Chapter 14

Here the question occurs, _What can be done? How can this woe be arrested?_ The answer is plain. Nothing can be done, but in one of the three following ways. You must either suffer people to drink _immoderately_; or you must endeavor to promote _moderation_ in drinking; or you must try to persuade them to drink _none at all_. One of these plans must be adopted. Which shall we choose? The first is condemned already.

What say we to the second, the _moderate use_ of intoxicating drinks? It has unquestionably the sanction of high and ancient ancestry. It is precisely the plan on which intemperance has been wrestled with ever since it was first discovered that "wine is a mocker," and that "strong drink is raging." But hence comes its condemnation. Its long use is its death-witness. Were it new, we might hope something from its adoption. But it is old enough to have been tried to the uttermost. The wisdom, the energy, the benevolence of centuries have made the best of it. The attempt to keep down intemperance by endeavoring to persuade people to indulge only moderately in strong drink, has been the world's favorite for ages; while every age has wondered that the vice increased so rapidly.

At last we have been awakened to a fair estimate of the success of the plan. And what is it? So far from its having shown the least tendency to exterminate the evil, it is the mother of all its abominations. All who have attained the stature of full-grown intemperance, were once children in this nursery, sucking at the breasts of this parent. All the "men of strength to mingle strong drink," who are now full graduates in the vice, and "masters in the arts" of drunkenness, began their education and served their apprenticeship under the discipline of moderate drinking. All that have learned to lie down in the streets, and carry terror into their families, and whom intemperance has conducted to the penitentiary and the madhouse, may look back to this as the beginning of their course--the author of their destiny. No man ever set out to use strong drink with the expectation of becoming eventually a drunkard. No man ever became a drunkard without having at first assured himself that he could keep a safe rein upon every disposition that might endanger his strict sobriety. "_I am in no danger while I only take a little_," is the first principle in the doctrine of intemperance. It is high time it were discarded. It has deluged the land with vice, and sunk the population into debasement. The same results will ensue again, just in proportion as the moderate use of ardent spirits continues to be encouraged. Let the multitude continue to drink a little, and still our hundreds of thousands will annually drink to death.

It is settled, therefore, that to encourage moderate drinking is not the plan on which the temperance reformation can be successfully prosecuted. The faithful experiment of generation after generation, decides that it must be abandoned. A cloud of witnesses, illustrating its consequences in all the tender mercies of a drunkard's portion, demand that it should be abandoned. Its full time is come. Long enough have we refused to open our eyes to the evident deceitfulness of its pretensions. At last the country is awaking, and begins to realize the emptiness of this dream. Let it go as a dream, and only be remembered that we may wonder how it deceived, and lament how it injured us.

But, if this be discarded, what plan of reformation remains? If nothing is to be expected from endeavoring to promote a _moderate_ use of ardent spirits, and still less from an _immoderate_ use, what can be done? There is but one possible answer. _Persuade people to use none at all._ _Total abstinence_ is the only plan on which reformation can be hoped for. We are shut up to this. We have tried the consequences of encouraging people to venture but moderately into the atmosphere of infection; and we are now convinced that it was the very plan to feed its strength and extend its ravages. We are forced to the conclusion, that, to arrest the pestilence, we must starve it. All the healthy must abstain from its neighborhood. All those who are now temperate must give up the use of the means of intemperance. The deliverance of this land from its present degradation, and from the increasing woes attendant on this vice, depends altogether upon the extent to which the principle of total abstinence shall be adopted by our citizens.

But suppose this principle universally adopted, would it clear the country of intemperance? Evidently it is the only, but is it the effectual remedy? Most certainly, if all temperate persons would disuse ardent spirits, they could not cease to be temperate. Many a drunkard, under the powerful check of their omnipresent reproof, would be sobered. His companions would totter, one after another, to their graves. A few years would see them buried, and the land relinquished to the temperate. Then what would be the security against a new inroad of the exterminated vice? Why, public opinion would stand guard at every avenue by which it could come in.

Consider the operation of this influence. Why is it now so easy to entice a young man into the haunts of drunkenness? Because public opinion favors the use of the very means of his ruin. He may drink habitually, and fasten upon himself the appetite of drink, till he becomes enchained and feels himself a slave; but if he has never fallen into manifest intoxication, he has forfeited no character in public opinion. All this is a direct result of the fact, that those considered as temperate people set the example, and patronize the snare of moderate drinking. But suppose them to take the ground proposed, and bear down with the whole force of their example and influence on the side of entire abstinence, would they not create an immense force of public opinion against the least use of ardent spirits? How then could a temperate man ever become a drunkard? He has not yet contracted the desire for ardent spirits; and how will he contract it? Will he risk his character; fly in the face of public feeling and opinion; despise all the warnings in the history of intemperance, to get at the use, and put himself under the torture of that for which, as yet, he has no disposition? Only post a wakeful public sentiment at the little opening of moderate drinking, and the whole highway to the drunkard's ruin will be closed up. All its present travellers will soon pass away, while none will be entering to keep up the character of the road.

Most assuredly, then, the reformation of the land is in the power of public opinion. It is equally certain, that public opinion will accomplish nothing but by setting its influence directly in opposition to _any_ indulgence in strong drink. And it is just as plain, that in order to accomplish this, the temperate part of the population must create a power of example by setting out upon the firm and open ground of total abstinence. In proportion, then, as the temperate throughout the country shall come up to this ground, will the redemption of our enslaved republic be accomplished.

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Thus have we arrived at the last refuge of this cause. ABSTAIN ENTIRELY, is the grand principle of life, to be written upon the sacred standard of all temperance movements, and under which the contending host may be as sure of victory as if, like Constantine, they saw inscribed with a sunbeam upon the cloud, _In hoc signo vinces_.[F] But such being the eminent importance of total abstinence, it deserves to be presented in detail. We begin, therefore, with the position, that

_Entire abstinence from ardent spirits is essential to personal security._ Such is the insidious operation of strong drink upon all the barriers we may set up against excess; so secretly does it steal upon the taste, excite the appetite, disorganize the nervous system, and undermine the deepest resolutions of him who imagines himself in perfect security; so numerous and awful have been its victories over every barrier, and every species of mental and bodily constitution, that we may lay it down as an assertion, which none who know the annals of intemperance will dispute, that no individual who permits himself to use ardent spirits moderately, has any valid security that he will not become a victim to its power.

[Footnote F: Under this standard you shall conquer.]

We know the remarks which instantly mount to the lips of many at the sight of such an assertion: "Surely the little we take can never hurt us. Look around and see how many have done the same, and continued the habit to the end of life, without having ever been betrayed into drunkenness." We do look around, and are constrained to remark, how many have seemed to live temperately to the end, who, if the reality were known, would be quoted as warnings against the insidiousness of the poison, instead of examples of the security with which it may be used in moderation. They were never delirious; but were they never fevered? Fever is often fatal, without delirium. Ah, did every disease with which human beings are fevered, and swollen, and slain, receive a candid name; were every gravestone inscribed with a true memorial, as well of the life, as the death of him at whose head it stands; could every consumption, and dropsy, and liver-complaint, disclose its secret history; did every shaking nerve, and palsied stomach, and aching temple, and burning brain, and ruptured blood-vessel, relate how it began, and grew, and triumphed, we should hear, indeed, of many who died in consumption, or dropsy, and other diseases, without any impulse towards the grave from the use of strong drink; but of how many, never regarded as intemperate, should we learn that the real, though slow and silent cause of their death was _drink_. They lingered long, and their malady was called a disease of the lungs; or they fell suddenly, and it was a case of apoplexy; or they were greatly swollen, and it was considered dropsy; they lost their powers of digestion, and were said to be troubled with dyspepsia; every vital function refused its natural action, and the poor victim was treated for a liver-complaint. But why? what produced the disease? Alcohol! They were poisoned. They died of the intemperate use of ardent spirits, however moderately they may have had the credit of indulging in them.

But again, we look at the world, and while we cannot acknowledge that they have habitually indulged in even a moderate use of ardent spirits without receiving some injury--for alcohol must hurt a healthy man in some way or other--we do acknowledge that many have thus indulged with no very perceptible injury. They have continued sober. But so it must be acknowledged, that many have breathed the air and mingled with the victims of a pestilence, without being infected; or stood amidst the carnage of battle, without receiving a wound. But were they in no danger? Because they came off unhurt, shall _we_ be willing to rush into the streets of an infected city, or join the conflict of charging battalions?

But again, we look at the world, and see how many have been slain, while many have lived; how many who, if exalted station, eminent talents, great attainments, excellent feelings, and heavy responsibilities, are any security, might, with more than usual reason, have flattered themselves with the assurance of safety: men of all professions, of strong nerves, and numerous resolutions and precautions, at last reduced to a level with the brutes; and this spectacle forces the conviction that entire abstinence is the only security against final ruin. Had you a tree in your gardens, the fruit of which should be discovered to have inflicted disease as often as the prudent use of ardent spirits has resulted in the sorrows of intemperance, that tree would be rooted up. Its fruit would be entitled _poison_. The neighborhood would be afraid of it. Children would be taught to beware of so much as venturing to try how it tastes.

Again: _The total disuse of ardent spirits, on the part of parents, is the only plan of safety in bringing up their children._ How many are the parents whose lives are cursed with children who, were it not that "no drunkard hath any inheritance in the kingdom of God," they would be relieved to hear were dead! But how were those children ruined? "_Ah, by those corrupting companions; by that vile dram-shop_," the parents would answer. But what first inclined their way to that house of seduction? By what avenue did evil associates first effect a lodgment in those children's hearts? How many parents must turn and look at home for an answer! They have not been intemperate; but while the tastes and habits of their children were forming, they used to drink moderately of ardent spirits. The decanter containing it had an honorable place on the sideboard and on the table. It was treated respectfully, as a fountain of strength to the feeble, of refreshment to the weary; and as perfectly safe when used in moderation. To offer it to a friend was a debt of hospitality. Thus the whole weight of parental example was employed in impressing those children with a favorable idea of the pleasure, the benefit, and the security, not to speak of the necessity, of the use of ardent spirits. Thus the parents presented the decanter of strong drink to their children, with a recommendation as forcible as if every day they had encircled it with a chaplet of roses, and pronounced an oration in its praise.

And what consequences were to be expected? Children who revere their parents will honor what their parents delight to honor. It was not to be supposed that those children would do else than imitate the high example before them. Most naturally would they try the taste, and emulate to acquire a fondness for strong drink. They would think it sheer folly to be afraid of what their parents used. In a little while the flavor would become grateful. They would learn to think of it, ask for it, contrive ways of obtaining it, and be very accessible to the snares of those who used it to excess. Thus easily would they slide into the pit. And thus the history of the decline, and fall, and death of multitudes must commence, not at the dram-shop, but at the tables of parents; not with describing the influence of seductive companions, but with a lamentation over the examples of inconsiderate parents, who furnished those companions with their strongest argument, and wreathed their cup of death with a garland of honor.

Such consequences must be looked for wherever parental example is expected to be held in reverence among children. A father may venture to the brink of a precipice, and stand without giddiness upon the margin of the torrent that rushes by and plunges into a deep abyss; but will he trust his child to occupy the same position? But if the child see him there, is there no danger that when the parent's eye is away, he too will venture, and go and play upon the frightful verge, and be amused with the bubbles as they dance along the side of the cataract, and at last become giddy, and be drawn in with the rush of the tide?

Entire abstinence from the drink of drunkards is the parents' only plan in training up their children.

Again: _The total disuse of ardent spirits is essential to the beneficial influence of the example of the temperate upon society at large._

However novel the assertion to some, it can be easily shown that the example of all who use ardent spirits, except as they use prescribed medicine, _is in the scale of intemperance_. As far as its influence extends, it helps directly to fill up the ranks of the intemperate, and annually to launch a multitude of impenitent souls into a hopeless eternity. Can this be true? Suppose all the rising generation, in imitation of their elders, should commence the moderate use of strong drink. They are thus attracted into the current of the stream which is setting silently, smoothly, powerfully, towards the roaring whirlpool. But now they are urged by those whose example they have thus far followed, to go no farther. "Beware," they cry, "the tide is strong; do like us; drop the anchor, ply the oar." Ah, but now their influence fails. It was strong enough to persuade the thoughtless into danger; but now it is perfectly impotent to keep them from ruin. They have none of the strength or prudence by which others have been enabled to keep their place. They have no anchor to drop, nor skill at the oar. They yield, and go down, and perish. But where must we look for the prime cause of this destruction? To those whose example enticed them into the way--_the example of prudent drinkers_.

Such, unquestionably, was the influence by which a great portion of those now intemperate were first drawn into the snares of death. It is not, as many suppose, the odious example of those already under the dominion of intemperate habits, by which others are seduced; the operation of such disgusting precedents is rather on the side of entire abstinence from the means of their debasement. But it is to the honor given the degrading cup, by those who can drink without what is considered excess, that we must ascribe, in a great degree, the first seduction of all who receive the ultimate wages of intemperance.

Again: Entire abstinence from strong drink should be the rule of all; because, _to one in health, it never does good, but, on the contrary, it always, of its very nature, does harm_. We know the general idea, that hard labor, and cold weather, and a hot sun demand its use; that a little to stimulate the appetite, and a little to help digestion, and a little to compose us to sleep, and a little to refresh us when fatigued, and a little to enliven us when depressed, is very useful, if not necessary. And we know how soon so many little matters make a great amount. We have often been called to "behold how great a matter a little fire kindleth." A more unfounded idea never was adopted, than that a man in health can need such medicine. Is there any nourishment in drinking alcohol? About as much as in eating fire.

But why should not the opinions of physicians suffice on this point? If we take their advice as to what will cure us when sick, why not also as to what will injure us when well? The first medical men throughout the land do not more perfectly agree, that to breathe a foul atmosphere is pernicious, than that the use of strong drink, in any quantity, is hurtful. _Abstain entirely_, is their loud and reiterated advice. Many of them will even maintain that it can easily and profitably be dispensed with in medicine.

But how speaks experience on this head? Who works the longest under the sun of August, or stands the firmest against the winter, or abides the safest amidst abounding disease, or arrives last at the infirmities of old age? The experiment of total abstinence has been fairly tried in thousands of cases, by those who once imagined they must drink a little every day; and invariably have they borne a grateful testimony to its happy effects upon the health of their bodies and the peace of their minds. Farms are tilled, harvests gathered, ships built, companies of militia parade, associations of firemen labor, fishermen stand their exposure, the student trims his lamp, the hungry eat their bread, and the weary take their rest, with no debt of thanks to the aid of the distillery.

We say no more upon the plan of entire abstinence. But we will mention four reasons which should embolden any friend of temperance in urging it upon others.

1. It is extremely _simple_. All can comprehend, all can execute it. It requires no labor; costs no study; consumes no time.

2. It contains no _coercion_. Its whole force is that of reason. The influence of laws and of magistrates it does not embrace. No man can complain of a trespass upon his liberty, when we would persuade him to escape the drunkard's slavery by not tasting the drunkard's cup.

3. _In this cure there is no pain._ It is recommended to whom? _the temperate_--to those who, having formed no strong attachment to ardent spirit, can feel no great self-denial in renouncing its use.

4. In this remedy _there is no expense_. To those who complain of other works of usefulness because of their cost, this is without blame. To drink no spirits, will cost no money. But what will it save? It will save the majority of the poorer class of the population, in most of our towns, one half their annual rent. It will empty all our almshouses and hospitals of two thirds their inhabitants, and support the remainder. Yes, such is the tax which the consumption of ardent spirits annually levies upon this nation, that the simple disuse of strong drink, throughout the land, would save in one year the value of at least five times the whole national revenue.

It is too late to say that a general adoption of the great principle of total abstinence is too much to be hoped for. A few years ago, who would not have been considered almost deranged had he predicted what has already been accomplished in this cause? Great things, wonderful things, have already been effected. The enemies of this reformation, whose pecuniary interests set them in opposition, are unable to deny this fact. It is felt from the distillery to the dram-shop. It is seen from Maine to the utmost South and West. Every traveller perceives it. Every vender knows it. The whole country wonders at the progress of this cause. It is rapidly and powerfully advancing. _One thing_, and only one, can prevent its entire success. The frenzy of drunkenness cannot arrest its goings. The hundreds of thousands in the armies of intemperance cannot resist its march. But the _temperate_ can. If backward to come up to the vital principle of this work, _they will_ prevent its accomplishment. But the banner of triumph will wave in peace over all the land, hailed by thousands of grateful captives from the gripe of death, in spite of all the warring of the "mighty to drink wine," if those who abhor intemperance, and think they would be willing to make a great sacrifice to save their children or friends from its blasting curse, will only come up to the little effort of entire abstinence. This is the surest and shortest way to drain off the river of fire now flowing through the land. It is the moderate use of the temperate that keeps open the smoking fountains from which that tide is poured.

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TO YOUNG MEN who have not yet been brought under the dominion of intemperate habits, we address the urgent exhortation of this cause. Consider the immense responsibility that devolves upon you. It is not too much to say that the question, whether this nation is to be delivered front the yoke of death--whether the present march of reformation shall go on till the last hiding-place of this vice shall be subdued, or else be arrested and turned back, with the sorrow of beholding the vaunting triumph, and the emboldened increase of all the ministers of woe which attend in the train of intemperance, rests ultimately with you. You compose the muscle and sinew of this nation. You are to set the example by which the next generation is to be influenced. By your influence its character will be formed. By your stand its position will, in a great measure, be determined. You are soon to supplant those who have passed the state of life which you now are occupying. Soon the generation that is to grow up under the influence of your example and instruction, will have reached your place. Thus are you the heart of the nation. Corruption and debasement here must be felt to the extremities of the national body. Temperance here will eventually expel, by its strong pulsations, the last remnant of the burning blood of drunkenness from the system, and carry soberness and health to every member of our political constitution.