Part 24 (2/2)
I then inquired after the health of his wife and child: his reply was, ”They are well and happy.” I asked him if ”his wife made him any trouble” now. ”Trouble,” said he, ”no; and never did make any: it was I that made the trouble. You told me so, and I knew it at the time. _But what could I do?_ So long as I remained here, I could not turn a corner in your streets without pa.s.sing a grog-shop. I could not go to my meals without coming in contact with some a.s.sociate who would try to entice me to drink with him; and even the keepers of these shops would try every artifice to induce me to drink; for they knew that if they could get me to taste once, I should never know when to stop, and they would be sure to get a good bill against me.
”I have now come,” said he, ”to tell you why I left you. It was because I knew that I should die if I did not leave off drinking, and I saw distinctly that I could never leave off while I remained in Hartford. My only hope was, in going where liquor was not to be had.”
About two years and a half after this, he applied to me for further employment, as the business he was following had failed. I told him there was no man whom I should rather employ, but I could not think of having him encounter again the temptations which he had so miraculously escaped. He very pleasantly replied, ”I am a man now, and do not believe I have any thing more to fear from the temptations of the city than you have.”
I told him that I had confidence in the firmness of his purpose, but feared to see it put to the test. Yet, as he was out of business, I consented; and no man that I ever employed did better, or was more deserving of confidence and respect. He continued with me till spring, when he proposed to take his work into the country, so that he could be with his family: the arrangement was made, and I employ him still.
On the fourth of July last, (1839,) the Sunday-schools in the town where he resides made arrangements for a celebration, and I was invited to be present and address them. As I looked upon the audience, the first countenance that met my eye was that of this very man, _at the head of his Sunday-school cla.s.s_. The sight almost overwhelmed me. Instead of a loathsome, drunken maniac--a terror to his family and a curse to society, whose very presence was odious, and his example pestilential--he was then, in the expressive language of Scripture, ”clothed, and in his right mind;” and was devoted to the heavenly work of guiding children to Christ and salvation. He had made a public profession of religion, which he was daily honoring by a life of Christian meekness and sobriety.
O, who can comprehend the tide of domestic joy, of social happiness, and of Christian consolation which flows through the heart of this man and his family, in consequence of this change in his habits?
Now, what was the cause of this surprising change? What wrought this wonderful transformation in this individual? The whole story is told in one short line. _He went where intoxicating liquor was not sold._ Had he remained in this city, he would probably long since have been laid in the drunkard's grave.
PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY.
REFORMATION OF DRUNKARDS.
Truly we live in an age of wonders. Under peculiar influences, hundreds and thousands of once hopeless drunkards are becoming sober men--yet the work of reform has but commenced. It is computed that there are in the land no less than five hundred thousand habitual inebriates. The condition of each individual calls for sympathy and aid, that he may become a sober man, and through the blessing of G.o.d, gain eternal life.
For drunkenness there is and can be no apology; but the condition of the drunkard is often pitiable in the extreme. However gradual, or respectable, may have been his progress in the descent called _temperate drinking_, the appet.i.te now _is formed_ within him--the drunkard's appet.i.te. Wretched man! He feels what not faintly resembles the gnawing of ”the worm that never dies.” He asks for help. There are times when he would give worlds to be reformed. Every drunkard's life, could it be written, would tell this in letters of fire. He struggles to resist the temptation, causes himself to be shut up in prison, throws himself on board a temperance s.h.i.+p for a distant voyage, seeks new alliances and new employments, wrestles, agonizes, but all in vain. He rises to-day but to fall to-morrow; and amid disappointment and reproach, poverty and degradation, he says, ”Let me alone, I cannot live,” and plunges headlong to destruction.
Who will come to his rescue? Who will aid in the deliverance of thousands of thousands from this debasing thraldom of sin and Satan? Our aid they must have.
Their _number_ demands it. Half a million, chiefly adults, often heads of families, having each a wife and children, making miserable a million and a half of relatives and friends. They pa.s.s, too, in rapid succession. Ten years is the measure of a generation, and if nothing is done to save them, in the next forty years two millions may be swept into eternity.
Their personal degradation and suffering require it. What would we not do to pull a neighbor out of the water, or out of the fire, or to deliver him from Algerine captivity, or wrest him from the hand of a pirate or midnight a.s.sa.s.sin? But what captivity, what pirate, what murderer so cruel as Alcohol?
Their _families_ plead for it. The innocent and the helpless, the lambs, in the paw of the tiger, and that tiger a husband and father. Amid hungering and thirsting, cold and nakedness, humiliation and shame, sufferings which no pen can describe, they ask for aid.
_The good of the community_ demands it. While they live as they do, they are only a moth and a curse. The moment they are reformed, society is relieved of its greatest burden. The poor-house and the jail become almost tenantless.
_The practicability of a sudden and complete reform of every drunkard in the land_ calls for it. This, science has denied. Religion has only said, ”With man it is impossible, but not with G.o.d; for with G.o.d all things are possible.” But science yields to experiment, and religion marches on joyful in the footsteps of Providence. Thousands among us say, ”How it has been done, we know not. One thing we know, that whereas once we were drunkards, now we are sober men.”
But above all, _the salvation of the soul_ makes it indispensable.
Temperance is not religion. Outward reformation is not religion; but by this reform a great obstacle is removed, and thousands of these miserable men may be brought into the kingdom of G.o.d. The strong chain that has been thrown around them by the ”prince of the power of the air,” is broken. They may be approached as they never could be before.
Conviction of sin is fastened upon their conscience. Grat.i.tude inspires their bosoms. Good men are, of choice, their companions. The dram-shop is exchanged for the house of G.o.d. A Bible is purchased. Their little ones they bring to the door of the Sabbath-school. They flee affrighted from the pit; and, through grace, many lift up their hands imploringly to heaven, as the only refuge for the outcast, the home for the weary.
This has been the operation of the reform in England. Of thirty-five thousand reformed drunkards in that country, fifty-six hundred have become members of Christian churches, having hope in G.o.d and joy in the Holy Ghost. So it has been in Scotland; many there now sing of grace and glory. So it manifestly is in America, and so will it be more and more around the world, as ministers and Christians meet them in kindness and lead them to the waters of salvation.
But what can we do? How can we aid the poor unfortunate drunkard? This is the question.
All can do a little. Some can do much. Every man can get out of the way of his reform; cease setting him an example which proves his ruin; cease selling him an article which is death to the soul; discountenance the drinking usages of society, and those licensed and unlicensed dram-shops which darken the land. Every man can speak an encouraging word to the wretched inebriate; tell him of what is doing in the land, allure him and go with him to the temperance-meeting, and urge him to sign the pledge; and when he has signed, comfort and strengthen him, give him employment, give him clothing; and if he falls, raise him up, and if he falls seven times, raise him up and forgive him.
Try it, Christian brother. I know your heart beats in grat.i.tude to G.o.d for what he has done; that he has raised up a new instrumentality for rescuing thousands of our race from the lowest degradation. It is a token of good for our country and the world. Enter into this field of labor. ”You know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ; that though he was rich, yet for our sakes he became poor, that we through his poverty might become rich.” Go imitate his example; become poor, if need be, to save the lost. ”Go out into the highways and hedges, and compel them to come in.”
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