THE SIN OF INTEMPERANCE
By H. F. Phelps
GOD'S OBJECT LESSONS. NO. 4.
"The brain dances to the maddened bowl.
In the flowers that wreathe the sparkling bowl,
Frail adders hiss, and poisonous serpents roll." INTEMPERANCE is just about as old as the human race. Man has yielded himself to the demands of appetite, and become its willing slave, till it has become the curse of the world. T. De Witt Talmage says that Noah introduced intemperance. It seems to me that appetite set up its claims in Eden, as Eve took a glance at the forbidden fruit; and intemperance began as soon as she ate it. There began the first rippling wave of the curse that has been the scourge of all ages. There began the drunkard's "tramp! tramp! tramp!" and the march has been moving on, on, on, towards eternal ruin, the ranks once broken, always filled by willing recruits from the ranks of moderate drinking. Not only have the ranks been filled up as each succeeding generation has passed by, but the armies of hell have increased in an appalling ratio as the ages have flown by. And still the demon moves on with ever-increasing power, carrying want, and misery, and woe, and death, and eternal destruction in its wake. Who can tell the history of that first sin? The plucking of that fruit was the death-knell of the human race. Noah made the wine and drank it, and shame followed, as it always has and always will. In all succeeding ages, it has been known that sweet liquids would ferment, and if drank, would produce intoxication. Solomon knew its effects. He said that it was a mocker and a deceiver. Isaiah was familiar with its effects. He says, "The earth shall reel to and fro like a drunkard." Coming down the ages one thousand years this side of Christ, and the art of distillation was discovered, and this has added fuel to the flames. But it was seemingly left for the men of this age, this enlightened age, the age of improvement and invention, the age when it is expected the millennium is about to dawn—I say it is these men, this generation, that have added demon to demon, poison to poison, fire to the already fiery fluid. Just for a moment look at what is added to that abomination to make it more abominable, to that fire to make it more fiery, to that fiend to make it more fiendish,—capsicum, copperas, logwood, deadly nightshade, vitriol, opium, sulphuric acid, potash, and cochineal! No wonder that those who drink see armies of hissing serpents, and fiends standing ready to devour! No wonder that their brain runs wild! But stop! something else is poured into that maddening cup! It is the tears of mothers, of orphaned children, of broken-hearted sisters and wives! And blood! yes, blood! the blood of millions! Oh, what a drink! And there is more of this damnable liquid drank to-day than ever before. It is more poisonous, more murdering, more destructive, and the death-grasp of the demon more relentless, and the appetite more powerful to destroy, and the victim has less and less power to resist, if inclined, and all such inclinations are more and more feeble. More drunkards, more widows, more orphans, more broken hearts, and more tears are to be added to this drink, and more drunkards' graves made every year than ever before.259It takes more than a billion of dollars every year of the people's hard-earned money to care for the 800,000 paupers that rum has made, and the 315,000 criminals, made so by strong drink, and the 30,000 idiots, brought into this world by drunken parents, and to bury the 75,000 drunkards who fill newly-made graves, who might have lived to bless the world if it had not been for strong drink. Talk about the millennium! At this rate, add a few hundred years, and instead of the millennium, every home would be turned into a drunkard's home, and the earth itself into a hell. And this is not all. As if to cheat the truest saint and lure him on to hell, comes the patent medicine vender with his bitters—bitters of every kind and name, bitters to cure every ailment to which flesh is heir, soothe every pain, renew to youthfulness old age; and the temperance man and the temperance advocate will take these so-called temperance bitters, and—drink!—and many have drank themselves into a drunkard's grave. Once on the road, once enter the stream, once join the army, and there is no let-up, there is no furlough, there is no reprieve, only in total abstinence, only in Christ. But where are the object lessons? Answer—Everywhere,—from the expulsion from the garden of Eden; from Noah in his shame; from Lot in his incestuous act with his daughters; from the sons of Aaron, who were destroyed by fire from God, to show his utter abhorrence of drunkenness; from the words of Christ, and prophets, and apostles, in words of warning and reproof and admonition; yes, from the day that Eden was barred against our first parents, to the long fast of Christ in the wilderness. The Bible is full of object lessons, all speaking with one voice. And the death-tramp of the 75,000 who annually fill drunkards' graves, appeals to us in a voice louder than thunder, that "wine is a mocker, strong drink is raging; and whosoever is deceived thereby is not wise." Who will heed the lesson?