Western sentinel. [volume] (Winston [i.e. Winston-Salem], N.C.) 1856-1886, 1883-01-04

along the track of existence, not
stopping so much as to read the
sign boards at the crossroads, tes
hell or the poor house, what matters
it to them? How can it matter
since they are but crazy machines,
propelled from their centre of grav-
ity' by alcohol. It has been said
that man is never at his best until
he has had drink or so. That is
the devils philosophy. Else God
would have made whiskey bottle
first, man next; and then, being
merciful, he would not have created
woman at all. Whatsoever man
can do at all, he can do much better
sober. rhe 70 erstands Iii
and refuses the was aisd services Of
drunkards at any price. Economy
is the fruitful parent of prosperity,
and the rule of all successful men.
Time is the most valuable of all
earthly possessions. How prodigal
with that God derived inheritance
the drunkard is. Observe the owl
like look of mystery and wisdom, as
he approaches to communicate some
profound philosophy. In fact it is
nothing. If it was as big as the
Alps, he could not tell it. But see!
THE HAPPY HOME OF A SOBER
MAN.
The FIRE blazes cherily in its ap-
pointed place. By his side, sits his
happy wife, upon whose face, CLEANS
the Joy of intelligent pride; while
about his knees, prattle his merry
hearted little ones. His hand is as
steady as the purposes of an honest
heart. Clear and friendly glances
welcome the balmy breath, which
rosebud lips impart to checks, to
which the noisome poison is stran-
ger. A we'll cooked supper is en-
ioyed by an appetite, which God
and nature give. Pleasantly around
that fireside, glide the hours into
eternity. The shadows of darkness
fall upon household, full of the
Joy that is nigh unto the "Peace of
God, that passeth all understanding" "
At length, the untroubled rest of
, sleep reposes upon bosom, where
dwell peace and content. Every
hour to such a man is an Era of
Hope. Over the way is
THE DRUNKARDs HOME.
= f.fhe front gatefis nearly 1elawn
The windows are stuffed full Of old
hats and rags, that poorly supply,
the place of panes of glass. Supper
does not please. Either, there is not
enough to satisfy the craving Of an
appetite, brutalized by alcohol, OF
: the cooking of the broken-hearted
wife does not please the fancy Of bis
drunken Lordship. From the feat
! ures of his frightened children, the
dimples of health and the smiles o.
, plenty have been driven by the
; pinched lines of hunger. Supper
less and terrified, they creep to theil
wretched pallets, there to find il
, childhoods happy dreams, the joy
which Gods pity bestows and man''
brutality cannot deny. The mort
gage on the house is lighter than tn,
burden upon the sortl of the woman
: Finally, the loud and troubled
breathing of the drunkard, tell he
that at last he is unconscious. ST
/. lently she sits by the cradle anl
s wishes the swaddling clothes wer
: tiny angels wings. Her tear-strain
ed memory recalls the happy day
. of happier childhood. Great tear
. roll into the hollows of her cheeks
furrowed by care. Softly she mur
tnurs the lullaby of the mother, VIII
. has slept for years under the Ion.
! grass. Faint and weak, she close
her eyes to darkness, less terribl
!, than that which always encompasse
! her. Every hour in the life of sue
a man, is an Era of Despair, full 9
all that pertains to death, except it
: peace.
Al From the contemplation of sue
! picture, we turn with gratitude
] behold
: THE NEVER FAILING BEAUTIES @
# CHARITY. =
J I speak not of mere alms-givin
: but, of that virtue, which in myria
= forms of love and sympathy, weave
its soft, rich threads into the dali
warp of human toll and passion, an
: produces the splendid pattern of eli,
10 ilization. Paul in his Epistle to Il
" Church of God, at Corinth says
+. Though I speak with the tongu
1t of men and of angels and have n.
IS charity, / am become as sount
i ing brass or twinkling cymba
,r And though ] have the gift
l. prophecy and understand all myst
4 ries and all knowledge, and thoue
y I have all faith, so that I could r
he move moantains and have not cha
at ity, I am nothing. And though
IN bestow all my goods to feed Il
d. poor, and though / give my body
50 be burned and have not charity,
,p profteth ne nothing. Charity 81
to fereth long and is kind Chari
10 envieth not; Charity vaunteth n
II ifaolf Il not nm fad r.r, doth net !,