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Give me Drink.

--Mr. McLeod, an English writer, puts the following language into the mouth of those who visit the rumseller's den: ‘"There's my money — give me drink !--There's my clothing and food — give me drink ! There's the clothing, food and fire of my wife and children — give me drink ! There's the education of the family and the peace of the house — give me drink ! There is the money I have robbed from the schoolmaster, and innumerable articles I have robbed from the storekeeper — give me drink ! Pour me out drink, for more will I pay for it. There's my health of body and peace of mind — there's my character as a man and my profession as a Christian--I will give up all — give me drink ! More yet have I to give. There is my heavenly inheritance, and the everlasting friendship of the redeemed — there is all hope of salvation. I give up my Saviour ! I give up my God ! I resign all ! All that is good, great and glorious in the universe, I resign forever, that I may be drunk !"’

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