IN CASE OF SHIPWRECK.—­In the winter of 1796 a vessel was wrecked on an island of the Massachusetts coast, and five persons on board determined to swim ashore.  Four of them drank freely of spirits to keep up their strength, but the fifth would drink none.  One was drowned, and all that drank spirits failed and stopped, and froze one after another, the man that drank none being the only one that reached the house at some distance from, the shore, and he lived many years after that.

IT EXHAUSTS STRENGTH.—­Concerning one cold winter when there were very severe snow-storms in the Highlands of Scotland, James Hogg, the poet, says:  “It was a received opinion all over the country that sundry lives were lost, and a great many more endangered, by the administration of ardent spirits to the sufferers while in a state of exhaustion.  A little bread and sweet milk, or even bread and cold water, proved a much safer restorative in the fields.  Some who took a glass of spirits that night never spoke another word, even though they were continuing to walk and converse when their friends joined them.  One woman found her husband lying in a state of insensibility; she had only sweet milk and oatmeal cake to give him, but with these she succeeded in getting him home and saving him.”—­Bacchus.

SHIPMASTER OF THE KEDRON.—­“I was brought up in a temperance school, and when I shipped before the mast I stuck to my principles, though everyone else on board drank excepting two boys whom I persuaded to abstain.  In a very severe storm off a lee-shore, when it was so cold they had to break the icicles off the ropes to tack the ship, all drank but myself and these two boys.  The men would work very well for a few minutes, and then slack off and take another drink, until they were all keeled up, and we three boys had all we could do to keep the ship from going ashore.  If we had drank with the rest, all would have been lost, for the men were too drunk to save themselves.  Providentially, the storm abated before morning, and we were saved.  Now, for many years I have been captain of my own ship, and I never give out one drop of liquor.”—­Captain Brown.

ON THE PLAINS.—­Twenty-six men, travelling on one of the great Western plains in the United States, were overtaken by cold and night.  They had food, clothing, and whiskey, but no fire.  They were warned not to drink whiskey or they would freeze.  Three did not drink a drop, and though they felt cold they did not suffer nor freeze.  Three more drank a little, and though they suffered much they did not freeze.  Seven others that drank a good deal had their toes and fingers frozen.  Six that drank pretty strong were badly frozen and never got over it.  Four that got very boozy were frozen so badly that they died three or four weeks afterward.  Three that got dead drunk were stiff dead by daylight.  They all suffered just in proportion to the amount of whiskey they took.  They were all strong men, and had about the same amount of clothing and blankets; the whiskey was all that made the difference.