If the drunkard is a married man, his offences and his wickedness are greater still; all that applies to the unmarried man applies to him, and in addition cruelty of the worst kind--cruelty so heartless and so unnatural that, though we know it, we can scarcely believe it possible. The fiercest and most ravenous beasts of prey (though not gifted with human feelings and intelligence) do not desert their mates, nor their young; but the drunkard who is married not only deserts both, but will, to gratify his filthy passion, drink away his income, drink away his status in society, drink away his future prospects, and thus reduce wife and children from the position in which they were born, and had heretofore moved, to want, penury and degradation. Still not contented, but prompted by the horrible love of drink, the married drunkard deprives his wretched, miserable wife of the trifle she earns weekly, striving to stave off actual starvation, sells or pawns everything the unhappy pair once possessed, and the wife dies in the streets of starvation, cold, and misery. This is the natural result of drunkenness when observed in its effects on the classes that live by their daily labour. Let us trace in a higher grade the effects produced by indulgence in this baleful habit. The drunkard before his marriage manages to conceal his practices not only from the young lady he woos to be his wife, but from her friends. He, however, soon shows his colours. If in the army the natural consequence is that he drinks himself out of his commission. By the generosity of his Colonel and brother officers, he is allowed to sell, and the proceeds are made over to his unfortunate wife, who is deeply compassionated by all the regiment. And shall this mean, selfish wretch, who has wrecked the peace and prosperity of those whom he has sworn to love and cherish--sworn on the altar of the Most High--not be answerable? Shall he who has kept his holy marriage vows by bringing privation and misery on those who should be nearest and dearest, not be answerable? Innocence and virtue toiling in distress appeal to Heaven strongly. Man may disregard, but there is One who will not disregard--One who has said: 'Come unto Me all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.' A mother toiling to feed her children--toiling in an altered and reduced position, to which she has been brought by her drunken husband--is too sad, too noble a sight, not to attract the eye of mercy. If the destroyer has one spark of human feeling left, the knowledge of what he has done must be like the fire of hell in his heart and brain; but words in such a case are vain. 'Vengeance is Mine, saith the Lord, and I will repay,' and to the Lord's vengeance such men must be left.