duties,

Her smiles re-appear.
While I sing to our nestlings,

I'll never more roam,

They chime in the chorus,

There's no place like home.

The Vicarage, East Cowton.

Sweet home, &c.
T. HOLME.

I WOULD GO HOME.

"I would go home! Fain to my Father's house, Fain to my Father's heart!

Far from the world's uproar, and hollow vows,

To silent peace, apart.

With thousand hopes in life's gay dawn I rang'd,

Now Homeward wend with chasten'd heart, and chang'd: Still to my soul one germ of hope is come,

I would go home!

"I would go home, vex'd with thy sharp annoy
Thou weary world and waste;

I would go home, disrelishing thy poor joy;
Let those that love Thee, taste!

Since my God wills it, I my cross would bear,
Would bravely all the appointed hardness share;
But still my bosom sighs, where'er I roam,

For home, sweet home!

"I would go home! My happiest dreams have been
Of that dear fatherland!

My lot be there; in heaven's all cloudless scene;
Here, flits mirage, or sand!

Bright summer gone, the darting swallows spread
Their wings from all our vales re-visited,
Soft twittering, as the fowler's wiles they flee,
Home, home for me!

"I would be home! They gave my infancy

Gay pastime, luscious feast;

One little hour I shar'd the childish glee,

But soon my mirth had ceas'd;

While still my playmates' eyes with pleasure shone,

And but more sparkled as the sport went on;
Spite of sweet fruits and golden honey-comb,

I sighed for home!

"I would be home! To shelter steers the vessel;
The rivulet seeks the sea;

The nursling in its mother's arms will nestle;
Like them, I long to flee!

In joy, in grief, have I tun'd many a lay,

Griefs, joys, like harp-notes, have now died away.
One hope yet lives! To heaven's paternal dome,
Ah! take me home!"

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