The Monitor. [volume] (Woodstown, N.J.) 1884-1892, 1890-07-11
w. CT. u. DEPARTMENT..

w. CT. U. DEPARTMENT.
the countless miseries that follow in its
train.
Were l an artist, l would borrow a pencil
from Raphael and dip it into the fountain OF
human sorrow and l would paint a picture
of this evil of intemperance. would put
into that picture every conceivable thing
that was terrible and revolving. l would
paint health in ruins, hope destroyed, al
~fections crushed, and prayers silenced. l
would paint the chosen seats of paternal
care. of flial piety, of brotherly love, and
| of maternal devotion, all vacant and gone.
would paint all the crimes of every statute
and of every hue, from foul murder stand
ing aghast over the open grave which it
has no means to cover, to the meanest de-
ception still confident of success. l would
paint a dark, dreary, and cherries valley
and call it the'Valley of the shadow of
death, "andpeopleit W 18th everything slaves.
| would paint a landscape of trees whose
fruit should be poisoned, and whose shadow
shall be pain. l would paint a mountain
whose lofty summit should be covered with
the storms ola perpetual desolation, in
| whose chilling atmosphere no mortal could
dwell, around whose bleak brow black
| clouds of vengeance should hold high carni-
val while fierce ~lightnings should flash and
CLEAN with a livid, staStling light, reveal
ing deep and fathomless chasms where
awful darkness holds eternal sway. l would
paint a deep, dark river, rushing foaming
angrily on, over dragged rocks, hurrying
everything on its heaying bosom toward an
awful Niagara of death. Its waters should
be the tears of weeping eyes, and the blood
from bleeding human hearts. In itsturbid
| current no living thing should dwell, and
on its storm-tossed waves nothing but
human wrecks should be seen.
would paint a deep and gloomy cavern,
where sunlight never strays; where foul
| odors fill the air, and where the dying
| means of murdered men re-echo through its
sepulchral vaults. | would fresco it with
s'imy serpents n crawling spiders, and on
the walls the faces of grinning devils should
CLEAN out with maddening fury AID fiend-
ish hate.
| would put in the most distant back
ground Of my picture, the vanishing visions
of a more blessed past, and into the fore
ground the awful certainty of an accursed
future. | would paint prison doors that
open inwardly only, and then | would
people the scene W it'll men whose shattered
forms were tenanted by tormented souls;
with sad faced children, upon whose lips no
smile could ever play; with women, in
whose checks burrows had been burned by
tears wiung by anguish from bleeding
hearts, pressing to their white bosoms theil
starving babes.
In my picture not one happy home should
be found. not one bright IND cheerful face
shond be seen; but bloated and beastly
men, pale and sad faced women, and half
clad, starving children should glcam from
its canvas.
The temple of worship should be CLOSED
or converted into brothels of infamy, where
senseless ribaldry and bacchanalian shouts
should constantly resound.
| would varnish my picture with thu
'poison of dragons and with the crue
venom of asps;' and when it was compile
ted, | would frame it with the skins Of
scorpions and Shiny monsters, and hang ii
up in 4 lurid light on a cord woven from
the teeth of poison spiders, ahd say to the
people: "There is a picture of intemper-
ance, which, by POUR votes, you are en-
couraging the rum sellers to paint and
hang up Oh the W alls of your now peace.
full, happy ."-Record, GainsciUe,
Ga.