Innocent youth changed to reckless wickedness, noble manhood turned to brutes falling from honorable places in society down into drunkards' loathsome lives, drunkards' dishonored graves.
How could these pityin' sperits help weepin' over it?
And the long, agonized procession follerin' on--pale, wretched mothers, once happy wives, now hungry, broken-hearted wrecks, with pinched, starved children clingin' to their ragged skirts.

The idee of askin' this pure heavenly Host to praise God for what brought all this to pass! Praise Father, Son and Holy Ghost.
Why, I believe that Satan himself, though he loved to see the work go on, would be ashamed to sing the Doxology there.

I don't believe you'd ketch him at it, for he is so smart he would see in a minute how it would look to praise God for such a place as that when he had said plain: "Cursed is he that putteth the cup to his neighbor's lips." And Satan knowed jest as well as Josiah and I and the world did, that saloons wuz made a purpose for this.
"And no drunkard hath eternal life." And that minister wuz ordained to help people attain that life, not to help 'em lose it.
I don't see what he wuz thinkin' on.

Of course, the top of the long slippery descent to ruin is quite cheerful lookin', lit up with false lights, hollow mirth, false hopes and dreams lurin' the victims on and down.

But he knowed how slippery it wuz, how impossible it wuz for ordinary men to stand up when they got to slidin' down.