Temperance by L. R. S.

Seventh-day Adventist Missionary Society · Oakland, California · Jun 15, 1882

Temperance.

By L. R. S.

Must Reap What he Sows.

The beautiful Antietam rises in the cold, rocky heights of the South Mountain, in Southern Pennsylvania. On the banks of this historic stream, many years ago, stood a large but old-fashioned mansion house. The land around it was the richest in the Cumberland Valley, and the grounds and buildings indicated wealth and comfort. The family was of German origin, but far more progressive and liberal than most of their neighbors. On their tables could be seen books and papers, and the facilities for study. The large family of children were industrious and refined, and withal so tenderly attached to each other that they formed the model family of the community. Everything gave the appearance of comfort and happiness, but one little fact—too well known—the father drank and advocated it at home and abroad; and yet he was only a moderate drinker, never known to be drunk, and generally did his drinking at home and before his own children.

The boys grew up under this influence, and under his repeated statement that "he despised a man who could not occasionally take a glass and not be a drunkard," and yet they were so manly and withal so careful that they refused to give way to the habits and influence of their own father.

One day a great company gathered at the marriage of the eldest daughter. It was a joyous occasion, and the choicest liquors were placed on the table, and their age and fine flavor loudly praised. The oldest son, one of the most noble boys I ever met, then just entering manhood, yielded to the fascinating occasion, and drank of the tempting cup. Little more was thought of it till in a few short years he, too, stood beside the altar and was united to a lovely woman, and the occasion was so joyous that he drank again. When he was settled in his own home he must have his own side-board like his father, and he soon began to drink steadily, and drank deeply. His devoted wife wept and prayed and pleaded, but only to find that his solemn vows were broken. His father, awakening at last to the fearful reality, came to talk with his beloved boy, but only to learn the awful fact that it was his example and his words that had started him to ruin. Soon he was called to sit beside him, foaming in delirium tremens, and during the long dark night, amid screams and prayers and curses, he tried to pacify him. Then he thought it all over; what an example he had set, how often he had declared that he despised a man that could not take an occasional glass and not be a drunkard. As he looked backward on the past, he could realize as never before, that during all those years he had been sowing a fearful crop, and now he must reap it all, though it brought the tears and even the blood. His words and acts had all taken root, and he must reap in sorrow and shame the accursed crop. Then he looked forward to the death of his boy, that came so soon, and to the crop that he must reap of eternal shame. "Whatsoever a man soeth that shall he also reap." Jacob had to reap the crop of deception and lying, even from his own sons. David had to reap his own crop of shame and death in the bosom of his family. Saul of Tarsus had to reap the crop of persecution, chains, and imprisonment, even though he became the very chiefest apostle. And think not, oh young man, that thou canst change the law of our nature, or avoid the penalty that we must reap whatsoever we sow.—L. R. S., in Sabbath Recorder.