“’Out of seven hundred convicts examined at the New York state prison, six hundred were confined for crimes committed under the influence of liquor, and five hundred said they had been led to drink by the use of tobacco."[G]

[Footnote G:  J.E.  Vose, in the “Family Christian Almanac,” for 1876.]

“Ah ha, ah ha! um h’m! ah ha! that’s strongly put,” remarked Mr. Lilburn, reflectively.  “I’m afraid I’ll have to give it up.  What say you, sir?” turning to Mr. Daly, “has a man a right to a choice in such a matter as this? a right to injure his body—­to say nothing of the mind—­by a self-indulgence the pleasure of which seems to him to overbalance the possible or probable suffering it may cause?”

“No, sir; ’What! know ye not that your body is the temple of the Holy Ghost which is in you, which ye have of God, and ye are not your own?  For ye are bought with a price:  therefore glorify God in your body, and in your spirit which are God’s.’”

“Right, sir, I was thinking of those words of the apostle, and also of these other, ’If any man defile the temple of God, him shall God destroy:  for the temple of God is holy, which temple ye are.’

“We certainly have no right to injure our bodies either by neglect or self-indulgence.  ’Know ye not that your bodies are the members of Christ?’ and again, ’I beseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that ye present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God, which is your reasonable service.’”

“It must require a good deal of resolution for one who has become fond of the indulgence to give it up,” remarked Mr. Daly.

“No doubt, no doubt,” returned Mr. Lilburn, “but, ’If thy right eye offend thee, pluck it out, and cast it from thee, for it is profitable for thee that one of thy members should perish, and not that thy whole body should be cast into hell.’”

There was a pause broken by young Horace, who had been watching a group of men gathered about a table at the further end of the room.

“They are gambling yonder, and I’m afraid that young fellow is being badly fleeced by that middle aged man opposite.”

The eyes of the whole party were at once turned in that direction.

“I’m afraid you’re right, Horace,” said Mr. Travilla, recalling with an inward shudder, the scene he had witnessed in a gambling hell many years ago, in which the son of his friend Beresford so nearly lost his life.  “What can be done to save him? some effort must be made!” and he started up as if with the intention of approaching the players.

“Stay a moment,” exclaimed Lilburn in an undertone, and laying a detaining hand upon Travilla’s arm, but with his gaze intently fixed upon the older gamester.  “Ah ha! um h’m! that fellow is certainly cheating.  I saw him slip a card from his coat sleeve.”

The words had scarcely passed his lips when a voice spoke apparently close at the villain’s side.