At a meeting in Philadelphia, during the week of prayer, one of the speakers related this incident:— A lad was approached by one of those dispensers of that which deprives men of their property and destroys both body and soul, who solicited him to come into his place of destruction and take a glass of lemonade. The boy hesitated, but on being assured that he would get nothing but a glass of nice, sweet lemonade, he was induced to go in. Sure enough, he was offered what had been promised him, and nothing more. This was repeated several times, till at length, the trap having been set, it was now time to spring it. Accordingly, the rumseller began his work by dropping into the glass of lemonade one drop of strong liquor, increasing it so as imperceptibly to form in the lad a taste for it. As the boy never paid for his drinks, one of the old customers of the place asked the landlord why he so favored him. He replied by saying, "Do you see that fine mansion upon the hill yonder? That belongs to the boy's father, and will probably soon belong to him, and then in turn it may belong to me." Fiendish! Horrible! A long-headed, deep-laid scheme to ruin a family and rob them of their property: for certainly such a scheme, if successful, could be looked upon as nothing less than downright robbery, and as much a penitentiary offense as any other kind of robbery. But are not all rumsellers alike in this respect? They do not care who is hurt, who comes to grief, who suffers the pangs of hunger and cold, who goes to a home of sorrow and wretchedness, whose children cry for bread, or whose wife is abused, or beaten, or murdered, so they but fill their own coffers and live on the fat of the land.—Sel.