“All our property was sold to meet the demands of merciless creditors, the principal one of whom was this very rumseller who turned me from his doors.  A friend furnished us with the cottage in which we have since lived.  Many kind-hearted friends have gathered around us, and we have been happy, save when the recollections of the past rise before us.  Others, beside myself, have had cause to mourn and our town, once inhabited by happy, quiet and contented families, has become noted as a seat of iniquity.

“He who has caused this change is now the wealthiest man in town.  You might have seen his stately palace as you rode up, environed with fruits and flowers.  He lives there; but, within the shade of that mansion, are the wretched hovels of those upon whose ruin he sits enthroned.  He has roses and fruits at his door, but they have been watered by widows’ tears; and the winds that reach his home amid rich vines and laden trees may bear to his ears the orphan’s cry, from whose mouth he has taken the daily bread.”

When the old lady had finished her narrative, she could restrain her tears no longer, and they burst forth as freely as at first.

I inquired whether there were any beside herself who would become interested in a temperance movement.  She replied that there were many, but they wished some one to start it.

I had left a gentleman at the town I last came from, who was an eloquent advocate; and my first act, after listening to the widow’s narrative, was to write a note, and send it in all possible haste to him.

The next day he came; and, if you could have seen the joy of that family as I told them that we had announced a meeting, you would have some faint idea of the happiness which the temperance reform has produced.

From what I had learned, I expected that we should meet with some opposition from the wealthy individual before alluded to, or from his agents, who were so blinded to their own interests that they could not be easily induced to move for their own good.

The evening came, and the room we had engaged was well filled.  My friend arose, when a stone, hurled at him from without, missed its aim, and struck a lamp at his side, dashing it into a hundred fragments.  Little disconcerted at this, he began his address; and, in a short time, gained the attention of the audience in so perfect a manner, that they heeded not the attempts of a noisy crowd without to disturb them.

He continued on.  Men leaned forward to catch his words, and some arose and stood as motionless as statues, with eyes fixed intently on the speaker.  Women wept; some in sorrow for the past, others in joy for the future.  A deep feeling pervaded all.  The disturbance without ceased, and one by one the disturbers came to the door; one by one they entered, and began to feel the truths which the speakers uttered.

The only interruption was made by an aged man, who bowed his silvery head, and, in trembling accents, moaned out, “My son, my son!” These words, uttered at the expiration of every few minutes, increased the solemnity of the occasion, and added power to the lecturer’s remarks, for all knew the story of his son, and all knew that he was carried home dead from the groggery.