husband; that there was not a quieter man living than he when sober. Just so! says Dr. Lees. The God-made creature was a quiet man and a good husband. What made him a demon? asks the doctor.-Drinking. What tempted him to drink?—The publican. What licensed the chartered libertine to do so?-The law. What upholds the law, and casts the guilt of the transaction upon the Creator of sober men?-The venal portion of the public press.

Corkscrews have sunk more people than cork jackets will ever save. Alcoholic sunshine springs from the jet of a foreign fountain: but as a drug it is not valueless; its proper place is on the chemists' and apothecaries' shelves

"For naught so vile that on the earth doth live,

But to the earth some special good doth give."

Smoking is the personification of selfishness. Nearly all smoke-imbibers overlook the distinction between men as intellectual and as sympathetic beings-as knowing and doing as percipient and impulsive. Pray, what energy has the man (physical or mental) who is automatic daily under the influence of a sedative? Pre-supposing he has imbibed good principles, implanted by the highest code of humanising ethics,-what cares he for the modus operandi of the weed upon the ganglionic or any other sentient nerve? The vis inertia from the narcotic making him non se ipse (alias tipsy), subverts and overwhelms every principle that has for its aim "loving your neighbour as yourself." Dr. Lees well says "The highest truth must be crystallized into habit, must get confirmed.

Philip drunk from 'calamity water,' is very different from Philip sober: and he knows it just as well as the appellant. King Demos knows full well that he is better sober: nevertheless, if the temptation be thrown in his way, Demos will drink." "Custom," said Confucius, "is the symbol of virtue which tends to preserve it, which recals it to memory, and which sometimes takes its place." With many, custom and habit honour the law, where the reason is not even known. Arbitrary habits cannot destroy them, nor the attacks of adversity shake them off; we may strive to flee them, but they will follow us as the shadow follows the body; we may use efforts to dispossess them out of our bosoms, but they will maintain their empire till the frail fleshy coil is mingled with the original dust. Where is the anti-tobacco philanthropist, who in the full tide of his beneficence has not held many a controversial argument with his neighbour against this bewitching and besetting sin? Just picture to yourself, reader, the misery versus happiness, the slavery versus liberty of men in whom the inferior propensities predominate. The hater of non-naturals, the freedman, observes to the captive of nicotine,-"What, are you entering into your fool's paradise again-borrowing money upon heavy interest, forgetful of sequences?" "Yes," says the willing captive, with great energy and spirit; "yes, and I mean to have it as long as I can get it, if in the upshot I am sucked up within the vortex of the River Styx. Habit has become my master, and if persons of your kidney talk and reason in the most argumentative and masterly style possible, my animal

sentiments shall take the lead of the moral sentiments :" he virtually says "I do not value free agency, the abuse of which is the cause of every suffering. I will have my pipe," says he, more emphatically still; "even if it leads to the must drivelling idiotcy, or maudlin imbecility." The inhalation of æther, chloroform, smoking of opium, and all other narcotic vapours, come under the same category. They delight the animal sensations, while they destroy the moral sentiments: they introduce their victims into a fool's paradise; they mock them with joys which end in sorrows; with happiness which leads to misery; with corruscations of life which are extinguished in premature death. Let every one who values free agency, beware of the slavery of all non-naturals!

Drunkenness seems yet to be the besetting and customary sin of a large portion of the English population; and to its prevalence may be attributed the greater part of the crime, and of the social disorganisation, that alarm and puzzle the speculative philanthropist. We re-echo the query-How is it that the physical laws are not taught, or even dreamt of, in our schools? How is it that this vital muscular fact is treated with so much apathy?-how we live, move, and have our being? Our monitors evidence an indifference which is anything but commendable. Enjoy all the Creator's gifts cheerfully, but in moderation; and be not deceived when you see (we hope, very rarely) a grey-haired glutton, or a drunkard of four-score; and do not say to yourself-O! I can feast-I can carouse without stint. Here is a hog that has grunted in Epicurus's stye for eighty years. Remember, that a drunkard who has

taken no hurt from his excesses, is no more proof of the innocuousness of drunkenness, than a soldier who has been to the wars and never been wounded, is of the absence of danger in battle. When the organic laws and the science of life are taught, very different results may be expected; and not till then.

If the object of instruction be to elevate our nature by great moral qualities, or to enrich our experience by sound, vigorous, and practical ideas, we repeat, the body must primarily be made the substratum of all morality—here the lever must first point. It is said the Athenians were the most intelligent community the world ever saw; and yet there were few of those who had conquered the Persians, or gazed on the Pantheon, or listened to Pericles, or applauded the works of Eschylus or Sophocles, who could read or write. What was it that taught them to be aspiring, yet practical—to be valiant, yet humane? Why, that which teaches the Englishman, the talk and habits of every-day life, the custom of self-government, the consciousness of liberty, and the electric transit of stirring ideas, which result from the common interest of public affairs, the constant intercourse between man and man: that frank publicity of opinion, and that sympathy of united numbers which carry to the multitude-even the unlettered multitude-every useful and ennobling thought which genius or study originates in the few. It is all this which teaches the Englishman, and gives to our people that degree of superiority in the real enlightenment of their common ideas, and the masculine energy with which they carry those ideas into practice.

The ancient Greeks were the finest race of antiquity, because they considered that a sound mind was only half a blessing, unless it was accompanied with a sound body. Brace, then, the nerves, and sharpen the energies, by work, runs, and leaps; cricket, football, and every other healthy exercise we owe to the dear old playground. For wisdom ever echoes nature's voice. Wise men and women all look early upon life as a duty-upon death as a necessity. Work, therefore; economise, watch, pray. So shall you live to a good old age, and your death at last be but an extinction of vitality, without pain or suffering; in despite of the varied trials around us.

We are told by historians that the old Romans had some great virtues, fortitude, temperance, veracity, spirit to resist oppression, respect for legitimate authority, fidelity in the observance of contracts, disinterestedness, patriotism, &c.; but Christian charity and chivalrous generosity were alike unknown to them. We respectfully ask -How could the humanising principles be developed without a suitable preliminary education? The superior advantages which the Romans had over the moderns, rested on their far-superior bodily stamina: temperance, one of their antecedents, was a cardinal virtue. We have only to contrast our effeminating and depressive habitudes with those of the athletic, hardy, and indomitable nerves of the ancient Romans. Cincinnatus, the farmer, has left us an example worthy of imitation, namely-to seek bodily, mental, and moral energy and heroism, by long-sustained exercise in the open air. Down to the present era we have been, generally speaking, more or less gradually