MY TEMPERANCE PLEDGE.
The subject of Temperance, in its present associated forms, had, at this
time, just began to be agitated. At least, it had just begun to receive
attention in the newspapers which I was accustomed to see. It could not
be otherwise than that I should be deeply interested in its discussion.
I had been brought up, as I have before intimated, to a pretty free use
of cider and tea; but not of ardent spirits or coffee. Neither of these
was regularly used in my father's family; though both occasionally were.
But I had abandoned cider long before this time, because I found it had
a tendency to produce, or at least to aggravate, those eruptive diseases
to which I was greatly liable. Temperance, then, in the popular sense of
the term, was, to me, an easy virtue.
And yet as a temperance man--in the circle of my acquaintance--I stood
nearly alone. No individual around me was ready to take the ground I
occupied. Of this, however, I was not fully apprised, till a patient
attempt to recruit the temperance ranks convinced me of the fact. But I
will give you a full account of my enterprise, since it has a bearing on
my subsequent history and confessions.
With the aid of a Boston paper which I habitually read, I drew up the
customary preamble, declaration, and pledge of a temperance society. It
involved the great idea of total abstinence from spirituous liquors;
though by the term spirituous liquors, as used at that day, was meant
chiefly _distilled_ spirits. Having first affixed my own name to the
paper I went to the most influential of my patrons and friends and asked
them to sign it likewise. But, reader,--will you believe it?--not a
single subscriber could I obtain far, or near. They all, with one
consent, made excuse.
The elder deacon of the most evangelical church in the place where I
resided, had for his apology that he suffered seriously from a complaint
for which his physicians had prescribed the daily use of gin, "Now,"
said he, "though there is nothing in the pledge which goes to prohibit
the use of spirits in a case like my own, yet as some might think
otherwise and charge me with inconsistency, I must on the whole be
excused from signing it."
His son, who was also a deacon in the same church with the father,
excused himself by saying he was young, and without influence, and it
would be far better for the old people to put their names down first.
"Perhaps," said he, "I may conclude to sign the paper by-and-by. I will
consider well the matter, and if I conclude to sign it, I will let you
know."
Other leading men in the church as well as in the town affairs, refused
to sign the pledge, because Deacon H. and son would not. It belonged to
the deacons in the church, they said, to take the lead in all good
things, and not to them. When _they_ had put _their_ names to the
document, others would not long hesitate to follow.
In short nobody would consent to sign the paper, and it remains to this
day, just as it was when I drew it up; and it is now more than thirty
years old. There it is, with my name attached to it, as large as life. I
have been President, Vice President, Treasurer, Secretary, and "all
hands too," of my would-be Temperance Society, from that day to this. I
doubt whether many societies can be found which in thirty years have
made so little change as the one under consideration.
For about four years from the time of getting up the above-named
temperance society, strange as the assertion may seem, I retained the
right to use a little beer and a good deal of coffee. But in May, 1830,
I abandoned all drinks but water, to which custom I have ever since
adhered and in which I shall probably die.