"For a day or two Jones has been sick, but he drinks all the time, he is awake; and I fear he will be wild to-night. It makes me sick at heart to think of him. He has some noble traits; but rum, rum, has changed him from a kind husband and a tender father into a creature worse than a brute."
Tuesday, July 7th.
About midnight a messenger came for the Doctor to hasten to Jones. The watchers could do nothing with him. He raved and swore that devils were at the foot of the bed, waiting to catch his soul, and carry it to hell. Frank went at once and did not return until near daylight. At breakfast, he relieved my anxiety for the sick child, by saying, she had been removed to a room in the other part of the house, and was now much better. But Thomas, he said, had passed a dreadful night. He had seemed to suffer the torments of the lost. He enumerated his sins from his childhood, disobedience to his parents, Sabbath breaking, profanity, intemperance, and almost every form of iniquity. These came up to his remembrance with the distinctness of the judgment. Then he told how he had turned from the Saviour, refused His offers of mercy, quenched the Spirit's influence, ruined his own soul, and the souls of his wife and children, all, ALL for RUM!!
This he screamed out; and when those around tried to soothe him, he said that he would scream so loud that every drunkard in town could hear. "If ten thousand devils pursue me," shrieked the insane man, "I will warn all to beware of RUM!!"
His attendants listened in wonder, and even Frank was astonished, as he had never heard him talk in this way before. Nor could he understand it until this morning, when Mrs. Jones told him that they had been to hear the new minister preach; and it appears their consciences had been aroused by his faithful presentation of truth.
Afternoon.
As Frank would not consent to my visiting little Susan, I contented myself with making her some nice porridge which Ann carried to her. My husband came in soon after, and told me two men could not hold Thomas in bed; and they had been obliged to confine his arms. He knows no one but his physician; and this afternoon appealed to him in a hoarse whisper, "take them off," pointing to the men who stood at the side of the bed. "Oh, hide me! Hide me! they tear my soul!"
The Doctor motioned them out of sight, and tried to soothe him. "Thomas," said he in a calm voice, "do you remember when you and I went to the Sabbath school?"
"Yes, oh yes!" gasped the poor fellow.
"Where did Mr. Goodrich tell us to flee for safety?" Thomas looked up eagerly, but made no reply.