THE FRIENDS OF TEMPERANCE REJOICING OVER THE VICTORY.
"I am certain, friends, from my knowledge of the places from which
we have not yet received any returns, that our victory is assured;
for I think we may depend upon those we have received as being
correct, and those which are yet to be reported will help to swell
the majority.
"We should be very thankful, as we are gaining a greater victory
than what was anticipated by even the most sanguine of us. Our
opponents seemed to have been paralysed, and were routed horse and
foot.
"I am more thankful than I can find words to express that such is
the case. When I remember the many who are miserable, degraded
drunkards, without shame, and many of them without honor, who a
few years ago were respectable citizens and worthy of our esteem
and our confidence, but who have been thus degraded by the drink
traffic; when I remember the number of those we once knew, and
some of them amongst the most brilliant in intellect, the purest
in morals, and the best loved of our citizens, who were cut off in
their prime by this fell destroyer--who, if it had not been for
alcohol, might have been with their friends--their hope, their
joy, and their pride; when I think of the miserable, desolate
homes--the brokenhearted wives--the wretched, starving little
ones, whom rum has made so, then I thank God for this victory.
"I have no children of my own. God, in His mercy, has taken them
'one by one.' They are now where no destroyer can enter; but my
friends and neighbours have children, and I see, with alarm, that
some of them are being led to their ruin by those who frequent the
rum-shops in our town; for their sakes I rejoice that this
temptation is about to be removed.
"As I was on my way to this meeting to-night, I called upon one
who was once a happy wife, but who now is a very wretched one, for
her husband has been nearly ruined by this awful curse; one who,
as those who know her best can testify, is a cultured lady, and
her husband was once every way worthy of her, but he is now a
poor, dilapidated wretch--a wreck, mentally, morally, and
physically; and she is now prostrated upon what, in all
probability, will be her death-bed, brought low by the hardship
and mental anguish she has endured; for she and her children--and
God never blessed a mother with better ones--have been reduced to
abject poverty through rum. As I was leaving, she grasped my
hand in both of her emaciated ones, and said, 'Oh, Mr. Gurney, may
God give you the victory to-day! and if the prayers of a wretched
wife and mother can affect the issue, He will. We are being
brought to utter ruin, and if liquor is not kept from my husband
we shall soon both be in our graves, and our children will be
orphans in a cold, cold world. Oh! tell them that a worse than
widowed wife, who is now very near the grave, but who was a happy
wife and mother until the drink-curse blighted her hopes and
destroyed her home, is now praying for the victory. May God bless
you!'
"I am certain, friends," continued Mr. Gurney, "there are hundreds
of such wives in our town and county, and thousands within the
bounds of our fair Dominion who are praying for our success."
When Mr. Gurney, who was chairman of the temperance meeting, which
was held in the Sons of Temperance Hall, in Bayton, on the evening
of the polling day, sat down, there was a lady arose to address
the meeting. When she stood up the audience was immediately hushed
into silence. She had a beautifully modulated voice, full and
round as the notes of a flute, over which she had perfect control,
and that could be heard to the furthest corner of the room.
The speaker was Mrs. Holman, who has since been recognized as one
of the most able prohibition speakers in Canada. Her first
attempts at public speaking was when she addressed the Ladies'
Temperance Association of the town of Bayton, of which she was
president, and then she was inducted to talk to the Sunday-school
children upon the same topic. Her friends were so much impressed
with her ability as a speaker, they urged her to come out and
publicly address meetings upon this subject. At first she could
not be persuaded to do so; the ordeal was too severe, for she was
naturally sensitive, and her refined mind shrank from appearing
upon the platform, where she would be subjected to the taunts of
rough and vulgar men. But finally her sense of duty overcame every
restraining influence, and she came forward as the eloquent
pleader for the wretched drunkards and their wives and mothers,
and their poor, helpless children, the last mentioned of whom, as
she eloquently expressed it, were subjected to unmentionable and
almost unimagined indignities, and had to suffer untold, misery
through the curse of intoxicating liquor.
She, upon the occasion to which we refer, said:--"Friends, we
have gained a great victory to-day. There has been in this
struggle, arrayed upon opposite sides, light against darkness,
philanthropy against, selfishness, virtue against vice, heaven
against hell; and I do thank God for the help He has given us. The
prayers of the vast majority of the great and good in our land, of
the poor, suffering and wretched wives and mothers, have been
ascending like an incense of a sweet-smelling savor in our behalf
to-day; from many a sad heart whose life has been made wretched
and whose home has been made desolate, has gone up the prayer,
'God help the Temperance Cause.' These prayers have been
answered." And she added, looking upward: "Not unto us, O Lord,
not unto us, but unto Thy name give glory for Thy mercy." Her face
shone with a seraphic glow, as she thus offered the glory and
praise unto Him to whom all glory belongeth; and she seemed, like
one of old, to be holding intercourse with God. The impression
that these words, with their concomitant action, had upon the
meeting was indescribable.
"But," she added, "something whispers to me that the hardest part
of our fighting is yet before us. Our victory has been secured in
a manner so easy that I think they intend to make the greatest
resistance now when we imagine we have nothing to do but enjoy its
triumph. I have been informed they intend to fight the Act in
every possible manner, and, as they are inspired by their
selfishness, you may rest assured they will not be very particular
as to the means employed to accomplish their end. I have reasons
for believing that the greater part of the hotels, and groggeries
in this county will not only be kept open to sell, in defiance of
the law, but also to give rum away, when they can in no other
manner accomplish their diabolical purpose of making men drunk.
This town and county is to be made a perfect saturnalia of
drunkenness, and the Licensed Victimizers--I cannot call them by
any other name--promise to pay all the cost, though it should
amount to a hundred thousand dollars. Friends! What care they for
the misery and crime this cruel, heartless course will entail upon
this country? They are utterly regardless of the men who are now
pure, who may be degraded and wrecked, both in soul and body, and
sent to drunkards' graves and a drunkard's eternity. They think
not of the poor wives who will be beaten and bruised, and it may
be murdered, by husbands who have become besotted and brutalized
by drink; nor of the poor, innocent little children who will be
neglected and have to endure barbarity and hunger because of this
course. Their traffic has entirely hardened their hearts; they
care not who suffer so they prosper. God will require a fearful
reckoning from them some day.
"Now, friends, it is for us to do our duty--to work, to sacrifice,
to suffer, and, having done all, to stand. Let us each and every
one resolve that now we have carried this Act, that when the time
comes for it to become law it must and shall be respected; and
that those who violate it with impunity shall be punished.
"I congratulate the men and women who have prayed and worked in
the good cause for the success which has crowned our efforts. Let
us be firm to our purpose, and let nothing daunt us or keep us
from performing our duty, and God will uphold and bless the
right."
When Mrs. Holman sat down there was loud applause, and many were
the vows audibly registered that, God helping them, they would be
true.
Just then an old lady, with hair of snowy whiteness and a face
which, though beautiful with the goodness and benevolence which it
expressed, was marked and seamed with care, arose. Her trembling
limbs had scarcely strength to sustain her body, emaciated though
it was with care and suffering. She attempted two or three times
to speak, but not a word escaped from her quivering lips; and the
tears gushing from her eyes followed each other in quick
succession down her cheeks; and, finally, her pent-up feelings
found expression in short, convulsive sobs. Her inability to speak
because of her emotion had a greater power to move the meeting
than the most fervid eloquence could have had. Soon there was
scarcely a dry eye in the room, and many were sobbing in sympathy
with her inexpressible woe. Her voice was finally heard, and
though low and quavering, the sweetly modulated tones indicated a
cultivated mind and loving nature:
"I thank my heavenly Father," she murmured, "for this day's
victory. He only knows what I have suffered; Rum has blighted and
ruined my fondest anticipations. It has changed a life radiant
with joy into blackest desolation. It robbed me of peace in my
young womanhood. It made my middle age one terrible struggle with
poverty and despair, and has left me in my old age--bereft of all
my natural supports--like an aged tree in a desert; withered and
alone.
"I had a husband, and God and my own heart know how pure and true
he was. It first robbed him of his manhood and his purity, and
then murdered him. No tongue can depict, no mind can imagine, the
torture, the agony I suffered during the years that he was
sinking deeper, deeper into the unholy abyss; nor my utter despair
when they brought him home to me dead, slain by rum, and I was
left with my helpless little ones to struggle on alone. And now my
only son, for whom I toiled, and wept, and prayed, and who was--as
many of you know--worthy of a mother's love, is a wretched
drunkard. Oh! I pray that this victory may be the means of his
salvation, that my grey hairs may not go down in sorrow to the
grave."
When she took her seat there was not a person in the room but was
visibly affected.
Several others made good speeches, but one of the most telling of
the evening was made by the Rev. J. H. Mason. He, though a young
man, had won for himself an enviable reputation as a brilliant
preacher and humble Christian worker. In fact, he had manifested,
by what he had accomplished and by the hold he had gained of his
people's affections, that he was eminently qualified for the
position he occupied.
He was now pastor of the most influential church in Bayton, and
had thrown himself, heart and soul, into the campaign which was
now ended. He said he had borne calumny and insult in the cause,
and expected he would still have to endure it; but, God helping
him, he would, in the future as in the past, do his duty, and had
no doubt but every one who had worked for the end now accomplished
would do the same.
They were about to close the meeting when a man arose and asked
permission to read a communication from the _Globe_. Permission
was given, and he read amid the profoundest silence, the following:
"A BAYTON MAN KILLED ON THE RAILWAY TRACK! THE LAST
OF A WILFUL SON.
"The engineer of the morning train from Belleville thought he
noticed something upon the track, shortly after leaving the city.
He whistled down brakes, and the train was stopped. Upon going
back the horrible discovery was made of the dead body of a man,
with both legs cut off just above the knee.
"The body was lying on the south side of the track, face downward,
and the remnants of his legs on the inside between the rails. Upon
his head was a wound which may have rendered him senseless at the
moment of the fatal occurrence. The man was well dressed and
appeared to be respectable. It is supposed he fell from the train
which had immediately preceded the one by which he was found. The
coroner was sent for and, upon searching the dead man's pockets,
nothing was found but a letter, enclosed in a mourning envelope,
and addressed to Willie Fleming, Bayton. The letter reads as
follows, and founds the only clue to his person and character:
"BAYTON, June 20th, 187--.
"MY DEAR SON WILLIE,--"I received your letter last week, after I
had almost given up hope of hearing from you again. My son,
remember that 'hope deferred maketh the heart sick.' Please do not
cause your poor old mother again to suffer such pain and anguish.
"My darling boy, you have had another warning not to indulge in
strong drink. I would to God, my son, you would take it. Your
course is cruel, and is slowly but surely killing me. God forgive
the man who first led you astray, and the men, some of them in
high position in this town, who have helped on the work.
"Oh! my son, I long to see you, and my daily prayer to our
heavenly Father is that you may become--as you once were--pure and
good. I hope you are now steady and giving good satisfaction to
your employers. No more at present from your heart-broken
MOTHER.
"P.S.--Write as soon as you receive this, and it will save me a
great deal of mental anguish. M. F."
When the man had finished reading, he said: "Most of you know that
that communication brings me the news of the awful end of my only
brother. I am on my way to break it, as gently as possible, to my
mother, but I could not resist the impulse--even in this hour of
awful woe--to come in and read it to you all, that you might be
influenced to greater zeal and nobler sacrifices in the temperance
cause. You know how bright his prospects were a short time ago,
but he has been murdered in his prime by whiskey, and I have no
hesitancy in saying that the man who was the chief instrument in
his destruction is a hotel-keeper in this town who is the strongest
opponent of this prohibition movement.
"Oh, friends! be true to your principles, that many may be saved
from a similar fate; and pray to God for my poor old mother, for I
am afraid this will break her heart."
"I have one request to make," said the Rev. Mr. Mason, "before
this meeting breaks up: Let every person in this room who has
heard that communication read, which comes laden with anguish to a
broken-hearted mother, and sorrow to such a large circle of
relatives and friends, now enter a solemn vow before high heaven,
to do all they can to banish this our curse from this town and
country. All that will thus promise, please stand upon your feet."
In an instant every person stood up.
"My friends," said Mr. Mason, "remember your vow; and remember,
this sad case is only one of many thousands. Oh! what millions of
lives have been and are still being blighted! What hearts are
being blasted and broken by this fearful traffic! May God give us
all power to resist temptation, and throw all our soul into our
endeavors in this cause. Let us now sing, as we never sang before,
"'Praise God, from whom all blessings flow.'"
After singing, the benediction was pronounced and the meeting
broke up.