dollar bank-notes, end to end, would reach _across the Atlantic_. Or, if
in silver dollars piled one upon the other, would form a column nearly
_thirty miles_ high; and which it would occupy a man twelve hours in
each day, for almost two years, to enumerate, allowing him to count one
every second. Or to suppose a useful application of this fund, it would
support annually from _two to three hundred thousand young men_ in
preparing for the Gospel ministry. In three years it is a sum more than
equal to the supply of a _Bible to every family on the habitable
globe_. One-half the amount would defray all the ordinary expenses
incident to the carrying on of our nation's governmental operations
every year. Thus I might multiply object upon object, which this vast
sum is adequate to accomplish, and carry the mind from comparison to
comparison in estimating its immense amount; still the cost, thus
considered as involving the _pecuniary_ resources of the country, is a
mere _item_ of the aggregate, when the loss of time, waste of
providential bounty, neglect of business, etc., incident to the
consumption of this one article, are thrown into the account.
A SECOND REASON why its use should be condemned is, the _entire
inadequacy of any property it possesses to impart the least benefit_,
either nutrient, or in any other way substantially to the consumer, to
say nothing just now of its never-failing injurious effects. _Alcohol_
consists chemically in a state of purity of carbon, oxygen, and
hydrogen; in the proportions of carbon about 52 parts, oxygen 34, and
hydrogen 14 to the 100. The addition of water forms the various proof
spirits. It can be generated in no way but by _fermentation_: no skill
of art has yet been able to combine the above elements in such
proportions, or relations, as to produce alcohol, except by heat and
moisture inciting fermentation in vegetable substances. But it should be
understood, that vegetables may undergo a certain degree of fermentation
without producing alcohol; or, if suffered to produce it, another stage
of fermentation will radically destroy it, and produce an acid. Thus,
any of the vegetable substances, as corn or rye, subjected to a certain
degree of heat and moisture, will soon suffer a decomposition, and a
development of sugar, to a greater or less degree, will take place. If
removed now from circumstances favorable to its farther fermentation, as
is the case with dough for bread, etc., no appreciable quantity of
alcohol is created. A _further_ degree of fermentation, however, is
generative of alcohol, and if arrested here, the alcohol maintains its
decided character; while still another stage presents the acetous state,
and the alcoholic property is lost in vinegar. As in our opinion,
success to the temperance cause depends much upon a right understanding
of _what alcohol is_, and the manner of its production, a more simple
illustration may not be inappropriate here.
A farmer takes a quantity of apples to the mill in order to convert them
into cider. He grinds, then lays them up into a cheese, when pressure is
applied, and the juice runs into a vat placed to receive it. Here, at
this stage of the business, there is no alcohol in the juice. It is now
put into casks, and the sweet or sugar stage of fermentation, which is
already begun, soon passes into the vinous or _alcoholic_ stage, as it
is called, and _alcohol_ is formed. The prudent farmer, at this point,
when the juice is done _working_, or fermenting, immediately bungs his
casks, and does such other things as his skill and experience may
suggest, to prevent his cider becoming sour, which it will do if the
third stage of fermentation is permitted to succeed. Here, then, he has
_perfect alcohol_, though in small proportions; as perfect as it is in
brandy, gin, rum, and whiskey. The same results ensue from subjecting
corn, rye, barley, etc., to such processes as is customary to prepare
them for distillation, namely, to such a degree of fermentation as that
alcohol is formed. And when the alcohol is formed by fermentation, then
it is drawn off, by distilling, from its union with the other materials
in the fermented mass. Alcohol, then, is strictly _the product of
fermentation_. It is not, and cannot be produced in any other way. To
distil, therefore, is only to lead it off from its union with the
vegetable mass, and show it naked with all its virulence.
Having considered the manner in which alcohol is formed, let us examine
some of its _properties_. It contains nothing that can afford any
nourishment to the body, and consequently it can impart no strength.
When taken in certain quantities, diluted with water, as it must be for
common use, its effect is, to arouse the energies of the system, and for
a while the individual _feels_ stronger; but this excitement is always
followed by depression and loss of animal and mental vigor. Thus it is
a mere provocative to momentary personal effort, without affording any
resources to direct or execute. Hence the fallacy of that doctrine held
by some, that to accomplish deeds of daring, feats of muscular strength,
etc., with success, demands the drinking of spirituous liquors. Were I
about to storm an enemy's battery, with no alternative before me but
victory or death, I might, principle aside, infuriate my men with the
maddening influence of ardent spirit, and let them loose upon the
charge, as I would a wounded elephant, or an enraged tiger. But in
attaining an object to which the combined energies of mind and body were
requisite, I should never think of the appropriateness of spirituous
liquor to aid the effort.
But an objector says, "I certainly _feel stronger_ upon drinking a glass
of spirit and water, and can do more work than I can without it. I can
swing a scythe with more nerve, or pitch a load of hay in less time; and
feel a general invigoration of my body during the heat of a summer's
day, after having drank a quantity of grog. How is this?" We reply,
doubtless you _feel_ for the moment all that you describe; but your
_feeling strength_ thus suddenly excited, is far from being proof that
you are _really_ any stronger. The opposite is the fact; which we infer
from the inadequacy of any substance, be it ever so nutritious, to
impart strength so suddenly, as it would _seem_ ardent spirit did when
drank; for there has not been sufficient time for digestion, through
which process only can any substantial nourishment be derived to the
body. The _apparent_ strength which an individual feels upon drinking
ardent spirit, is the same in kind, though not in degree, with that
which a man feels who has lain sick with a fever fifteen or twenty days,
during which time he has taken little food, and been subjected to the
weakening influence of medicines; but who on a sudden manifests great
strength, striving to rise from his bed, etc., and in his delirious
efforts must be restrained perhaps by force. Now no man in his senses
will call this any _real_ increase of strength in the sick man, who has
been starving thus long; but only a rallying of the powers of life under
the stimulus of disease, which is always followed by extreme languor and
debility, if not by death. So it is with the individual under the
influence of ardent spirit: he _feels_ the powers of his body excited
from the stimulus of the spirit; yet, as we think must be clear to the
apprehension of any one, without any addition of _actual_ strength.
Again, alcohol is not only innutritious, but is _poisonous_. Taken into
the stomach in an undiluted and _concentrated_ state, in quantities of
two or three teaspoonfulls, it destroys life, as clearly shown in
Accum's experiments. Combined with different proportions of water,
sugar, etc., it is modified in its effects. Most of the vegetable and
mineral poisons may be so diluted and modified as to be capable of
application to the bodies of men internally, without producing immediate
fatal consequences; which, nevertheless, cannot be used any length of
time, even thus disarmed, without producing pernicious effects. So it is
with alcohol: like other poisons, it cannot be used any length of time,
even diluted and modified, without proving pernicious to health, and if
persevered in, in considerable quantities, inevitably destructive to
life. This last sentiment, however, we will consider more particularly
under the
THIRD REASON for the disuse of alcohol: It _destroys both body and
soul_. It is estimated that _thirty or forty thousand_ died annually in
the United States from the intemperate use of ardent spirit before the
Temperance reformation began. Thirty or forty thousand! a sacrifice
seldom matched by war or pestilence. The blood which flowed from the
veins of our martyred countrymen, in the cause of freedom, never reached
this annual sacrifice. And the pestilential _cholera_, ruthless as it
is, which has marked its desolating track through many of our towns and
cities, numbers not an amount of victims like this plague, much as its
virulence has been enhanced by ardent spirit. The destructive influence
of immoderate drinking upon the bodily powers of men, is painfully
apparent, sometimes long before the fatal catastrophe. The face, the
speech, the eyes, the walk, the sleep, the breath, all proclaim the
drying up of the springs of life. And although abused nature will often
struggle, and struggle, and struggle, to maintain the balance of her
powers, and restore her wasted energies, she is compelled to yield at
length to suicidal violence.
The effect of the habitual use of ardent spirit upon the health, is much
greater than is generally supposed. An individual who is in the habit of
drinking spirits daily, although he may not fall under the character of
a drunkard, is undermining his constitution gradually, but certainly; as
a noble building, standing by the side of a small, unnoticed rivulet,
whose current steals along under its foundation, and carries away from
its support sand after sand, has its security certainly though
imperceptibly impaired, and finally falls into utter ruin. A large
proportion of the inmates of our madhouses are the victims of ardent
spirit. Our hospitals and poor-houses speak volumes of the ruin that
awaits the bodily powers of those who indulge in even moderate tippling.
It exposes the system to much greater ravages when disease attacks it.
The powers of nature are weakened, and less able to resist disease; and
medicines will never act so promptly and kindly upon those who are
accustomed to strong drink as upon those who are not.
But where is the _soul_, the disembodied spirit of a deceased drunkard?
"No drunkard shall inherit the kingdom of God," is the plain declaration
of sacred writ; and were there no such scriptural denunciation of the
wretched inebriate, the very nature of his case would render his
prospect dark and dismal. In the intervals of his cups, when his animal
powers are not goaded by artificial excitement, his distressed spirit
partakes of the horrible collapse of its polluted tenement, and can
contemplate no motive, however weighty, nor entertain any other thought,
be it ever so interesting, than how to relieve its present wretchedness.
When, then, can the unhappy man find peace with God amid this tumult of
his unbalanced faculties, this perturbation of his unholy passions? How
utterly unfitted to perform those duties which are requisite to secure a
blessed immortality?
Our FOURTH REASON for the disuse of alcoholic liquors is, that _any
thing short of entire abstinence exposes to all the dread consequences
just named_. Here is the grand hope of our cause. TOTAL ABSTINENCE
defies all danger and mocks at consequences. With it, we are safe;
without it, in peril.
No man was ever _born_ a drunkard; nor are we born with a natural taste
or thirst for alcoholic drinks, any more than we are born with an
appetite for aloes, assafoetida, or any other drug or medicine. And
the child when first taught to take it, is induced to do so only by
sweetening it, and thus rendering it palatable, as is the case with
other medicines. Neither is it, at any time, the taste or flavor of
alcohol, exclusively, that presents such charms for the use of it; but
in the effect upon the _stomach and nerves_ lie all the magic and
witchery of this destructive agent. In proof of this, watch the
trembling victim of strong drink while he pours down his morning or
mid-day dram, and see him retch and strangle like a sickened child at a
nauseous medicine. Ask him, too, and he will confess it is not the taste
for which he drinks. Intemperate drinking is ever the result of what has
been misnamed _temperate drinking_. "Taking a little" when we are too
cold, or too hot, or wet, or fatigued, or low-spirited, or have a pain
in the stomach, or to keep off fevers, or from politeness to a friend,
or not to appear singular in company, etc., etc., or as is sometimes
churlishly said, "when we have a mind to."
And here I shall step aside a little from the main argument, and attempt
to _explain_ the _effects_ which _temperate drinking_ has upon the
animal system; and how it leads to ruinous drunkenness, BY A LAW OF OUR
NATURES, certain and invariable. The nervous system, as I have said, is
that department of our bodies which suffers most from stimulants and
narcotics. Although the circulation of the blood is increased, and all
the animal spirits roused by alcoholic drink; still, the nerves are the
organs that must finally bear the brunt and evil of this undue
excitement. Thus we see in the man who has been overexcited by these
stimulants, a trembling hand, an infirm step, and impaired mental vigor.
The _excitability_ of our system--and by this term we mean that property
of our natures which distinguishes all living from dead matter--is acted
upon by stimuli, either external or internal; and it is by various
stimuli, applied properly, and in due proportion, that the various
functions of life are kept up. Thus a proper portion of food, and drink,
and heat, and exercise, serves to maintain that balance of action among
all the organs, which secures health to the individual. But if an agent
is applied to the system, exerting stimulant powers exceeding those that
are necessary for carrying on the vital functions steadily, an
excitement ensues which is always followed by a corresponding collapse.
This principle is clearly illustrated by the stimulus of alcohol. If a
person unaccustomed to its use receives into his stomach a given
quantity of distilled spirits, it will soon produce symptoms of
universal excitement. The pulse increases in frequency; the action of
all the animal functions is quickened; and even the soul, partaking of
the impulse of its fleshly tabernacle, is unduly aroused. But this is of
short duration, and a sinking, or collapse, proportioned to the
excitement, soon takes place, with a derangement, more or less, of all
the organs of the body. The stimulus repeated, the same effect ensues.
We must, however, notice that the same quantity of any unnatural
stimulus, such as opium, spirit, etc., frequently repeated, fails to
produce its specific effect. Hence, in order to secure the same effect,
it is necessary to increase its quantity. Thus, to a person indulging in
the frequent or stated practice of drinking, before he is aware, the
repetition becomes pleasant. As the accustomed hour returns for his
dram, he regularly remembers it; again and again he drinks; the desire
increases; he makes himself believe it is necessary from the very fact
that he desires it; the principle, or law, of which we have been
speaking, developes itself; an increased quantity becomes necessary to
insure a feeling of gratification; more, and still more becomes
necessary, and oftener repeated, until without it he is miserable; his
overexcited system is wretched, soul and body, without _the constant
strain_ which the stimulus affords.
Here is a solution of the fact that has astonished thousands; how the
unhappy drunkard, with all the certain consequences of his course
staring him in the face, and amid the entreaties and arguments of
distressed friends, and the solemn denunciations of holy writ sounding
in his ears, and the sure prospect of an untimely grave, will still
press on, and hold the destroyer still firmer to his lips. It is because
nature shrieks at every pore, if I may be allowed the expression. Every
nerve, every vein, every fibre pines, and groans, and aches for its
accustomed stimulus. No substitute will do; no ransom can purchase
relief; insatiate as the grave, every fibre cries, Give, give! The
dictates of reason are drowned in the clamor of the senses. Thus the
_temperate drinker, by persisting in the practice_, throws himself
within the influence of _a law of his system_, of which he can no more
control the development, nor resist the urgency, than he can that law
which circulates the blood through his heart, or any other law peculiar
to animal life. That law is the LAW OF STIMULATION, which is never
unduly aroused, except by sinful indulgences; but when aroused, is
dreadfully urgent. We will state a case strikingly exemplifying the
influence of this law.
A gentleman, an acquaintance and friend of the writer, contracted the
habit of drinking during his college course. He settled in the practice
of the law in one of the villages of his native state. He soon became
invested with offices of honor and profit, and although young, gave
promise of shining brilliantly in the profession he had chosen. He was
the pride of a large and respectable family, who witnessed his growing
prospects with that satisfaction and delight which the prosperity of a
beloved son and brother cannot fail to impart. In the midst of these
circumstances the physician was one day called in haste to see him. He
had fallen into a fit. His manly form lay stretched upon the carpet,
while his features were distorted and purpled from the agony of the
convulsions. After some days, however, he recovered, without having
sustained any permanent injury. Being in company with his physician
alone, soon after, he said to him, "I suspect, sir, you do not know the
cause of my fit; and as I may have a return of it, when you will
probably be called, I think it proper that you should be made acquainted
with my habits of life." He then informed his physician, that for a
number of years previous he had been in the daily use of ardent spirit,
that the practice had grown upon him ever since he left college, and
that he was conscious it injured him. However, it was not known even to
his own family what quantity he used. His physician did not hesitate to
inform him of the extreme danger to his life in persisting in the use of
intoxicating drinks. He acknowledged his perfect conviction of the truth
of all that was said, and resolved to abandon his wicked course.
Not many weeks after, he was seized with another fit; but owing to the
absence of the family physician, he did not see him until some time
after he had come out of it. The physician, however, who attended,
informed him it was violent. After repeated assurances of his increasing
danger, and the remonstrances of friends, who had now begun to learn the
real cause of his fits, he renewed his promises and determination to
reform, and entered upon a course of total abstinence, which he
maintained for several months, and inspired many of his friends with
pleasing hopes of his entire reform and the reestablishment of his
health. But, alas, in an unguarded moment, he dared to taste again the
forbidden cup, and with this fled all his resolutions and restraints.
From that time he drank more openly and freely. His fits returned with
painful violence; friends remonstrated, entreated, pleaded, but all in
vain. He thus continued his course of intemperance, with intervals of
fits and sickness, about eight or ten months, and at length died
_drunk_ in his bed, where he had lain for two or three weeks in a
continual state of intoxication.
The writer has stated this case in detail, to show the influence of _the
law of stimulation_, or what in popular language is termed, "the
appetite for spirituous liquors," when once it is awakened.
Here we have the instance of an individual, of a fine and cultivated
intellect, with every thing on earth to render him happy, that could be
comprised in wealth, friends, honor, and bright prospects. Ay, indeed,
too, he professed an interest in the blood of the Saviour, and had
communed with Christians at his table; surrounded by those whom he
tenderly loved, the wife of his bosom, and the dear pledges of her
devotion. Yet, in spite of all these considerations, and the most
sensible conviction of his fatal career, he continued to drink, and thus
pressed downward to the gate of death and hell.
Now what was this? What giant's arm dragged this fair victim to an
untimely grave? Was it for the want of motives and obligations to pursue
an opposite course? No. Was it for the want of intellect and talents to
appreciate those obligations? No. Was it trouble, arising from
disappointed hopes and blasted prospects? Certainly, by those who knew
him best, he was accounted a man who might have been happy. What was it,
then, that urged this individual, with his eyes open upon the
consequences, and in the face of every thing most dear, thus to
sacrifice his _all_ upon the altar of intemperance? It _was that law_ of
which we have spoken, enkindled into action by his tippling, and which
once developed, he could no more control, _while persisting in his
pernicious practice of drinking_, than he could have hurled the Andes
from their base, or have plucked the moon from her orbit.
We say, then, that all persons who drink ardent spirit habitually, bring
themselves inevitably under the influence of a law _peculiar to their
natures_, which leads on to ruin. Instances may indeed have occurred,
in which individuals have used ardent spirit daily for a long course of
years, and yet died without becoming drunkards; but it only proves that
these have been constitutions that could _resist_ the _speedy
development_ of the law in question. Where one individual is found with
a constitution vigorous enough to resist the development of this law
through a life of habitual drinking, thousands go down to a drunkard's
grave, and a drunkard's retribution, from only a few years' indulgence.
We have thus briefly shown the _immense cost_ of the use of alcoholic
liquors. We have shown that they contain _no property that can impart
substantial strength or nourishment_ to the body; and that they are
actually a POISON. We have shown that they _destroy_ both _body_ and
_soul_; clouding the view of truth, and resisting the influences of the
Holy Spirit. "No drunkard shall inherit the kingdom of God." We have
shown that the _temperate use_ of these liquors tends inevitably to the
_intemperate use_; since those who drink them habitually, throw
themselves within the influence of a _law of their natures_, which leads
on directly to ruin.
In view of such considerations and such facts, who is so degraded, so
enslaved to appetite, or the love of gain, that he will not lend his aid
to the TEMPERANCE REFORM? Who will indulge in what he calls the
temperate use, flattering himself that he can control his appetite, when
thousands, who have boasted of _self-control_, have found themselves,
ere they were aware, within the coil of a serpent whose touch is poison,
and whose sting is death? O, who that regards his neighbor, his family,
his own reputation, or his own soul, will in this day of light be found
dallying with that which affords at best only _sensual_ pleasure, and
which _at the last biteth like a serpent, and stingeth like an adder_?
DEBATES OF CONSCIENCE WITH
A DISTILLER, A WHOLESALE DEALER,
AND A RETAILER.
BY HEMAN HUMPHREY, D. D. PRESIDENT OF AMHERST COLLEGE.
DIALOGUE I.
AT THE DISTILLERY.--FIRST INTERVIEW.
DISTILLER. Good morning, Mr. Conscience; though I know you to be one of
the earliest risers, especially of late, I hardly expected to meet you
here at day-dawn.
CONSCIENCE. I am none too early, it seems, to find you at your vocation.
But how are you going to dispose of this great black building?
DISTILLER. Why, I do not understand you.
CONSCIENCE. What are you doing with these boiling craters, and that
hideous worm there?
DISTILLER. Pray explain yourself.