Such was the simple ceremony by which millions have been rescued from those terrible evils that have so long cursed and afflicted society in this country. In this large concourse there stood one individual, who presented in his person such symptoms of a low, grovelling, and unremitting indulgence in drink, as were strikingly observable even amidst the mass of misery and wretchedness that was there congregated. It is rarely, even in a life, that an object in human shape, encompassed and pervaded by so many of the fearful results of habitual drunkenness, comes beneath observation. Sometimes we may see it in a great city, when we feel puzzled, by the almost total absence of reason in the countenance, to know whether the utter indifference to nakedness and the elements, be the consequence of drunken destitution, or pure idiocy. To this questionable appearance had the individual we speak of come. The day was now nearly past, and the crowd had considerably diminished, when this man, approaching Father Matthew, knelt down, and clasping his skeleton hands, exclaimed-- “Father, I'm afeard I cannot trust myself.” “Who can?” said Father Matthew; “it is not in yourself you are to place confidence, but in God, who will support you, and grant you strength, if you ask for it sincerely and humbly.” These words, uttered in tones of true Christian charity, gave comfort to the doubting heart of the miserable creature, who said-- “I would wish to take the pledge, if I had money; but I doubt it's too late--too late for me! Oh, if I thought it wasn't!” “It's never too late to repent,” replied the other, “or to return from evil to good. If you feel your heart inclined to the right I course, do not let want of money prevent you from pledging yourself to sobriety and temperance.” “In God's name, then, I will take it,” he replied; and immediately repeated the simple words which constitute the necessary form. “May God bless you,” said Father Matthew, placing his hand on his head, “and enable you to keep your promise!” This man, our readers already guess, was Art Maguire. Having thus taken the medal, and pledged himself to sobriety, and a total abstinence from all intoxicating liquors, his first feeling was very difficult to describe. Father Matthew's words, though few and brief, had sunk deep into his heart, and penetrated his whole spirit. He had been for many a long day the jest and jibe of all who knew him; because they looked upon his recovery as a hopeless thing, and spoke to him accordingly in a tone of contempt and scorn--a lesson to us that we never should deal harshly with the miserable. Nor, however, he had been addressed in accents of kindness, and in a voice that proclaimed an interest in his welfare. This, as we said, added to the impressive spirit that prevailed around, touched him, and he hurried home.