Front Cover
 Front Matter
 Title Page
 The giants and how to fight...
 The first giant
 The second giant
 The third giant
 The fourth giant
 The fifth giant
 The first reason for fighting
 The second reason for fighting
 The third reason for fighting
 The fourth reason for fighting
 Back Cover

Title: The giants and how to fight them
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00082111/00001
 Material Information
Title: The giants and how to fight them
Physical Description: 93 p. : ill. ; 16 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Newton, Richard, 1813-1887
Kelly, Charles H ( Publisher )
Publisher: Charles H. Kelly
Place of Publication: London
Publication Date: [1893?]
Subject: Christian life -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Paganism -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Selfishness -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Avarice -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Temper -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Alcoholism -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Publishers' advertisements -- 1893   ( rbgenr )
Bldn -- 1893
Genre: Publishers' advertisements   ( rbgenr )
novel   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage: England -- London
Statement of Responsibility: by Richard Newton.
General Note: Date of publication from prize inscription.
General Note: Publisher's advertisements follow text.
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00082111
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002234930
notis - ALH5369
oclc - 213098675

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover 1
        Front Cover 2
    Front Matter
        Page 1
        Page 2
    Title Page
        Page 3
        Page 4
    The giants and how to fight them
        Page 5
        Page 6
        Page 7
        Page 8
        Page 9
        Page 10
        Page 11
        Page 12
    The first giant
        Page 13
        Page 14
        Page 15
        Page 16
        Page 17
        Page 18
        Page 19
        Page 20
        Page 21
        Page 22
        Page 23
        Page 24
    The second giant
        Page 25
        Page 26
        Page 27
        Page 28
        Page 29
        Page 30
    The third giant
        Page 31
        Page 32
        Page 33
        Page 34
        Page 35
        Page 36
        Page 37
        Page 38
    The fourth giant
        Page 39
        Page 40
        Page 41
        Page 42
        Page 43
        Page 44
    The fifth giant
        Page 45
        Page 46
        Page 47
        Page 48
        Page 49
        Page 50
        Page 50a
        Page 51
        Page 52
        Page 53
    The first reason for fighting
        Page 54
        Page 55
        Page 56
        Page 57
        Page 58
    The second reason for fighting
        Page 59
        Page 60
        Page 61
        Page 62
        Page 63
        Page 64
        Page 65
        Page 66
        Page 67
        Page 68
        Page 69
        Page 70
    The third reason for fighting
        Page 71
        Page 72
        Page 73
        Page 74
        Page 75
        Page 76
    The fourth reason for fighting
        Page 77
        Page 78
        Page 79
        Page 80
        Page 81
        Page 82
        Page 83
        Page 84
        Page 85
        Page 86
        Page 87
        Page 88
        Page 89
        Page 90
        Page 91
        Page 92
        Page 93
    Back Cover
        Back Cover 1
        Back Cover 2
Full Text


The Baldwin Library

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AND 20. 22. ST. BtIDe 87.. E.C.



'So David prevailed over the Philistine with a sling and
with a stone, and smote the Philistine, and slew him.'-1 SAM.
xvii. 50.
THE Philistine spoken of here was the giant
Goliath. Now let us put the word Giant instead
of the Philistine, and then the text will read in this
way :-' So David prevailed over the giant with a sling
and with a stone, and smote the giant, and slew
him.' All young people like to hear and read stories
about giants. I suppose there is hardly a person in
this country who knows how to read but who has read
the famous history of 'Jack the Giant Killer.' I
remember, when a very little boy, reading it, and
thinking what a wonderful history it was. I need
not tell you, however, that that history has not a
word of truth in it. No such person as the celebrated


'Jack' ever lived. And the giants he is said to have
killed so nimbly, never lived either.
But the verse we have taken for our text tells us
about David the Giant Killer. He was a real person.
He actually lived about three thousand years ago.
And the giant, whom he killed, was a real live giant.
Goliath, the giant whom David killed, was six cubits
and a span in height.
There are different opinions about the size of the
Jewish measure called a cubit. One of these opinions
is that it was twenty-one inches, and about two-thirds
of an inch. At this rate, six cubits would be about
eleven feet four inches. A span is six inches. This,
added to the other would give us eleven feet ten
inches as Goliath's height. Now take two men, each
of whom is five feet eleven inches high; let one of
them stand upon the head of the other, making, as it
were, one man; and suppose him to be stout and
strong in proportion to his height, and then you would
have a man of about Goliath's size. The coat of mail
that he wore weighed about one hundred and fifty
pounds. His armour altogether weighed about two
hundred and seventy-two. That is nearly as much
as five fifty-six-pound weights. The armour of an
ordinary soldier in those times weighed about sixty
pounds. How frightful it must have been to see this
vast creature, with all his armour on, and his huge




spear in his hand, stalk forth before all the army of
the Israelites, and dare any one of them to come out,
and fight with him! We do not wonder that all the
soldiers fled away at his approach, and that no one was
willing to go and fight him. And we admire very
much the courage of David, and his confidence in God,
that he, a mere shepherd's boy, was willing, with
nothing in his hand but a sling and a stone, to go and
do battle with this great giant. You know how angry
the giant was when he saw this beardless boy come
against him; and what dreadful things he threatened
to do to David; and how David ran and took a stone,
and slung it; and how it went whizzing along, till it
hit him in the forehead, and he fell senseless to the
Some people pretend to think that it was hardly
possible for David to throw a stone with sufficient
force to sink into the giant's head. One of this class,
a foolish young man, who pretended not to believe the
Bible, was once riding in a stage-coach, which was full
of passengers. He was trying to ridicule some of the
Bible stories. Among others, he spoke of this one
about David and the giant. He said he thought the
giant's head must have been too hard for a boy, like
David, to send a stone into it; and turning to an old
Quaker gentleman, who sat in the corner of the coach,
he asked, 'What do you think about it, Sir?'


'Friend,' said the old gentleman, in a dry, quiet way,
'I'll tell thee what I think: if the giant's head was as
soft as thine, it must have been very easy for the stone
to get in.'
But David DID kill the giant. Yes, and we read
about several of the giant's brothers who were killed
in David's time. The whole family of them was
destroyed. But the giants are not all dead yet. There
ARE giants in the earth in these days; and God expects
us all to engage in the work of trying to fight them.
When I speak of giants now, I do not mean physical
giants, but moral giants. I do not mean men with
huge bodies four or five times larger than common-
sized men; but I mean GREAT SINS of different kinds,
which may well be called giants.
I want now to speak about five giants that we
should all unite in trying to fight against. One of
these is a good way off from us; but the rest are very
near us. Listen to me, while I tell you who these giants
are, and the way in which we must try to fight them.



:' i$ld



T HE first giant I am to speak of, is the GIArr
This giant does not live here. He is found in
countries where the Gospel is not known. His castles
may be seen in Africa, and in India, in China, and in
the islands of the sea. He is a huge giant. He has a
great many heads, more indeed than I can pretend to
count. In every country where idols are worshipped.
one of the heads of this giant may be found. One of
these heads is called Juggernaut; another is called
Brahma; another Buddha, and many such like names.
This giant is very strong, and very cruel. We read in
that interesting book called 'Pilgrim's Progress,'
about a giant whose name was Despair, and who lived
in a castle called Doubting Qastle. He used to seize
the pilgrims to the heavenly city, as they ventured on
his grounds. When he had caught them, he thrust
them into a dark, dismal -dungeon, beat them with his
great club, and treated them so badly that many of them

* 13


were driven to kill themselves. He was a very strong
giant, and very cruel. And Heathenism, the giant of
whom I am speaking, is just like him in these
HE IS VERY STRONQ. He is so strong that he keeps
six hundred millions of people in his dungeons. They
are bound hand and foot. They cannot possibly get
out, till the friends of Jesus attack the giant, and
make him let go of them.
And he is VERY CRUEL, as well as very strong. The
things that are done in some of his dungeons show how
cruel he is. Look at India. There is Juggernaut, one
of the heads of this giant. This idol is kept on a great
heavy car. At certain seasons of the year, when they
have a festival, this car is dragged out. Hundreds of
people take hold of the rope and pull it along; and
while it rolls on, great numbers of men and women will
throw themselves down before the car, and be crushed
to death under its wheels, as they roll over them. For
miles around the temple you may see the bones of the
poor creatures who have been crushed in this way.
In other parts of his dungeon this giant makes his
poor wretched prisoners put iron hooks through the
flesh, on the back of their bodies, and then swing
themselves round, with the whole weight of their
bodies resting on these hooks.
In other parts, he makes his poor prisoners kill a




great many of their innocent children, as soon as they
are born. Sometimes their parents will dig a hole in
the ground, and bury their baby alive in it. Some-
times they will throw them into the river to be drowned,
or devoured by alligators. In some places, along the
river Ganges, there are crocodiles that live almost
altogether on the dear little babies that are thrown in
by their cruel mothers, to be devoured alive by those
horrible monsters.
In the South Sea. Islands, three out of four of all
the children born used to be killed.
In one tribe of people in India, that numbered
twelve thousand men, there were only thirty women.
All the rest had been killed when they were young.
In the city of Pekin many infants are thrown out
into the streets every night. Sometimes they are
killed, at once, by the fall. Sometimes they are
only half killed, and linger, moaning in agony, till the
morning. Then the police go round and pick them up,
and throw them altogether into a hole, and bury
In Africa the children are sometimes burnt alive.
In India they are sometimes exposed in the woods till
they either starve to death, or are devoured by the
jackals and vultures. In the South Sea Islands they
used, sometimes, to strangle their babies; while at
other times they would break all their joints; first


their fingers and toes, then their ankles and wrists, and
then their elbows and knees.
Surely they are horrible dungeons in which such
dreadful things are done And the giant Heathenism,
who makes his prisoners do such things, must be
indeed a cruel giant!
Well, what are we to do to this giant ? Why, we
must FIGHT him, as David did Goliath. We do not
expect to kill him outright. He will never be killed
till Jesus comes again. He Himself will kill the giant
Heathenism. But we can cut off some of the giant's
heads, and set some of his prisoners free. We are
bound, in duty, to fight against this giant. But how
are we to do this ? Just as David did. He fought
against Goliath with a sling and a stone. He picked
the stones out of the brook, and hurled them at the
giant. And this is what we must do. The Bible is
the brook to which we must go. The truths which it
contains are the stones that we must use. When
these truths are hurled against the head of this giant,
they will sink into it just as David's pebble did into
Goliath's head-and he will fall.
A Chinese idolator had become a Christian. He
stood among his countrymen one day, distributing
some tracts. They were taken into the interior of
China, and read. The reading of them led the people
of many towns and villages to give up the worship of


idols. This destroyed one of the heads of the giant.
In the Sandwich Islands another of his heads has been
destroyed; and another in the Islands of New Zealand:

and another in the Fiji Islands. And Sunday-school
children are trying to help in this work, when they
assist in making contributions to the Missionary cause.


We are helping to throw the stones of truth at the
heads of the giant Heathenism. When the Mission-
aries preach of Jesus to the heathen, they are slinging
stones at the giant's head. God directs the stones
which they throw, and makes them effectual to wound
and disable the giant. David never could have killed
Goliath, if left to himself. But God helped him, and
then the stone did its work. And so God will help us:
so He will help all who fight against the great, cruel
giant-Heathenism. Then let us go on, like brave
giant-killers. We are sure to succeed, for God has
promised that the Giant shall be killed at last.
The first giant is HEATHENISM. We are to fight him
by throwing stones of truth at him.

But now let us go on to speak of some other
giants. The one I have just spoken of lives a great
way off from us. The others we are to fight against
live near us. They may be found in our country; in
our own city; in our own homes; yes, even in our
own BEARTos

i'l 'V 1





-T HE second giant I would speak of, is the G ANT
Now, remember, I am not speaking of physical
giants, but moral giants; not of giants made of flesh and
blood, but of giants made of thoughts and feelings. This
giant Selfishness is an intensely ugly-looking creature.
If he could be caught, in a bodily shape, and carried
to some photographer to have his likeness taken, I am
sure that, when you came to look at his picture, you
would think it about the ugliest you had ever seen.
How many eyes have you? Two. How many
ears? Two. How many hands? Two. And how
many feet? Two. Yes, God has given us each two
eyes, two ears, two hands, and two feet, as if it were
to remind us that we are to see, and hear, and work,
and walk, for others, as well as for ourselves. But
how many mouths have you? One. Yes, for we have
to eat for ourselves only, and not for others. But the
giant Selfishness never sees, or hears, or does anything


for any one but himself. If we had a correct likeness
of him, we should see a huge one-eyed, one-eared, one-
armed monster, with his other eye, and ear, and arm
shrivelled, and dried up like a mummy's, for want of
use. The business of this giant is to take people
prisoners, and drag them to his castle. If they stay
there long they begin to grow just like him, ugly, one-
sided looking creatures. I do not mean to say that
this change takes place in their bodies, but it does in
their souls. They learn to love none but themselves.
They think and care for none but themselves. This
giant is trying all the time to bind his chains on
people, and make them his prisoners. He likes
especially to do this while they are young.
But if he does not appear in a bodily form, how
may we know when he is trying to fasten his chains
on us, and make us his prisoners ?
Let me tell you. If you find that you are getting
to think more of YOURSELF than of others, then be sure
the giant is after you. If you see a boy, or girl, enter
a room, and go and take the best seat in it, when older
persons are present; if you see them pick out for them-
selves the largest piece of cake, or the biggest and
nicest apple, when these are handed round, you may
be sure the giant Selfishness is at work on them.
He is fastening his chains upon them; and if they don't
take care, he will soon have them as his prisoners.


Now, we must ALL FIGHT this giant. But HOW are
we to do this ? Not by standing off at a distance, and
throwing stones at him, as we are to do with the giant
Heathenism. This will not do here. No; THIS must
be a close, hand-to-hand fight. We must grapple him,
and wrestle with him. WE MUST FIGHT TEIS GIANT BY
Let me show you what I mean by this. There
were two little boys, named James and William. One
day, as they were just starting for school, their father
gave them each a penny to spend for themselves. The
little fellows were very much pleased with this, and
went off as merry as crickets.
'What are you going to buy, William?' said
James, after they had gone a little Way.
'I don't know,' William replied. 'What are you
going to buy ?'
'Why, I tell you what I believe I'll do. You know
mother is sick. Now, I think I'll buy her a nice
orange. I think she will like it very much.'
'You may do so, if you please, James,' said
William; 'but I'm going to buy something for MYSELF.
Father gave me the money to spend for myself, and I
mean to do it. If mother wants an orange, she can
send for it. She's got money, and Hannah gets every
thing she wants,'
'I know that,' said James, 'but -then it would


make me feel so happy to see her eating an orange
that I had bought for her with my own money. She
is always doing something for us, and I want to let her
see that I don't forget it.'
'Do as you please,' said William, 'but I go in for
the candy.'
Presently they came to the confectioner's shop.
William invested his money in cream-candy; but
James bought a nice orange. When they went home
at noon, he went into his mother's chamber, and said:
'See, Ma, what a nice orange I have brought you!'
, It is indeed very nice, my son, and it will be very
good for me. I have been wanting an orange all the
morning. Where did you get it ?'
'Pa gave me a penny this morning, and I bought
it with that.'
'You are very good, my dear boy, to think of your
sick mother. Mother loves you for this exercise of
self-denial.' And then she threw her arms around his
neck and kissed him.
Now here you see how the giant Selfishness made
an attack on these two boys. James fought him off
bravely by the EXERCISE or SELF-DENIAL. William
refused to exercise self-denial, and so the giant got a
hitch of his chain around him. We shall find this
giant making attacks upon us always. We can only
fight him off by SELF-DENIAL.




T HE third giant I want to speak about is the GIANT
This giant is very large in size, and very strong in
limb; but he has the tiniest little bit of a heart you
ever saw. It is not bigger than a Bantam chicken's
heart. You might put it in a nutshell. The only
wonder is, how so huge a frame can be supported by
so small a heart. But this is not all, for small as his
heart is, it is as hard as stone. We sometimes hear of
people dying with what is called the OssIFICATION of
the heart. Ossification means, turning to bone. When
a man's heart gets hard, or turns to bone, he dies.
According to this rule the giant Covetousness ought
to have been dead long ago. It's a perfect wonder
how he manages to live, with his heart all turned to
stone. But he DOES live; yes, and not only lives, but
is hearty and strong. He is very active. His castle is
of great size, and he always has it crowded with
prisoners. Those whom he once fairly gets into his


chains, find it very hard to break loose. Yet this is
very strange, for he is a most disagreeable creature.
IIe drives the poor away from his door. If a shivering
beggar comes by, he buttons up his pocket, lest by any
means a penny should happen to get or.t. He can
hear about poor widows and orphans starving with
hunger, and perishing with cold, but never sheds a,
tear, or heaves a sigh, or gives the least trifle for their
relief. When he knows of worthy people being in
need, he 'shutteth up his compassion from' them. His
heart is hard as a rock, and cold as an iceberg. He
loves money better than any thing else in the world.
lie gets all he can, and keeps all he gets. He is
ashamed of his name, and won't answer to it. He
pretends that his right name is-FruGALITY. But this
is a great story. Frugality is a very different person.
He is a good, true, honest fellow. I know he is a sort
of SECOND COUSIN of the giant's, and some people think
he looks very much like him; but I don't think he
does at all. At any rate this is NOT the giant's name.
His own, real, proper name is COVETOUSNESS; and his
puny, little, stony heart PrOVES it.
Well, his prisoners all become wonderfully like
him. Their hearts shrivel up till they are almost as
small and as hard as his. But how may we know
when he is trying to make people his prisoners ? Very
easily. When you see people learning to love their


money more than they used to do; when they always
tie their purse-strings very tight, and are very slow
to untie them; when you hear them, all the time,
grumbling about there being so many collections, and
so many calls for money; when you find them un-
willing to give; when you see them wince and wriggle
under parting with a little money, as though you were
drawing one of their eye-teeth out of their heads, then
you may know that the giant Covetousness has got a
hold upon these people.
My dear children, I want you all to fight bravely
against this giant. If you ask, How are you to fight
him ? I answer, BY LEARNING TO GIVE. He hates giving
above all things. It hurts his feelings dreadfully.
Once get into the habit of giving, and he never can
fasten his chains upon you.
Mother,' asked a little boy who was trying to
make a good beginning of the new year, 'how much
of my spending-money do you think I ought to give
to God ? '
'I don't know,' said his mother-' How much have
you ?' He opened his purse, and out dropped, on the
table, a half-sovereign his grandmother had given him
for a Christmas present, a sixpenny-piece and a four-
'There's my half-sovereign, I'll halve that,' said
be; 'sixpence and fourpence are tenpence, and half of


that is five. But, no. I'LL GIVE THE LARGEST HALF TO
GoD. I'll give Him half the gold, and the sixpence.'
I don't believe the giant Covetousness will ever
get a single link of his chain fastened on the limbs of
that noble-hearted boy.
But I want to tell you about a great battle once
fought between this giant and a Deacon, in a church
in New England. We may call the Deacon's name,
Holdfast. -The story is a true one, though this was
not the man's real name. Before Deacon Holdfast
became a Christian, he had been a prisoner of the
giant's for years. The chains of the giant had been so
riveted upon his limbs, that he found it very hard to
get rid of them. Many a sharp conflict they had
together. Sometimes the' Deacon would get the
victory, but more frequently the giant. Still the
Deacon wouldn't give up. He was determined not to
wear the giant's chain. And after the fight that I'm
going to tell you about, he got such an advantage over
the giant that he never troubled him much again. It
happened in this way.
In the same church to which the Deacon belonged
there was a worthy, honest, good man, who was very
poor. This poor man had the misfortune to lose his
cow. She died. The poor man was in .great distress.
The cow was his chief dependence for the support of
his family. He went and told the Deacon about his


trouble, In order to aid him in getting another cow,
the good Deacon drew up a subscription-paper, and
put his own name down, at the head of it, for five
dollars, which he paid over. This made the giant
Covetousness very angry. He took on dreadfully.
He began to rave and storm, and tried to frighten the
'What's the use of all this waste?' he cried.
'Charity begins at home. The more you give, the
more you may give. Why can't you let people take
care of themselves ? What right have you to take the
bread out of the mouths of your own children, and
give it to strangers ? Go on at this rate, and the poor-
house, wretchedness, poverty, and rags, are what you
will come to.'
This made the Deacon angry. His spirit was
roused. He went to the poor man to whom he had
given the subscription, and told him he must give him
back the five dollars. The poor fellow's heart sunk
within him. He thought he should never get his cow
again. But he handed over the money. The Deacon
stood a moment as if hesitating what to do. At last
he said to the poor man-' My brother, some people
are very much troubled with their old women, but I
am troubled most with my oLD MAN. Ho has been
scolding me dreadfully for giving you so much money;
but now I mean to fix him.' And then, turning round,


as if addressing the giant, he said-' Old fellow, I
want you to understand that I mean to give away just
as much money as I think right.' And then, opening
his purse, and taking out a ten-dollar bill, he added-
'I shall now give this good brother ten dollars instead
of five, and if you say another word I'll give him
TWENTY, instead of ten!'
This was a dreadful blow to the giant. It laid him
sprawling on the ground. It took him, as the Bible
says, 'under the fifth rib.' It knocked the breath
clean out of him. He hadn't a word to say.
LEARNING TO GIVE is the way in which to fight the
giant Covetousness.

E l L:i~iii




T HE fourth giant of which I will speak, is the
This giant is not so large, or strong as the others,
but he is quite as ugly. He is found in more places
than the last. He has more to do with young people
than either of the others, though he does attack old
people too, sometimes. He is always in a pet. From
constant pouting his lips have grown horribly thick
and ugly-looking. He is frowning all the time, till
his forehead is as full of wrinkles, and as rough as the
bark of an old oak tree. Sometimes his eyes are red
with weeping, and at other times they are all in
flame with anger. Sometimes his voice bellows likb
thunder; and then again it will resemble the hoarse
growl of a surly dog.
He may generally be found hanging round the
nursery, the dining or sitting-room, ready to pounce
upon the children, and make them prisoners. And,
when he gets hold of them, makes them so ugly and


disagreeable that no one cares to have anything to do
with them.
Now let me give you some signs by which you may
know when this giant is getting hold of a boy or girl.
He generally waits and watches till he hoars them
asked to do-something which he knows they don't like.
Then he is ready, in a moment, to begin his attack.
He makes the eye begin to frown. He puckers up the
mouth; he makes the lips to pout, and swell out to
twice their usual size. The fingers begin to wriggle
about, like a set of worms; or sometimes, one of the
fingers goes into the corner of the mouth. .The
shoulders are seen to twist about, first one way, and
then another. If the boy has a book in his hand,
down it drops on the floor; or else it is flung across
the room. If he is walking, he stamps with his foot,
as if he were trying to get a tight shoe on. If he is
sitting, his feet begin to swing backwards and forwards,
and make a great noise by striking against the chair.
Sometimes he seems to become deaf and dumb. He
hears nothing, and says nothing. At other times he
speaks, but it is just like a dog when snarling over a
Whenever you see these signs, you may know that
this ugly giant is about, and is busy making prisoners.
And if you don't fight bravely against him, he will
fasten his chains on you, and then you will be spoiled.


We always think of Him as the 'gentle Jesus,
meek and mild.' Do you suppose that this giant ever
got a single link of his chain on Jesus? No. Do you
suppose Jesus ever spoke a cross word to any one ?
No. Do you suppose He ever did an unkind act to
any one? No. If we try to be like Jesus, the giant
Ill-temper will never get hold of us. When you are
tempted to speak cross words, or to do unkind things,
ask yourself the question,-What would Jesus do, or
say ? In this way you will always be able to fight off
this giant.
I was reading lately about two little sisters, who
always lived happily together. The giant Ill-temper
never could catch them. They had the same books
and the same playthings, yet they never quarrelled.
No cross words, no pouts, no slaps, no running away in
a pet ever took place with them. Whether they were
sitting on the green before the door, playing with
their dog, Congo, or dressing their dolls, or helping
their mother, they were always the same sweet-
tempered little girls.
You never seem to quarrel,' said a lady, visiting
at their house one day. 'How is it that you are
always so happy together ? '
They looked up, and the eldest answered, I'spose


Ah! yes, its just THIS LETTING that keeps the
giant off. What a beautiful picture that is But see
what a different one this is.
A mother hears a noise under the window. She
looks out.
Gerty, what's the matter ?'
'Mary won't let me have her ball,' cries Gerty.
Well, Gerty wouldn't let me have her pencil in
school,' cries Mary, 'and I don't mean she shall have
my ball.'
'Fie, fie, is that the way for sisters to act towards
each other ?' says the mother.
She'll only lose my pencil,' mutters Gerty, and
she sha'n't have it.'
And she'll only lose my ball,' replies Mary, 'and
I won't let her have it!'
Ah, the giant got fast hold of these two girls.
They didn't know how to fight him. They were not
trying to be like Jesus.

I~ ~ I r"I'--





T HE last giant I. wish to speak about is the GIANT
When a person is making a speech, and giving
reasons to persuade those who hear him to do anything,
he generally keeps the strongest reason for the last.
And so I have put the giant Intemperance last, and
shall say more about him than any of the others,
because he is the most important. He is the worst
giant of the whole lot, as I think you will be ready to
own after you have heard a little about him.
He is a very ugly-looking fellow. When he is in a
good humour, and feels jolly, he puts on a silly face,
and looks very foolish. But when he gets in a passion,
he is awful looking, and it makes one shudder to see
him. He never was very handsome, even when he was
quite young; but as he has grown older, and more
wicked, evil passions have shown themselves more and
more on his countenance, and sin has stamped its
dreadful mark upon his features so fearfully, that he is


now a very monster of ugliness. And he is so filthy,
too, that his whole appearance is disgusting. Gene-
rally he is clothed in rags. Often he is seen covered
with dirt, gathered from the gutter where he has been
lying. His face is frequently all bruised and swollen.
from the fights in which he has been engaging. Some-
times he goes unwashed and unshaved for days together;
and then, with a rough, shaggy beard, and with an old
crumpled hat on his head, he may be seen reeling and
staggering about the streets, a nuisance to the neigh-
He is very, very wicked, too. He breaks every
commandment of God's law. He fills our workhouses,
our prisons, and penitentiaries. If it were not for
him we might dismiss most of our police, do without
half our courts, close our station-houses, tear down our
prisons, and burn our gallows. Sin follows him like a
shadow, wherever he goes. Quarrelling, swearing,
fighting, robbing, murdering, and all kinds of wicked-
ness abound where this giant dwells.
Of all the giants in this country he is the largest,.
the most powerful, and in every way the most danger-
ous. He is stronger here than almost anywhere else.
There was a time when he might easily have been
driven out of the land. But now he has built so many
castles, and gloomy dungeons; he has so many thou-
sands of men in his service, and so much money to use


in his defence, that he bids defiance to his enemies.
More sermons and speeches have been delivered
against him, more books written, more societies
formed, and more efforts made in every way against
him, than all the rest put together.
SAnd though he is thousands of years old, and has
been through hundreds of battles, he does not deem to
grow weak, or stiff with age, like giant Paganism,
that Bunyan tells of in the 'Pilgrim's Progress.' But
every year he seems to get stronger and more active.
And oh! what a sad sight it is to look into his
dungeons Hundreds and thousands of prisoners, in
our land, are bound fast in his chains. He has more
of them than any other giant here. And they are not
from any one class only. The rich and the poor, the
high and the low, are among them. Labouring men,
mechanics, merchants, lawyers, doctors, ministers;
men and women, and even children too, are dragged
into his dungeons. The most accomplished, the most
talented, the most- beautiful, the most amiable, fall
under his power. Thirty thousand captives are taken
from his dungeons, in our own country every year, and
buried in the drunkard's grave. How dreadful this is
to think of
We read in history that a good many years ago,
when Greece was one of the first nations of the world,
there was a great monster, who troubled a part of that


land very much. He made them tiend him, every
year, seven boys and seven girls. These he used to
eat. And every year, when the time came for sending
these poor children, what a scene of sorrow there was!
How the parents cried, and how the friends and rela-
tives cried! And how those who were going to be
slaughtered cried, as they went on board the great
ship, with black sails, that carried the victims to the
monster! Those people thought it was a terrible
thing to have that dreadful plague devour FOURTEEN Of
their children every year. But what was that Grecian
monster in comparison with this awful giant Intem-
perance ? He takes THIETY THOUSAND men, and
women, and children every year, and devours them.
Of course he must be very busy making prisoners
to be able to take so many. He sets a great many
man-traps, and snares, to catch people. The taverns,
gin-palaces, beer-houses, music-halls, and free concert-
rooms, along our streets, are all TRAPS he has set.
There he sits, watching to catch any passer-by, just
as you often see a spider quietly waiting in its
web to entangle some poor fly. Into these traps
people are enticed. They are tempted to drink. They
learn to love drinking. And when this habit is formed,
they become his prisoners. 'But these are not his
only snares.
Sometimes he puts little traps inside of tempting-


looking sugar-plums, to catch boys and girls. He
drops a little wine, or cordial, or brandy, into these
sugar-plums, and then spreads them out in the shop
windows. These are bought and eaten. The taste for
liquor is formed, and so by degrees the giant fastens
his chain upon the buyers, till they, too, become his
Sometimes he spreads a snare in the social evening
party. A pleasant company is assembled. Refresh-
ments are handed round. Wine is poured out. A
young man is asked to take some, but declines. He
is pressed to drink to the health of a friend. He
hesitates, not wishing to hurt his friend's feelings, but
thinks he can't refuse without doing so. The spark-
ling glass is taken. Then another, and another, till at
last he is intoxicated. The giant has fastened the
first link of his cruel chain upon him. The taste for
drink is formed now. By and by he can't do without
it. The giant has bound him hand and foot, and he
is dragged helplessly down to ruin.
These are some of his ways of catching people.
He does not pounce upon them, and drag them off at
once; but he captures them by degrees. Do you
know how a boa-constrictor seizes a sheep, or an ante-
lope ? When he sees one coming, he darts suddenly
forth, throws a part of his huge body around the
animal, then another, and another, till he has bound it


so tight that it cannot move. It is unable to resist
then, and the serpent crushes it to death in his power-
ful folds. Well, just so this giant fights. He does
not bind his prisoners fast at once, but winds himself
gradually about them. Every time they drink liquor
he throws a fold around them. Tighter and tighter he
grasps them, until he has them completely in his
power. When you see a person beginning to drink
intoxicating liquor of any kind, be sure the giant is
after him. You may always know when he is coming,
and I will tell you how. Did you ever see a shark ?
You know what horrible creatures they are, and how
much the sailors dread them. They will bite off a
man's leg, or even swallow him whole, and make
nothing of it. Well, you can always tell when a shark
is about. He sends a little fish ahead of him, called
the pilot-fish. If you see one of these about the vessel,
then look dut for a shark. He is certainly near, and
you will soon see him. Now, the giant Intemperance
always sends a sort of pilot-fish ahead of him. He
never comes before it; but is pretty sure to come after
it. Wherever you see it, look out for the giant. Do
you know what it is ? It is a BOTTLE, or DECANTER.
When you see one of them in use, you may be sure
the giant is not far off.
When a person gets into his power, everything
begins to go wrong with him. His business is


i,.. E;



neglected. His money is squandered. He becomes
unkind to his wife and children, or undutiful to his
parents. He spends for drink that which should go
to support his family. He becomes cruel and hard-
hearted, passionate and fierce. His evil tempers are
roused. They conquer his better feelings. He turns
from the path of virtue, and enters that of vice. That
is a down-hill path, and the giant pushes him on
faster and faster. He loses all sense of shame, and
hesitates not at any sin. There is nothing so mean,
so base, so wicked, that the prisoner of this giant will
not do. His prospects for the future are ruined the
moment he is securely bound. Yes, RUINED: ruined
for time-and for eternity. Misery, poverty, disgrace,
and want, are the portion the giant gives him while he
lives; and, when he dies, he finds the truth of the
Bible-statement, that 'drunkards shall NoT inherit the
kingdom of God.'
This giant Intemperance is the one we are now to
speak about. Is he not a horrible fellow ? And
should we not all engage in fighting him ?

Now, there are two things for us to consider:-
HIm. The way in which, and the reason why, we
ought to fight him.
By fighting this giant Intemperance, I don't mean


going into his dungeons, and trying to get his prisoners
out. This we ought to do with all our hearts, when-
ever we can. But the kind of fighting I am going
now to talk about is, what soldiers would call DE-
.FENSIVE WAEFARE,-that is, how to keep him off
from OURSELVES, so that he shall not make us his
We are to do this BY DRINKING COLD WATER. Of
course I do not mean to put cold water in opposition to
milk,-or tea, or coffee. If we only keep to such drinks
as these, the giant's hands will never be laid on us.
But I mean cold water in opposition to cider, beer,
wine, brandy, gin, and the like, as our habitual drink.
SSome people say that it does no harm to drink a
LITTLE. Let us see whether this is so or not.
Suppose you were on the top of a high mountain,
and wanted to amuse yourself by rolling a large stone
down its side. Some one, standing by, objects to
this sport, telling you that it may perhaps fall on the
head of a traveller, climbing up the mountain, and
crush him to death; or break through the roof of
some cottage, far down in the valley.
no,' you reply, 'I only intend to roll it a
LITTLE WAY. I don't mean to let it go far enough to
do any mischief.' But if you bring it to the edge,
* and push it over, can you stop it when you please ?
Of course not. The easiest, the safest the ONLY way


to prevent any danger, would be, NOT TO SET IT IN
Just so it is with drinking. There is no danger
while we keep to cold water, and let all kinds of
liquor alone. But if we begin taking a little now and
then, we shall soon find it hard to stop; and if the
habit goes on increasing, it will, before long, be almost
impossible to give it up. Every cup we take, like
each successive roll of the stone, only makes the next
more easy.
In the story of Sinbad the sailor, we read that, in
one of his voyages, he landed on a pleasant island.
While walking about there, he met a little old man
who asked him if he would be so kind as to help
him a little on his journey. Sinbad stooped down,
picked him up, and set him on his shoulders. By and
by he began to be tired, and wanted the old man to
get down. But he wouldn't. After a little while, he
asked him again to get off. But still he refused.
Then Sinbad tried to shake him off. But he couldn't.
The man clung on as if for life. So poor Sinbad had
to journey on, and on, with this load upon his shoulders.
Now, if you let this giant once get hold of you,
you will have as much trouble to get rid of him as
Sinbad had with the old man. He" will probably
cling to you for life, and be a load too heavy for you to
bear. The only way is to KEEP UIM oFF ALTOGETHER.


The great Dr. Johnson used to say that it was easy
not to drink at all, but hard to drink a little, and not
soon take a great deal. There is danger in drinking
liquor at all, but there is no danger in not drinking.
One thing is certain; if we use only cold water, we
shall never be made prisoners by this giant. He has
no power at all over those who keep to cold water,
and none of his attempts can succeed against them.
In fairy tales we sometimes read about the cHArMS
or TALISMANS, which the persons there described are
said to wear. These are supposed to have the power
of protecting those who use them from all their
enemies. No one, it was thought, could harm them
while they had these about them. Well, COLD WATER
is the talisman for us, if we do not want to become
prisoners of this giant. He never can conquer us
while we make this our drink.
Now, the next thing we were to consider was, WHY
we should fight against this giant.
There are rouR reasons for doing so in the way
spoken of-that is, by the use of cold water.

WE should fight against the giant in this way, because
We have springs and fountains of water all over

* .



the world. They are found in every land. Wherever
we find people living, there we find water for them to
drink. But we never find anything else than water in
these springs. Springs differ very much, both in
taste and quality. The water from one spring will
have sulphur in it; another will have iron in it; another
will have magnesia in it; another will have some kind
of salt in it; but there never was a spring found in all
the world that had alcohol in it. Alcohol, you know,
is the part of wine or liquor that intoxicates, or makes
people drunk. But alcohol is never found in the water
that God has made, as it comes gushing up, pure and
sparkling, from the earth. Nobody ever heard of a
natural spring that yielded beer, or ale, or porter, or
wine, or gin, or brandy. But if it had been good for
us to have such drinks as these, God would have made
them. He could have made springs that would yield
different kinds of liquor just as easily as He made the
trees to bear different kinds of fruit. If it had been
necessary for us, there would have been, in every
neighbourhood, one or two beer, or ale, or brandy
fountains. But you may travel round the globe, from
East to West, from North to South; you may visit
every country, and examine every stream, and spring,
and well; and you will not find anywhere a single
beer, or wine, or brandy spring.
When God made Adam and Eve, you know He


put them in the beautiful garden of Eden. In that
garden, we are told, 'the Lord God made to grow
every tree that was pleasant in the sight, and good for
food. And a river went out of Eden to water the
garden; and it was parted, and came into four heads.'
This is what the Bible tells us about that garden. We
know it must have been very beautiful. Everything
that God makes is beautiful. When he makes a rain-
bow, how beautiful it is When He makes a butter-
fly, how beautiful it is When He makes a flower, a
tree, a star, a sun, they are all beautiful. And when
God undertook to make a garden, 0! how VERY
beautiful it must have been! What gently swelling
hills !-what level plains!-what shady groves !-what
velvet lawns!-what green, mossy banks !-what
graceful trees !-what fragrant flowers !-what springs
and fountains of cool, crystal water were there!
Everything that was pleasant to the eye and to the
ear, to the taste and to the smell, was there; but do
you suppose that in any part of the garden of Eden
there was a wine or brandy fountain ? No; nothing
of the kind was found there. Well, then, if cold
water was the drink which God gave Adam in Eden;
if cold water is the drink which God has made for us;
and if it is the ONLY DRINK He has made for us, doesn't
it follow very naturally that cold water is the best
drink for us, and the one that we should use in pre-


ference to all others? And doesn't it follow, too,
that we should have nothing to do with the giant
Intemperance, but should resist him with all our
might ?
The first reason, then, why we should fight against
the giant Intemperance is, because COLD WATER IS THE


WE should fight against this Giant, because HE IS AN
He never allows a prisoner of his to possess these
blessings. He does not take them away at once; but,
little by little, he robs every captive of them. The
atmosphere of his dungeons is poisonous.
When one has been a captive oi this giant for
several years, what a picture of disease he presents!
He is only the wreck of a man. His strength of body
and of mind is gone; and his drooping head, his
bloated face, his bloodshot eyes, his trembling hands,
and staggering step, tell plainly what the giant has
done for him. And then comes the delirium tremens,
that dreadful sickness, caught only in this giant's
dungeons, with all its horrors, and hurries the poor
man off to the drunkard's grave.


And those whom the giant only catches now and
then, and who soon escape again from his clutches, do
not get off uninjured. And even those who are really
never made prisoners, who only take a little, do them-
selves harm. Many persons do not believe that this is
so. They think a little wine, or brandy, strengthens
them, and does them good, and that it is only because
some people drink too much, and get intoxicated, that
there is any harm done by drinking. But liquors will
injure if taken at all, although the more we take
the worse it will be for us.
Cold water, however, PEOMOTES health and strength.
There can be no doubt about this; neither can there be
any doubt about the bad effect of liquors.
God is the wisest and most skilful physician in the
universe. He knows what is best for the health and
strength of the people; and He prescribes cold water as
the drink.
Some years ago there was a man who had a severe
wound in his side. It healed at last, but left an open-
ing, with a flap of skin lying over it, and through this
opening persons could see right into his stomach.
The physician who attended him tried a great many
interesting experiments upon him. When he made
his patient drink cold water, and live on plain food, he
found his stomach in a healthy state. When he made
him use beer, or wine, or brandy, for several days, he



found the inside of his stomach inflamed and sore; and
the man would complain of pain in his stomach, and
headache, and say he felt very unwell.
There is an interesting story mentioned in the
Bible that illustrates this point. You remember when
Daniel and his companions went to Babylon, they were
chosen, with a number of others, to go through a course
of training to fit them for appearing in the presence of
the king. While undergoing this training, they were
expected to drink wine and eat certain articles of food,
which a pious Jew did not feel at liberty to use. The
thought of doing this was a great trial to Daniel and his
friends. They could not feel willing to do it. They
therefore asked the officer who had charge of them, to
excuse them from eating the meat and drinking the
wine which the others used, and allow them to drink
water and eat pulse, that is, such things as rice, beans,
&c. The officer was a great friend to Daniel, and he
said he would be very glad to accommodate him and his
friends in this matter; but he was afraid that if he did
do so, they would grow thin and pale, while the rest
would be looking hearty and strong; and then, when
the king came to see them, he would be displeased
with him, and perhaps order his head to be taken off.
Then Daniel asked him to be so kind as to try the
experiment for ten days, and see how it worked. He
did so. Daniel and his friends had rice, and such like


articles, for food, and drank water; while the other
young men ate meat and drank wine. At the end of
ten days the officer found that Daniel and his com-
panions were stouter and healthier than all the rest.
It is a great mistake to suppose that wine and
liquors have the effect of making people strong and
hearty. They have just the opposite effect. There is
no drink that gives more real strength than cold water.
You know how strong the ox and the horse are,
and what hard work they have to do. Well, what do
they drink? Water; and nothing else. Take the
horse, or the ox, after he has been ploughing hard all
day, and is worn out with fatigue. Offer him a bucket
of beer, or wine. Will he drink it? Not a drop.
But give him a bucket of water, and how quickly he
will drink it up. Water gives the horse his strength,
and the ox, and the huge elephant too.
Look at that giant oak tree. How strong it is!
Yet it drinks nothing but water. You know that trees
DRINK, as well as men and cattle. The tree drinks
through its roots and through its leaves. If you break
the tender stem of a plant or tree, you see a milky sort of
liquid ooze out. We call it the sap. Thesap is to the tree
just what the blood is to our bodies. Their growth and
strength depend upon it. But water makes the best sap
for the trees, as it makes the best blood for our bodies.
Take any plant, and let it have nothing but wine or


beer, to moisten its leaves and roots, and it will die.
Suppose it should rain wine or brandy for six months,
what would the effect be ? All the plants and trees
would die.
One day a temperance man met a poor miserable
sailor, who had almost ruined himself with drink. He
induced him to sign the pledge for one year. Jack
liked the improvement in his health and prospects sc
much, that when the year was out, he went and renewed
the pledge for ninety-nine years. He had just received
his wages, which he was carrying in a bag in the inner
side-pocket of his jacket. It looked like a great lump
or swelling there. On his way home, he met the tavern-
keeper, at whose house he used to spend his wages in
liquor, and thought he would have a little fun with him.
'Well, old fellow,' said the tavern-keeper, 'how do
you do?'
'Pretty well,' said the sailor, 'only I've got a hard
lump here on my side.'
'Ah!' said the other, 'it's cold water that has
made that.'
'Do you think so ?'
'Yes, I know it. Only give up your miserable cold
water slops, and drink some good liquor, and it will
soon take the lump away.'
'But,' said the sailor, I have just renewed the
pledge, and I can't do it.'


'Then mind what I say,' said the tavern-keeper,
' that lump will go on increasing, and very likely be-
fore another year you'll have one on the other side too.'
'I hope I shall,' said the sailor, taking out his bag
of silver and shaking it. 'Good-bye.'
Some years ago, a vessel loaded with iron, was
wrecked on the coast of New Jersey in the winter-
time. The hold of the vessel was partially filled with
water. It was necessary to get the iron out before
the vessel went to pieces. The weather was intensely
cold, and to stand in the water and handle the cold
iron was very severe work. The men hired to unload
the vessel were divided into three sets, who were to
relieve each other as often as might be necessary.
The first set of men drank pretty freely of brandy
before they began, in order, as they said, to keep up
their strength. They were worn out in about an
hour. The next set drank hot coffee, and they stood
the work for above two hours. The third set were
cold water men, and they were able to continue at the
work for about three hours before they were relieved.
A good many years ago, the crew of a Danish ship,
numbering sixty persons, had to spend the winter up
towards the North Pole, in Hudson's Bay. They were
supplied with provisions, and had plenty of liquor, of
which they drank freely. Before spring FIFTY-EIHT
out of the sixty had died, leaving only Two men to



return home. Not long after, the crew of an English
vessel, numbering twenty-two men, had to pass a
winter in the same neighbourhood. They had no
ardent spirits with them, and only Two of the company
died during the whole winter.
When ships, on board of which much liquor is
used, go into warm climates, they are always having
sickness and death among the crews : but temperance
ships will often make the same voyages, and hardly
have a single case of sickness or death on board.
This shows how health follows cold water drinkers,
while it flies from the presence of the giant.
But nothing proves this more certainly than to
notice the different effect which disease has on those
who are in the habit of drinking liquor, from what it
has on those who drink water.
When a dreadful disease, like the cholera or the
yellow fever, breaks out, those who drink liquor are
the most likely to take it, and the least likely to get
well of it. The constant or habitual use of liquor
makes the system ripe or ready for disease.
An English gentleman, who was in Russia while
the cholera was prevailing, says-' It is a remarkable
circumstance, that persons given to drinking were
swept away like flies. In one town of twenty thou-
sand inhabitants, every drunkard has fallen I-all are
dead-not one remains 1'


A physician in Poland says-' The disease spared
all those who led regular, temperate lives, and lived in
healthy situations; but they who were weakened by
drinking were always attacked. Out of every hundred
individuals destroyed by cholera, it can be proved that
INETY were accustomed to the free use of ardent
A physician, who was in Montreal at the time the
cholera was there, says, that 'after there had been one
thousand two hundred cases, it was found out that not
a single drunkard who took it recovered; and that
almost all who DID take it, had been at least moderate
There were two hundred and four cases of cholera in
Park hospital, in New York, at one time. Of these only
six were temperate people. They all got well. Of the
rest, one hundred and twenty-two died of the disease.
The cholera prevailed very badly in the city of
Albany in 1832. There were then five thousand
members of the temperance society in that city. Only
Two of them died of the disease. There were twenty
thousand persons there not members of the temperance
society. Among them there were three hundred and
thirty-four deaths from cholera. Only think of this.
Two deaths out of five thousand temperate people, and
MORE THAN EIGHTY deaths out of every five thousand of
those who were not temperate !


These facts prove very clearly the point we are
considering. They show that cold water helps to
make a man strong and hearty, and keeps him free
from sickness; while wines, and brandies, and all such
drinks, weaken those who use them at all, and make
them more likely to take disease.
And if those who never take enough to be made
prisoners by this giant, who only venture on his
grounds and walk about his castle, without ever
getting fairly entrapped, are so much injured by the
poison that comes forth from his dungeons; how must
it be with those who are bound captives and kept in
those dungeons ?
0! then, we should fight against the giant In-
temperance, and try to keep clear of him, BECAUSE HE

WE should fight against this Giant, BECAUSE HE IS AN
The giant Intemperance exposes his prisoners to
many dangers. He makes them unfit to take care of
themselves. They do not know when they are in
danger, and if they did, they are unable to avoid it.
When one of them is walking, you expect every
minute to see him tumble and break some of his bones.


Look in the paper any morning, and you are almost
sure to see an account of some poor man who has been
run over by a locomotive, or drowned by falling from
the wharf at night; and nine times out of ten, if you
ask how it happened, you will find that he was a
captive of the giant. The only wonder is, that all his
prisoners are not killed thus.
And, of course, if they are unable to care for them-
selves, they are unfit to take any care of others. Yet
the lives of hundreds of men and women are often put
in peril, and sometimes lost, by the influence of this
giant on one or two persons.
Who would want to trust themselves at sea with a
captain and crew who were crazy ? Who would want
to travel in a railway train, if they knew that the
driver and guard were either crazy all the time, or
subject at any time to spells of craziness? But a
drunken man is no better than a crazy one. And a
person in the habit of drinking is liable at any moment
to get drunk, and so to become crazy.
But the use of cold water keeps a man from thus
losing his reason, and so enables him to see and avoid
dangers. It promotes safety. How many of the
steamboat explosions and shipwrecks occurring con-
tinually might be prevented, if the persons in charge
of them were only cold water men !
Some time ago there was a steamboat plying on


one of the western rivers of North America. She was
called the Fame. Captain Gordon, her commander,
was a temperance man, and allowed no liquor to be
kept, or used, by any of the officers or crew. About
that time a new safety-valve for steam engines had
been invented, which it was thought would tend to
prevent explosions. It was called 'Evan's Patent
Safety-Valve.' A good many people were unwilling to
travel in any steamboat unless it had one of these
valves. One day a gentleman called on Captain Gordon
in the cabin of his boat, and told him that he and
twenty persons in his company were desirous of going
on in his boat; 'But,' said the gentleman, 'I can't
do it, neither can my company; for I have been below
examining your machinery, and I find you haven't got
" Evan's Patent Safety-Valve" attached to your engine.
For this reason we can't go with you.'
'I shall be very happy to have your company,' said
Captain Gordon. Come below, and I will show you
the best safety-valve in the world.'
They walked down together to the engine-room.
The captain stepped up to his sturdy engineer, and
clapping him on the shoulder, said to the gentleman,
'There, Sir, is my safety-valve-the best to be found
anywhere; a man who never drinks anything but PURE
'You are right, Captain,' said the stranger; 'I


want no better safety-valve than that. We will come
on board, Sir.'
Some years ago a fine ship, called the Neptune,
with a crew of thirty-six men, sailed from the harbour
of Aberdeen, in Scotland. It was early on a fine
morning in May when she started, with the fairest
prospect of good weather and of a prosperous voyage
Not long after she had gone the sky became cloudy.
The wind changed. It came out directly ahead of the
ship, and went on increasing in violence, till it blew a
furious gale. By and by the Neptune was seen stand-
ing back towards the harbour, right before the wind,
and with her sails set, as though it was only blowing
a fair, stiff breeze. She came bounding on before the
storm, like a maddened war-horse. The tidings spread
lil-e lightning, and hundreds of people gathered on the
pier to watch the strange sight. Something was wrong
on board the ship. What coLD it be ? The entrance
to the harbour was very narrow, and beyond this were
ledges of dangerous rocks. Over these the sea is now
breaking in foam and thunder. Right on towards
them the ship is hastening. What caN be the matter?
The people look on in silent horror. Now the ship
rises on a mountain wave, and now she plunges into
the foaming water. An attempt is made to shorten
sail. It fails. She hastens on. A moment more, and,
hark! that thundering crash I The cry is heard-


' SHE'S LOST !-SHE'S LOST !' She went to pieces. One
man alone, of all on board, was saved. He lived to
tell the dreadful secret. The giant was on board of
that vessel. The crew were all intoxicated, and could
not manage the vessel.
Thus we see, that while cold water promotes safety,
there can be no safety where the giant Intemperance
is allowed to come. He is an enemy to it.

And he is an enemy to HONOUR too. You can keep
your honour if you keep to cold water. But get into
the habit of drinking liquor, and your. honour will soon
be turned to shame. The giant Intemperance has such
a bad name among men, that if you fall into his power
your honour is lost. Everything that is wicked, vile,
and shameful, is associated with our thoughts of this
giant. And he makes his prisoners so much like him-
self, that the same disgrace is fixed to their names. So
that no matter how honoured and respected a man has
been before, as soon as he becomes a captive of this
giant he begins to lose his honour.
Men do not like to be called DRUNKARDS. The
name is a mark of disgrace. It points them out as
prisoners of this giant. But every one who drinks
wine or liquor is in danger of becoming a drunkard,
and thus covering himself with shame and dishonour.
Everything that is sinful should be considered as a


shame and disgrace. It is a shame for a man willingly
to lose all his sense and reason, and act like a fool;
but this is what the drunkard does. It is a sha me for
a man to lose all proper feeling, and become as hard-
hearted as a stone; but this is what the drunkard does.
It is a shame for a man to reel through the streets,
and wallow in the gutter like a pig; but this is what
the drunkard does. It is a shame for a man to neglect
his business, and spend his time in idleness, to leave
his children beggars, and his wife a broken-hearted
widow; but this is what the drunkard does. It is a
shame for a man to gamble, and rob, and murder, and
commit all kinds of abominations; but these are what
the drunkard does.
Nearly all the people who live in our workhouses,
who are sent to our penitentiaries, and brought to the
gallows, are led there by drinking. And those who
use intoxicating liquors at all are in danger of being
led into any or all of these evils. Or if not led into
them themselves, they are in danger of leading others
into them. The giant Intemperance carries danger
and disgrace with him. If you would live in safety
and honour, put as wide a space between yourself
and him as possible; drink nothing that intoxicates,
but keep to pure cold water.
The third reason, then, why we should resist this



WE should fight against this giant, BECAUSE HE IS AN
Several years ago, when Barnum's Museum was
exhibiting in Philadelphia, there was, in one of the
rooms, a representation of a cold water drinker's home.
and of a drunkard's home. These were placed side by
side, so as to show the contrast more strongly. The
figures were all of wax, and just about the size of
living persons, so that it looked very real.
The first one represented a good-sized room, with
a neat carpet on the floor, and pretty paper on the
walls. Two or three pictures were hanging against
the sides of the room. A cheerful fire was burning in
the grate. In the centre of the room stood a table
with a snow-white cloth upon it. A tidy, happy-
looking lady was spreading some very inviting things
for breakfast. An easy arm-chair was drawn up near
the fire, and the father was leaning back in it, with the
morning paper, looking very snug and cosy in his
wrapper and slippers. Around the table were a group
of bright-eyed, rosy-cheeked, little ones.
You did not need any one to tell you that comfort
and happiness were there. Everything looked so
pleasant, that one almost felt like opening the door,


and walking in to share their happiness. This was the
cold water drinker's home.
Close beside it was the other scene. It was a room
with bare floor, strewn with litter, and blackened with
dirt. The plaster was falling from the walls and the
ceiling. In the fire-place there were two or three half-
burnt sticks smouldering. An old bedstead stood in
the corner, and a few ragged coverlets lay tumbled in
a heap upon it. The rest of the furniture consisted of
a table, and one or two rickety chairs. A loaf of bread
partly cut, and a bottle on the table, were the only
signs of a breakfast. The father, with his face un-
washed, his beard unshaven, and his hair all tangled
and matted, was beating a trembling child. The rest
of the children were crowding up in the corner, pale
and frightened, but each holding on to a dry crust of
bread. Their faces were thin and sickly. The mother
sat upon the bed, her head between her hands, and
her hair streaming wildly over her shoulders. Thin
and tattered rags were the only clothes any of them
had on. Misery and wretchedness were as plainly seen
there as if written with a sunbeam. This was the
drunkard's home.
Children, which is the pleasantest picture ? Which
would you rather should be your home ?
All the difference was made by the PITCHER and
the BOTTLE. The water in that pitcher had kept the


giant Intemperance away from the first home; while
the rum in the bottle had brought him into the other
one. And it was because HE was there, that all was so
wretched. He always drives comfort and happiness
out from every house he enters. He turns gladness
into sorrow, smiles into sighs, laughter into tears,
wherever he goes. His prisoners are made miserable
themselves, and all about them unhappy too. Mothers
and fathers, wives and children, brothers and sisters,
suffer wherever he comes.

Let me tell you of a mother's sorrow, occasioned
by a drunken son; and of a whole family's sorrow,
occasioned by a drunken husband and father.
A company of ladies, assembled in a parlour, were
one day talking about their different troubles. Each
one had something to say about her own trials. But
there was one in the company, pale and sad-looking,
who for a while said nothing. Suddenly rousing her-
self at last, she said-
'My friends, you don't any of you know what
trouble is.'
Will you please, Mrs. Gray,' said the kind voice
of one who knew her story, 'tell the ladies what you
call trouble ?'
SI will, if you desire it; for in the words of the
prophet, 'I am the one who hath seen affliction.'


'My parents were very well off, and my girlhood
was surrounded by all the comforts of life. Every
wish of my heart was gratified, and I was cheerful and
At the age of nineteen I married one whom I loved
more than all the world besides. Our home was retired;
but the sun never shone upon: a lovelier spot, or a
happier household. Years rolled on peacefully. Five
lovely children sat around our table, and a little curly
head still nestled in my bosom. One night, about sun-
down, one of those fierce black storms came on which
are so common in America. For many hours the rain
poured down incessantly. Morning dawned, but still
the elements raged. The country around us was over-
flowed. The little stream near our dwelling became
a foaming torrent. Before we were aware of it, our
house was surrounded by water. I managed, with my
babe, to reach a little elevated spot, where the thick
foliage of a few wide-spreading trees afforded some
protection, while my husband and sons strove to save
what they could of our property. At last a fearful
surge swept away my husband, and he never rose
again. Ladies, no one ever loved a husband more;
but THAT was not trouble.
'Presently my sons saw their danger, and the
struggle for life became the only consideration. They
were as brave, loving boys as ever blessed a mother's


heart; and I watched their efforts to escape with such
agony as only mothers can feel. They were so far off
that I could not speak to them; but I could see them
closing nearer and nearer to each other, as their little
island grew smaller and smaller.
The swollen river raged fearfully around the huge
trees. Dead branches, upturned trunks, wrecks of
houses, drowning cattle, and masses of rubbish, all
went floating past us. My boys waved their hands to
me, and then pointed upwards. I knew it was their
farewell signal; and you, mothers, can imagine my
'anguish. I saw them perish ;-ALL perish. Yet that
was not trouble.
'I hugged my baby close to my heart; and when
the water rose to my feet, I climbed into the low
branches of the tree, and so kept retiring before it, till
the hand of God stayed the waters that they should rise
no further. I was saved. All my worldly possessions
were swept away; all my earthly hopes blighted.
Yet THAT was not trouble.
'My baby, was all I had left on earth. I laboured
day and night to support him and myself, and sought
to train him in the right way; but, as he grew older,
evil companions won him away from me. He ceased
to care for his mother's counsels; he would sneer at
her kind entreaties and agonizing prayers. HE BECAME
FOND OF DRINKING. He left my humble roof, that he


might be unrestrained in his evil ways. And at last,
one night, when heated by wine, he took the life of a
fellow-creature. He ended his days upon the gallows!
God had filled my cup of sorrow before; now it ran
over. THAT was trouble, my friends, such as I hope
the Lord in mercy may spare you from ever know-
ing '
Boys, girls, can you bear to think that you might
bring such sorrow on your dear father or mother ? If
you would not, be on your guard against the giant
Intemperance. Let wine and liquors alone. Never
touch them. That was a mother's sorrow.

Let us look at the sorrow brought on a family by
the same dreadful evil.
It is an old man's story.'
Many years ago, a temperance meeting was held in
a certain village. A little boy, who lived in the village,
was very anxious to go, and persuaded his father to
take him. The boy never forgot that meeting, and he
wrote the account of it years afterwards. One of the
speakers at the meeting was an old man. His hair
was white, and his brow furrowed with age and sorrow.
When he arose to speak, he said-
'My friends, I am an old man, standing alone at
the end of life's journey. Tears are in my eyes, and
deep sorrow is in my heart. I am without friends, or


home, or kindred on earth. It was not always so.
Once I had a mother. With her heart crushed with
sorrow, she went down to her grave. I once had a
wife; a fair, angel-hearted creature as ever smiled in
an earthly home. Her blue eye grew dim, as the
floods of sorrow washed away its brightness; and her
tender heart I wrung till every fibre was broken. I
once had a noble boy; but he was driven from the
ruins of his home, and my old heart yearns to know if
he yet lives. I once had a babe, a sweet, lovely babe;
but these hands destroyed it, and now it lives with
Him who loveth the little ones. Do not spurn me,
my friends,' continued the old man. There is light
in my evening sky. The spirit of my mother rejoices
over the return of her prodigal son. The injured wife
smiles upon him who turns back again to virtue and
honour. The child-angel visits me at nightfall, and I
seem to feel his tiny hands upon my feverish cheek.
My brave boy, if he yet lives, would forgive the sorrow-
ing old man for treatment that drove him out into the
world, and the blow that maimed him for life. God
forgive me for the ruin I have brought upon all that
were about me.
'I was a drunkard. From wealth and respect-
ability, I plunged into poverty and shame. I dragged
my family down with me. For years I saw the cheek
of my wife grow pale, and her step grow weary. I


left her alone to struggle for the children, while I was
drinking and rioting at the tavern. She never com-
plained, though she and the children often went hungry
to bed.
One New-Year's night I returned late to the hut
where charity had given us shelter. My wife was
still up, and shivering over the coals. I demanded
food. She told me there was none, and then burst
into tears. I fiercely ordered her to get some, She
turned her eyes sadly upon me, the tears falling fast
over her pale cheek. At this moment the child in its
cradle awoke, and uttered a cry of hunger, startling
the despairing mother, and making new sorrow in her
breaking heart.
'" We have no food, James; we have had none for
several days. I have nothing for the babe. 0 I my
once kind husband, must we starve ? "
'That sad, pleading face, and those streaming eyes,
and the feeble wail of the child, maddened me; and I
-yes, I struck her a fierce blow in the face, and she
fell forward upon the hearth. It seemed as if the
furies of hell were raging in my bosom; and the feel-
ing of the wrong I had committed added fuel to the
flames. I had never struck my wife before, but now
some terrible impulse drove me on, and I stooped down,
as well as I could in my drunken state, and clenched
both my hands in her hair.


'" For mercy's sake, James !' exclaimed my wife,
as she looked up into my fiendish countenance; You
will not kill us; you will not harm Willie ?' and she
sprung to the cradle and grasped him in her arms. I
caught her again by the hair and dragged her to the
door, and as I lifted the latch, the wind burst in with
a cloud of snow. With a fiendish yell, I still dragged
her on, and hurled her out amid the darkness and
storm. Then, with a wild laugh, I closed the door and
fastened it. Her pleading moans and the sharp cry of
her babe, mingled with the wail of the blast. But my
horrible work was not yet complete.
'I turned to the bed where my eldest son was
lying, snatched him from his slumbers, and, against
his half-awakened struggles, opened the door and
thrust him out. In the agony of fear he uttered that
sacred name I was no longer worthy to bear. He
called me-PATHER and locked his fingers in my side-
pocket. I could not wrench that grasp away; but,
with the cruelty of a fiend, I shut the door upon his
arm, and, seizing my knife, severed it at the wrist.
'It was morning when I awoke, and the storm had
ceased. I looked round to the accustomed place for
my wife. As I missed her, a dim, dark scene, as of
some horrible nightmare, came over me. I thought it
must be a fearful dream, but involuntarily opened the
outside door with a shuddering dread. As the door


opened, the snow burst in, and something fell in across
the threshold with a dull, heavy sound. My blood
shot like melted lava through my veins, and I covered
my eyes to shut out the sight. It was-O God how
horrible !-it was my own loving wife and her babe.
frozen to death! With true mother's love, she had
bowed herself over the child to shield it, and wrapped
all her clothing around it, leaving her own person
exposed to the storm. She had placed her hair over
the face of the child, and the sleet had frozen it to the
pale cheek. The frost was white on the lids of its
half-opened eyes, and upon its tiny fingers. I never
knew what became of my brave boy.'
Here the old man bowed his head and wept; and
all in the house wept with him. Then, in the low
tones of heart-broken sorrow, he concluded:-
'I was arrested, and for long months I was a raving
maniac. When I recovered, I was sentenced to the
penitentiary for ten years; but this was nothing to the
tortures I have endured in my own bosom. And now
I desire to spend the little remnant of my life in
striving to warn others not to enter a path which has
been so dark and fearful to me.'
When the old man had finished, the temperance
pledge was produced, and he asked the people to come
forward and sign it. The father of the boy referred to
leaped from his seat and pressed forward to sign the


pledge. As he took the pen in hand, he hesitated a
Sign it, young man, sign it,' said the venerable
speaker. Angels would sign it. I would write my
name in blood ten thousand times, if it would undo
the ruin I have wrought, and bring back my loved
and lost ones.'
The young man wrote-' Mortimer Hudson.' The
old man looked. He wiped his eyes, and looked again,
His face flushed with fiery red, and then a death-like
paleness came over it.
'It is-no, it cannot be; yet how strange!' he
muttered. Pardon me, Sir, but that was the name of
my brave boy.'
The young man trembled, and held up his left arm,
from which the hand had been severed.
They looked for a moment in each other's eyes;
and the old man exclaimed-
'My own injured boy!'
The young man cried out-
'My poor, dear father !'
Then they fell upon each other's neck and wept,
till it seemed as if their souls would mingle into one.

Thus we see the misery and wretchedness this
fearful giant Intemperance brings upon the drunkard,
and upon all his family. If you love those at home,


make up your minds that You will never cause them
such sorrow and shame. Keep everything that in-
toxicates from your lips, and you will keep the giant
from your home. Do so, BECAUSE HE IS AN ENEMY TO
Those of you who have read ancient history, re-
member Hannibal, the great Carthaginian general.
The Romans were the enemies of the Carthaginians.
Hannibal's father had been general for many years,
and had fought many battles against the Romans. He
wanted his son to feel that they were his enemies, and
that he must begin early to'fight them. So one day,
when Hannibal was about nine years old, his father
gathered all the soldiers together. Then he went into
his tent, and led out little Hannibal, and took him to
the large altar where they used to offer sacrifices to
their gods. Upon this altar he made him place his
hand, and, in the presence of the whole army, swear
that as long as he lived h6 would be an enemy to the
Romans, and that he would fight against them with all
his power.
Hannibal never forgot that promise. He became
the greatest enemy the Romans ever had.
Now, my dear children, you have many great
enemies. All these giants that we have been talking
about are your enemies. They want to capture you,
and they will try hard to do it. They are all strong



and fierce. But the last one, the giant Intemperance,
is the greatest enemy to you of them all. And he
is the strongest and most cruel of all. The sooner
you feel this, the sooner you will be on your guard
against him, and the more you will learn to hate him.
And so I want you to do what Hannibal did. I want
you to determine, Now, while you are young, that, as
long as you live, you will be an enemy of this giant,
and fight against him with all your power. I want
you to vow LIFE-LONG WAR against him Never make
peace with him Never give him any quarter.
I do not ask you to sign a pledge, but I do ask you
all to resolve solemnly, that, by the help of God, you
will never allow yourselves to drink wine, or liquor of
any kind, unless you are sick, and it is given by the
physician as a medicine, 'ToucH NOT-TASTE NOT-
HANDLE NOT.' This is the only safe course.
Those who do not follow this rule, often fall into
the power of the giant Intemperance very suddenly,
and when they least expect it; and, though they may
escape again, do things while they are his prisoners,
that lead them into great trouble.
A'man named John Cafree was shot in a fireman's
quarrel in the United States some time ago. The man
who shot him was not an habitual drunkard. He was
generally a sober, industrious man. But on that
occasion he was tempted to drink too much, and


now the dreadful guilt of murder was resting upon
Some years since there was a crowd gathered
round a gallows, to see a young man hung. The
sheriff took out his watch, and said-' If you have
anything to say, spe.k now, for you have only five
minutes to live.' The young man burst into tears and
said--'Alas and must I die? I had only one little
brother. He had beautiful blue eyes, and flaxen hair,
and I loved him. But one day I got drunk, for the
first and only time in my life. On coming home I
found my brother gathering strawberries in the garden.
Without any sufficient cause I became angry with
him, and struck him a blow with an iron rake. That
blow killed him. I knew nothing about what was
done till the next morning. On awaking from sleep I
found myself tied, and guarded; and was told that
when my little brother was discovered he was dead,
and his hair was clotted with blood and brains.
Drinking liquor had done it. THAT has ruined me.
I never was drunk but once, and now I am to hang
for it. I have only one word more to say, and then I
am going to stand before my Judge. I wish to say
to young people-Never, never, never touch anything
that can intoxicate.' As he spoke these words he
sprung from the scaffold, and was launched into


My dear boys, remember this warning-' Never
touch anything that can intoxicate.' And, my dear
girls, do you remember it too. Don't think that,
because you are females, you are in no danger. You
ARE in danger.
In New York they are building a house for habitual
drunkards, where they can be treated as sick or insane
people are. Since this building has been started,
nearly three thousand confirmed drunkards have
applied for admission. Among these are between
SPECTABLE FAMILIES. ALL persons who drink wine or
liquor AT ALL are in danger of becoming drunkards
themselves, or of making others drunkards by their
example. Drink cold water, and you are in no danger.
The giant Intemperance will never be able to make
you his prisoner if you keep to cold water.

Now, how many giants have we spoken of ? Five.
What was the first ? The GIANT HEATHENISM.
How are we to fight him? BY THROWING THE STONES
What was the second? The GIANT SELFISHNESS.
How are we to fight him? BY SELF-DENIAL.
What. was the third? The GIANT COVETOUSNESS.
How are we to fight him ? BY LEARNING TO GIVE.
What was the fourth? The GIANT ILL-TEMPER.


How are we to fight him ? BY LEARNING TO BE LIKE
What was the fifth ? The GIANT INTEMPERANCE.
And how are we to fight him? BY DIINKING COLD
WATER. We had four good reasons why we should
fight this giant. What are they? We ought to fight
him: 1. Because cold water is the drink that God has
made for us; 2. Because he is an enemy to health and
strength; 3. Because he is an enemy to safety and
honour; 4. Because he is an enemy to comfort and
In conclusion, my dear children, I want you all to
become brave giant-fighters. Fighting, in general, is
poor business. For men and women, or boys and
girls, to be fighting among themselves is a shameful
thing. But to be fighting these giants is very different.
This is proper for girls as well as boys; for ladies as
well as gentlemen. It is a right thing, a brave thing,
an honourable thing. But do not try to fight them in
your own strength, or else you are sure to be beaten.
David prayed to God to help him when he became a
giant-fighter. It was this which made him successful.
And you must do the same. Pray for Jesus to help
you. Then go at the giants with all your might, and
He will 'teach your hands to war and your fingers to
fight;' and will bring you off, at last, conquerors, and
'more than conquerors.'



HAST thou not need of strength to fit thee
All day to strive in Christian fight ?
Hast thou not need of love to shield thee
From danger all the gloomy night?

Thy father's hand may fail to help thee,
Nor even thy mother soothe thy care;
There is an Arm that never wearies,
An Ear that heareth every prayer.

The poor man in his straw-roofed cottage,
The rich man in his lordly hall,
The old man's voice, and the child's first whisper
He listens, and He answers all.

Yea, more than our poor hearts may venture
To dream or ask, His love shall give,
For the dear sake of Him most precious,
In whom this better life we live;

This life wherein, from wrath delivered,
And in Christ's name to God brought near,
We pour to our forgiving Father
The prayers His mercy loves to hear.

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