Very often physical weakness causes drunkenness. Many a man
takes a drink because the task put upon him is heavier than he
can bear. The whiskey does not help him--it hurts him. But it
cheats him and makes him THINK that he is helped.
You realize that whiskey drinking as a settled habit must be
fought with weapons of some kind.
WILL POWER is the great weapon to use in our own behalf. You
tell the drunkard to use his will power.
But you forget that the first thing that whiskey attacks is will
power.
You remind the drunkard that his weakness brings suffering on
others, and you appeal to his conscience. But you forget that
whiskey weakens conscience even more than it weakens the nerves.
You forget, too, that whiskey makes its victims suffer. If
he could free himself he would do so, if only for his own sake.
And you must not forget that whiskey argues ingeniously, in
addition to its telling of lies.
A man is overcome with some great grief. Whiskey makes him
forget, or at least it makes him not care.
A man is suffering some great humiliation, some sense of personal
shortcoming, that is intolerable to him. Whiskey offers to
relieve him, and for the moment it does relieve him. ----
YOU who talk nobly of temperance and advocate laws governing
other men are apt to be proud of your own self-control.
Perhaps you have been a drinking man and have stopped. But you
do not know how much lighter whiskey's hold may have been upon
you than upon others.
Suppose you worked hard every day, every week and every year.
Suppose you had no pleasure in life, save the fictitious pleasure
and excitement that come from whiskey. Suppose you failed, and
failed and failed again--and suppose that whiskey was always
ready to praise you, make you feel proud of yourself, make you
hold others responsible for your failures--are you sure you could
let it alone? ----
In your condemnation of those who persist in whiskey drinking
you must remember that what is easy for one man is very hard for
another.
Suppose you should urge two animals to go without meat--one of
the animals being a tiger and the other a sheep. Would you
praise the sheep for its faithful keeping of the promise? Would
you blame the tiger for breaking its word, if the temptation to
eat meat were offered?
In men's nervous systems, in their craving for alcohol, there is
as great a difference between different temperaments as between
the appetites of the sheep and the tiger. One man is dragged
toward the gulf by whiskey with a force of which you have no
conception.
You look with contempt at a hopeless drunkard, shuffling along
toward destruction.
THERE ARE THOUSANDS OF SUCH MEN WHO EVERY DAY OF THEIR LIVES
MAKE AN EFFORT OF THE WILL OF WHICH YOU WOULD BE INCAPABLE.
But that effort, great as it is, is not great enough to save
them--whiskey drags them too hard in the other direction.
Fortunately, we can all congratulate ourselves on the steady
falling off in drunkenness. To drink to excess is no longer
respectable. Once it was a leading sign of respectability.
Doctors in the old days wrote their prescriptions illegibly,
because when called late at night they were usually drunk.
To-day a drunken doctor cannot possibly survive.
Work as hard as you can against drunkenness, for drunkenness
harms every one, even the saloon-keeper himself. The drunkard
soon comes to ruin and ceases to be a profitable customer.
Argue with young men, and talk to children ABOUT THEIR OWN
WELFARE in the matter.
But remember also that the drunkard often has tried harder than
you could try to overcome the enemy that has conquered him.
Remember that unless you have lived his life you cannot know his
excuse and cannot judge him.