So pleading his injured stomach's relief, another strong goblet was despatched. The wife was pleased to see the improvement in his manner, though something whispered to her, "All this is unreal."

Time is required to rivet the force of habit; but by degrees, from this fatal period, Charles, whose early virtues had put forth such hopeful promise, began to give way to drunkenness, first in secret, and then, alas! openly.

We must not weary the reader by detailing the numerous gradual steps by which, act after act, scene after scene, this drama of real life was, after some few years, brought to a close. I have related the opening page of the history; the succeeding ones are of very common occurrence. A single episode more, and we close the sad story.

*

*

The wind whistled and howled; the day had closed; night was coming on with heavy clouds and darkness; driving showers of sleety rain soaked the flimsy rags of a slip-shod female, as, drawing them closer together over her high, thin shoulders, she shuffled through the slush with eager haste. Turning the angle of a street, a sudden gust lifted for an instant her starved frame from the pathway, and hurled her like a dead leaf across the road. Recovering herself, she staggered, and stemming the boisterous gale, ploughed her way onwards to the glaring crimson light of a chemist's shop, which she entered, and begged to be trusted for another bottle of medicine.

A demur ensued: the smart, genteel youth at the counter had "no right to send out his master's goods without payment."

"For the love of mercy, sir, do not deny me," pleaded a soft and tuneful voice. "I am promised a shilling to-morrow, and indeed I will bring it the very moment I have it. Could you see my husband's agony, when he has none of this sedative to take, you would not deny me."

These were words of truth; the youth was human, and could

no longer withhold her request. He replied that he would trust her, even though he should have to make good her failure.

The haggard face assumed a look of gratitude; and again its owner is making her way through the storm. Let us follow. Pad, pad, pad, her footsteps are heard, down a deep miry staircase, dismal as a coal-pit, and leading to a large cellar, divided into sections by coarse, unplaned boards. She opens a door, and enters one of the divisions.

Propped in one corner of this dreary vault lay a man on whom death's unmistakeable mark was set. An inch of candle was lighted at the handful of exhausted cinders in the grate; the medicine was poured into a cup and swallowed with avidity. The effort was too much; a fearful convulsion followed. The worn-out nurse gazed breathlessly in terrible suspense. No-not quite gone; the struggling energy of the living principle held on, faintly but tenaciously.

'Lizzy," whispered the dying man (for the glass had done its work—it was Charles Stanley and his wife) "Lizzy, raise my head." Tenderly, as she would have handled a new-born infant, she adjusted the pile of rags and straw which supplied the place of a pillow, and putting her lean arm under, supported the head, looking earnestly for symptoms of revival.

"Lizzy," he gasped out, in the thickening tones of the dying, "oh that I could call back the past! not for myself-for you-to convince you how I now abhor myself; but 'tis too late-too late. When the power was mine, I trifled—I refused to struggle with my foe, till the time came when I could not do so. I had put an iron chain about me. When I look at this horrible state of thingsthis place when I look on you-what you were-what you areand on what is close before me-how can I do anything but sink, sink, sink, into the fathomless gulf of despair." And he sobbed hysterically.

E

In accents of soothing, she told him to forgive himself; that she forgave him; and that with God there might still be found, on a true repentance, forgiveness to the uttermost.

He could no longer speak, but, with effort, tried to shake his head. Stupor came on. Lizzy reached her Bible-read a littlepaused-glanced at the bed-all was still the spark of life had

fled!

Such were the scenes of misery engendered by, and such was the final result of yielding to, the allurements of "The Cheerful Glass."

THE BANQUET TO THE POTATO.

HAT highly respected vegetable the Potato, being thoroughly re-established in health after the Potato Disease, it was proposed by a few of the leading members of the vegetable kingdom to offer a banquet to the worthy and convalescent root on his happy recovery.

The arrangements for the dinner were on a scale of great liberality, and the guests included all the principal vegetables. The invitations had been carried out by an efficient body of Scarlet Runners, and the Onion occupied the chair. After the cloth had been removed the Onion got up to propose as a toast-" the Potato," their much-respected guest. He (the Onion) had known the Potato from infancy, and although they had not always been associated in life, they had frequently met at the same table-they had sometimes braved together the same broils, and they had often found themselves together in such a stew (he alluded to the Irish stew) as had brought them for the time being into an alliance

of the very closest kind. He (the Onion) could say without flattery that society had endeavoured to supply the place of the potato in vain-they had heard of Rice having been suggested to take the place of the Potato, but the suggestion was really ridiculous; he would not detain them longer, but would propose health and long life to the Potato. The toast was received with enthusiasm by all but the Cucumber, whose coolness seemed to excite much disgust amongst his fellow vegetables: the Onion had in fact affected many of those present to tears, whilst the Celery, who sat next the Horse-Radish, hung down his head in an agony of sensibility. After the cheering had partially subsided, the Potato got up to return thanks, but that was only a signal for renewed enthusiasm, and it was some minutes before silence was restored. At last the Potato proceeded as follows:

“Friends and fellow vegetables, it is with difficulty I express the feelings with which I have come here to-day, having suffered for the last three or four years from a grievous disease which seemed to threaten me with total dissolution, and it is with intense satisfaction that I find myself once more amongst you in the vigour of health. I should indeed be insensible to kindness were I to forget the anxious inquiries that have been made as regards my health by those who held me in esteem and sometimes in a steam. I cannot boast of a long line of ancestors. I did not, like some of my friends, come in with the Conqueror, but I came in the train of civilization, amidst the memorable luggage of Sir Walter Raleigh, in company with my venerable friend Tobacco, who is not now present, but who often gives the philosopher a Bird's-Eye view of some of the finest subjects for reflection (immense cheering and a nod of assent from the Turnip Top!). I may not have the grace of the Cucumber (who seems to have come here in no enviable frame), but I may justly say, although a foreigner, I have taken root in the soil, and have done as much good as any living

vegetable, for although always at the rich man's table, I am seldom absent from the poor man's humble board; but," continued the Potato, "let me not get flowery or mealy-mouthed, for there is something objectionable in such extremes. I have been served up in all sorts of ways. I have been boiled-I have been basted-I have been roasted-I have had my jacket torn off my back by those who knew not the treatment I deserved!-but this meeting, my friends, makes amends for all. Excuse me if my eyes are watery, I am not very thin-skinned, but I feel deeply penetrated by your kindness this day."

The Potato resumed his seat amidst the most tumultuous cheering, which lasted a considerable time.

66

THE RELIABLE MAN.

You may rely upon it, sir, your coat shall be sent home this very evening, without fail.”

You

These words met our ear as we were passing along Upper Sackville Street, one of the noblest and most frequented streets in Dublin. It was our first visit to the Irish metropolis; and we glanced around us with the sort of interest which one feels among new scenes and amid a new race of people. The speaker was a dapper little man, with an exquisitely fitted coat, which he wore with a certain jaunty air of satisfaction, as if it behoved the world at large to be acquainted with the result of his artistic talent.

"You may depend upon me, sir; I will not disappoint you," added he, with an obsequious bow to the customer, who was just about to leave his shop.

A few steps further on, we found ourselves amid a crowd of people, who were wending their way to some public meeting at