THE WORK OF HEALING AND SAVING.
What, then, is being done in this work of healing and saving? Is there, in fact, any cure for the dreadful malady of drunkenness? Are men ever really saved from its curse? and, if so, how is it done, and what are the agencies employed?
Among the first of these to which we shall refer, is the pledge. As a means of reform and restriction, it has been used by temperance workers from the beginning, and still holds a prominent place. Seeing that only in a complete abstinence from intoxicating drinks was there any hope of rescue for the drunkard, or any security for the moderate drinker, it was felt that under a solemn pledge to wholly abstain from their use, large numbers of men would, from a sense of honor, self-respect or conscience, hold themselves free from touch or taste. In the case of moderate drinkers, with whom appetite is yet under control, the pledge has been of great value; but almost useless after appetite has gained the mastery.
In a simple pledge there is no element of self-control. If honor, self-respect or conscience, rallying to its support in the hour of temptation, be not stronger than appetite, it will be of no avail. And it too often happens that, with the poor inebriate, these have become blunted, or well-nigh extinguished. The consequence has been that where the pledge has been solely relied upon, the percentage of reform has been very small. As a first means of rescue, it is invaluable; because it is, on the part of him who takes it, a complete removal of himself from the sphere of temptation, and so long as he holds himself away from the touch and taste of liquor, he is safe. If the pledge will enable him to do this, then the pledge will save him. But it is well known, from sad experience, that only a few are saved by the pledge. The strength that saves must be something more than the external bond of a promise; it must come from within, and be grounded in a new and changed life, internally as well as externally. If the reformed man, after he takes his pledge, does not endeavor to lead a better moral life—does not keep himself away from old debasing associations—does not try, earnestly and persistently, to become, in all things,