HISTORY OF J. B. GOUGH.

YOUNG men of England! your attention is now invited to the consideration of a subject in which you are all most deeply interested. We call upon those of you who still walk in the path of propriety to look at J. B. Gough, and take warning! To those of you, who, like him have been the authors of your own ruin, we present the same object for your encouragement. This auto-biography has just been issued, and he himself will have arrived in England by the time this meets your eye.

He was born on August 22, 1817, at Sandgate, a little village on the Kentish coast, since of some note as a wateringplace. His father had served in the Peninsular wars, and bore the marks of his valour; he retired in 1823, on a pension of £20 per annum. His military habits rendered him far from an engaging companion to so young a child; but the gentleness mingled with firmness in his mother, fully won the affections of

her son. She occupied the post of village schoolmistress; and when John was sufficiently advanced under her care, he was sent to a Mr. Davis, of Folkestone, to pursue his studies. His education, however, was extremely limited, his great accomplishment being that of good reading, which was noticed and rewarded by the late venerable William Wilberforce. When about twelve years of age, a family about emigrating to America, agreed, for a consideration of £10, to take him with them, teach him a trade, and provide for him till he was twentyone years of age. After a voyage of about two months they arrived at New York, and thence removed to a farm in Oneida county. While there, a revival occurred in the Methodist Episcopal Church, and Gough, with others, was received into the society. The family to whose care he had been committed seem sadly to have failed of their compact. During a period of two years he went to no place of instruction, nor to learn any business; and then, says he, "tired of so unprofitable a life, I sold a knife for the purpose of paying a letter to my father, in which I asked his permission to go to New York, and learn a trade." The reply was favourable, and he immediately started for New York, and there obtained a situation as errand-boy to the Metho

dist book-store, where he would also have an opportunity of learning the bookbinding. His affairs soon began to look prosperously, and he sent for his father, mother, and sister. The latter came, but his father was unable to leave England, on account of his pension. "Oh! how happy did I feel," says he, "that evening when my parent first made tea in our own home. Our three cups and saucers made quite a grand show, and in imagination we were rich in viands, although our meal was frugal enough.' But this happiness was not destined to last long. In the summer of 1834, his mother was suddenly removed by a stroke of apoplexy; and here began his ruin. His key-stone was gone-the arch soon fol lowed. His sister separated from him to board near where she worked, and he was left alone. Having a fine voice and a good stock of songs, his company was courted by dissipated young men, with whom he laughed, sang, and drank, till both character and money were gone. He then joined a company of strollingplayers, as an actor in low comedy; but they quitted the town without paying, and so left him as poor as ever. He then returned to his trade, but left it from the love of drink; then took to the sea, of which the first voyage was enough; and he once more returned to the bookbinding at Newburyport. Here he married, and might have lived comfortably enough but for his invincible love of drink, which returned upon him with such power that in a few weeks he sunk as low as ever. And here a generous Englishman perceiving that he had talents, and those of no common order, assisted him to set up in business for himself; and he was again on the high road to prosperity, but his old enemy conquered; he shall speak for himself:

"Five months only did I remain in business, and during that short period I sunk gradually deeper and deeper in the scale of degradation. I was now the slave of a habit which had become completely my master, and which fastened its remorseless fangs in my very vitals. Thought was a torturing thing. When I looked back, memory drew fearful pictures in lines of lurid flame, and whenever I dared to anticipate the future, hope refused to illumine my onward path. I dwelt in one awful present. Nothing to solace me-nothing to beckon me onwards to a better state. I knew full well that I was proceeding on a downward course, and crossing the sea of time, as it were on a bridge as perilous as that

over which the followers of Mahomet are said to enter Paradise. A terrible feeling was ever present, that some evil was impending, which would soon fall on my devoted head, and I would shudder as if the sword of Damocles, suspended by its single hair, was about to fall and utterly destroy me.

"Warnings were not wanting; but they had no voice of terror for me. I was intimately acquainted with a young man in the town, and well remember his coming to my shop one morning, and asking the loan of ninepence with which to buy rum. I let him have the money, and the spirit was soon consumed. He begged me to lend him a second ninepence, but I refused; yet, during my temporary absence, he drank some spirits of wine, which was in a bottle in the shop, and used by me in my business; he went away, and the next I heard of him was, that he had died shortly afterwards."

His business of course declined, and he was much reduced. He "grew poorer and poorer, and his days dragged wearily

on."

Life itself was a burden. His sister, before mentioned, had married and gone to reside in Rhode Island. Being severely afflicted she wrote to ask her brother's wife to go and nurse her, which she agreed to do. He accompanied his wife to the railroad, and then instead of going to work returned home to enjoy a gallon of West India rum which he had

in store:

"I could not sit alone, without rum, and I drank glass after glass, until I became so stupified that I was compelled to lie down on the bed, where I soon fell asleep. When I awoke it was late in the afternoon; and then, as I persuaded myself, too late to make a bad day's work good. I invited a neighbour, who, like myself, was a man of intemperate habits, to spend the evening with me. He came; and we sat down to our rum and drank freely till late at night, when he staggered home; and so intoxicated was I, that, in moving to bed, I fell over the table, broke a lamp, and lay on the floor for some time, unable to rise. At last I managed to get to bed; but oh! I did not sleep -for the drunkard never knows the blessings of undisturbed repose. I awoke in the night with a raging thirst. My mouth was parched, and my throat was burning, and I anxiously groped about the room trying to find more rum, in which sought to quench my dreadful thirst; no sooner was one draught taken than the horrible dry feeling returned,-and so I went on swallowing repeated glassfuls of spirit, until I had drained the very last drop that the jar contained. My appetite grew by what it fed on; and having a little money by me, I with difficulty got up, made myself look as tidy as possible, and then went out to buy more rum, with which I returned to the house. The fact will perhaps seem incredible, but so it was, that I drank spirits continually without tasting a morsel of food for the next three days. This could not last long; a constitution of iron strength could not endure such treatment; and mine was partially worn down by previous dissipation. I began to experience a feeling hitherto

unknown to me. After the three days' drinking to which I have just referred, I felt one night as I lay in my bed an awful sense of something dreadful coming upon me. It was as if I had been partially stunned, and now, in an interval of consciousness, was about to have the fearful blow which had prostrated me, repeated. There was a craving for sleep-blessed sleep! But my eyelids were as if they could not close. Every object around me I beheld with startling distinctness, and my hearing became unnaturally acute; then to the singing and roaring in my ears would suddenly succeed a silence so awful, that only the stillness of the grave might be compared with it. At other times strange voices would whisper unintelligible words, and the slightest noise would make me start like a guilty thing. But the horrid, burning thirst was insupportable, and to quench it, and induce sleep, I clutched again and again the rum-bottle, hugged my enemy, and poured the infernal fluid down my parched throat. But it was of no use-none! I could not sleep. Then I bethought me of tobacco, and staggering from my bed to a shelf near, with great difficulty I managed to procure a pipe and some matches. I could not stand to light the latter, so I lay again on the bed, and scraped one against the wall. I began to smoke, and the narcotic leaf produced stupefaction. I dozed a little, but feeling a warmth on my face, I discovered my pillow to be on fire. I had dropped the lighted match on the bed. By a desperate effort I threw the pillow from the bed, and too exhausted to feel annoyed by the burning feathers, I sank again into a state of somnolency. How long I lay I do not exactly know, but I was roused from my lethargy by the neighbours, who, alarmed by the smell of fire, came to my room to ascertain the cause. When they took me from my bed, the underpart of the straw with which it was stuffed was smouldering, and in a quarter of an hour more, must have burst into a flame. The fright produced by this accident, and very narrow escape, in some degree sobered me; but what I feared more than anything else was the exposure. Now all would be known, and I feared my name would become more than ever a by-word and a reproach.

"Will it be believed that I again sought refuge in rum? Scarcely had I recovered from the fright than I sent out, procured a pint of rum, and drank it all in less than half an hour? Yet so it was. And now, cramps attacked me in my limbs which racked me with agony, and my temples throbbed as if they would burst. So ill was I, that I became seriously alarmed, and begged the people of the house to send for a physician. They did so; but I immediately repented having summoned him, and endeavoured, but ineffectually, to get out of his way when he arrived. He saw at a glance what was the matter with me, ordered the persons about me to watch me carefully, and on no account to let me have any spirituous liquors. Everything stimulating was rigorously denied me, and then came on the drunkard's remorseless torturer-delirium tremens, in all its terrors, attacked me. For three days I endured more agony than pen could describe, even were it guided by the hand of Dante. Who can tell the horrors of that horrible malady, aggravated as it is by the ever-abiding consciousness that it is self-sought. Hideous faces appeared on

the walls, and on the ceiling and on the floors; foul things crept along the bed-clothes, and glaring eyes peered into mine. I was at one time surrounded by millions of monstrous spiders, who crawled slowly over every limb, while the beaded drops of perspiration would start to my brow, and my limbs would shiver until the bed rattled again. Strange lights would dance before my eyes, and then suddenly the very blackness of darkness would appal me by its dense gloom. All at once, while gazing at a frightful creation of my distempered mind, I seemed struck with sudden blindness. I knew a candle was burning in the room, but I could not see it. All was so pitchy dark. I lost the sense of feeling too, for I endeavoured to grasp my arm in one hand, but consciousness was gone. I put my hand to my side, my head, but felt nothing; and still I knew that my limbs and frame were there. And then the scene would change. I was falling-falling swiftly as an arrow far down into some terrible abyss, and so like reality was it, that as I fell I could see the rocky sides of the horrible shaft, where mocking, jibing, fiend-like forms were perched; and I could feel the air rushing past me, making my hair stream out by the force of the unwholesome blast. Then the paroxysm sometimes ceased for a few moments, and I sank back on my pallet drenched in perspiration, utterly exhausted, and feeling a dreadful certainty of the renewal of my torments. By the mercy of God I survived this awful seizure; and when I arose, I was a weak broken-down man."

He then sent for his wife, and obtained employment; but his employers having discovered his habits threatened to discharge, but on promise of amendment retained him; and he even went so far as to board at a Temperance House, to avoid temptation. At this juncture his wife, who had been declining, was ordered He rum, and he shared the poison. drank freely, and the usual effects followed. Ten days of suspense ensued, at the end of which his wife and child both died. He then says,

"During the miserable hours of darkness I would steal from my lonely bed to the place where my dead wife and child lay, and in agony of soul pass my shaking hand over their cold faces, and then return to bed after a draught of rum, which I had obtained, and hidden under the pillow of my wretched couch. At such times, all the events of the past would return with horrible distinctness to my recollection; and many a time did I wish to die, for hope had well nigh deserted me, both with respect to this world and the next. I had apostatised from the pure principle I had once embraced, and

was now,

'A wandering, wretched, worn and weary thing, Ashamed to ask, and yet I needed help.' Through the love of drink he left his situation, and as the only remaining means of getting rum, he repaired to the lowest grog-shops, and there sang and told stories to a set of men who supplied

him with the drink in return. But still he seems to have had glimmerings of conviction. He says:

"Through the mists of memory my mother's face would often appear, just as it was when I stood by her knee and listened to the lessons of wisdom and goodness from her loving lips. I would see her mild reproving face, and seem to hear her warning voice; and, surrounded by my riotous companions, at certain seasons reason would struggle for the throne whence she had been driven, and I, while enjoying the loud plaudits of sots,

'Saw a hand they could not see,
Which beckon'd me away.'

The Sabbath was now disregarded, and usually spent in the country, with no companion but the RUM-BOTTLE!

And now the winter drew on; and how was he to brave the frosts of America, houseless, penniless, outcast?

"Utterly wretched and abandoned, I have stood by the railway-track with a vague wish to lie across it, drink myself into oblivion, and let the cars go over me. Once I stood by the rails with a bottle of laudanum clattering against my lips, and had nearly been a suicide; but the mercy of God interposed, and I escaped the sin of self-murder. All night long have I lain on the damp grass which covered my wife's grave, steeped to the very lips in poverty, degradation, and misery! Frequently was I tempted to take my life, yet I clung instinctively to existence. Sleep was often a stranger to my eyelids, and many a night would I spend in the open air; sometimes in a miserable state of inebriation, and at other times in a half-sober condition. All this time I often resolved that I would drink no more-that I would break the chain that bound me; but still I continued in the same course, breaking every promise I made to myself and others, and continuing an object of scorn and contempt. I felt that few, if any, pitied me; and that any should love me was entirely out of the question. Yet was I yearning intensely for sympathy: for, as I have before stated, my affections were naturally strong and deep; and often as I lay in my solitary chamber, feeling how low I had sunk, and that no eye ever dropped a tear of pity over my state, or would grow dim if I were laid in the grave, I have ardently wished that I might never see the morning light. My punishment was greater than I could bear. I had made a whip of scorpions, which perpetually lashed me. My name was a by-word,-no man seemed to care for my soul. I was 'joined,' like Ephraim of old, unto idols,' and it seemed as if the Lord had said respecting me, 'Let him alone.'

"Before I conclude this portion of my history, let me urge on every young man whose eye may glance over these pages, to learn from my miserable state a lesson of wisdom. Let him beware of all that intoxicates! Poets may sing of the Circean cup-praise, in glowing terms, the garlands that wreathe it-wit may lend its brilliant aid to celebrate it, and even learning may invest it with a charm; but when the poet's song shall have died, and the garlands all have withered -when wit shall have ceased to sparkle, and the lore of ages be an unremembered thing, the

baneful effects of the intoxicating draught will be felt. At the last it biteth like a serpent and stingeth like an adder.'

*

"The month of October had nearly drawn to a close, and on its last Sunday evening I wandered out into the streets, pondering as well as I was able to do, for I was somewhat intoxicated, on my lone and friendless condition, My frame was much weakened by habitual indulgence in intoxicating liquor, and little fitted to bear the cold of winter, which had already begun to come in.

"Some one tapped me on the shoulder-an unusual thing that to happen to me; for no one now cared to come in contact with the wretched shabby-looking drunkard. I was a disgrace—a "living, walking disgrace.' I could scarcely believe my own senses when I turned and met a kind look; the thing was so unusual and so entirely unexpected, that I questioned the reality of it but so it was. It was the first touch of kindness which I had known for months; and simple and trifling as the circumstance may appear to many, it went right to my heart, and like the wing of an angel, troubled the stagnant pool of affection, and made them once more reflect a little of the light of human love.

"The person who touched my shoulder was an entire stranger. I looked at him, wondering what his business was with me. Regarding me very earnestly, and apparently with much interest, he exclaimed, Mr. Gough, I believe.'

"That is my name,' I replied; and was passing on.

"You have been drinking to-day,' said the stranger kindly.

"Yes, sir,' I replied, 'I have.'

"Why do you not sign the pledge?' was the next query.

"I considered for a minute or two, and then informed the strange friend who had so unexpectedly interested himself in my behalf that I had no hope of ever again becoming a sober man-that I was without a single friend in the world who cared for me or what became of me -that I fully expected to die very soon-I cared not how soon, nor whether I died drunk or sober -in fact, that I was in a condition of utter recklessness.

"The stranger regarded me with a benevolent look, took me by the arm, and asked me how I should like to be as I once was, respectable and esteemed, well-clad, and sitting as I used to do in a place of worship, enabled to meet my friends as in old times, and receive from them the pleasant nod of recognition as formerly-in fact, become a useful member of society.

"Oh !' replied I, 'I should like all these things first-rate; but I have no expectation that such a thing will ever happen. Such a change cannot be possible.'

"Only sign our pledge,' replied my friend, and I will warrant that it shall be so. Sign it, and I will myself introduce you to good friends, who will feel an interest in your welfare, and take pleasure in helping you to keep your good resolution. Only, Mr. Gough, sign the pledge, and all will be as I have said, ay, and more too!'

"Oh! how pleasantly fell these words of kindness and promise on my crushed and bruised heart. I had long been a stranger to feelings such as now awoke in my bosom. A chord had

"I cannot do so to-night,' I replied, for I must have some more drink presently; but I certainly will to-morrow.'

"We have a Temperance meeting to-morrow evening,' he said; 'will you sign it then?' "I will.'

"That is right,' said he, grasping my hand, I will be there to see you.'

"You shall,' I remarked, and we parted.

"I went on my way much touched by the kind interest that, at last, some one had taken in my welfare. I said to myself, If it should be the last act of my life, I will perform my promise and sign it, even though I die in the attempt; for that man has placed confidence in me, and therefore I love him.'

....

"All next day the coming event of the evening was continually before my mind's eye, and it seemed to me as if the appetite which had so long controlled me exerted more power over me than ever. It grew stronger than I had at any time known it, now that I was about to rid myself of it. Until noon I struggled against its cravings; and then, unable to endure my misery any longer, I made some excuse for leaving the shop, and went nearly a mile in order to procure one more glass, with which to appease the demon who so tortured me.

"The day wore wearily away; and when evening came I determined, in spite of many a hesitation, to perform the promise I had made to the stranger the night before. The meeting was to be held at the Lower Town-hall, Worcester; and thither, clad in an old brown surtout, closely buttoned up to the chin, that my ragged habiliments beneath might not be visible, I repaired. I took a place among the rest; and when an opportunity of speaking presented itself, I requested permission to be heard, which was readily granted. . . I lifted my quivering hand, and then and there told what rum had done for me. I related how I was once respectable and happy, and had a home; but that now I was a houseless, miserable, scathed, diseased, and blighted outcast from society. I said scarce a hope remained to me of ever becoming that which I once was; but having promised to sign the pledge, I was determined not to break my word, and would now affix my name to it. In my palsied hand I with difficulty grasped the pen, and, in characters almost as crooked as those of old Stephen Hopkins, I signed the total abstinence pledge, and resolved to free myself from the inexorable tyrant-RUM!"

YOUNG MEN OF ENGLAND! Such is the appalling history of John Gough! Now for the lessons it teaches you.

I. The path of safety-total abstinence! Do you shudder at the thought of the possibility of falling into the same depths in which he was engulfed? Then

"BEWARE OF THE FIRST GLASS!" II. The path of recovery-total abstinence! The drunkard will never become

sober by degrees. It is in this as in a higher matter,

"Now IS THE ACCEPTED TIME, AND NOW IS THE DAY OF SALVATION."

III. The path of duty for abstainers. The example of Mr. Stratton, the gentleman who spoke to Gough, is worthy of universal imitation. How few the words! How vast the results! But for them a great spirit had perished, and the world had lost one of the most powerful advo

cates that ever pleaded the cause of humanity!

Reader! art thou an abstainer? If not, behold your danger! If so,—

"Go THOU AND DO LIKEWISE!"

N.B. The work from which we have made the above extracts, and which has just appeared in England, is reprinted from the seventeenth American edition, and published by Darton and Harvey, Holborn-hill.

"For prices and further particulars apply to Mr. F. Cleverton, Solicitor, 1, Courtenay-street, Plymouth, who has several sums of money to lend on approved security.

"Dated September 22, 1845."

I could wish you to call the attention of the readers of the CHRISTIAN WITNESS to its infamous contents. What is it short of a specimen of the most sordid blasphemy? A lot of God's souls to be handed over to the highest bidder! Omnia venduntur was an important concession of Jones of Nayland, when he wrote his Plea for continued adherence to the Establishment. And here is the proof. All things are sold. The wares, all to be had at market-price in Babylon: "The merchandize of gold, and silver, and precious stones, and of pearls, and fine linen, and purple, and silk, and scarlet, and all thyine-wood, and all manner vessels of ivory, and all manner vessels of most precious wood, and of brass, and iron, and marble; and cinnamon, and odours, and ointments, and frankincense, and wine, and oil, and fine flour, and wheat, and beasts, and sheep, and horses, and chariots, and slaves, and

A

SOULS OF MEN." Can anything be more accurate than the resemblance between the description and the original? Church friend of mine shook his head when I asked him, "What is that on the wall?" and he said, "Ah! that's a Church blot.' A blot, indeed! It is a perfect gangrene; a loathsome symptom of radical disease, which nothing will cure but the death of the Church and State monstrosity, and the transmigration of the living souls that belong to it into forms more Scriptural. We have many such souls in this locality. But what corrupting insensibility does the system engender! Not one, clergyman or layman, has been found to stand up in Christian dignity and self-respect to protest even against this outrage! It is for you, Mr. Editor, to protest; and if it be vile to protest as you have done, I hope you will be ten times more vile henceforth. If they that live delicately like to write with crow-quills, don't discourage them; their hands will grow strong by exercise, and then the crow-quill will be laid aside. Your hand, however, is mercifully adapted to a higher calling; you love to call things by their right names, to prescribe lessons for the use of a class of people who must read whilst they work, or not at all. They want ideas in "large letters and short sentences," such as will catch their eye in passing, and never be forgotten. About how many things that are done according to the law of Babylon must there needs be written, as on adamant, THIS IS INFAMY! And for this the crow-quill is of little use; the crow-bar would be an instrument at which the devil would laugh much less: but that which in my conscience I believe God approves is the iron pen of intelligent and unshrinking faithfulness. I fancy I see the CHRISTIAN WITNESS with this,