Year: 1865

Coming through New York on several
occasions at midnight, from railway sta
tions, have always found the drinking
saloons and Ounce houses in full blaze,
aud troops Of young men about their
doors at that dark, dangerous hour. This
is the DEVILS harvest hour. While good
people are asleep, the devil is awake and
at work. How many of these thousands
of young men have praying parents p
How many of them will ever be saved
from the doom of the drunkard, or the
gambler; or the libertiue? What can
be done to save them?


These are practical questions for city
pastors and city christians. And they
are full of warning. too, to the hundreds
Of youth who are rushing from .conrtru
homes into the maelstrom OF city lite.
Do young men from christian homes al
ways realize their tremendous peril. and
of temptation DO they really know the
terrible damnation that turks beneath the
first glass, the first game at faro, the 6rst
evening in brothel? When they step
on Satan's trap doors do they dream Of
the pit that yawns beneath them? An
incident that now occurs to me will illus
trate their own peril and their own duty
to b. ware of first steps in sin.


Several years ago an eminent city
clergyman observed among his auditors
young man whose appearance excited
in him sn UNUSUAL interest. He took
pains to learn the youthful stranger 8
history. He found that he was a child
of pious parents, and had been trained
to respect the ordinances of religion.
by and by the young man was missed
from his accustomed place in the sanctu
ary. The eye of the pastor sought him
in vain. He had met with company Of
lively and engaging skeptics, who had
persuaded him to abandon the house of
God for the more "manly' entertainment
Of their iufdel club Scoffing and sens
uality went hand 10 hand in that club
room. When his conscience stung him,
the opiate Of the bottle soon drowned
the troublesome monitor. He became
an apt scholar in the ways of sin No
young man commonly descends so rapid
ly into the abyss of dissipation as he who
has plunged in from the high stand poin,
Of quiet, moral country life This
young man went fast through the severa
stages of scofiing. drinking, brotheIing
drunkenness and his brief career of sir
soon did its work Of ruin on his slight
delicate frame. He had not long te
learn the terrible truth Of those lines
which half drunken genius once wrote
about his own drinking cup:


"Unon this foam Destruction rides,


And in this tide does Ruin swim;


| Perdilion at the bottom hides,


And Death is dancing round the brim."


At length the pastor was ono day
startled by summons to visit the un-
happy young mans dyiug-bed. H.
found him sinking fast, and sinking
without hope. AS the man of God ap
preached the bedside, the youth hid hi.
face in the clothes, and refused to spesi
to him. Finding it impossible to draw
a word from the wrctched victim of re
morse, who was thus entering eteruit,
10 sullen despair, the pastor offered I
fervent prayer, and turned away. H,
reached the door. His hand was .upor
the latch, when the young man suddenly
rose in the bed, and beckoncd him to re
turn He went back and leaned hi
head over the bed The young maj
threw his arms about him, and drawin,
his head close to his lips, whispered. il
convulsive accents, "Tm damned !" an,
then sunk back silently on the pillow
No further efforts or entreaties coult
rouse him. Having prouounced bis owl