One word in reference to making and observing a _pledge_ for abstinence.
As it respects yourself, it will show a resolute, independent mind, and be deciding the question once for all, and thus supersede the necessity of deciding it a thousand times, when the temptation is offered. It will, moreover, supersede the inconvenience of perpetual warfare with appet.i.te and temptation. And as it respects others, of feebler minds, or stronger appet.i.tes, your _example_ may be immeasurably important.
Mult.i.tudes may thus be secured to a life of sobriety, who, but for this pledge, would never have had the requisite firmness. Your influence may thus extend on the right hand and on the left, and down to future ages; and by such united pledges and efforts, countless mult.i.tudes may be saved from a life of wretchedness, a death of infamy, and an eternity of woe.
But does any one still say, "I will unite in no pledge, because in no danger?" Suppose _you are safe_; have you then no _benevolence_? Are you utterly _selfish_? Think of the bosom now wrung with agony and shame, over a drunken husband, or father, or brother. And have you no _pity_?
Think of the millions of hopes, for both worlds, suspended on the success of the temperance cause. And will you do nothing to speed its triumph?
Do you say, your influence is of no account? It was one "poor man" that saved a "little city," when a "great king besieged it." Another saved a "great city," when the anger of Jehovah was provoked against it. Small as your influence may be, you are accountable to G.o.d and your country; and your finger may touch some string that shall vibrate through the nation.
But are you conscious of possessing talent? Then rally the circle of your acquaintance, and enlist them in the sacred cause. And do you save a little by abstinence? Then _give_ a little to extend the benign influence. What youth cannot, at least, circulate a few Tracts, and perhaps enlist as many individuals? And who can estimate the endless influence of those individuals, or their capacity for rising with you in celestial splendor?
But have you wealth, or power with the pen? Then speak by ten thousand tongues: send winged messengers through the city, the country, the town, the village, the harbor; and thus may you enjoy _now_ the highest of all luxuries--the luxury of _doing good_. And, at the same time, trusting in HIM who came from the abodes of light, "to seek and save the lost," you may secure _durable riches_ in that world, where, saith the Scripture, neither _covetous_, nor _drunkards_, nor extortioners, nor revilers, nor the _slothful_, nor mere _lovers of pleasure_, nor _any thing that defileth_, shall ever enter; but where THEY THAT BE WISE shall shine forth as the brightness of the firmament for ever and ever.
When these opposite characters and their changeless destinies are _seriously_ weighed, none, surely, can hesitate which to prefer. But, "what thou doest, do quickly."
NOTE.--A premium of fifty dollars, offered by a friend, was awarded to the author of this Tract.
PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY.
ALARM TO DISTILLERS.
BY REV. BAXTER d.i.c.kINSON, D. D.
The art of turning the products of the earth into a fiery spirit was discovered by an _Arab_, about nine hundred years ago. The effects of this abuse of nature"s gifts were soon viewed with alarm. Efforts were made, even by a heathen people, to arrest the evil; and it shows the mighty agency and cunning of Satan, that Christian nations should ever have been induced to adopt and encourage this deadliest of man"s inventions. In the guilt of encouraging the destructive art, our own free country has largely partic.i.p.ated. In the year 1815, as appears from well-authenticated statistics, our number of distilleries had risen to nearly _forty thousand_; and, until within a few years past, the progress of intemperance threatened all that was fair and glorious in our prospects. The reformation recently commenced is one of the grandest movements of our world; and to secure its speedy triumph, the concurrence of distillers is obviously indispensable. They must cease to provide the destroying element. This they are urged to do by the following considerations:
1. The business of distilling _confers no benefits on your fellow-men_.
Ardent spirit is not needed as an article of living. In the first ages of the world, when human life was protracted to hundreds of years, it was unknown. By the first settlers of this country it was not used. It was scarcely used for a whole century. And those temperate generations were remarkably robust, cheerful, and enterprising. To this we may add, that several hundred thousand persons, accustomed to use it, have given it up entirely within a few years past; and their united testimony is, that they have made no sacrifice either of health, or strength, or any real comfort. Indeed few, if any, except such as have the intemperate appet.i.te, will now seriously contend that distilled liquor is necessary or useful. The little that may perhaps be desirable as medicine, might be made by the apothecary, or the physician.
The talents G.o.d has given you _might_ be applied to advance the welfare of your fellow-men. It is your duty--your highest _honor_--thus to apply them. And on the bed of death, in near prospect of the judgment, it will surely be a melancholy reflection that, as regards the happiness of mankind, your life has been an utter _blank_.
2. The business of distilling is not only useless, but _is the occasion of many and great evils_. Recent examination has developed a number of appalling facts, which few, if any, pretend to question. It is admitted that the use of ardent spirit has been a tax on the population of our country, of from _fifty to a hundred millions of dollars_ annually. It is admitted that three-fourths of all the _crimes_ of the land result from the use of intoxicating liquor. It is admitted that at least three-fourths of all the sufferings of _poverty_ arise from the same source. It is admitted that upwards of _thirty thousand_ of our citizens have annually descended to the _drunkard"s grave_. It is admitted, by those who believe the Bible, that _drunkards shall not inherit eternal life_, but must _have their part in the lake that burneth with fire and brimstone_. In a word, it is admitted that health, fortune, social happiness, intellect, conscience, heaven, are all swept away by the tide of intemperance.
And now, what you are specially bound to ponder is, that this burning tide, with all its desolations, flows from those very fountains _you_ have opened--the boiling flood can be perpetuated only by those fires which _your_ hands kindle, and which it is your daily task to tend.
The position you occupy, then, is one of most fearful responsibility.
You are directly and peculiarly accessary to a degree of guilt and misery which none but the infinite mind can comprehend. I hear for you a loud remonstrance from every court of justice, from every prison of collected crime, from every chamber of debas.e.m.e.nt, and from every graveyard, as well as from the dark world of despair. I hear the cries of unnumbered mothers, and widows, and orphans, all with one voice imploring you to extinguish those fires, to dry up those fountains, and to abandon an occupation pregnant with infamy, and death, and perdition.
3. The business of distilling _destroys, to a great extent, the bounties of Providence_. Many of the substances converted into ardent spirit are indispensable to the comfort of man--some of them the very staff of life. But the work of distillation not only destroys them as articles of food, but actually converts them to poison. An incalculable amount of grain, and tens of thousands of hogsheads of sugar and mola.s.ses, besides enormous quant.i.ties of other useful articles, are every year thus wickedly perverted in this Christian land. Who does not know the odious fact that, in many places, the _distillery_ has regulated the price of bread? Who does not know that this engine of iniquity has at times so consumed the products of industry as to make it difficult for the poorer cla.s.ses to get a supply? "The poor we have always with us;" and cries of the suffering are often heard from other lands. Such facts, it would seem, might reach the conscience of all who are wantonly destroying Heaven"s gifts. Can you, for a little selfish gain, persist in converting the bread of mult.i.tudes into pestilential fire? How utterly unlike the example of Him who, while feeding thousands by miracle, could still say, "Gather up the fragments which remain, that nothing be lost."
4. By continuing this destructive business, _you greatly offend the virtuous and respectable part of the community_. The temperance reformation has been commenced and prosecuted by enlightened men. It is not the enterprise of any political party or religious sect. It has the general support of ministers and Christians of different denominations, of statesmen, judges, lawyers, physicians, and hundreds of thousands in the walks of private life. They regard the enterprise as one, on the success of which hang the liberties of our republic and the happiness of future millions.
You cannot be surprised, then, that they look with pain on operations directly adapted to defeat their plans, and perpetuate the dread evil they deplore. You cannot suppose that their eye will light on the _fountains_ of this mighty evil but with inexpressible grief, disgust, and indignation. And if you have the common magnanimity of our nature, you will surely cease to outrage the feelings of the virtuous throughout the nation.
5. You pursue a pernicious calling, _in opposition to great light_. The time was when good men extensively engaged in the distilling business, and when few seemed to be aware of its fearfully mischievous tendency.
The matter had not been a subject of solemn and extensive discussion.
The sin was one of comparative ignorance. But circ.u.mstances have changed. Inquiry has thrown upon the community a flood of light. The evil of intemperance has been exhibited in its complicated horrors.
Ardent spirit has been found to be not only useless, but fearfully destructive; so that the guilt of manufacturing it is now enormously aggravated.
Good men were once engaged in importing slaves. They suspected not the iniquity of the business; and an apology can be offered for them, on the ground of ignorance. But their trade has now come to be regarded by the civilized world in the same odious light as piracy and murder. The man who engages in it is stamped with everlasting infamy. And the reason is, that, like the distiller, he now sins amid that fulness of light which an age of philanthropy has poured around him.
6. Perseverance in the business of distilling _must necessarily be at the expense of your own reputation and that of your posterity_. You are creating and sending out the materials of discord, crime, poverty, disease, and intellectual and moral degradation. You are contributing to perpetuate one of the sorest scourges of our world. And the scourge can never be removed till those deadly fires you have kindled are all put out. That public sentiment which is worthy of respect calls upon you to extinguish them. And the note of remonstrance will wax louder and louder till every smoking distillery in the land is demolished. A free and enlightened people cannot quietly look on while an enemy is working his engines and forging the instruments of national bondage and death.
Without a prophet"s vision, I foresee the day when the manufacture of intoxicating liquor, for common distribution, will be cla.s.sed with the arts of counterfeiting and forgery, and the maintenance of houses for midnight revelry and corruption. Like these, the business will become a work only of darkness, and be prosecuted only by the outlaw.
Weigh well, then, the bearing of your destructive employment on personal and family _character_. The employment may secure for you a little gain, and perhaps wealth. But, in a day of increasing light and purity, you can never rid treasures, thus acquired, of a _stigma_, which will render him miserably poor who holds them. Upon the dwelling you occupy, upon the fields you enclose, upon the spot that entombs your ashes, there will be fixed an indescribable gloom and odiousness, to offend the eye and sicken the heart of a virtuous community, till your memory shall perish. Quit, then, this vile business, and spare your name, spare your family, spare your children"s children such insupportable shame and reproach.
7. By prosecuting this business _in a day of light and reform, you peculiarly offend G.o.d, and jeopard your immortal interests_. In "times of ignorance," G.o.d, in a sense, "winked at" error. But let the error be persisted in under a full blaze of light, and it must be the occasion of a dread retribution from his throne.
The circ.u.mstances of the distiller are now entirely changed. His sin was once a sin of ignorance, but is such no longer. He _knows_ he is taking bread from the hungry, and perverting the bounties of Providence. He _knows_ he is undermining the very pillars of our republic. He _knows_ that, by distilling, he confers no benefits upon mankind. He _knows_ he is directly accessory to the temporal wretchedness and the endless wailing of mult.i.tudes. And knowing these things, and keeping on his way, he acc.u.mulates guilt which the Holy One cannot overlook. If endless exclusion from heaven be the drunkard"s doom, can _he_ be held guiltless who deliberately prepared for him, and perhaps placed in his hand, the cup of death and d.a.m.nation? This is not the decision either of Scripture or of common sense. Wilfully persevering to furnish the sure means of death, you carry to the judgment the murderer"s character as clearly as the midnight a.s.sa.s.sin.
And now, what is the APOLOGY for prosecuting a business so manifestly offensive to G.o.d, and ruinous to yourself, as well as others? Do you say, _It is necessary as a means of support_? But whence have you derived authority to procure a living at the sacrifice of conscience, character, and the dearest interests of others? And is the maintenance of a _public nuisance_ really necessary to your support? In a country like this, the plea of necessity for crime is glaringly impious. Many and varied departments of honest and honorable industry are before you, all promising a generous reward; and, neglecting them for a wicked and mischievous occupation, you must bear the odium of a most sordid avarice, or implacable malignity.
You virtually, too, impeach the character of G.o.d. You proclaim that he has made your comfort, and even subsistence, to depend upon the practice of iniquity. It is an imputation he must repel with abhorrence and wrath. Nor is it sustained by the conscience, reason, or experience of any man.
But possibly you urge, in self-justification, _Others will manufacture spirit, if I do not_. But remember, the guilt of one is no excuse for another. "Every one of us shall give account of _himself_ to G.o.d." If others pursue a business at the sacrifice of character and of heaven, it becomes you to avoid their crime, that you may escape their doom.
It is not certain, however, that others will prosecute the destructive business, if you abandon it. Men of fore-thought will not now embark their silver and gold on a pestilential stream, soon to be dried up under that blaze of light and heat which a merciful G.o.d has enkindled.
They will not deem it either wise or safe to kindle unholy and deadly fires where the pure river of the water of life is so soon to overflow.
In the eye of thousands, the distillery on your premises adds nothing to their value. Indeed, should they purchase those premises, the filthy establishment would be demolished as the first effort of improvement.
And every month and hour is detracting from its value, and blackening the curse that rests upon it.
Let the thousands now concerned in distilling at once put out their fires, and the act would cause one general burst of joy through the nation; and any effort to rekindle them would excite an equally general burst of indignation and abhorrence. None but a monster of depravity would ever make the attempt.
But again, perhaps you say, _No one is obliged to use the spirit that is made_. But remember, that you make it only to be used. You make it with the desire, with the hope, with the expectation that it will be used.
You know it has been used by thousands--by millions--and has strewed the land with desolation, and peopled h.e.l.l with its victims; and you cannot but acknowledge that you would at once cease to make the liquor, did you not _hope it would continue to be used_. Indeed, you must see that _just in proportion to your success_ will be the amount of mischief done to your fellow-men.
It seems hardly needful to say that the foregoing considerations are all strictly applicable to SUCH AS FURNISH THE MATERIALS for the distiller.
Were these withheld, his degrading occupation would of course cease. By suffering, then, the fruits of your industry to pa.s.s into his hands, you perpetuate his work of death. You share all his guilt, and shame, and curse. And remember, too, that the bushel of grain, the barrel of cider, the hogshead of mola.s.ses, for which you thus gain a pittance, may be returned from the fiery process only to hasten the infamy and endless ruin of a beloved son, or brother, or friend.
Nor is the crime of the RETAILER of ardent spirit essentially different. He takes the poison from the distiller, and insidiously deals it out to his fellow-men. It is truly stirring to one"s indignation to notice his variety of artifice for rendering it enticing. His occupation is one which the civil authorities have, in some places, with a n.o.ble consistency, ceased to tolerate; and one which must soon be put down by the loud voice of public sentiment.
Indeed, the _retailer_, the _distiller_, and he who _furnishes the materials_, must be looked upon as forming a TRIPLE LEAGUE, dangerous alike to private and social happiness, and to the very liberties of the nation. And an awakened people cannot rest till the deadly compact is sundered. Why not, then, antic.i.p.ate a little the verdict and the vengeance of a rising tone of public sentiment, and at once proclaim the _unholy alliance_ dissolved? Why not antic.i.p.ate the verdict of an infinitely higher tribunal--why not believe G.o.d"s threatening, and escape the eternal tempest that lowers for _him who putteth the cup to his neighbor"s lips_? Why not cooperate promptly in a public reform that is regarded with intense interest in heaven, on earth, and in h.e.l.l?
O review, as men of reason, and conscience, and immortality, this whole business. And if you have no ambition to _benefit your fellow-men_--if you can consent _to ruin many for both worlds_--if you can persist in _wasting and perverting the bounties of a kind Providence_--if you can outrage the feelings of the most _enlightened and virtuous_--if you can pursue a work of darkness _amid noonday light_--if you can sacrifice a _good name_, and entail _odium on all you leave_--and if you can deliberately _offend G.o.d_, and jeopard _your immortal interests_ for paltry gain, then go on--go on a little longer; but, "O MY SOUL, COME NOT THOU INTO THEIR SECRET; UNTO THEIR a.s.sEMBLY, MINE HONOR, BE NOT THOU UNITED."
NOTE.--A premium, offered by a friend of temperance, was awarded to the author of this Tract.
PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY.