My dear friends, I said that Lord Cumber's health and property were good things, but I know a thing that's better, more valuable, richer--and what is that?
It is here, in this poor frail--but not frail so long as that thing is here--that thing, what is it?
Oh, if you had prayed for it, wrestled for it, fought for it, as I did, you would know what it is, and all the delightful and elevating consolations it brings along with it.

Surely some one drank Lord Cumber's health! That was well; he sitteth in a high place, and deserveth honor.

Let us drink his health, my friends--let us drink it, yea, abundantly, even unto rejoicing.

But what is this thing?
Why, it is the sense of inward support, a mild, sweet light, that diffuses pleasant thoughts through you, that multiplies every good gift about you, that makes one cup of pleasant liquor seem two.

It is not to many that these things are vouchsafed; not, I believe, to any here, always with humility and fear be it spoken, excepting Bob Spaight and myself-- "'-- July the first in Oldbridge town, responded Bob, "' There was a grievous battle, Where many a man lay on the ground, By the cannons that did rattle.'-- "'Yea,' pursued Bob, 'the gift is come, brother Solomon--the fifth cup always brings it-- -- 'King James he pitched his tents between'-- "'Aye, but, brother Bob,' resumed Solomon, 'the gift is a little too soon on this occasion.