It was about a month after the harvest-home, so full of sad memories for
all at the hall and rectory, that Mr Oliphant was seated one afternoon
in the drawing-room of Greymoor Park. The company assembled consisted
of the baronet and Lady Oldfield; the baronet's brother, Reverend John
Oldfield; Dr Portman, the medical man; and Bernard Oliphant.
Mr John Oldfield had been telling the news of his part of the county to
his brother and sister-in-law.
"You'll be sorry to hear," he continued, "that poor Mildman's dead."
"Indeed!" exclaimed the rector. "I'm very sorry. Was there any change
in him before his death?"
"No, I fear not. His has been a very sad case. I remember him well
when he was vicar of Sapton. A brighter and more loving Christian and
pastor I never knew, but somehow or other he got into drinking habits,
and these have been his ruin."
"Poor man," said Sir Thomas, "he used to be the laughing-stock of old
Bellowen, his squire; it was very grievous to see a man throw himself
away as he did. The squire would ply him with drink, and press the
bottle upon him, till poor Mildman was so tipsy that he had to be taken
by the servants to the vicarage. Sometimes the butler had to put him
into a cart, when it was dark, and had him tumbled out like so much
rubbish at his own door."
"Really," said Lady Oldfield, "I was surprised to hear Mr Bellowen talk
about him in the way he did. He endeavoured in every possible way to
get him to drink, while at the very same time he despised and abused him
for drinking, and would launch out at the clergy and their self-
indulgent habits."
"Yes," said her brother-in-law; "no one knew better what a clergyman
ought to be than the squire. We may be very thankful that his charges
against our order were gross exaggerations. We may congratulate
ourselves that the old-fashioned drunken parson is now pretty nearly a
creature of the past. Don't you think so, Mr Oliphant?"
"I confess to you," replied the rector, "that I was rather thinking, in
connection with poor Mildman's sad history, of those words, `Let him
that thinketh he standeth take heed lest he fall.'"
"Why, surely you don't think there is much danger in these days of many
persons of our profession becoming the victims of intemperance?"
"I cannot feel so sure about that," was the reply. "You know I hold
strong views on the subject. I wish I could see more clergymen total
abstainers."
"I must say that I quite disagree with you there," said the other; "what
we want, in my view, is, not to make people total abstainers, but to
give them those principles which will enable them to enjoy all lawful
indulgences lawfully."
"I should heartily concur in this view," said Mr Oliphant, "if the
indulgence in strong drink to what people consider a moderate extent
were exactly on the same footing as indulgence in other things. But
there is something so perilous in the very nature of alcoholic
stimulants, that multitudes are lured by them to excess who would have
been the last to think, on commencing to drink, that themselves could
possibly become transgressors."
"Then it is the duty of us clergymen," said the other, "to warn people
to be more on their guard against excess in this direction but not, by
becoming total abstainers ourselves, to lead our flocks to suppose that
there is sin in the mere taking of any amount of intoxicating liquors,
however small."
"I think," said Mr Oliphant, very gravely, "that our duty is something
beyond, and, may I say, above this. We live in a peculiarly self-
indulgent age, when men are exceedingly impatient of anything like a
restraint upon their appetites and inclinations. We have, besides this,
the acknowledged fact that, where other sins slay their thousands,
drunkenness slays its hundreds of thousands of all ages. Is it not,
then, a privilege, (I always prefer to put it rather as a privilege than
a duty), for us, who are to be as lights in the world, as ensamples to
our flocks, to take a high stand in this matter, and show that we will
deny ourselves that which has so insidiously worked the ruin of
millions, that so we may perhaps win poor fallen creatures, fallen
through drink, to come out of their miserable slough by crying to them,
not merely `Come out,' but `Come out and follow us!'"
Mr Oldfield did not answer; but Sir Thomas, turning to the rector,
said,--
"I am sure this subject is deeply interesting to both you and myself, on
our dear Frank's account. You know my views on the subject of total
abstinence. Still I feel that there may be exceptional cases, where its
adoption may be wise, and I could imagine that his might be such a
case."
"I heartily agree with you," replied Mr Oliphant.
"Oh no, my dear," exclaimed Lady Oldfield; "I am quite sure total
abstinence would never suit poor Frank; his constitution would not bear
it; I appeal to you, Dr Portman, is it not so?"
"I am quite of your ladyship's opinion," said the doctor.
"You hear what Dr Portman says," cried her ladyship, turning to the
rector.
"I do," was the reply; "but that does not alter my conviction. Medical
men's views have greatly changed of late years on this subject. Excuse
me, Dr Portman, for thus differing from you."
"Really," interposed Mr Oldfield, "I think you must allow the doctor to
be the best judge of the medical side of the question. What would you
say if the doctor on his part were to intrude on your province, and
question your statements of scriptural truth from the pulpit?"
"I should say," answered Mr Oliphant, "in the first place, that the two
cases are essentially different. My statements are drawn from an
inspired volume, from an express revelation; the opinions of medical men
are simply the deductions of human reason and observation, and are
therefore opinions which may be altered or modified. But, further, I
should say that I never require my people to receive my statements from
the pulpit without question or inquiry. I refer them always to the
revelation, the inspired record, and bid them search that record for
themselves. Now, if the doctor can point me to any inspired medical
record which lays down a particular system, and declares directly or by
fair inference against total abstinence, I will at once surrender my
present position; but as he will not pretend to possess any such
inspired medical volume, I must still feel myself at liberty to hold
different views from himself on the medical question."
"I am well aware, my dear sir," said Dr Portman, "that you and I shall
not agree on this subject, and, of course, I must allow you to be at
liberty to hold your own opinions; but it does seem to me, I must
confess, very strange that you should look upon total abstinence as
universally or generally desirable, when you must be aware that these
views are held by so very few of the medical profession, and have only
recently been adopted even by those few."
"I am afraid," said the rector, smiling, "that you are only entangling
yourself in further difficulties. Does the recent adoption of a new
course of treatment by a few prove that it ought not to be generally
adopted? What, then, do you say about the change in the treatment of
fever cases? I can myself remember the time when the patient was
treated on the lowering system, and when every breath of air was
excluded from the sick-room, doors and windows being listed lest the
slightest change should take place in the stifling atmosphere of the
bed-room. And now all is altered; we have the system supported by
nourishments, and abundance of fresh air let in. Indeed, it is most
amusing to see the change which has taken place as regards fresh air;
many of us sleep with our windows open, which would have been thought
certain death a few years ago. I know at this time a medical
practitioner, (who, by the way, is a total abstainer, and has never
given any of his patients alcoholic stimulants for the last five-and-
twenty years), who, at the age of between seventy and eighty, sleeps
with his window open, and is so hearty that, writing to me a few days
since, he says, `I sometimes think what shall I do when I get to be an
old man, being now only in my seventy-fourth year.' Now, were the
medical men wrong who began this change in the treatment of fever cases?
or, because they were few at first, ought they to have abandoned their
views, and still kept with the majority? Of course, those who adopt any
great change will at first be few, especially if that change sets very
strongly against persons' tastes or prejudices."
"I see that we must agree to differ," said Dr Portman, laughing, and
rising to take his leave.
When he was gone, Sir Thomas, who had listened very attentively to Mr
Oliphant's remarks, said,--
"I shall certainly put no hindrance in the way of Frank's becoming a
total abstainer if you can persuade him to it, and his health does not
suffer by it."
"Nor I," said Lady Oldfield; "only don't let him sign any pledge. I've
a great horror of those pledges. Surely, my dear Mr Oliphant, you
would not advise his signing a pledge."
"Indeed, I should advise it most strongly," was the reply; "both for his
own sake and also for the sake of others."
"But surely, to sign a pledge is to put things on a totally wrong
foundation," observed Mr John Oldfield; "would not you, as a minister
of the gospel, prefer that he should base his total abstinence on
Christian principle rather than trust to a pledge? Does not the pledge
usurp the place of divine grace?"
"Not at all," said the rector. "I would have him abstain on Christian
principles, as you say; and I would not have him _trust_ to the pledge,
but I would still have him use it as a support, though not as a
foundation. Perhaps an illustration will best explain my meaning. I
read some years ago of a fowler who was straying on the shore after sea-
birds. He was so engrossed with his sport that he utterly failed to
mark the rapid incoming of the tide, and when at last he did notice it,
he found to his dismay that he was completely cut off from the land.
There was but one chance of life, for he could not swim. A large
fragment of rock rose above the waves a few yards behind him; on to this
he clambered, and placing his gun between his feet, awaited the rising
of the water. In a short time the waves had risen nearly to his feet,
then they covered them; and still they rose as the tide came in higher
and higher, now round his ankles, next to his knees; and so they kept
gradually mounting, covering his body higher and higher. He could mark
their rise or fall by the brass buttons on his waistcoat; first one
button disappeared, then another, then a third, then a fourth. Would
the waves rise up to his mouth and choke him? His suspense was
dreadful. At last he observed that the topmost button did not disappear
so rapidly as the rest; the next wave, however, seemed quite to cover
it, but in a few minutes it became quite uncovered; in a little while
the button next below became visible, and now he was sure that the tide
was ebbing, and that he was safe if only he could hold out long enough.
At last the rock itself became visible, and after many hours he was
able, almost spent with fatigue, to stagger to the land. Now, what
saved that man? was it his gun? Surely not; it was the rock: _that_ was
his standing-ground. But was his gun, therefore, useless? Assuredly
not, for it helped to steady him on the rock, though it could not take
the place of the rock. Just so with the pledge; it is not the Christian
abstainer's standing-ground. Christ alone is that standing-ground. He
stands by the grace of Christ; but the pledge, like the gun, helps to
keep him steady on his standing-ground, the Rock of Ages."
"Well," said Mr Oldfield, "let us grant that there is some force in
your illustration. I would further ask how it can be that Frank's
taking the pledge would be a benefit to others as well as himself?"
"For the same reason that my own signing of the pledge is beneficial,"
replied the rector.
"Nay," interposed Sir Thomas; "would not your signing the pledge do
rather harm than good? Would it not rather weaken your own influence by
giving people reason to think, (those I mean especially who might not
know you well), that you had once been intemperate yourself, or that you
were unable to keep sober, or at any rate moderate, without the help of
the pledge."
"On the contrary," replied Mr Oliphant, "I look upon those who take the
pledge as greatly encouraging others who might be inclined to hang back.
It shows that the stronger are willing to fraternise with the weaker.
And this is specially the case when those who are known to have never
been entangled in the snares of drunkenness are willing to take the
pledge as an encouragement to those who have fallen. Perhaps you will
bear with me if I offer you another illustration. There is a great
chasm, a raging torrent at the bottom, and a single strong plank across
it. Now persons with steady heads can walk over the chasm without
difficulty, along the naked plank; but there are others who shudder at
the very thought, and dare not venture--their heads swim, their knees
tremble, as they approach the edge. What is to be done? Why, just put
a little light hand-rail from a post on either side, and let one who is
strong of head walk over, resting his hand on the rail; he does not need
the rail for himself but he uses it just to show how it may be a help,
and so the timid and the dizzy-headed follow and feel confidence, and
reach the other side in safety. Now, suppose the flood at the bottom of
that chasm to be intemperance, the plank total abstinence, and the rail
the pledge, and I think you will see that those who use the pledge,
though they really do not need it to steady themselves, may be a great
help to the weak, the timid, and the shrinking."
"I certainly," said Sir Thomas, "have never had the matter set before me
in this light. I shall think over our conversation; and as regards poor
Frank, at any rate, I feel sure that, if his health will bear it, total
abstinence will be the safest, if not the best thing for him."