“Now, with our boasted civilization, we support four drinkin’ saloons to one church. Which exerts the widest influence? In one of the finest cities of New England, there are to-day, ten drinkin’ saloons to one church, and a buildin’ owned by the Governor of the state has two drinkin’ saloons in it, the rumsellers hiring directly of him. The Indians, Buddhists, and Brahmins, the savage and heathen races, whom we look down upon with our wise and lofty pity, are our superiors in this matter, for they know nothin’ of drunkenness still we teach them. How will it be looked upon by the Righteous Judge above, that with all our efforts to evangelize the heathen; our money offerin’s of millions of dollars; our life offerin’s of teachers and missionaries; our loud talkin’, and our long prayers; after all the efforts of the Christian world, the facts face us: that for one heathen who is converted to Christ by the preachin’ of the tongue of our civilized race, one thousand sober heathen are made drunkards by the louder preachin’ of our example; are made by us—if we believe the Bible—unfit for ever enterin’ the heaven we make such powerful efforts to tell them of.” “And” says he, “the sufferin’ intemperance has caused cannot possibly be reckoned up by figgers,—the shame, disgrace, and desolation, wretchedness to the guiltless, as well as the guilty. The blackness of despair that is dark enough to veil the very heavens from innocent eyes, and make them doubt the existence of a God—who can permit a nation to make such a traffic respectable and protect it with the shadow of the law.” Says he, “When you have licenced a man to sell likker, and protected him by the law you have helped to make, he sells a pint of likker to a drunkard; do you know what you and he are sellin’? You know you are sellin’ poverty, and bodily ruin, and wretchedness; this you know. But you may be sellin’ a murder, a coffin and a windin’-sheet; sellin’ broken hearts, and a desolate hearth-stone; sufferin’ to the innocent, that will outlast a life-time; ruin, disgrace, despair, and the everlastin’ doom of a deathless soul. Tell me any one has a right to do this? Men in their greed and self interest may make their wretched laws to sanction this crime, but God’s laws are mightier and will yet prevail.” Every word Thomas J. said went right to my heart. You see, a heart where a child’s head has laid—asleep or awake—till it has printed itself completely onto it, that heart seems to be a holdin’ it still when the head’s got too large to lay there bodily (as it were.) Their wrong acts pierce it right through, and their noble doin’s cause it to swell up with proud happiness. Dr. Bombus bein’ dretful excited riz right up, and says he, “How any good man can sanction this infamous traffic, how any minister of the Gospel-—” But here the President made the Dr. set down, for it was Elder Easy’s turn.