well without spirits three quarters of the year; but that, in haying and
harvesting, he should want a little. But he had found that a dish of
bread and milk, or some other nourishing food, at 11 o'clock, answered
his purpose at all times just as well as grog, and he thought a little
better. And as he was now entirely free from the habit of taking
spirits, he would not on any account be placed in a situation where he
should be tempted to renew it.
* * * * *
Such were the feelings of men who had always been accustomed to the
practice of taking spirits, till they came into Mr. B----'s employment,
and who afterwards had not taken a drop. They had tried both sides, and
had found, by experience, that the practice of taking ardent spirits is
utterly useless; nay, that it is positively hurtful. It was their united
testimony, that they enjoyed better health, were more happy, could do
more work, and with less fatigue, than when they took spirits.
They said, to be sure, that they found it hard to do without it at
first. And so would a man who had been in the habit of taking laudanum,
or any poison, that was not fatal, but was stimulating and pleasant to
the taste, however destructive it might be in the end to his
constitution. But after they had freed themselves from the habit of
taking spirits, they found no inconvenience; but were in all respects
better than they were before. And they acknowledged that they were
exceedingly indebted to him, who, by his wise regulations, had been the
means of improving their condition. The following were some of the
advantages to _them_.
1. They had a better appetite, partook of their food with a keener
relish, and it was more nourishing to them than before.
2. They possessed much greater vigor and activity, both of body and
mind.
3. They performed the same labor with much greater ease; and were in a
great measure free from that lassitude and fatigue to which they were
before accustomed.
4. They had greater wages, and they laid up a much greater portion of
what they had. Before, numbers used to spend a great portion of their
wages in scenes of amusement and dissipation. Now, they have no
inclination to frequent such scenes. The consequence is, they lay up
more money. They are, also, more serious in their deportment, spend more
of their leisure time in useful reading, much oftener peruse the
Scriptures, and attend public worship; and they are more attentive to
all the means of grace. In a word, they are more likely to become useful
and happy in this life, and to be prepared for lasting blessedness in
the life to come.
5. Their example will be more likely to be useful to those around them;
and that for both worlds.
* * * * *
The following are some of the advantages to _their employer_.
1. The men, he says, in the course of the year, do more work, in a
better manner, and at a much less expense of tools.
2. He can now with much greater ease have a place for every thing, and
every thing in its place.
3. When a stone has fallen from the wall it is now laid up, as the men
are passing by, without his mentioning it. The gates are locked, and the
bars put up; so that the cattle do not, as before, get in and destroy
the crops.
4. His summer work is done in such season, that earth, loam, etc., is
carted into the yard in the fall, instead of being carted in in the
spring, as before. The consequence is, when carried out it is richer,
and renders the farm more productive.
5. His barns, in winter, are kept clean, and less fodder is wasted. The
cattle and horses are daily curried, and appear in better order.
6. When his men go into the forests, instead, as before, of cutting down
the nearest, thriftiest, and largest trees, they cut those that are
decayed, crooked, and not likely to grow any better; pick up those that
are blown down, and thus leave the forests in a better state.
7. The men are more uniform, still, and peaceable; are less trouble in
the house, and more contented with their manner of living.
8. At morning and evening prayer, they are more ready than before to
attend, and in season; appearing to esteem it not only a duty, but a
privilege and a pleasure to be present, and unite with the family in the
daily worship of God.
9. On the Sabbath, instead of wishing, as before, to stay at home, or to
spend the day in roving about the fields, rivers, and forests, they
choose statedly and punctually to attend public worship. In a word,
their whole deportment, both at home and abroad, is improved, and to a
greater extent than any, without witnessing it, can well imagine.
All these and many more advantages resulted from their abstaining
_entirely, and at all times_, from the use of ardent spirits.
* * * * *
Nor were the benefits confined to them and their employer. Some of his
_neighbors_, witnessing the complete success of his system, have
themselves adopted it. When Mr. B---- went into that part of the
country, many of the farmers in his neighborhood were in debt. Their
farms were mortgaged, some for $300, some for $500, and some for $1000,
or more. They complained much of _hard times_, especially for farmers.
Mr. B---- told them that so long as they continued to drink rum, they
must expect hard times; for it was no profit, but a great expense, and
in more ways than they imagined. They came to him to borrow money to
save their farms from attachment. But he told them, No. It will do men
who continue to drink rum no good to have money. Nay, it will be to them
an evil. The sooner their property is gone, and they have nothing with
which to buy rum, the better. For then they will do less mischief than
if they have money, and continue to drink rum. But, said he, if you will
leave off the use of spirits, and not take a drop for three months, I
will lend you money, and you may keep it, by paying the interest, as
long as you continue to take no ardent spirits. But when I learn that
you begin to take it, I shall call for the money. Some went away in
disgust. Others said, As Mr. B---- can do without rum, why cannot we?
and if we can, it will be a great saving of expense. They made the
experiment, and found that they could, without the least inconvenience,
do without it. After a few months, they made known to Mr. B---- the
result; and he helped them to as much money as they needed. They
continued to do without spirits, and they had none used by men in their
employment. Their business began to prosper, and their prospects to
brighten. Their debts are now paid, and their farms free from all
incumbrance. The times with them have altered, and they are now
thriving, respectable, and useful members of the community.
Others, who a few years ago were in no worse a condition than they, but
who continued the practice of drinking spirits, have lost their farms;
lost their reputation; lost their health, and eventually their lives;
and there is reason to fear, their souls. By the temperate but habitual
use of spirits, they formed an _intemperate appetite_. This at first was
occasionally, and then habitually indulged; and they were ruined for
both worlds. The evil may extend to their children, and children's
children.
But those who have entirely relinquished the use of spirits, until the
desire for it is removed, have experienced a wonderful transformation in
their feelings, their conduct, and their prospects. And the change is
visible not only in them, but their families, and all their concerns.
Their windows are not broken out as before; nor their gates and
garden-fences falling down. The kitchen does not smoke as it used to do,
because they keep it more _clean_, have drier and better wood, and lay
it on the fire in a better manner. The wife does not scold as she once
did, because she is well provided for, is treated kindly, and has
encouragement to labor. The children are not now in rags, but are
comfortably and decently clad; they are obedient, respectful, and
mannerly; and appear to be growing up in the nurture and admonition of
the Lord. In short, they appear almost like a new race of beings. And if
they should never again adopt the practice of taking ardent spirits,
there is vastly more reason than before, to hope that they will be led
by the word and Spirit of God to such a course of conduct as will
greatly increase their happiness and usefulness on earth, and be the
means of preparing them, through grace, for the everlasting joys of
heaven.
Should each individual in our country adopt the same course, the
following are some of the advantages which would result from it.
1. They would enjoy better health, be able to perform more labor, and
would live to a greater age.
2. The evils of intemperance would soon be done away: for all who are
now intemperate, and continue so, will soon be dead, and no others will
be found to succeed them.
3. There will be a saving every year of more than _thirty millions of
dollars_, which are now expended for ardent spirits. There will be a
saving of more than two-thirds of all the expense of supporting the
poor, which, in Massachusetts alone, would amount to more than $600,000
annually. And there would be a saving of all that idleness and
dissipation which intemperance occasions, and of the expense of more
than two-thirds of all the criminal prosecutions in the land. In one of
our large cities, in which there were one thousand prosecutions for
crimes, more than eight hundred of them were found to have sprung from
the use of ardent spirits.
4. There would be a saving of a vast portion of sickness; and of the
lives probably of thirty thousand persons every year.
Let these four considerations be added together, and traced in their
various bearings and consequences upon the temporal and eternal welfare
of men; and then let each individual say, whether, in view of all the
evils connected with the practice of taking ardent spirits, he can, in
the sight of God, be justified in continuing the practice. That it is
_not necessary_, has been fully proved. No one thinks it to be
necessary, except those who use it. And _they_ would not think so, if
they were not in the habit of using it. Let any man _leave off entirely_
the use of ardent spirits for only one year, and he will find by his own
experience that it is not necessary or useful. The fathers of New
England did not use it, nor did their children. They were never, as a
body, in the practice of taking it. And yet they enjoyed better health,
attained to a larger stature, and, with fewer comforts of life,
performed more labor, endured more fatigue, and lived, upon an average,
to a greater age than any generation of their descendants who have been
in the practice of taking spirits. As it was not necessary for the
fathers of New England, it is certain that it is not necessary for their
descendants, or for any portion of our inhabitants. Hundreds of healthy,
active, respectable, and useful men, who _now_ do not use it, can
testify that it is not necessary. And this will be the testimony of
every one who will only relinquish entirely the use of it.
It is by the temperate and habitual use of ardent spirits, that
_intemperate appetites_ are formed. And the temperate use of it cannot
be continued, without, in many cases, forming intemperate appetites; and
after they are formed, multitudes will be destroyed by their
gratification.
_Natural appetites_, such as are implanted in our constitution by the
Author of nature, _do not by their gratification increase in their
demands_. What satisfied them years ago, will satisfy them now. But
_artificial appetites_, which are formed by the wicked practices of
men, are _constantly increasing in their demands_. What satisfied them
once, will _not_ satisfy them now. And what satisfies them now, will not
satisfy them in future. They are constantly crying, "_Give, give._" And
there is not a man, who is in the habitual use of ardent spirits, who is
not in danger of dying a drunkard. Before he is aware, an intemperate
appetite may be formed, the gratification of which may prove his
temporal and eternal ruin. And if the practice should not come to this
result with regard to himself, it may with regard to his children, and
children's children. It may with regard to his neighbors, and their
children. It may extend its baleful influences far and wide; and
transmit them, with all their innumerable evils, from generation to
generation.
Can, then, _temperate, sober men be clear from guilt_, in continuing a
practice which is costing annually more than $30,000,000; increasing
more than threefold the poor-rates, and the crimes of the country;
undermining the health and constitution of its inhabitants; and cutting
of annually thirty thousand lives!
There is tremendous guilt somewhere. And it is a truth which ought to
press with overwhelming force upon the mind of every sober man, that a
portion of this guilt rests upon _every one_ who, with a knowledge of
facts, continues the _totally unnecessary and awfully pernicious
practice of taking ardent spirits_. Each individual ought, without
delay, in view of eternity, to clear himself, and neither by precept nor
example, ever again encourage or even connive at this deadly evil.
ADDRESS ON THE EFFECTS OF ARDENT SPIRITS.
BY JONATHAN KITTREDGE, ESQ.
[Illustration: Drunk man arriving home to impoverished family]
FELLOW-CITIZENS--That intemperance, in our country, is a great and
growing evil, all are ready to admit. When we look abroad, and examine
into the state of society, we find the number of those who are in the
constant and habitual practice of an excessive use of ardent spirits to
be alarming. We see the effects that they produce among our friends and
our neighbors, but the evil is so common, and it is so fashionable to
drink, and I had almost said, to drink to excess, that the sight of it
has lost half its terror, and we look upon an intemperate man without
those feelings of disgust and abhorrence which his real situation and
character are calculated to produce. This is the natural result of
things. The mind becomes familiar with the contemplation, the eye
accustomed to the sight; we pay but little attention to the object--he
passes on--we laugh at the exhibition, and grow callous and indifferent
to the guilt. Our pity is not excited, our hearts do not ache at the
scenes of intoxication that are almost daily exhibited around us. But if
for a moment we seriously reflect upon the real situation of the
habitually intemperate; if we call to mind what they have been--what
they now are; if we cast our eye to the future, and realize what, in a
few years, they will be; if we go further, and examine into the state of
their families, of their wives and their children, we shall discover a
scene of misery and wretchedness that will not long suffer us to remain
cold, and indifferent, and unfeeling.
This examination we can all make for ourselves. We can all call to mind
the case of some individual, whom we have known for years, perhaps from
his infancy, who is now a poor, miserable drunkard. In early life his
hopes and prospects were as fair as ours. His family was respectable,
and he received all those advantages which are necessary, and which were
calculated to make him a useful and respectable member of society.
Perhaps he was our school-fellow, and our boyhood may have been passed
in his company. We witnessed the first buddings of his mental powers,
and know that he possessed an active, enterprising mind. He grew up into
life with every prospect of usefulness. He entered into business, and,
for a while, did well. His parents looked to him for support in old age,
and he was capable of affording it. He accumulated property, and, in a
few years, with ordinary prudence and industry, would have been
independent. He married, and became the head of a family, and the father
of children, and all was prosperous and happy around him. Had he
continued as he began, he would now have been a comfort to his friends,
and an honor to the community. But the scene quickly changed. He grew
fond of ardent spirits. He was seen at the store and the tavern. By
degrees he became intemperate. He neglected his business, and his
affairs went to gradual decay. He is now a drunkard, his property is
wasted, his parents have died of broken hearts, his wife is pale and
emaciated, his children ragged, and squalid, and ignorant. He is the
tenant of some little cabin that poverty has erected to house him from
the storm and the tempest. He is useless, and worse than useless: he is
a pest to all around him. All the feelings of his nature are blunted; he
has lost all shame; he procures his accustomed supply of the poison that
consumes him; he staggers through mud and through filth to his hut; he
meets a weeping wife and starving children; he abuses them, he tumbles
into his straw, and he rolls and foams like a mad brute, till he is able
to go again. He calls for more rum--he repeats the scene from time to
time, and from day to day, till soon his nature faints, and he becomes
sober in death.
Let us reflect, that this guilty, wretched creature had an immortal
mind--he was like us, of the same flesh and blood--he was our brother,
destined to the same eternity, created by, and accountable to, the same
God; and will, at last, stand at the same judgment-bar; and who, amid
such reflections, will not weep at his fate--whose eye can remain dry,
and whose heart unmoved?
This is no picture of the imagination. It is a common and sober reality.
It is what we see almost every day of our lives; and we live in the
midst of such scenes and such events. With the addition or subtraction
of a few circumstances, it is the case of every one of the common
drunkards around us. They have not completed the drama--they are
alive--but they are going to death with rapid strides, as their
predecessors have already gone. Another company of immortal minds are
coming on to fill their places, as they have filled others. The number
is kept good, and increasing. Shops, as nurseries, are established in
every town and neighborhood, and drunkards are raised up by the score.
They are made--they are formed--for no man was ever born a
drunkard--and, I may say, no man was ever born with a taste for ardent
spirits. They are not the food which nature has provided. The infant may
cry for its mother's milk, and for nourishing food, but none was ever
heard to cry for ardent spirits. The taste is created, and in some
instances may be created so young, that, perhaps, many cannot remember
the time when they were not fond of them.
And here permit me to make a few remarks upon the _formation, or
creation of this taste_. I will begin with the infant, and I may say
that he is born into rum. At his birth, according to custom, a quantity
of ardent spirits is provided; they are thought to be as necessary as
any thing else. They are considered as indispensable as if the child
could not be born without them. The father treats his friends and his
household, and the mother partakes with the rest. The infant is fed with
them, as if he could not know the good things he is heir to without a
taste of ardent spirits. They are kept on hand, and often given to him
as medicine, especially where the parents are fond of them themselves.
By this practice, even in the cradle, his disrelish for ardent spirits
is done away. He grows up, and during the first months or years of his
existence, his taste and his appetite are formed. As he runs about, and
begins to take notice of passing events, he sees his father and friends
drink; he partakes, and grows fond of them. In most families, ardent
spirits are introduced and used on every extraordinary occasion. Without
mentioning many, that the knowledge and experience of every man can
supply, I will instance only the case of visitors.
A gentleman's friends and acquaintance call on him. He is glad to see
them, and fashion and custom make it necessary for him to invite them to
the sideboard. This is all done in his best style, in his most easy and
affable manner. The best set of drinking-vessels are brought forward,
and make quite a display. The children of the family notice this; they
are delighted with the sight and the exhibition; they are pleased with
the manners, and gratified with the conversation of the visitors on the
occasion. As soon as they go abroad, they associate the idea of drinking
with all that is manly and genteel. They fall into the custom, and
imitate the example that is set them. Circumstances and situations
expose one to more temptations than the rest. Perhaps his resolution, or
his moral principle, is not so strong; and in this way, one out of
twenty-five of those who live to thirty years of age becomes
intemperate. He becomes so, perhaps not from any uncommon predisposition
to the vice, but is at first led on by fashion, and custom, and
favorable circumstances, till at last he plunges headlong into the
vortex of dissipation and ruin. Our natural disrelish for ardent spirits
is first done away--a relish for them is then created. They next become
occasional, next habitual drinks. The habit gains strength, till, at
last, the daily drinker is swept away by the first adverse gale.
It is on this principle, and let the fact operate as a caution to those
who need it, that many men of fair unblemished characters, who have made
a temperate, but habitual use of ardent spirits in days of prosperity,
have, on a change of fortune, become notorious drunkards; while those
who have refrained in prosperity, have encountered all the storms of
adversity unhurt. We frequently hear a man's intemperance attributed to
a particular cause, as loss of friends, loss of property, disappointed
love, or ambition; when, if the truth were known, it would be seen that
such men had previously been addicted to the use of ardent spirits,
perhaps not immoderately, and fly to them on such events as their solace
and support. Intemperance requires an apprenticeship, as much as law or
physic; and a man can no more become intemperate in a month, than he can
become a lawyer or a physician in a month. Many wonder that certain
intemperate men, of fine talents, noble hearts, and manly feelings, do
not reform; but it is a greater wonder that any ever do. The evil genius
of intemperance gradually preys upon the strength of both body and mind,
till the victim, when he is caught, finds, that although he was a giant
once, he is now a child. Its influence is seductive and insinuating, and
men are often irretrievably lost before they are aware of it. Let them
beware how they take the first step. It is by degrees that men become
intemperate. No man ever became so all at once--it is an impossibility
in the nature of things. It requires time to harden the heart, to do
away shame, to blunt the moral principle, to deaden the intellectual
faculties, and temper the body. The intemperance of the day is the
natural and legitimate consequence of the customs of society--of genteel
and respectable society. It is the common and ordinary use of ardent
spirits, as practised in our towns and villages, that has already
peopled them with drunkards, and which, unless checked, will fill them
with drunkards. The degree of intemperance that prevails, and the
quantity of ardent spirits used, in our most respectable towns, is
almost incredible. Perhaps some facts on this subject will be
interesting.
As it regards _the degree of intemperance that prevails_, it may be
safely said, that one out of a hundred of the inhabitants of this part
of the country is a common drunkard. By a common drunkard is meant one
who is habitually intemperate, who is often intoxicated, and who is
restrained from intoxication neither by principle nor shame. Of such
there are from ten to twenty, and upward, in every inhabited township.
There is another class who are intemperate, and many of them are
occasional drunkards. This class is more numerous than the former, and
one out of about forty of the inhabitants belongs to one or the other
class. Is not this a horrid state of society? But any one can satisfy
himself of the truth of the statement, by making the examination
himself.