which was best adapted to his auditory.  This being concluded, he commenced distributing the medal, for which every one who received it, gave a shilling, the latter at the same time repeating the following words:  “I promise, so long as I shall continue a member of the Teetotal Temperance Society, to abstain from all intoxicating liquors, unless recommended for medical purposes, and to discourage by all means in my power the practice of intoxication in others.”  Father Matthew then said, “May God bless you, and enable you to keep your promise!”

Such was the simple ceremony by which millions have been rescued from those terrible evils that have so long cursed and afflicted society in this country.

In this large concourse there stood one individual, who presented in his person such symptoms of a low, grovelling, and unremitting indulgence in drink, as were strikingly observable even amidst the mass of misery and wretchedness that was there congregated.  It is rarely, even in a life, that an object in human shape, encompassed and pervaded by so many of the fearful results of habitual drunkenness, comes beneath observation.  Sometimes we may see it in a great city, when we feel puzzled, by the almost total absence of reason in the countenance, to know whether the utter indifference to nakedness and the elements, be the consequence of drunken destitution, or pure idiocy.  To this questionable appearance had the individual we speak of come.  The day was now nearly past, and the crowd had considerably diminished, when this man, approaching Father Matthew, knelt down, and clasping his skeleton hands, exclaimed—­

“Father, I’m afeard I cannot trust myself.”

“Who can?” said Father Matthew; “it is not in yourself you are to place confidence, but in God, who will support you, and grant you strength, if you ask for it sincerely and humbly.”

These words, uttered in tones of true Christian charity, gave comfort to the doubting heart of the miserable creature, who said—­

“I would wish to take the pledge, if I had money; but I doubt it’s too late—­too late for me!  Oh, if I thought it wasn’t!”

“It’s never too late to repent,” replied the other, “or to return from evil to good.  If you feel your heart inclined to the right I course, do not let want of money prevent you from pledging yourself to sobriety and temperance.”

“In God’s name, then, I will take it,” he replied; and immediately repeated the simple words which constitute the necessary form.

“May God bless you,” said Father Matthew, placing his hand on his head, “and enable you to keep your promise!”

This man, our readers already guess, was Art Maguire.