Part 26 (1/2)
It was an awful warning; and I don't think there were three oaths sworn on board the Alert for three days after. To tell the truth, Tom, I have had some queer feelings about death and the judgment, lately; and although I tried hard to drown them in grog, they would come up in spite of me. But I'll tell you more about it when we reach your lodgings, where we will be quiet and uninterrupted. You got safely back, I hope?
TOM. Yes, Jack, thanks to a kind Providence. I made two more voyages with the same captain; and I expect to go with him next trip as mate. I have been able to send my sister a snug little sum to keep her comfortable; and I have something handsome in the seamen's savings bank, as I told you before; together with a clear head and a happy heart; trusting in my G.o.d, and loving all who bear his image. Now, Jack, what do you think of temperance?
JACK. Think of it? Why, Tom, I always _thought_ well of it, though I can't say that I have latterly _practised_ it much; but I like it now better than ever. I have ruminated a good deal upon its evils, both at sea and ash.o.r.e. Don't you think, Tom, that rum is at the bottom of nine out of ten of the floggings that take place in the navy?
TOM. Yes, indeed, Jack, I am sure of it. And I think, moreover, that if it were discarded _entirely_ from the government and merchant service, insubordination and floggings would be of rare occurrence in the one, and trouble and mutiny in the other. And there would be fewer vessels and lives lost in the merchant-service, in the bargain.
JACK. I have often thought, Tom, what a degrading thing that flogging is. It sinks a man below the level of a brute, both in his own and the eyes of others. It seems to me that if I had ever been triced up at the gratings, and had a stroke of the cat, it would have completely crushed my spirit, if it had not broken my heart outright.
TOM. I think it would have had the same effect on me too, Jack. I am sure I could not have stood it.
JACK. And, Tom, to show more of the bad effects of liquor, I remember that I was once in Port-au-Prince, in the island of St. Domingo, during the sickly season, when a fearful mortality raged among the s.h.i.+pping, so that every vessel lost some of her men; most of them bringing on the yellow-fever by their intemperance. There were three s.h.i.+ps that were left without a man; all were swept off from the captain to the cook.
TOM. Awful, Jack, awful. I have also seen many a stout and n.o.ble-hearted tar, in those yellow-fever countries, stowed away under a foot of earth for the landcrabs to feed upon, just from drinking rum, or the strong brandy of the country. I'll tell you what it is, Jack, when the coppers are scalded by rum, physic can't get a hold--it is just like casting anchor on a rocky bottom--and so the grip of the grim monster Death is sure. The only safe man there, as well as everywhere else, indeed, is the teetotaler.
JACK. What is a teetotaler, Tom? I have often heard the term, without fully knowing what it meant.
TOM. A teetotaler, Jack, is one who conscientiously abstains from every description of intoxicating drink: rum, whiskey, brandy, gin, cordials, wine, cider, ale, and even beer.
JACK. What, Tom, you don't mean to say that you give such a wide berth to _beer_? Tell that to the marines, for old sailors won't believe it.
TOM. I do say it, Jack. I give even beer a wide berth. Don't you know that it contains alcohol? And what is perhaps worse, there is but little beer and ale made for sale that does not contain many hurtful ingredients--poisonous drugs. No, no; nothing for me that can in the slightest degree affect my n.o.ble reason, that great gift of Almighty G.o.d. Pure cold water--Adam's sparkling, life-invigorating ale--and coffee and tea, are my beverages. Try them once, Jack, and the word of an honest sailor for it, you will never go back to alcohol, or any of its accursed family.
JACK. Well, Tom, I think I will. The fact is, you seem to be so well in body and happy in mind, so comfortable and respectable in worldly matters, and speak so cheeringly of another world--to which I know that the rapid current of time is hurrying us both--that I'll follow in your wake, and try to make a little headway in these things myself.
TOM. Well said, my hearty. Give me another shake of your honest fist.
Now I begin to recognize my old true-hearted friend and messmate Jack Halyard in his early days, when we swore friends.h.i.+p to each other across the sea-chest, on board the Alert. You are the man for me, Jack; so come up with me at once to the Sailor's Home, and I'll rig you out a little more decently--make you look a little more s.h.i.+pshape--and to-night we will go to the great temperance-meeting at the seamen's bethel chapel, and you shall sign the pledge, which will be the wisest act of your life, Jack, as I'll wager a barrel of pork against a mouldy biscuit: aye, I'll warrant me you will say so at some future day. There will be plenty of blue-jackets there that will lend a hand in so good a cause.
JACK. Well, heave ahead, old messmate. I did think of _tapering off_--quitting by degrees--but perhaps the safest and easiest plan will be, _to break off at once_.
TOM. That is the way, Jack, the only true way. Tapering off is not what it is cracked up to be. It is very hazardous; for it keeps up excitement, and the taste of the liquor hangs about the palate. Don't you remember Ben Hawser, one of the best maintopmen of the Alert--he who saved the first Luff from drowning at Port Mahon, when he fell overboard from the cutter?
JACK. Surely I do, Tom. Do you suppose I could forget such a n.o.ble-hearted fellow as Ben Hawser--as fine a fellow as ever laid out upon a yard, or stood at the wheel; and such a firstrate marlinespike seaman in the bargain? No, indeed.
TOM. You are right, Jack. He was a n.o.ble fellow, and a thorough seaman.
There was nothing of the lubber about poor Ben: always the first man at his duty, and ready to share his last copper with a fellow-mortal in distress, whether seaman or landsman. Well, Ben once got into a great frolic ash.o.r.e, and kicked up such a bobbery that the watchman clapped him in limbo for the night; and the justice next morning gave him such a clapper-clawing with his tongue, and bore down upon him so hard with his _reprimands_, as I think the lawyers call it, and raked him so severely fore and aft with his good advice, to wind up with, that Ben felt pretty sheepish; and, as he told us afterwards, didn't know whether he was on his head or his heels--on the truck, or on the keelson. He felt so sore about it, and so much ashamed of himself, that he did not touch a drop for six weeks. He then thought he would take it _moderately_ just enough to keep the steam up--or, as some folks say, he thought he would be a _temperate drinker_. O, Jack, that _temperate drinking_ is a famous net of old Satan's to catch fools in. Your temperate drinker treads on slippery ground; for as I verily believe that alcohol is one of the most active imps for the destruction of both body and soul, the temperate drinker is too often gradually led on by the fiend, until the habit becomes fixed and inveterate; and he drags a galling chain, each day riveted more strongly, and the poor wretch hourly becomes more callous to shame, until he sinks into the grave--_the drunkard's grave_.
JACK. But, Tom, you don't mean to say that poor Ben's reel has been run off in that style, do you?
TOM. Indeed, Jack, it is true, and sorry am I that it is so. Yes, I followed the worn-out hulk of Ben Hawser to the dark and silent grave a fortnight ago. He slipped his cable in the prime of life; and all along of _temperate drinking_ at first. Ben, like many other men, thought he was strong-minded, and could stop at a certain point; but he found, to his cost, that king Alcohol was stronger, and that when once he had forged his chains around his victim, he was sure of him, unless the grace of a merciful G.o.d intervened, and plucked him as a brand from the burning. So I advise every one to beware of _temperate drinking_. Give it a wide berth, or it may wreck you for time and for eternity.
One thing more, Jack. I would like your temperate drinker to pause, and reflect upon the fact, that the quant.i.ty of brandy or rum that he took at a drink, when he commenced this downhill course, has been gradually increased; so that in the second year, what had been quite sufficient to please his palate and produce all the desired effects in the first, was then insipidly small; and more so in the third year, if, mayhap, he could with any decency lay claim to the t.i.tle of _temperate drinker_ so long. Jack, this is a fearful reflection for one of this cla.s.s of the slaves of alcohol; but let him think upon it when quite free from excitement, say after two or three days' abstinence--if he can abstain that long just to cool off for reflection--and I'll warrant he will tremble at the prospect.
Besides, Jack, the _influence_ of your temperate drinker is ten times worse than that of the confirmed and notorious drunkard; for it is not likely that any one in his senses would desire to copy the confirmed sot in his beastliness. No, indeed; he would shrink with horror from the intoxicating bowl, if he felt sure that such would be the result to him, if he indulged. But he should remember, that no one ever became a sot _at once_; the degradation was by degrees. And it may be that your temperate drinker is a respectable and thriving man in the eyes of the world--say a great merchant, or lawyer, or master of a s.h.i.+p--and small folks do not imagine they are in any danger when they see such men stand fast, as they think: but they had all better remember the advice in Scripture, ”Let him that thinketh he standeth, take heed lest he fall;”
and so they follow in the wake, and perhaps nine out of ten go down to the grave _drunkards_; often, I am sure, in company with the very men whose example they thought so safe, but which led them to certain ruin.
It is an awful thought, Jack, that we have been the means of misleading others, either by example or precept; and one that will weigh like lead upon the conscience of many a man on his death-bed. No, no; my motto is, ”TOUCH NOT, TASTE NOT, HANDLE NOT.” The wise man of Scripture knew what he was about when he said, ”Look not upon the wine when it is red, when it giveth his color in the cup; at the last it biteth like a serpent, and stingeth like an adder.” The same wise man said also, that ”the drunkard and the glutton shall come to poverty.” But, Jack, what are poverty and shame, bad as they are, in comparison with the loss of the soul? Think of that--_the loss of the immortal soul_--for G.o.d says, that neither thieves, nor drunkards, nor any thing that defileth, shall enter heaven. And O, Jack, to think of being cast into h.e.l.l for ever, with the devil and his angels; how awful! _but such must be the fate of the unrepentant drunkard_.
JACK. Awful, indeed, Tom. I am now fully persuaded that you are right; and so I'll follow your good example, and sign the teetotal pledge. And what is more, I'll try to be a Christian too, for I believe that religion is the best security against every kind of temptation.