To this end you are charged to “abstain from fleshly lusts, which war against the soul;” to “mortify your members, which are earthly;” to “exercise yourselves rather unto godliness;” to “be kindly affectioned towards all men.” But who does not know that “strong drink,” not only “eats out the brain,” but “taketh away the heart,” diminishes “natural affection,” and deadens the moral sensibilities, while it cherishes those very passions which the Holy Spirit condemns? And how can one aspiring to the divine image, drink that which thus tends to destroy all that is pure, spiritual, and lovely, while it kindles the very elements of hell?
The use of such liquor is utterly inconsistent with any thing like high spiritual enjoyment, clear spiritual views, or true devotion. A sense of shame must inevitably torment the professor who in such a day cannot resist those “fleshly lusts which war against the soul;” his brethren will turn from him in pity or disgust; and, what is infinitely more affecting, the Holy Spirit will not abide with him. Thus, without an approving conscience, without cordial Christian intercourse, without the smiles of the Comforter, how can he enjoy religion?
Abstinence from highly stimulating liquor or food has ever been regarded indispensable to that serenity of soul and clearness of views so infinitely desirable in matters of religion. Hence, the ministers of religion especially, were commanded not to touch any thing like strong drink when about to enter the sanctuary. Lev. 10:9. And this, it is added, shall be a statute for ever throughout your generations; that ye may put difference between holy and unholy; clearly showing God’s judgment of the effect of temperance on spiritual discernment.
On the principle of abstinence we may account, in part, for that holy ecstasy, that amazing clearness of spiritual vision, sometimes enjoyed on the deathbed. “Administer nothing,” said the eloquent dying Summerfield, “that will create a stupor, not even so much as a little porter and water—that I may have an unclouded view.” For the same reason, Dr. Rush, who so well knew the effect of strong drink, peremptorily ordered it not to be given him in his last hours. And it is recorded, that the dying Saviour, “who knew all things,” when offered “wine mingled with myrrh,” “received it not.” The truly wise will not barter visions of glory for mere animal excitement and mental stupefaction.
Equally illustrative of our principle is the confession of an aged deacon, accustomed to drink moderately: “I always, in prayer, felt a coldness and heaviness at heart—never suspecting it was the whiskey! but since that is given up, I have heavenly communion!” O, what an increase of pure light and joy might there be, would all understand this, and be temperate in all things.
The use of such liquor is inconsistent with the sacred order and discipline of the church. A venerable minister, of great experience, gives it as the result of his observation, that nine-tenths of all the cases calling for church discipline have in former years been occasioned by this liquor. This is a tremendous fact. But a little examination will convince any one that the estimate is not too high. And can it be right to continue an indulgence that brings tenfold, or even fourfold more trouble and disgrace on the church than all other causes united? Do not these foul “spots in your feasts of charity” clearly say, “Touch not the unclean thing?” Can we countenance that which is certain to bring deep reproach on the church of Christ? “It must needs be that offences come, but woe to that man by whom the offence cometh.”
The use of alcoholic liquor by the religious community is inconsistent with the hope of reforming and saving the intemperate; and thus shows a want of love to souls. The Christian knows, that drunkards cannot inherit eternal life. He knows also, that hundreds of thousands now sustain or are contracting this odious character; and that if the evil be not arrested, millions more will come on in the same track, and go down to the burning gulf. But the man who drinks just so much as to make himself “feel well,” cannot reprove the drunkard who only does the same thing. The drunkard may say to him, “My appetite is stronger than yours; more, therefore, is necessary, in order to make me ‘feel well;’ and if you cannot deny yourself, how can I control a more raging appetite?” This rebuke would be unanswerable.
All agree that total abstinence is the only hope of the drunkard. But is it not preposterous to expect him to abstain, if he sees the minister, the elder, the deacon, and other respectable men indulging their cups? With mind enfeebled and character lost, can he summon resolution to be singular, and live more temperately than his acknowledged superiors?—thus telling to all that he has been a drunkard! This cannot be expected of poor sunken human nature. No; let moderate drinking be generally allowed, and in less than thirty years, according to the past ratio of their deaths, armies of drunkards greater than all the American churches, will go from this land of light and freedom to “everlasting chains of darkness.” If, then, the drunkard is worth saving, if he has a soul capable of shining with seraphim, and if you have “any bowels of mercies,” then give him the benefit of your example. Professing to “do good to all as you have opportunity,” be consistent in this matter. By a little self-denial you may save multitudes from ruin. But if you cannot yield a little, to save fellow-sinners from eternal pain, have you the spirit of Him who, for his enemies, exchanged a throne for a cross?
Could all the wailings of the thousand thousands slain by this poison come up in one loud thunder of remonstrance on your ear, you might then think it wrong to sanction its use. But “let God be true,” and those wailings are as real as if heard in ceaseless thunders.
Again, the use of intoxicating drink is inconsistent with true Christian patriotism. All former efforts to arrest the national sin of intemperance have failed. A glorious effort is now making to remove it with pure water. Thousands are rejoicing in the remedy. Not a sober man in the nation really doubts its efficacy and importance. Who, then, that regards our national character, can hesitate to adopt it? Especially, who that is a Christian, can cling to that which has darkened the pathway of heaven, threatened our liberties, desolated families and neighborhoods, and stigmatized us as a “nation of drunkards?”