feast with the clank of a madman's chain!

Stop and look into the window of that pawnbroker's shop. Elegant furs.
Elegant watches. Elegant scarfs. Elegant flutes. People stand with a
pleased look gazing at these things; but I look in with a shudder, as
though I had seen into a window of hell.

Whose elegant watch was that? It was a drunkard's watch!

Whose furs? They belonged to a drunkard's wife!

Whose flute? Whose shoes? Whose scarf? They belonged to a drunkard's
child!

If I could, I would take the three brazen balls hanging at the
door-way, and clang them together until they tolled the awful knell
of the drunkard's soul. The pawnbroker's shop is only one eddy of the
great stream of municipal drunkenness.

Stand back, young man! Take not the first step in the path that leads
here. Let not the flame of strong drink ever scorch your tongue. You
may tamper with these things and escape, but your influence will be
wrong. Can you not make a sacrifice for the good of others?

When the good ship _London_ went down, the captain was told that there
was a way of escape in one of the life-boats. He said--"No; I will go
down with the rest of the passengers!" All the world acknowledged that
heroism.

Can you not deny yourself insignificant indulgences for the good of