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A
PLEA
FOR
THE   INTEMPERATE.
BY
       DAVID  M. REESE, A.M., M.D.

LATE PROFESSOR OF THE THEORY AND  PRACTICE OF
     PHYSIC IN THE ALBANY MEDICAL COLLEGE.
          /XS/JZ6~



            NEW YORK:

      JOHN S. TAYLOR  & CO.
BRICK CII'RCH CHAPEL, 145 NASSAU STREET,
         Opposite the Tract House.

               1841. 

   Entered aceording to Act of Congress, in the year 1841, by
                   DAVID  M.  REESE,
in the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the Southern District
                      of New  York.
S. W. Benedict Printer,  128 Fulton Street. 
                     TO
           WILLIAM K. MITCHELL, ESQ.,
              PRESIDENT OF THE
 WASHINGTON TEMPERANCE SOCIETY, OF BALTIMORE,
                  AND TO
         THE NOBLE BAND OF BROTHERS
WHO HAVE RALLTED UNDER  THE BANNER OF THAT
   society; AND TO ALL THEIR KINDRED SPIRITS,
          THESE PAGES ARE INSCRIBED,
             AS A HUMBLE TRIBUTE
              OF THE AFFECTION
               AND RESPECT OF
THE AUTHOR. 
 
PREFACE.
|  The paramount motive which has prompt-
ed this publication, is to furnish the benevo-
lent with a " Tract for the times," which they
may read and circulate among a class of our
fellow men, who have been inaccessible by
the ordinary issues from the press, because of
the abrupt and unceremonious  title  of  most
Temperance publications.
  In  approaching the intemperate, with the
design of reforming them, experience  has
demonstrated that  our well-meant endeavors
Avill often meet no other response than " the
attraction  of tepulsion."   This may be ac-
counted for, by the fact that their prejudices
are awakened by the manner of our approach.
Our first effort, therefore, in order to success,
             1* 
VI               PREFACE
should be to disarm this prejudice; and we
should bespeak their attention, and enlist their
confidence, by manifesting that fellow-feeling
and commiseration which are the most attrac-
tive attributes of our common nature.
  If we would gain the ears and the hearts
of our fellow men, we must not treat them as
our inferiors, but as our  equals,  else their
manhood  will be arrayed  against  us.  Infe-
rior they  may be,  in station, character, and
virtue, and this inferiority may be evident
even to themselves; yet there is found in every
man,  a native  pride, an innate self-esteem,
which is an immortal instinct  of his nature.
Ho\vever fallen  into guilt,  polluted by crime,
or conscious of evil  desert, this instinct re-
mains, and revolts against any upbraiding re-
cognition of his  inferiority, by those to whom
he still sustains the  kindred relation of a com-
mon manhood.
  To approach an intemperate man, therefore,
we must  not only feel that he is a man, but 
PREFACE.
VU
we must show that we regard him  as a fel-
low-man, on a perfect equality with ourselves,
so far as the  ties of a common nature confer
equality.  Hence we must pity as well as
blame,  commiserate while we censure,  else
Ave can never gain either the ear or the heart
of those who have fallen into the  snare of
intemperance.
   In this volume an attempt is made, on the
very title-page, to  attract the attention and
awaken the  sensibilities of all classes of the
intemperate, by recording " a plea " in their
behalf.  And this plea is designed to inspire
hope in their oavti case, as well as to encou-
rage confidence in others, that all the victims
of intemperance may be rescued.   Hence its
circulation is intended to be adapted to  both
these benevolent ends;  and it is affectionately
commended  both  to the intemperate and  to
their friends, but especially to their kindred.
They who read this little book, and admit the
force and justice of our plea, will be prompted 
Viii              PREFACE.
to hand it over to their intemperate relatives
or neighbors, and secure the reading  of its
pages, as preliminary to the other offices of
benevolence for which we plead.
  But the argument of our plea is designed
likeAvise to adapt itself to all who are in dan-
ger of falling  into intemperance, before they
have as yet become its victims.  It may serve
as  a  salutary admonition to such, if kindly
placed in their hands, vrithout wounding their
delicacy or self-respect, as we are liable to do
by  open  reproof.  And in this aspect it is
hoped that the rising generation may be coun-
selled, while yet they have escaped the  snare.
  If this little volume shall be successful in
multiplying friends for the intemperate; in in-
spiring hope, and prompting efforts for the
recovery of such; and at the same time aid
in preserving the young  from falling victims
to this Destroyer, it will not have been pub-
lished in vain. 
PLEA FOR THE INTEMPERATE.
  To extend our sympathies and commisera-
tion to the misfortunes of our fellow-men, and
to compassionate the miseries of the human
race, even when self-inflicted by imprudence
or crime, is  surely  the dictate of genuine
philanthropy.  The more wretched, and even
the more unworthy, the unhappy beings who
are the victims of calamity and suffering, the
higher claim  they have upon our pity, and
the  stronger is their plea for mercy, both
from God and man.   The great model of per-
fection,  the Divine Author of the hallowed
system of Christianity, has furnished us with
an example and illustration, in the fact, that
during his incarnation, he not only " went
about doing good,"  but bestowed  his kind 
10
A PLEA FOR
offices upon the most miserable, the most de-
praved, and  the  most guilty, even upon  a
"notorious sinner."   Hence  "the  chief of
sinners " became " the chiefest of the apos-
tles," and kindness to the unthankful, com-
passion for the depraved  and the guilty,  and
mercy even towards the vilest of  the Aile,
are the practical lesssons taught by our great
exemplar,  " God manifest in  the flesh," who
" came not to call the righteous, but sinners
to repentance."
  Christian philanthropy, being formed after
this model, will constrain all  who have been
" taught in the school of Christ," to admit
these sentiments  into their  creed,  however
imperfectly they may exhibit them in prac-
tice.  Indeed philosophy,  enlightened as it
has now become, by the borrowed rays it has
received from the " Sun of Righteousness,"
inculcates a similar code of benevolence, as a
sequence  flowing  from the relations  of  our
common nature; and recognizes every  hu-
man being, however  fallen or  degraded by
vice, as still  included in the brotherhood of
the universal family, created and continued in
being by the beneficence of one common  Fa- 
THE INTEMPERATE.
11
 ther of us all.   Hence the abstract sentiment
 of pure universal benevolence, is sustained by
 the teachings of both religion and philosophy,
 and the disciples of both are bound  by the
 highest sanctions of their respective systems,
 to acknowledge every man  a  brother, and
 treat him  accordingly, however he may be
 depressed  by  adverse circumstances,  over-
 whelmed by misfortunes, or even stained with
 crime.
   But while such philanthropy is  retained
 and professed in the public creed, there is un-
 happily one class of our fellow-men, in rela-
 tion  to whom  the fountains of benevolence
 have become  sealed,  and from whom the
 sympathies of our common nature are with-
 held.   For while all the attributes of man-
 hood are found to be combined  for the relief
 and rescue of even guiltier men, and similar
 beneficent  efforts are put forth  in behalf of
 " brutes that perish;" the wretched victims of
 Intemperance are regarded as outcasts from
 these  kind offices,  and treated  as  outlaws
 from the sympathies of humanity.  A man
 may be guilty  of fraudulent  insolvency, or
defalcation in public office, and escaping the 
12             A PLEA FOR
law by a quibble, he may laugh his creditors
to scorn, while rolling in wealth and luxury
upon  his ill-gotten  gains.  He may possess
himself of plunder from  helpless Avidows and
orphans  by extortion  and  dishonesty, and
thus grinding  the faces  of the  poor, may
abound  in  the  fruits of his robberies.   He
may even  enter  the domestic  circle  of  his
neighbor, or his friend, and destroy the peace
of a happy family, by making the  wife and
mother the victim of his  arts, or he may crush
that  mother's soul, by robbing  her  of  a
daughter, whose youth and loveliness have
prompted his unhallowed passion, until inno-
cence and beauty have become his prey.  Or
he  may call out into the  " field of honor,"
the  husband or  the brother, whom he  has
thus  wronged, and stung  to  madness; and
consummate his  deed of infamy, by murder-
ing his victim, and fleeing from justice.  Aye,
he  may do all  this, and more, " enough to
make the  cheek of darkness pale  j" and  if
his wealth has given impunity to his crimes,
they may all be known, and yet if he escape
 a felon's  fate,  and seem  a  gentleman,  no
" mark of Cain upon his brow " will exclude 
THE INTEMPERATE.
13
him from  the  best society among the circles
of gaiety  and  fashion, nor will he fail to be
courted and caressed, Avhile he  can make a
figure  in  the world, and " smile, and smile,
and be a villain still."
  But when once a man has become publicly
known as a drunkard,  he  is at once exiled
from the home of his youth, and the house of
his friends. His companions in the associations
which made him Avhat  he is, and by whom
his  moderate drinking had been encouraged
by example, until he fell by the snare they
had laid both  for themselves and him, and by
which they  are still entangled;  these  all
avoid  and disown him, as " a fellow not fit
to live."   If  they speak of him in his ab-
sence, it  is as of one  lost, utterly beyond
recovery,  as forever lost.  Or even  if among
his former friends there be any  semblance of
commiseration over  his unhappy fate, while
they express their emotions of  pity, or even
find  it in their hearts to make  prayer in his
behalf, both the one and the other are accom-
panied with all unbelief, and despair  in  his
case  is universally  felt and  expressed.  A
brother's  and  a sister's love,  a father's pa-
              2 
14-             A PLEA  FOR
ternal  regard,  a mother's  compassion, and
even a wife's deep fountains of affection, are,
alas! too often sealed, and  towards the hap-
less wanderer, all, all, are " without natural
affection," and his name is seldom mentioned,
but with a feeling allied to execration.
  Is he met in the street, or in public places,
after he has become known as a drunkard 1
Even  his own  familiar friend will pass him,
without a look of recognition, and possibly
not content with thus slighting him, Avill even
outrage his forlorn condition by a visible ex-
pression of scorn  or  derision;  and his imme-
diate relatives, if they speak to him at all, do
so in terms of rebuke and contempt, perhaps
accompanied by  upbraiding and  reproachful
epithets.  They look upon him as an outlaw
from all the ties of kindred ;  a living pesti-
lence, for whom there is no  hope.  Not only
is he shut out from  all the  redeeming  influ-
ences of the domestic circle, but his company
and even his presence is shunned, nor is any
effort to reclaim or restore  him,  prompted
either by parental,  filial, fraternal, or even
conjugal love.  Thus abandoned  by all, and
constrained to feel the unutterable anguish of 
THE INTEMPERATE.
15
his cruel exile, he becomes given up to self-
abandonment, and exclaims, in the desolation
of his spirit,  " No one cares for my soul!"
The last ray of light and hope is thus, alas!
too often extinguished, and the hapless exile,
now only the sad remnant of what he was,
regarding himself doomed to infamy and  ex-
ecration, soon yields to his destiny, and  his
immortal spirit is engulfed in the whirlpool of
perdition.
   Such is the melancholy  picture of human
woe, which sober truth  constrains us to por-
tray, as existing in multiplied thousands,  un-
der the  eye of a civilized and Christian popu-
lation,  and  prototypes  of which  may  be
found in every city and town in  the  United
States.   And  in  looking around  upon these
victims of intemperance, thus driven to self-
abandonment by " man's inhumanity to man,"
we may see among them fathers,—husbands,
—brothers,—sons, many of whom were once
among  " Nature's noblemen,"  in  birth,  in
education, in real worth, in every attribute
which dignifies manhood ;  and even now, if
reclaimed, capable of adorning the domestic
circle, being a blessing to society, and con- 
16
A PLEA FOE
ferring signal  benefits upon the world.  But
in an evil hour, they have learned to love the
social glass, perhaps amid the scenes of their
childhood's home, the  poisoned chalice hav-
ing been put to  their lips  in the circle  of
those loved  ones, whose ties of kindred and
affection, could alone have seduced them into
this sad error, by which they have fallen into
the snare of the  destroyer.   By  reason of a
physical necessity,  a little has demanded a
little  more, occasional drinking has, by the
laws of  their  physical being, insensibly be-
come habitual drinking, until this demon has
put out their eyes, closed their ears, hardened
their hearts, poisoned their brains, and  is hur-
rying them on to a  life of desperation, and a
grave of infamy.  Multitudes of such are
even  now perishing,  and this without one
kind hand stretched out for their rescue, with
scarcely a prayer breathed for their deliver-
ance, or one tear being  shed over their dis-
honored graves.
   May we not then hope to gain the  public
ear, while,  in behalf of these degraded  out-
casts from  the sympathies  of our common
nature, we here record our plea; and shall Ave 
THE INTEMPERATE.
17
 not find a response in the bosom of every man
 or woman, who has a heart " to feel another's
 woe ?"  It  is  not  for  intemperance, we
 plead, but for its  miserable victims.  In the
 name  of God  and humanity, we invoke in
 behalf of the poor drunkard, a  share of that
 sympathy, and of those kind offices, to which
 by the laws of God and nature, his Aery man-
 hood entitles him, and to which his wretch-
 edness gives him an irresistible claim. By all
 the endearing ties of kindred, we would com-
 mend  our  appeal to parents, wives, sisters,
 brothers, in behalf of their drunken relatives;
 and implore,  that  however degraded  by
 crime,  and  whatever disgrace  those crimes
 may have inflicted,  such be not driven to
 self-abandonment, for want of  those  soft
 words  and kind looks,  which,  though they
 cost nothing, are beyond  all price to these
 children of misfortune, in the hour  of their
 extremity.
   But with the view of commending our ap-
 peal to every man's heart and conscience in
 the sight of God, we would urge upon the
 public  mind, the  importance of a just  and
righteous discrimination between the delirium
             2* 
18
A PLEA FOR
of occasional intoxication, occurring in the
person of a  "moderate"  drinker;  and the
monomania, which supervenes upon long and
hard drinking, as exemplified in  the case of
the habitual drunkard.   The former is volun-
tary and self-inflicted, while the power of vo-
lition  remains  unimpaired;  and  hence all
moderate  drinkers  are  guilty  men;  they
should be " Avithstood to the face,  because
they are to be blamed," and for the delirium
of such, the sudden  effect of recent intoxica-
tion, they are inexcusably criminal.   In this
righteous condemnation, are included all who
are styled " moderate," " temperate," " now
and then" drinkers, who, under any pretext,
indulge themselves in  the occasional use of
intoxicating liquors, as a  beverage, until ha-
bitual  drinking  is  superinduced.  All  such
are " occasionally"  the victims of this deli-
rium, many such are only " drunken in the
night," and  sleep off their  delirium, Avhile
they  conceal from themselves and  others,
their guilty intemperance.
   While such may thus continue to escape
the shame of  being known as  drunkards,
though conscious of their guilt and danger, 
THE INTEMPERATE.
19
 we can make no  plea in their behalf, which
 should protect  them  from unsparing rebuke
 and censure; but even for these, we would
 bespeak land admonition, faithful reproof, and
 persevering warning.  For while  they  are
 deceived  and deluded by  the popular  error,
 that the occasional indulgence in these drinks
 is harmless, and even salutary, they unhappi-
 ly deceive themselves by imagining that they
 can indulge in  drinking,  moderately, and
 even habitually, without becoming drunkards.
 Hence the admonition, reproof, and warning,
 should in  all kindness and faithfulness be di-
 rected against this infatuation and  self-delu-
 sion, and  all such should be taught, whether
 they Avill  hear or forbear, that the cause, and
 the only cause of drunkenness, is not excess,
but moderate drinking; and that this  cause
 will produce its effect by a physical necessity,
unavoidably and infallibly certain, because of
the laws of health and life, from which there
is no appeal.
  These laws of health and life are of Divine
 authority,  though found in the book of nature,
and are as much the work  of the Creator, as
those laws written in the Book of Revelation. 
20
A PLEA FOR
A violation of the laws of health  and life, is
as truly a transgression of the  law of God,
as breaking  either of the  commandments of
the decalogue, and these sins against the body
are, by the appointment of the Creator, visited
with their  appropriate penalty.   Hence  the
physical effects of the first  glass of alcoholic
liquors, when drank by a person who has  not
previously  tasted it, will be found uniformly
to result in the following morbid phenomena,
viz.: headache, vertigo, interrupted vision, dis-
turbed sleep, depraved appetite, and  subse-
quent  languor,  and exhaustion,  which  the
unaided powers of the system are inadequate
to remove  for several  days.  Such are  the
outcries of  indignant nature  against the first
violation of her laws.
   But if the offence be repeated  again and
again, the  conservative powers of life may
adjust or accommodate the system to this  en-
croachment upon the order of nature, so that
for a time  the repetition of a single glass, at
brief intervals, may be continued with seem-
ing impunity.  It is in this way, that a mor-
bid appetite for these  drinks is acquired, both
artificial and  unnatural in its cravings; and 
THE INTEMPERATE.
21
like every other perversion of nature, this ap-
petite becomes ungovernable, and imperative-
ly demands an increase in the quantity, and
greater frequency in  its repetition.   For by
the laws impressed by the Creator upon the
living tissues of  the body, the reaction, or
physical resistance to evil, Avill like that of
the moral,  lessen in proportion to the repeti-
tion of the attacks.   As has been justly re-
marked by Dr. Waterhouse, " those guards of
health found in the human constitution desert
nature, and go over to the side of the enemy,"
and it is thus that intemperance in the use of
alcohol, opium, and other unnatural poisons,
begin  their  destructive  career.   Occasional
drinking becomes habitual  drinking by  a
physical necessity, and this  in its turn by the
like necessity becomes intemperate drinking.
The cause of drunkenness, then, and the  only
cause, is not  intemperate or excessive drink-
ing, for this  is but the physical effect of the
temperate and moderate and occasional use
of intoxicating drinks.   No man ever did,  or
can drink in  excessive quantities until he has
previously  learned to drink  moderately, nor
was there ever an individual who  began the 
22
A PLEA FOR
use ©f intoxicating liquors with the design, or
even  consent to become drunken.  Men are
overtaken by drunkenness for the first time,
while they are occasional and moderate drink-
ers in their own estimation and that of others.
Indeed the conscious delirium produced by
the first  excess, is discerned by themselves
with  a  thrill  of  horror, arising  from  the
thought,  now brought home to  them, that
they  have insensibly committed an  excess,
while they are sure they only meant to drink
moderately.  They console themselves by the
reflection that they have only taken a little
too much, and resolve to be more guarded in
future, and persist  in  moderate drinking.
Alas! their fatal  error is in attributing the
mischief to their having committed an excess,
instead of discovering that their moderate use
is the source of their excess, and that the lat-
ter must succeed the former, as certainly as an
effect follows its cause.
   The habit being formed, the stomach now
demands  its  accustomed  excitement, which
though at first artificial  and morbid, is now
felt to be necessary in order to the perform-
ance of its functions.  The appetite for food, 
THE INTEMPERATE.
23
 and the ability, to sleep, having been made to
 depend upon this unnatural poison,  the want
 of it becomes intolerable,  and the  unhappy
 valetudinarian  flies to his destroyer,  as  the
 only remedy for the disease which his mode-
 rate drinking has created, and which is now
 developed.  But, alas,  the digestive organs
 are not alone involved, for the alcohol  has
 now entered the circulation, and is carried
 with the blood, throughout every vessel of the
 body.   The excited heart atad  arteries hurry
 this poison through the minute vascular tissues
 of the  brain, and if delirium be not  yet pre-
 sent and apparent, yet the  engorged or con-
 gested  state of the brain, necessarily  beclouds
 the intellect, and benumbs the moral  sense.
 Henceforth, however rational and accountable
 on other topics, there is " no light in  him" on
 this particular  subject.  In every other re-
 spect he may be susceptible of motives, and
 may be influenced by light and love.   But in
 relation to  his guilt, degradation and danger,
 he has  neither  eyes nor ears.  His  mental
 vision, and  the other internal  senses of the
soul are not only morbid in their indications,
but a fatal  lethargy and paralysis of the will, 
24             A PLEA FOR
render him a bond slave to his morbid thirst
for intoxicating drinks, and  alas too  often,
his chains become those of hopeless intermin-
able slavery.   Such  are the successive steps
downward and backward, to which moderate
drinking leads its besotted victims to the over-
throw of hope, the dethronement of reason,
and the gulf of perdition.
   He who would avoid so terrible a  fate,
should  beware  how  he quits the vantage
ground  of entire abstinence  from even  the
moderate use of such  drinks.   No man ever
crossed the " great gulf fixed" between  so-
briety and intemperance at a single stride
At first  a little demanded  a  little  more.
Moderate  drinking was the first step down-
ward and backAvard;  and thence habitual
drinking became a short,  easy, and as we
have  seen a  necessary  step.  The  descent
thus far is fearfully hazardous, for the steep
and abrupt  declivity  commences here, and
there is an omnipotent  law   of gra\Titation
which precipitates such as come within  its
action down  into physical  and moral death.
For it has been wisely and truly said, " He
who drinks intoxicating liquor till he  loves it, 
THE INTEMPERATE.
25
will drink it till he dies, without a miracle."
Nor could any  miracle save him  which did
not at once and forever annihilate the poison,
or exclude him from the possibility of procur-
ing it; for in the artificial excitement of strong
drink, " he lives, and moves, and has his be-
ing."
   At this period in the history of the intem-
perate, the habit of continued drinking is per-
petuated by a physical necessity, and this be-
cause of  positive disease, not in the stomach
merely, as erroneously supposed, but in the
brain.   A peculiar condition of the stomach
is doubtless present whenever  the  sensation
of thirst is felt, just as a certain condition of the
eye is necessary to that of vision, but in both
instances, the sensation itself takes  place in
the brain.   It is well known  that a morbid
state of the brain and nervous system, in the
disease called delirium tremens, results in the
phenomena of double vision;  so  also the
state of the eyes, when spectres, demons, and
fiendish  hobgoblins of frightful  shape, are
constantly in sight,  must doubtless be referred
to the same organ.   But while these indica-
tions are supposed  to prove  the existence of
             3 
26
A PLEA FOR
 positive disease in the brain,  in  every such
 case of  " drunken horrors," yet the ungov-
 ernable thirst for strong drink in such persons,
 is as truly referable to the brain,  as the im-
 aginary  spectres which dance before the vis-
 ion, and it affords as conclusive evidence of
 disease in that organ.
   As this position lies at the threshold of our
 plea, it may be  important to sustain it by a
 familiar  illustration.   " Is it  the stomach, or
 the mind and  brain of the child, which sees
 the display in the confectioner's window, and
 excites the flow of the saliva in the mouth,
 and the ardent desire to partake ?  And is it
 the stomach or the brain, which, when satiat-
 ed at dinner wdth the roast and boiled, sees and
 craves for the pudding and the pie,  even  Avhen
 they make their  unexpected  appearance ?"
 To propose these questions is to answer them.
 How often do  hunger  and thirst  manifest
themselves intensely Avhen there is no power
of digestion, and vice versa.   These sensa-
 tions are in the brain, and not in the stomach,
 and  hence so often  witnessed in every form
 of insanity.   So  also  the thirst  for strong
drink, which still cries Give! Give! and nev- 
THE INTEMPERATE.
27
 er says it is enough, is a morbid  sensation in
 the brain, resulting from physical  disease in
 that organ.
   That distinguished philosopher and philan-
 thropist, Dr Benjamin Rush, more than forty
 years since, adopted and promulgated similar
 opinions.   That habitual drunkards are such
 from necessity, he inferred from the fact that
 he found  them irreclaimable by all the con-
 siderations which domestic obligations, friend-
 ship, reputation,  property,  and  sometimes
 even by those Avhich religion and the love of
 life can suggest to them.  Hence he declares
 all such to be Monomaniacs, the victims of
 physical disease, which with philosophical ac-
 curacy he located in the brain, denominating
 it in his  classification, " derangement of the
 moral faculty, and  particularly derangement
 of the  will."  He not only insisted that ha-
bitual  drunkenness was itself  a disease, but
the necessary and  unavoidable effect of dis-
 ease in the brain ;  and ascribing their contin-
ual drinking  to their insanity, he urged that
such should receive the same kind and lenient
treatment as is extended, by common consent,
to  the insane from  any other cause.  Indeed 
28
A PLEA FOE
in 1810, Dr. Rush published a lecture design-
ed to show, that both theft and murder were,
in many cases, mere symptoms of this disease,
" derangement of the moral faculty, or  mor-
bid operations of the  will," the brain having
fallen into functional  or organic disease un-
der  the habitual use of strong drink.  He
humanely sought to rescue such mad  people
from the arm of the laAv, because he saw that
even their  habitual  drinking  was  a  mere
symptom of disease, and ought  not therefore
to be visited with the  penalties of crime.
  So universal was the custom of drinking
intoxicating liquors, in the days of  Dr. Rush,
that in almost every family they were regarded
as innocent and safe, and hence being included
among the necessaries of life in public  esti-
mation, they were accessible in every house,
and  furnished  to every visiter, as a token of
hospitality.  Under such circumstances it is
not wonderful that he regarded  the disease of
drunkenness as incurable, for the reason that
while the  patient was at large, he could not
be restrained from indulging his morbid thirst,
seeing that the poison was ever before him.
His only hope  for the cure of  this  disease, 
THE INTEMPERATE.
29
  therefore, Avas in his favorite project, which he
  so long urged in vain upon the public authori-
  ties, for  a  Hospital or Sober House, which
  should offer an asylum to all such, where they
  might be subjected to a combination of phys-
  ical  and  moral treatment, adapted to  this
  form of insanity.   And he urged this course
 on the ground that they  were  as much ob-
 jects of humanity and  charity, and as fit sub-
 jects of medical treatment, as other mad peo-
 ple.   It is  obvious, however, that his  main
 reason for the confinement  and exclusion of
 such, was that all use of intoxicating drinks
 might be absolutely prohibited, nor would he
 have permitted their employment in his Hos-
 pital or Sober House even as a medicine.
   WTe cannot but admire the sagacity of this
 great and good man, in devising this scheme
 for the rescue of these  wretched  monomani-
 acs, in whose behalf he never  ceased to ex-
 hibit active sympathy, and enlightened benev-
 olence.  He saw and deplored the popular
 error as exhibited in the prevalent use of in-
 toxicating liquors, and inculcated the neces-
sity of entire abstinence, as forcibly as it has
ever been done since by the apostles of Tem-
              3* 
30
A PLEA FOR
perance.   But he failed to  effect the change
in the popular creed and  practice, AAhich has
since so happily commenced in our own and
other countries, by the instrumentality of as-
sociated action, among the multitudes  who
have adopted  kindred  sentiments Avith those
he so ably and eloquently  advocated.   Had
he lived until now, he would have rejoiced to
find that though his projected Hospitals for
the Intemperate have not yet been provided,
his enlightened views have been virtually re-
duced  to practice, and with a success which
would  have removed the hopelesness and des-
pair with  which he was wont to contemplate
the victims of this disease, because of the im-
possibility of enforcing entire abstinence from
an article, the use of Avhich was then so uni-
versally prevalent.
   But while the progress of the Temperance
reformation has been accumulating proofs of
the possibility of radical and  permanent re-
formation from habitual  and  long-continued
drunkenness,  and demonstrating  that  even
the most hopeless  among the monomaniacs
from this  cause may be cured by the simple
expedient of total abstinence  from intoxica- 
THE INTEMPERATE.
31
ting liquors', (multitudes of such having been
thus restored to their families and to society,)
still, towards such, the most erroneous opin-
ions, and the most unwise and inconsistent
conduct, are  found in the public creed and
practice.  Even those who unite in the Tem-
perance  pledge  are wont to regard  it as  a
preA'entive merely, without appreciating its
remedial efficiency.  In  the  pubhc appeals,
too often, the temperate  only are invited and
urged to sign the pledge, while intemperate
persons, who may be present, are left to infer
that for them there  is no hope.  And even
in the tracts, and other printed Temperance
documents, there are seldom found any words
of encouragement  to those who have fallen
into the snare of the destroyer ; and  some of
these propose no more than to include all the
temperate in  the ranks of the Society, and
thus prevent another generation of drunkards;
while they most inhumanly calculate the brief
term of existence which  remains to the pres-
ent race of  the intemperate, and seem to re-
gard their extinction from the face of the earth
as the most desirable thing under heaven. Nor
is there any alternative held out to such, but 
32
A PLEA FOR
 living and dying in their sins, perishing with-
 out an effort to rescue them from the drunk-
 ard's grave, or even from the drunkard's hell.
   It  is, perhaps, vain to  reason against  the
 prevalent  disposition to  abandon drunkards
 to their destiny, as utterly beyond hope, until
 the notion can be banished from the public
 mind, that moderate drinking is  innocent and
 safe,  and  that drunkenness is the evidence
 and effect of excess.   So far  from this being
 true,  an honest and candid investigation will
 show that there are many whose excess, so
 far as the quantity of their daily potations is
 to be regarded as excess, is much  greater
 than  that  used by their drunken neighbors,
 while they themselves were never known to
 be  drunk,  and  even escape the suspicion of
 intemperance.  They esteem themselves  as
 moderate  drinkers, and are so  regarded  by
 others.  Indeed, there are many who drink
incredible quantities  without betraying  their
guilty intemperance, and even overthrow
their health and destroy their lives by strong
drink, while they conceal  their intemperance
from  their nearest friends, living and dying
 with  the reputation  of being only moderate 
THE INTEMPERATE.
33
 drinkers.  They have been  discreet  enough
 to avoid exposing  themselves to observation,
 when they felt the delirium of incipient in-
 toxication, and  circumspect enough  to be
 only " drunken in the night."  Such persons
 have, nevertheless, gradually and insensibly
 allowed the habit to groAv upon  them with
 their  groAvth,  and   strengthen  Avith  their
 strength, until they can drink, with impunity
 from detection, to  an  excess  which the most
 notorious drunkards have never equalled.
   Much, very much, depends upon the time
 of life when drinking habits are formed, in
 regard to  the greater  or less  susceptibility to
 drunkenness, as also the greater or less lia-
 bility to shorten  life by this vice.  A young
 man, contracting the  habit early in life, will
 be soon betrayed into drunkenness, and  ex-
 pose  himself to its reproach; and if he be
 not reformed, he will seldom live to be 30
 years  of age, for,  if he be not an obvious
 victim to  the  direct  effects of this vice, yet
 because of it, diseases, otherwise curable, will
 be fatal to him.   Hence,  numerous  as are
 old gray-headed drunkards  in every commu-
nity, if their history be inquired  into, an in- 
34
A PLEA FOR
 stance will be exceedingly rare in which  an
 old drunkard can be found, who did not con-
 tract  the habit  of drinking after  he had
 passed  his  30th year.  Indeed, it  is  well
 ascertained, that when men commence the
 practice of drinking after they have  passed
 30  or 40 years of hfe in sobriety, and their
 constitutions  have acquired  the maturity  of
 manhood, they can  then learn  to drink to a
 ruinous excess without betraying the ordina-
 ry signs of drunkenness, and are  very often
 enabled to resist the injurious  effects upon
 health and life, which  are witnessed so often
 among younger men, even from a  much less
degree of excess.
  But it is  not  true,  in any sense, that the
 grossly intemperate are such because of the
 excessive  quantity they drink.  On the con-
trary,  no habitual  drunkard can  be found
who drinks  a moiety of the daily quantity
which he used to  drink while he was re-
garded a moderate drinker, and before he
had  become  a  drunkard.   It  is  wholly  a
 mistake to suppose that the most desperate
 drunkard is the man who drinks the greatest
 quantity of intoxicating liquors, or that the 
THE INTEMPERATE.
35
  degree of drunkenness, in any given case, is
  proportionate to the quantity drank.   For,
  when once intoxication has become habitual,
  any quantity, however small, is  sufficient to
  perpetuate it, if taken before the system has
  recovered from the inebriation.
   Alcohol is a poison, and obeys the physical
 laws which are found to  govern in the ani-
 mal economy in relation to other poisons.
 For a time, and  in a limited quantity, any of
 them may  be taken with impunity, and the
 conservative  agencies of  the body may pro-
 tect the  system from their  noxious effects,
 even though repeated and increased in ex-
 tent.  But when once the deleterious results
 of any poison has become apparent, its fur-
 ther introduction must be  wholly discon-
 tinued, before the mischief can be repaired.
 A proportion of the poison, which before had
 been daily used with impunity, cannot  now
 be endured at all, and even  a much smaller
 dose will be sufficient to  perpetuate all the
pernicious  results developed by the first ex-
 cess.
  This may  be  illustrated  by   the exam-
ples  in which tobacco has been used, either 
36             A PLEA FOR
by chewing or  smoking, to an extent which
has become visibly detrimental to health.   In
such cases it is  found, that while any quanti-
ty of tobacco, however small, is used by such
persons,  in  any way, it is  impossible to re-
cover from  the effects of the excess; and
without entire abstinence from tobacco, now
that it has become a poison, the health is  ir-
recoverably lost.  The same may be  said of
opium, and even tea  and coffee;  for when
either of these has impaired health, by the
excess to which  they have  been used, they
must  be abandoned entirely before relief can
be obtained ; and the smallest quantity of the
poisonous agent will  keep  up the  mischief,
and  defeat  any  curative means.
   Such is manifestly  the case with  alcoholic
liquors;  and  accordingly,  when   once the
sources of vitality have been poisoned  by ha-
bitual drinking, and full intoxication has been
superinduced, a much  smaller quantity than
has been employed for this purpose will  be
found  sufficient to perpetuate it.   Indeed,
when once a man  becomes  a drunkard,  he
will  find it impossible to drink as much as  he
did formerly, since he will become physically 
THE INTEMPERATE.
37
 incapacitated by being " dead drunk" before
 he has drank to one-half the extent to which
 he had been  daily  accustomed for months
 and years before, Avhile he was yet called  a
 moderate drinker.   And hence, if there be
 innocence and excellence in moderate drink-
 ing, the drunkards are better entitled to  our
 respect  and admiration than those who  de-
 spise them; for  the worst drunkard is  the
 most moderate drinker  in  the whole frater-
 nity.  For while moderate drinkers, so called
 because not knoAvn to be drunken, will often
 drink a pint of brandy in a day, or a bottle
 of wine at dinner, and another at night, any
 drunkard in the  land can be kept drunk  the
 year  round by half the quantity, after he is
 once fully intoxicated.  And though it may
 have required a quart of fourth-proof brandy,
 taken in twenty-four hours, to have fully  in-
 toxicated him  at first, yet, now the mischief
 has been done, a single glass of wine, porter,
 beer, or even cider, if repeated  every few
 hours, and before he has fully recovered from
 his intoxication, will keep him drunk until
 he  dies, the victim not  of excess, but  of
" moderate, very  moderate drinking."  Nor
         4 
38
A PLEA FOR
 would any man ever recover from a  fit of
 intoxication, if he did not, by a physical ne-
 cessity,  totally  abstain ;  for  he would be
 drunk till  he died, if he continued to  drink
 any intoxicating liquor, however moderately.
 And it is  equally certain that  no drunkard
 was ever  reformed  except  by total  absti-
 nence, for the same  reason—a single glass,
 even  of the  Aveakest kind  of intoxicating
 liquor, being  sufficient to perpetuate drunk-
 enness, by reproducing it indefinitely.
  In  reprobating  excessive  drinking  then,
 while extenuating moderate drinking, we fail
 to reach the conscience of the drunkard ; for
 he  knows that he is now only a moderate
 drinker, though  he can  revert  to the  time
when he did drink to excess, and since which
he has been conscious of a physical disability
of drinking to the same extent, for he noAv be-
 comes  drunk, long before he passes the line
 of moderation.   Nor can such a man ever be
 reformed, until he feels that the origin and
 source of his drunkenness, as well as its pre-
 sent continuance is moderation, and not ex-
 cess.   The public mind, moreover, must be
 taught that to abandon  the  drunkard to his 
THE INTEMPERATE.
39
fate, because of his present excessive drinking,
is  abominable injustice and wrong, since no
drunkard  is guilty of any present excess, his
only crime now being moderate drinking, and
much more moderate than he formerly practis-
ed, with the approval and companionship of
those who  now  cast him off as  worthy of
death, " a fellow not fit to live."
   In view of  the physical disease, which we
alledge to be present in every case of habitu-
al drunkenness, and which the foregoing state-
ments are designed  to corroborate, we would
argue the policy and duty of extending to all
such, the kind  attentions, to which the help-
less,  the  unfortunate, and  the afflicted,  are
ever entitled.   Before  our  fellow man had
fallen into the ditch of drunkenness, and while
moderate  drinking had not yet done its work
by poisoning the sources of  life, he  might
have rescued himself by Avell directed  efforts.
But now the Rubicon has  been passed and
self extrication is no longer possible.   Unless
he is aided by some extraneous agency, the
wretched victim of strong drink, now that his
monomaniais developed, lives and dies without
hope.   Alas ! how  often is  this sad catastro- 
40
A PLEA FOR
phe precipitately hastened, by the slight, con-
tempt, scorn, and  abandonment  Avith which
he is treated, and this often by those " of his
own household."
  Moreover, we alledge that the disease is in
the brain, and this in every case of habitual
drunkenness.   The  intense desire for strong
drink is the universal symptom of this disease,
and is kept up by a physical necessity, as un-
governable as  is the burning thirst for cold
water in certain fevers.   And as in the latter
case, delirium, frenzy, and desperation will re-
sult if  the water is withheld,  so in the for-
mer, the desire for strong drink Avill impel the
patient in defiance of  his own will, to seek
its gratification, at the hazard or even the sa-
crifice of his life.  Even in cases of attempted
reformation, when total abstinence is enforced
by self-denial or physical restraint, this desire
for strong drink is the last symptom  which
remains during convalescence, and  often con-
tinues  a  longer or a  shorter time as a mere
symptom of disease, after the dominion of
reason or religion has been restored, and the
moral victory is achieved.   This is the source
of the relapses, so frequent, and so much to be 
THE INTEMPERATE.
41
deplored, and Avhich can  only be prevented
by continuing the restraints, until this  last
morbid symptom is removed.
   Noav as the brain is the seat of the disease,
and as this  organ is the  instrument of the
mind, it must be  apparent that the  mental
and moral  manifestations  will be essentially
morbid.  And shall such a monomaniac, im-
pelled irresistibly  by the diseased  action in
his brain, be dealt with as a voluntary agent,
treated as a  guilty outlaw, and this even in
examples in Avhich he  has never shown  any
disposition  to injure any one but himself, or
been guilty of any crime but that of moderate
drinking, which has made him what he is 1
By all the considerations  of  eternal justice
and right, we should protest against such in-
humanity, such cruel wrong against  one, who
however guilty while a moderate drinker, is
now the victim  of  misfortune, calamity,  and
disease. Over such monomaniacs, the laws of
God and man should  extend the  shield   of
protection and security, nor can they justly be
regarded as worthy of the penalties of any law
for their present continuance in drunkenness.
If otherwise,  then consistency would demand
              4* 
42              A PLEA FOR
that infants and  idiots, and maniacs of every
class, instead of being guided and restrained
in accordance with the dictates of enlightened
philanthropy, should  all be made  subject to
the pains and penalties of the statute book.
  The Christian reader cannot but be affected
by the thought that while this insanity renders
its victim  incapable of  contracting guilt by
his  crime of drinking, this being with him in-
voluntary, and a symptom of his disease ; he is
equally incapacitated  from exercising repent-
ance.   And as  obligation can only be com-
mensurate with ability, the duty of present re-
pentance is not required of him,  any more
than of the insane of any other class.  WHiere
present  ability  ends, present accountability
must cease, and  this by a moral necessity, no
matter how that inability has been produced.
No human or divine requirement can  impose
impossibility  as duty, and  though penalties
for  involuntary transgressions may be inflict-
ed  by human creeds of jurisprudence, they
are unknown to any wise or just government
either in this world or the next.
  As therefore  the  insanity of  drunkenness,
disqualifies its  victim from  present  repent- 
THE INTEMPERATE.
43
ance, while his former life of sin remains un-
repented of, and especially the sin of moderate
drinking which is the source of his present
inability; we may estimate the unmitigated
curse which  has fallen  upon such, and we
cannot fail to perceive the irresistible appeal
which their  moral  condition makes to the
heart.   Obligation now rests on us, his fellow
men, not on him.   By every principle of hu-
manity and duty, by every tie of our common
manhood, we are  called upon to restore him
to his reason  and  accountability, if this be in
our power, with the benevolent design that
he may again become capable of voluntary
action, and come to repentance.
   It is no A'alid objection to  our plea, to al-
ledge that his present monomania is the result
of crime, of habits of moderate drinking, vol-
untarily indulged, in defiance of entreaty and
warning.  All  this  and more, may  be  true,
and yet the stronger  is his present claim to
the sympathies of humanity now that he has
been overtaken by the sad penalty of his folly
and sin, enduring  as he is the severity of un-
utterable calamity.
   When a fellow-being is drowning, shall we 
44
A PLEA FOR
pause to inquire Avhether he  voluntarily  en-
tered the water, or fell into it by accident, or
whether he was drunk at the time, or in the
act of some greater offence 1  Or rather shall
we not  stretch out our hand  and rescue him
first, and speculate afterwards ?   These mo-
nomaniacs for whom we plead, are perishing
by a more fearful death ; nor can we be de-
terred from imploring the interposition of the
hand of kindness, by any upbraiding reference
to their former crimes.  Nor can it be any
bar against our plea, to insist  that the drunk-
ard has been  or is now a sinner.   We should
never forget  the rebuke of the Holy One of
Israel to a  multitude clamoring for the blood
of a notorious sinner, and invoking swift ven-
geance upon  her guilty head,  " Let him that
is without sin, cast the first stone."
   Nor should it  for a moment  be supposed
that the case  of any drunkard  is incurable, for
he is not, unless he is made so, by being cast
off from the sympathies of human kind ;  nor
should he ever be abandoned while he con-
tinues to live.  If his Maker  does not  suffer
him to be cut off, even during his insane at-
tempts at self-destruction, it is because there 
THE INTEMPERATE.
45
is yet hope in his case.   He is " long suffer-
ing to us-ward, not willing that any should
perish," not even the drunken monomaniac,
" but that all should come to  repentance."
True, he may have given himself up  for lost,
and  in the language of one such, " suicide,
like a mighty incubus, may sit enthroned upon
his soul," but still he should be made to feel
that he  has friends  who have not ceased  to
pray, and labor, and hope, for his repentance
and recovery.
  Instead of being treated as an outcast from
the offices of humanity, he should be  soothed,
restrained, and protected.  He should be as-
sured that we compassionate his wayward-
ness, that we are not willing to give  him up,
that we  yet have hope of his  rescue, and
during his brief intervals of sobriety, he should
meet with naught but the sympathies of hu-
man kind  for perishing  manhood.   To up-
braid him now with his past sins, is  consum-
mate cruelty,—to deal censoriously with him
for his present drunken habits is abominable
injustice and wrong.
  The prevalent creed,  that drunkenness is
always a crime  and never  a misfortune, has 
46               A PLEA FOR
led to the prevalent practice of abandoning
such, as utterly beyond recovery from perdi-
tion ; and those who adopt this creed never
put forth an effort to save the drunkard from
such a destiny.   These wijl regard our plea
as mere sentimentahsm, and any scheme for
rescuing such, as Utopian and visionary. But
we who have embraced a different creed and
pursued corresponding practice, are prepared
to testify that we have seen; and emboldened
by the results of our experience and our ob-
servation,  we would fain reach every drunk-
ard in the land with the assurance that there
is  still  room to hope in  his  case.  For in-
stances  are  numerous in which young  men
have been rescued from this  monomania, by
the persevering efforts of a mother, a sister, or
a wife,  when all else had cast the  helpless
wanderer off, and Avoman's love had prompted
this  deed of  compassion;  " hoping  even
against  hope."   In  such  examples  of the
triumph of these " angels of mercy," the m'oral
suasion of persevering kindness has been aided
by no physical means other than the restraints
of total  abstinence, imposed kindly but firmly,
until the desire for strong drink had  become 
TEE INTEMPERATE.
47
 extinguished  by time,  and the persevering
 tenderness of woman's love.
   But  it is freely conceded, that this disease
 often reaches a point, when such efforts, how-
 ever well directed, will  be inadequate  to re-
 store the fallen victim of intemperance, and
 hence there is still an imperative call for the
 Hospital, or Sober-house, for which Dr. Rush
 pleaded so  eloquently nearly half  a century
 ago, and in behalf of which, " though he be
 dead, he yet speaketh."   If public policy Avill
 not  prompt this measure, private philanthropy
 should  combine to secure it; and they who
 Avill furnish the world with the first example
 of such an institution of benevolence, will be
 the benefactors  of their race; and  while the
 wise and good on earth will honor them, they
 will  receive the approving smile, of Heaven,
 and  the grateful homage of posterity.
  If such Sober-houses  were provided, and
 conducted on the principles of pure universal
 benevolence, the voluntary subjects of their
 restraints would be  sufficiently numerous, to
 commend  their  importance and  utility to
 every  lover   of his  species.  Their  motto
should be that of Oliver  Goldsmith, " True 
48
A PLEA FOR
 merit  consists  not in a man's never falling,
 but in rising  as often as he falls."  While
 they should in appearance and reality be as
 far as possible removed from the semblance of
 a prison,  the  discipline and  restraint should
 be  absolute and perpetual.  It should be pub-
 licly avowed, that the victims of  intempe-
 rance  were here regarded and treated as ob-
jects of pity as well as blame, of commisera-
 tion as well as censure.  The doors should be
 thrown open to receive all, who, despairing of
self-extrication from the snare of the destroy-
 er,  were  willing to be aided  and assisted by
the restraints and discipline of a house from
which  strong drink was  excluded, and  es-
cape rendered  impossible.  Their treatment
in other respects should be  kind and gentle,
such as that extended to invalids,  and they
should  be made  to feel that they are here re-
garded not as criminals, but as diseased per-
sons, for whom both medical and moral treat-
ment is required, nor should any upbraiding
reference to the  past, be allowed.   And, un-
til the  evidence  was conclusive, that the  de-
sire for strong drink, which is the last symp-
tom of their disease, has been removed, they 
THE INTEMPERATE.
49
 should be regarded and reported only as con-
 valescent, but  on no  account dismissed  as
 cured.
   The  necessary  details  of medical  and
 moral  management  of  such an  infirmary,
 would readily suggest themselves to the hu-
 mane conductors of the institution, and need
 not  be attempted here.  The comfort, em-
 ployment, and exercise of the inmates would
 of course be secured, their general health im-
 proved by suitable regimen and  medication,
 and above all their affections  and  confidence
 acquired, by the kindness and  affectionate in-
 terest in their welfare, of all with whom they
 should be permitted to have intercourse.
   But, in the absence of such a desideratum,
 there are still other methods,  in which we
 may be successful in reclaiming and restoring
 these children  of sorrow,  and in rescuing
 them from  their cruel  destiny, even in the
 hour  of their deepest extremity.   If neither
 the public authorities, nor the  associated be-
 nevolence of the age, can be touched by the
 exhibitions of human misery, which intempe-
rance is ever inflicting upon  the living and
the dying among its victims, there is vet hope
             5 
50              A PLEA FOR
from the efforts of individual philanthropy.
To every lover  of our species, who  can ap-
preciate the luxury of doing  good, and  who
for the sake of  this reward is willing to en-
gage in this self-denying work, we commend
the labors  and  successes, which invariably
succeed each other, in  the Temperance  Mis-
sionary field.   " The harvest truly is plente-
ous,  but the  laborers are  few.  Pray ye,
therefore, the Lord of the harvest,  that he
send forth more laborers into  his harvest."
   Surely all who make, and  would adorn  a
Christian profession, will  be prepared to imi-
tate their great Exemplar, who " went about
doing  good."   Nor can  such be unmindful
that the God of love, having  sent the Son of
His love, on a mission of love to our perishing
world, has thus taught us the spirit in which
we should " love our neighbor as ourselves."
Constrained by  this spirit, the poor drunken
monomaniac, should receive at our hands the
kind of attention which the good Samaritan
paid to the " man, who, in his day, had fall-
en  among thieves;"   and  not  the  neglect
which resembles the conduct of the priest and
Levite, who passed on the  other side,  while 
THE INTEMPERATE.
51
their neighbor was " half dead" before their
eyes.   We read that " when the Samaritan"
saw him, he had compassion on him, and went
to him, and bound up his wounds, pouring in
oil and wine, and sit him on his own beast,
and brought him to an inn, and took  care of
him.  And on the morrow, when he depart-
ed, he took out two pence, and  gave them to
the host,  and said unto him, "  Take care of
him, and  whatsoever thou  spendest more,
when I come again, I will repay thee."
  As this  narrative  of  the  Great Teacher
most happily illustrates the duty towards the
intemperate for which we plead, we pause to
contemplate its touching  and instructive de-
tails.
  How strikingly does the object of compas-
sion resemble the poor drunken  monomaniac.
He fell " among thieves, who stripped him of
his raiment, and wounded him, and departed,
leaving him half  dead."  Need we seek an
analogy between these  " thieves," and the
fraternity who make gain of the " wages of
unrighteousness"  by making or  selling the
drunkard's  drink ?  Is  it  not  found  in the
conduct of both ?  When a man  has fallen 
52
A PLEA FOR
among them, is he not " stripped of his rai-
ment," if he be poor and  have naught be-
side ?  Do they not " wound"  his peace, his
health, his character, his family, his body, and
bis soul, and then " depart leaving him half
dead ?"  Would he not perish in this hapless
state, if the world was filled only with priests
andLevites, all "passing on the other side,"
to shun the wretched remnant  of humanity,
because he has " fallen among thieves ?"
   But now see the  good Samaritan,  and
while we learn the history of his benevolence,
let us attend to the voice of him, who con-
cludes the narrative with those  remarkable
words, " Go thou and do likewise !"    The
love  of kindness dwelt in his heart, and hence
" when he saw him he had compassion on
him," and it was precisely that  compassion
with which we should  be inspired, when we
see a drunkard.  But it expended not itself in
emotions or  words,  for "he went to him,"
that  he might be a friend indeed; and thus
we  too should  go to the poor drunkard,
though " half-dead," lying on the ground, or
even " crawled into a stye, and almost bris-
tled into a swine," still we should go to him. 
THE INTEMPERATE.
53
 Is he  " wounded," and truly " half-dead ?"
 still his wounds may be healed  by pouring
 into his ears and his heart, the oil  and Avine of
 human sympathy, in  tones to which he has
 long been a stranger, for he still  lives, and
 " while there  is  life there  is hope."    So
 thought this Samaritan, and hence he walked,
 that this poor sufferer might ride on his beast,
 " he brought him to the inn, and took care of
 him,"  becoming  himself his nurse for the
 night.   And on the morrow he paid his ex-
 penses, and provided for all the  charges
 which  might attend  his  recovery.   Such
 were the acts which are denominated " show-
 ing mercy," and given to illustrate the " love
 to our neighbor," which is the duty of us all.
 He who would  imitate this true  philanthro-
 pist, and share the blessing he enjoyed, must
 " go and do likewise"  even to the   poor
 drunkard.  And so admirably adapted is the
 conduct of the good Samaritan here detailed,
to the case of the intemperate, that a more
enlightened course could not be  advised or
pursued.
  Was the man who fell  among  thieves,
poor, stripped, wounded,  and left half dead?
           5* 
54
A PLEA FOR
So is the drunkard.  Was his condition one
which appealed for commiseration, in view of
his helplessness 1   The drunkard is in a con-
dition  equally  helpless.   Would this  man
have perished, but for the.interposition of the
Samaritan's kind offices ?  So will the poor
drunkard  perish by  a more  awful  death, if
you " pass by on the other side," and leave
him to his fate, as do " priests and Levites,"
and  too often  lovers, friends and  kindred.
Then we should have " compassion " on him,
and give no place to any other emotion.  We
should "go to  him" down into  the  pit, or
enter the dark dungeon of his despair in pur-
suit of him, for he has neither the desire nor
the ability, neither the "will nor the power, to
come to us.  Had the Samaritan waited till
the poor  man soughtand solicited his  kind
offices, he would not have " gone to him " as
we learn  he did, and this because he was a
man, "a neighbor," who  was  lying half
dead, unable even to cry  for help.
  But he did more, for dismounting from his
beast, he placed the poor man in his stead,
and leading the animal, himself being on foot,
he  brought him  to  the  inn. And  then at 
THE INTEMPERATE.
55
 whatever  inconvenience to himself, he  sus-
 pended his journey, and became himself his
 kind and  affectionate  nurse,  spending  the
 night in watching by his bedside, after pour-
 ing  oil and AAine into his wounds, and thus
 soothing and  healing the poor invalid by the
 best attentions which he could  bestow.  Nor
 did he then deem his duty performed until he
 had  contributed from his  purse sufficient  for
 his present relief, and provided for all neces-
 sary care and nursing until he should recover.
   In behalf of the poor drunkard we bespeak
 precisely similar treatment.  At whatever in-
 convenience to ourselves, we should  take the
 time, endure the care,  the trouble, the  ex-
 pense, and the humiliation, if it be  such, of
 raising  our fallen neighbor from the roadside
 or the gutter; — if unable to walk, we should
 provide a conveyance to carry him; — if there
 be no  hospital or sober-house, which would
serve as an inn, we should take him to our
own house, as the  Samaritan  would  have
done had there then been no inn.  And what-
 ever physical  or moral  treatment, whatever
skill or nursing, may be needed in his case,
we should provide.   And in  such  a  case, 
56
A PLEA FOR
 whether successful or not, our record would
 be on high, and our reward would be sure.
   But it  may  be desirable that we should
 indicate still more perspicuously the succes-
 sive steps to be taken, by those  who would
 fain become angels of mercy by participating
 in the reformation of the intemperate.  And
 while greater detail is attempted, it should
 be remembered, that we can  only point out
 to others, the method which  experience  and
 observation  have shown to  be  successful.
 Not  that a still wiser  and better  course may
 not be suggested, and  our  plan  greatly  im-
 proved  by  others, whose  opportunities  are
 more  ample, or whose superior wisdom, piety,
 and philanthropy may better fit them for the
 task.  But we  only record our testimony to
 what we have seen; " we believe, and there-
fore speak," and after many years of diligent
 attention to this subject, and numerous oppor-
tunities of experimenting in this department
of philanthropy, we presume to  do no more
than to offer tne result, for  the consideration
of the wise and good.
  We advise then that every habitual drunk-
 ard be regarded  as a  monomaniac, and  that 
THE INTEMPERATE.
57
 he be treated as an insane man, both in law
 and in fact, according to the humane and en-
 lightened  principles which prevail at this
 day in the department of medical ethics and
jurisprudence.  Let him receive nothing but
 kindness and  sympathy both in public and in
 private, until he shall be made  to  feel that
 while  he is  blamed  for  his former vice  of
 drinking, his  present sufferings in  conse-
 quence of his vice, are commiserated  by all.
 In  sober  eind lucid intervals,  let some one
 gain his confidence, by unequivocal  proofs of
 affection for him as a fellow-being, and by
 sinular proofs of a sincere  desire to be his
 friend.  Reason with  him in such intervals,
 and  you will find him accessible, especially if
you  convince  him  that amidst the wreck  of
friends which  he  has consciously  suffered,
there is one who still survives, whose  heart
throbs with emotions of human sympathy,
 and  who still  cares for his soul.
  Having secured  his confidence, you may
now tell him in  all faithfulness, but still in
tones of kindness,  that he  is destroying his
health, blasting his character, murdering his
wife, or bringing in  sorrow to the grave his 
58
A PLEA FOR
 gray-haired parents, beggaring his children,
 dishonoring his  species, and ruining his soul.
 Tell him all this, and more, if more be need-
 ful to reach his  conscience, and if told in the
 spirit of kindness, he will hear you patiently,
 and he will frankly confess it all, and declare
 that he knoAvs it all.
   But now he will put in his plea of extenu-
 ation, and  alledge that  " he cannot help it,
 that he has made the effort again and again,
 that he has sincerely, honestly, and faithfully
 tried to abandon his destructive habit,  but he
 cannot  help it."  And he tells you  truly;
 nor need we  envy the head or heart of him
 who doubts it.  " Can an Ethiopian change
 his skin, or a  leopard change  his spots ? —
 then may ye do  good who are accustomed to
 do evil."   In  his own strength, by the exer-
tion of any power he now possesses, with all
that is left  to him of moral  agency and voli-
tion, it is true  that " he cannot help it;" and
if  unaided  by  human instrumentality he must
perish, for  even God works by  means, and
man with man is his appointed agency.   In-
stead of  denying or doubting  the truth that
he cannot  help it, you  are to believe  and 
THE INTEMPERATE.
59
 acknowledge that it is even so, and now you
 will convince  him that you  understand  his
 case and do him justice.   And now you have
 reached the point at Avhich you may success-
 fully interpose  your kind offices, by proposing
 to help him do what he cannot  do for him-
 self.  You may now propose your plan, for
 you have entrenched yourself in his heart,
 and henceforth you  may lead  him with the
 docility of a child.
   If there were now accessible to you  an
 asylum, a Hospital or  Sober-House, such as
 that we have described, he would consent to
 be placed there at your first solicitation,  and
 soon he would  be " clothed and  in his right
 mind."   But in the  absence of such philan-
 thropic provision, your own house or that of
 some friend or relative must be opened as his
 refuge, let him be welcomed to the domestic
 fire side, and find a sanctuary in your  bosom,
 premising one  only condition, that  he yield
 himself implicitly to your guidance  and con-
 trol.
  He will by this time, need to be enlighten-
 ed in regard to the course of restraint to which
you are about to subject  him, and  possibly he 
60
A PLEA FOR
may shrink from its strictness, and anticipate
danger to his life from the abrupt and sudden
reverse of his  long continued  habits.   He
may even cite authorities, medical and the-
ological, in  favor of his being allowed " a lit-
tle, very little,  now and then," of  his  accus-
tomed drink, or possibly he may only plead
for wine,  or beer, or cider, in small quantities,
and at long intervals.  But you are to be deaf
to every argument, entreaty, or  device, even
though he should complain of symptoms  of
disease for which under other circumstances,
alcoholic liquor might be medicinally useful.
Though vomiting or diarrhea should be pres-
ent, or the tremors and  horrors of " delirium
tremens"  or " mania a potu"  come on; and
even if a board of physicians should advise al-
coholic liquor as a medicine, you are still to be
as firm as an  adamant, nor  allow  a  single
glass of any spirituous  or vinous  tincture or
elixir to be given him under any pretext, for
he must neither see, smell nor taste the poison,
else his first glass will prove  to be literally
" the beginning of damnation."  This should
be impressed upon his mind, as the first and
chief restraint  which your  duty to him  will 
             THE INTEMPERATE.           HI

 impose, and which he must submit to so long
 as the desire remains, else all else will be vain
 and fruitless.   You may fortify his  mind by
 the  assurance  that this sudden abstraction of
 stimulus has never been  known in a single
 instance to destroy life, or injure  the future
 health, and that in a very few days, by total
 abstinence this morbid  craving will begin to
 decline, and the restored vitality,  regain do-
 minion over the disease  which his former hab-
 its have occasioned.
   Having by  persevering acts of kindness,
 gained possession of the recesses of his heart,
 you may cautiously  begin to make advances
 towards his head, still  bearing in  mind, that
 you  have  in charge a frail child of  mortality,
 upon whom disease in its most horrid form has
 done its work.   While  your rigid discipline
 of total abstinence is  enforced, you may ex-
 press your Avish, and urge the importance of
 his compliance by making  an  effort  for  his
 own recovery, now that the way is clear, and
you are at hand to hold  him up  and  assist
him  at every step.  Without such  a friend,
his promise, his  pledge, or his oath would be
mere ropes of sand, however honestly given,
             6 
62
A PLEA FOR
 and however sincerely impelled by the best
 motives.  But  with such a friend, and such
 discipline and  restraint, you may encourage
 him to form a resolution, to express it, and to
 record it, seeing that he now must be convinc-
 ed that the possibility  of  his reformation  de-
 pends  upon his entire and perpetual absti-
 nence from all  intoxicating drinks, during  the
 remainder of his life.
  But in order to success, it is essential that
 he be convinced that his vow must be made
 religiously, in self distrust, but in sure depend-
 ence on divine  assistance.  You may remind
 him that Avhen  there is help no where else,
 there is help in God, and that " earth knows
 no sorrows, that Heaven cannot heal."  And
 by these and the like  means you may pre-
 pare him to give you some proof of his sin-
 cerity,  either by a bond signed, sealed and de-
livered, in due  form of laAv, which  may  be
deposited Avith  a mother, wife, sister or friend,
Avho should be called on  also to sign the
bond with you as witnesses; or what in other
cases maybe preferable, a solemn pledge giv-
 en to you his  friend in confidential secrecy,
 no one else being privy to  its  execution, 
THE INTEMPERATE.
63
and to be  retained by you  as  a testimony
against him if he  should  ever  so  far  forget
himself as to Aiolate it by a single transgress-
ion.
   As both of these methods have been suc-
cessful, either being preferred,  as  the  emer-
gency or extremity of the circumstances de-
manded,  and as  those who have been  made
their depository hold  many such bonds and
pledges,  Ave subjoin  a form for each,  which
may be altered or modified as any individual
case may seem to demand.
   Form of the bond when this  is  preferred :

   This agreement made this    day of
1841,  between A. B.  of the first part, and
C. D. of the second part witnesseth, that A. B.
is  held and bound to C. D. in the folloAving
pledge and obHgation, that from and  after the
date hereof A. B. consents and promises, that
he will not  alloAV  himself, under any pretext
whatever, to drink any form of ardent spirits,
or wine, or porter, or beer, or  cider, or  any'
other intoxicating liquors, (except only the
sacramental use of wine,)  so long as I live.
   The condition of the above  obligation  is 
64(             A PLEA  FOR
such that if the said A. B. shall so far  forget
himself at any time hereafter, as to violate in
a single instance this his voluntary promise,
he Avill promptly confess his sin  to C. D. or
one  of the parties who are witnesses,  and
whose names are hereunto annexed, and again
renew his bond; or failing to do  so,  and to
observe his vow of total abstinence thereafter,
he hereby consents that this  instrument  of
writing may be used and produced as the evi-
dence of his guilt and shame, and a testimony
that  he has broken a solemn vow deliberately
and religiously made; thereby  forfeiting his
sacred honor, by violating an agreement en-
tered into in the presence of God Almighty,
and  witnessed by the friends who with  him
have signed their names.

  In testimony whereof the  said A  B. has
hereunto a^ixed his hand and seal in the pres-
ence of his friend C. D. and other witnesses.
So help him God.
  Witnesses.
     E. F.                    A. B.  [Seal.]
     G. H.                   C. D.  [Seal.]

  Where this bond is adopted, the Avife, pa- 
THE INTEMPERATE.
65
rents, children or nearest friends should wit-
ness it, and Avith one of them it should be de-
posited for safe keeping, and A. B. should be
assured that no one but the parties should ev-
er know  of its existence, and  that assurance
should be sacredly kept.
   In case a pledge is preferred the following
form is suggested.

   In the presence of God Almighty, and in
humble dependence on Him for strength, to
keep  this my vow, I do hereby  solemnly
promise and declare that from and after  this
day, I will not drink one drop  of ardent spir-
its, or wine, or beer, or cider, or any other
intoxicating drink, (except only the  sacra-
mental use of  Avine,) under any pretext what-
ever, so long  as I live, so help me God.

   In witness  hereof, I have hereunto affixed
my hand  and  seal,  this     day of       in
this year of our Lord 1840.
   Witness.
     C. D.                    A. B. [Seal.]

   This pledge, whenever practicable, should
be signed in the presence of some of the near
           6* 
66
A PLEA FOR
 relatives or confidential  friends of the party,
 all of whom should be sacredly bound to
 honorable  secrecy.  And you will often wit-
 ness scenes of thrilling  interest should you
 have the happiness to participate in  the exe-
 cution of these  instruments of  writing—all
 the parties sharing in  the emotions which
 such  occasions inspire.   Tears  of  grateful
joy and hope on  the one hand,  and  those of
 penitence on the  other, will render  your in-
 strumentality in  bringing  about the  consum-
 mation  among the best recompensed of all
 the actions of your life.   And when, as AAill
 most frequently be the case, your efforts are
 crowned with complete success,  and  the sub-
ject of your anxieties and cares is restored to
 his family,  to society, and to his right mind;
 and you are privileged to hear from  his own
lips the  assurance  of conscious  victory, ex-
emplified by radical reformation in  his  life;
then you  will know  the  luxury of doing
good  to  an extent which  an  angel might
envy.
   But  even after you  have prevailed upon
your intemperate neighbor, so far as to ob-
tain  from  him  the bond or pledge  of  total 
THE INTEMPERATE.
67
 abstinence for the remainder of his life, your
 labor of love, your  task of philanthropy, is
 not  yet  complete.   True, you  have acquired
 a  degree of control over his  future course
 which nothing  else could secure; and  you
 have imparted to him  a degree of power for
 self-government to Avhich he has long been a
 stranger.  A  new association  of ideas takes
 place in his mind, and  a  moral revolution is
 consciously felt  Avhen  this deed is done, so
 that his bond is  ever present  in his thoughts.
 But  now he must be soothed, comforted, and
 encouraged; he must be  welcomed to  the
 society of those friends who will not mock
 his infirmity, by using intoxicating drink in
 his presence.   The  past  must be buried in
 everlasting forgetfulness—no allusion being
 made to it  by word or deed.  Let him be
 treated  precisely as though  he had never
 fallen, and  soon your reclaimed  neighbor
 will  feel that he is iimself again, and show
you that he is a man.  His  parents, if they
still  linger on earth, will rejoice that " he
 who was dead, is alive  again," and, like the
man in the Gospel, their joy  will be greater
over this lost  one found, than  over all those 
68
A PLEA FOR
of their children who have never thus strayed.
Has he a wife and children, upon Avhom  his
past conduct has inflicted unutterable  wrong,
and to Avhom he was about to bequeath the
legacy of beggary and shame as their only
inheritance ?—that little family, now  rescued
from such a destiny, will exhibit a revolution
greater than that which is described in fabled
story as the transformation  by the magician's
wand.   And he, himself, who Avas but lately
a moving pestilence,  abhorred of man, ac-
cursed of God, and on the vergeof perdition,
is  now a man, a  gentleman, and often be-
comes a Christian, as  the legitimate result of
the reformation in his opinions  and habits
which this step has occasioned.
  Let  it  not be imagined  that  the  success
which  nas attended multiplied instances  of
this character, in various parts of our coun-
try, is by us ascribed merely to the pledge or
bond, though the reclaimed  man  often views
this instrument  of writing  Avith sentiments
approaching to adoration.    The  mental and
moral revolution of which  he is conscious,
and the fruit of which  is seen in a life of sobri-
ety and steadfastness,  is rather owing to the 
THE INTEMPERATE.
69
circumstances under the impulse of Avhich he
was induced  to form the resolution, and thus
record it, as the only Avay in which he could
give  assurance to himself and others, that,
live or die, he purposed never  to violate it.
Still,  however, in many examples,  we  may
rather attribute  our success  to the state of
mind  and moral sensibility previously super-
induced by looks  and words and acts of  hu-
man  sympathy, in  lieu of  the  censorious
denunciations to  which  they had been  ac-
customed.
  To whatever link in  the  chain of causes
the result may be ascribed, it is certain that
a bond or pledge thus signed, sealed,  and
witnessed,  has been  followed  by a sudden
and thorough reformation, even in cases long
regarded as among the most hopeless.  Some
of these, after years  of steadfastness, have
declared, that from  the moment of having
signed their names, they have found  them-
selves endowed with a mental firmness  and
moral  courage to resist the  temptation to
drink, and have  ever after felt an undying
hatred to every form of intoxicating  liquor.
Others have  expressed their experience by 
70
A PLEA FOR
 declaring that they never after felt any more
 desire for strong drink, even when they saAV
 it before them, than for a razor or  a halter
 when these were in their reach;  or, in other
 words, that they shrunk from the thought of
 drinking  any  intoxicating  liquor  with  the
 same horror as from that of suicide;  and this
 from the moment of signing the bond.
  But it is not our purpose to urge any par-
 ticular form of procedure,  or manifest any
 fastidious preference  for  any  specific  plan.
 Our plea in behalf of the intemperate is, that,
 instead of their  being  abandoned by all, and
 driven to self-abandonment,  they shall be re-
 garded as prisoners of  hope, so long  as they
 are permitted  to live;  and that kindly effort
 and  benevolent  action, with the vieAv to  re-
 cover them, inspired by the confident hope of
their rescue, shall follow them  at every step,
 and  doAvn  to the loAvest pit of their earthly
degradation.   The grounds of our plea have
 been presented at sufficient length in the pre-
ceding pages :—and should they be success-
fully urged upon the public mind, the result
 at which we aim will be most happy to those
multitudes who are now Avithout hope for the 
THE INTEMPERATE.
71
 present world, and for whom there is else no
 hope in the Avorld to come.
   We are prepared here to record our delib-
 erate persuasion, that there is good ground of
 hope for every drunkard in the land, if each
 of them can  have one friend, who is willing
 to admit  our plea, and act  accordingly, by
 devoting himself, or herself, to the work of
 his rescue, in  the spirit of kindness, faithful-
 ness, and self-sacrifice for which we  plead.
 Nor do we believe that there is any founda-
 tion  for hope  in the case of  any drunkard in
 this  nation, unless some one philanthropist
 can  be found  who is willing  to devote him-
 self  to this labor  of love.   We have seen
 that  in the case of  the  habitual drunkard,
 who has passed  the  Rubicon, for him  self-
 extrication is  a  physical impossibility.  The
 laws of his being must be miraculously sus-
pended if left  to  himself, or he will drink  till
he dies.  It is  most true that Divine influence
 would not be withheld if sought by him, even
when his excesses have led his fellow-man to
deny him all mercy, and consign him to de-
spair and  ruin.   But we  have seen that the
poor drunkard has  become disabled and dis- 
72
A PLEA FOR
qualified from availing himself of the provis-
ions of Almighty goodness, and is constrained
to reply to the inquiry " Understandest thou,"
as did the Ethiopian to Philip, " How can 11
except some man guide me."   Indeed, it is
included in the divinely appointed scheme for
the recovery of man from any species of de-
pravity or sin, that human  agency shall be
employed  as the means or instrumentality in
the accomplishment  of the work in every
indiAidual case.  And in the instance of eve-
ry drunkard, we may find at once the  proof
and illustration of this feature in the Divine
economy.
  And can it be that in a  Christian nation,
there are more drunkards, than  Christians 1
Or if this question be ansAvered in the nega-
tive, as it  must be, in candor and truth, we
may be permitted to ask another.  Are there
not numerous drunkards, notoriously  such, for
whom during a series of years, no Christian
has been found, even among his  relatives,  to
make a business of reclaiming him, by devot-
ing himself to  this work ?   Are there not
drunkards by thousands, who have never re-
ceived aught even from Christians, other than 
THE INTEMPERATE.
73
unsparing rebuke, censure, and reproach, in-
stead of the  kind and affectionate tenderness
which Christianity  inspires'?  And may we
not say to such Christians, " Thou art verily
guilty of thy brother's blood."  While we
write at  this  hour, and while the reader may
pause over this page, drunkards are perishing
in our neighborhoods, for whose rescue and
salvation no single  effort  of kindly  affection
has been put forth ; into whose ears no voice
of commiseration has ever uttered a  word of
sympathy;  and  whose  hearts  have  never
been moved by the inspiration of hope, since
they fell  into the  snare of the destroyer.  By
common  consent they have been given up to
their own  way, and Cain-like, we have re-
sponded to the inquiry concerning  our bro-
ther, " Am I my brother's keeper?"  We
may not  like liim have directly inflicted the
blow, which  shed our brother's blood.   But
we may  nevertheless be  " verily guilty" by
allowing him to perish before our eyes, with-
out an effort, when it was in our power  to
save him.  " Ye knew your duty, and ye did
it not."
             7 
74
A PLEA FOR
   There is a chord, which yet vibrates in the
heart, even  of  the  drunken monomaniac.
That chord may be touched  by the love of
kindness, and by this  alone.   It is for lack of
this instrumentality that such multitudes  are
perishing, and  will continue to perish.  Nor
will this love of kindness be either felt or  ex-
hibited, until there shall be inspired into the
public creed and practice, the just and  en-
lightened views for which we are pleading, in
relation to the claims  which such  have upon
the commiseration  of their species.   Multi-
tudes of them are demonstrably " more sinned
against than sinning," and are incurring less
guilt by their present vice, then is merited by
those who so cruelly abandon them to their
fate.  Indeed the poor drunkard is often des-
pised,  discarded, and  anathematized by men
morally worse than he,  who are base enough
to
   " Compound for sins they have a mind  to,
     By damning those they're not inclined to,"

arfd we are often condemned to listen  to un-
sparing obloquy and reproach  upon the poor 
THE INTEMPERATE.
75
fallen drunkard, uttered from the lips of men,
who neither fear God  nor  regard  man, and
whose violations  of the Avhole decalogue are
so flagrant, that if their own crimes  were
Avritten  in  their  foreheads, they Avould  be
driven into exile, by the execration of their
fellow men.  But even this is tolerable com-
pared with the conduct of some  professed
Christians,  who treat  their neighbors, rela-
tives, and even their children, after they have
fallen into  drunkenness, Avith naught but bit-
ter denunciation  and  censoriousness, regard-
ing them  as  unworthy  the interposition of
God or  man for their restoration, as alike be-
yond  the reach of hope, either in  this world
or the next.
   The most attractive  feature of the Tempe-
rance reformation, now in successful progress
through the earth, is found in the demonstra-
tions which are beginning  to be made, that
there is  no state of degradation and infamy
to which human beings can be reduced, even
by drunkenness, Avhich places  them beyond
the reach  of  the instrumentalities now em-
ployed.   While these  pages are in prepara- 
76              A PLEA FOR

tion for the press, in one of our neighboring
cities,  some  hundreds of the most  besotted
victims of intemperance, have  set about re-
forming each other, each helping the other to
do, what neither is able to do for himself, or
by  his single unaided efforts.  The result, as
exemplified in  the recent reA ival of Tempe-
rance in Baltimore, and especially by the in-
strumentality of  the  " Washington  Tempe-
rance Society"  of that city, should annihilate
the incredulity of the most sceptical, and may
be regarded as  designed in the developments
of Divine  Providence, to settle the  question
forever, that no drunkard need despair.  But
even this consummation will be attained more
readily, and the drunken be more easily con-
vinced that for them there is yet hope; than
will the unbelief of some Christians give way
before  the  evidences equally  conclusive, that
we ourselves have no  Avarrant either from
reason or revelation, to despair of any drunk-
ard, while on this side of hell.
  Among  the  examples  of  reformation re-
cently  witnessed in Baltimore, there are found
the young, the middle-aged, and  the gray- 
THE INTEMPERATE.
77
headed;  scores, and even hundreds of each,
who Avere confessedly, and notoriously among
the habitual drunkards.   Some of these have
prostrated their health, and been the repeated
tenants of the Hospital, Infirmary, or Alms-
house, by reason of the " tremors,"." horrors,"
or insanity, which drunkenness had inflicted.
Others had Avasted  their property, beggared
their  families, forfeited  their characters, and
been abandoned by all for years, as vagrants
and vagabonds, until they were reduced to the
last extremity of pauperism  and unutterable
wretchedness.  And yet even such have been
recovered, reclaimed, restored to their right
mind, and this  too  by the very first effort
ever put  forth systematically, in their behalf.
Not until now, did  any messenger " go out
into the  highAvays  and hedges, and compel
them to come in."  They have been literally
" standing in the market-place all  the  day
idle," some of them until the " eleventh hour"
of life has overtaken them; and now to the
first inquiry, " WTry stand ye here all the day
idle ?" they have literally  and truly replied,
" Because no man hath  hired us."   The  first
             7* 
78
A PLEA FOR
 invitation  to go into the vineyard, has met a
 ready response, and  now it is easy for us to
 decide, where the  greater  amount of blame
 lies,—upon the idlers who  are perishing, or
 upon us, who have neglected to afford them
 employment, or in other words, made no effort
 to rescue them.
   What a memorable  reproof is given  to
 Christians  for their indolence and unbelief, by
 the  multiplied proofs  now  furnished,  that
 those whom they have regarded by common
 consent, as incapable of reformation, and un-
 worthy  of an effort;  have nevertheless been
 successfully reached, by those who were but
 yesterday their companions in  drunkenness,
 and this by the first attempt to extend to them
 the helping hand.   They would  have been
 rescued  long  since had  any one  sufficiently
cared for their souls, to adopt the means, and
 employ  the instrumentality Avhich has now
been successful.  The guilt of their continuing
in drunkenness is ours, not theirs.  And who
can fail  to tremble  at the  thought  of how
many " souls  might have  been saved from
death,"  and what " a multitude of sins would 
THE INTEMPERATE.
79
have been covered," if enlightened vieAvs had
prevailed in the public mind, and  all these
sinners "been  converted  from the error of
their ways" long since, as they  might have
been, had the same kind and  degree  of  hu-
man instrumentality been  employed  in  the
work.
  That hundreds of the drunken, and scores
of the most hopeless class, have been reform-
ed in the recent revival in Baltimore,  is mat-
ter of pubhc notoriety.  That this reformation
promises to  be radical and  permanent, Ave
have the evidence of their sobriety  and con-
formity to their vow of total abstinence, for
several months.   Their improved condition,
physically, morally, and socially, added to the
powerful motives of reputation and self re-
spect, the influence of  which they now real-
ize and estimate, all combine to  guarantee
their perseverance.  Beside which the kind-
red spirits with whom they are associated in
mutual auxiliary relations, each sympathizing
with, and aiding one another, inspired by the
same motives, and combining their energies
for the same  end, that of bringing others to 
80
A PLEA FOR
share with them the blessings of temperance,
give still stronger assurance that they will not
hazard the forfeiture of all they have gained
without a desperate struggle.  The vigilance
with which they watch over  themselves, and
each other, for good and not for evil, will also
serve as a barrier against a relapse, since their
hopes and fears, their sympathies  and  dan-
gers, are alike participated in by all.  Under
such a combination of circumstances we have
the best  security for thorough and enduring
reformation, which can  be  furnished by any
merely human agencies.
  But who can doubt that such a reformation
will bring its subjects under the influence of
the instrumentalities of our holy religion from
which their former associations and habits al-
most excluded them ?   Indeed the  facts have
already shown this  desirable  result,  and in-
stances are known in which already the phys-
ical and  moral revolution,  which  has  been
consequent upon their recovery from drunken-
ness, has been followed by a self consecration
to the services, obligation, and duties of per-
sonal religion. 
THE INTEMPERATE.
81
  Could we look into the  domestic circle  of
some such who are known thus to have been
converted to Christianity7, we could  better ap-
preciate the  mighty  change.   A feAv  short
months since, we might have beheld the hag-
gard Aisage, the sunken and tearless eye, the
pale face and withered form of a heart-broken
wife,  driven  to an obscure garret, with her
children clothed in rags, and sharing togeth-
er the morsel of bread which, Avith enfeebled
and exhausted frame,  she was able  to earn  by
her daily and nightly toil. Her husband mean-
while expending the fruit of his labors in the
company of the revelling  and  drunken, and
either absent the livelong  night, or returning
in a state of phrenzy  to add to her sufferings
the cruelty of his abuse, and wring her heart
by some new outrage on her  person  or  her
little ones.
   But, now, how changed the scene.  That
domestic circle might  be seen gathered around
the family altar, of which, the restored hus-
band and father is the officiating priest, and
while their grateful homage is paid to " Our
Father which  art in  heaven,"  all around is 
S2
A PLEA FOR
 health and  contentment,  peace and  plenty.
 Such are the fruits of the reformation of the
 intemperate, and  such would be the happy
 result we might often witness if the course of
 conduct for which we plead, were pursued to-
 wards our drunken neighbors.
   But, alas! such is not the treatment of the
 victims of intemperance,  Avhich can be ex-
 pected, until  the public estimate of such shall
 be revolutionized,  and the idea of their hope-
 lessness no longer finds a place in the public
 creed.   They are shunned and  avoided,  as
 though like the sufferers by the ancient lepro-
 sy, or  the more modern plague, their  pre-
 sence was contagion, and  their very t^uch
 was  death.   Like such they are deemed in-
 curable by human means, and either shut up
 in perpetual exclusion from society and home,
 to perish by neglect;  or  driven into  exile
 from all redeeming associations,  are turned
out into the fields to die, with as little sympa-
thy as  a  worn-out horse, or  superannuated
beast of burden, and Avith as little hope, as is
indulged towards these inferior animals.
   But we plead in their behalf, that they are 
THE INTEMPERATE.
83
men,  fallen men it is true,  degraded  men
physically  and morally diseased, but not  in-
curably so.  There is yet " balm in  Gilead,
and a physician there."  like  the  bitten Is-
raelites they are perishing of the Avounds  in-
flicted by fiery flying serpents, Avhich are ne-
cessarily fatal, if they are let alone; but  there
is a brazen serpent to which  they  may still
look and live.   Their eyelids may be closed,
and  they  may have neither the disposition
nor the ability to open them, but if they still
live, we may raise their drooping eyelids, and
in tones of kindness bid them still, to look and
live.   For as Noah and  his family found a
refuge,  and their only  refuge, in the  Ark,
from the universal deluge by which  the world
was drowned; so may the intemperate find
security in  total abstinence from intoxicating
liquors, and in this alone.
  But while  we would  fain  inspire  these
views and  emotions of compassion and  hope,
in the public mind,  as well as in the hearts of
the intemperate among us; very different  are
the sentiments which  should be felt and ex-
pressed towards the manufacture and sale of 
84
A PLEA FOR
 the drunkard's drink, by  those who continue
 for filthy lucre, to perpetuate the insanity of
 drunkenness, upon all who come within their
 snare.  This trade, and all the laws Avhich li-
 cense its accursed gains, deserve the  execra-
 tion of the species.   And  if the consciences of
 the present race of drunkard-makers continue
 to sleep on, while the ghosts of their murder-
 ed victims " throng  the air, and darken hea-
 ven," and the voice of their brother's blood is
 ever clamoring against them from the graves
 of their customers ; then all who see and feel
 the unutterable curse the trade  is  inflicting,
 should array themselves against the perpetua-
 tion  of the trade, by training up  the rising
 generation with  an undying hatred  for " this
 craft, by which they have their gams."   Let
 our  children,  and  children's   children,  be
 taught to prefer a life of obscurity, toil, and
 penury, to the  " wages of unrighteousness,"
which this traffic yields.   Better beg  their
bread, and die  dependent  on   the  public
 charity in an Almshouse, than incur the awful
 curse of Him, whose throne has  denounced a
" Wo upon him who putteth the bottle to his 
THE INTEMPERATE.
85
neighbor's mouth ;"  even though they might
thereby share in the price of blood, which the
trade  of drunkard-making may yield to all,
who divide the spoils.  Better that they leave
to their  children no other  legacy than " a
good name, better than precious  ointment,"
rather than the wealth of Croesus, acquired by
the ruin of the bodies and souls of thousands,
who have fallen into the drunkard's grave.
   So  also  for the vice  of habitual,  though
moderate  drinking,  the  prolific  source  and
fountain, whence flows  in  one perennial
stream, drunkenness and all  its woes; for
this cause, and only  cause, of the drunkard's
monomania, and  all  the  vices into which in-
sanity  plunges him, and all  the pangs of
wretchedness it inflicts on the innocent wives
and children of its victims; the public heart
should be taught to pour forth naught but the
untranslated  Apostolic  curse,  "  Anathema !
Maranatha!"
   Still, however, we must  be permitted to
plead for the  poor drunkard, who has fallen
by the error of the latter, into the snare of the
former of these classes, and is now the victim 
86     A PLEA FOR THE  INTEMPERATE.

of his own folly and sin.   For him, now that
he is become a monomaniac, we solemnly in-
voke the mercy of earth, and the compassion
of heaven.   Into his desponding heart, let
some  kind hand  pour the oil  and  wine of
commiseration and sympathy, so long as he
is permitted to linger upon  the shores of mor-
tality; and into  his   ear,  let some  friendly
voice  whisper to  the very last, " Brother,
there is hope for thee!" 
 
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