The Spiritual Effects of Drunkenness.

Waikato Times, Volume XXII, Issue 1848, 10 May 1884, Page 2 (Supplement)

The Spiritual Effects of Drunkenness.

The cnrse of drunkenness, on the side of its physical devastations, has been abundantly depicted by the advooate3 of the temperance reform. The amount of grain consumed in the manufacture of intoxicating liquors ; the number of men whose labour is worse than i wasted in producing and in vending them ; the number of lives destroyed by them ; the number of paupers and insane persons whose woes are traceable to this source ; the effects upon the health of individuals of the habitual use of intoxicants, — all these things are frequently set forth with sufficient fullaess in impressive rhetoric Some allowances must be made for the over-statement of zealous advocates ; but there are facts enough, of an appalling nature, in these representations, to call for the most serious thought. But the worst side of drunkenness is not that which appears in these familiar figures. The most frightful effeotß of the drink-habit are not those whioh can be tabulated in statistics and reported in the census. It is not the waste of corn, nor the destruction of property, nor the increase of taxes, nor even the ruin of physical health, nor the loss of life, which most impresses the mind of the thoughtful observer of inebrity. It is the j effect of this vice upon the characters of men, as it is exhibited to him, day by day, in his ordinary intercourse with them. It is in the spiritual realm that the ravages of strong drink are most terrible. Body and mind are so closely related that when the one suffers the other must share the suffering; and the injury of the physical health resulting from intemperate drinking must, therefore, be accompanied by similar injury of the mental and moral powerß. But the inclination of the popular thought is so strongly toward the investigation of physical phenomena, that the spiritual consequence of drunkenness are often overlooked. Degeneration of tissue is more palpable than degeneracy of spirit; a lesion of the brain more startling than a breaoh of faith; but the deeper fact, of which the senses take no note, is the more important fact ; and it would be well if the attention of men could be fixed upon it. The phenomena to whioh we have referred often report themselves to the quickened perceptions of those who stand nearest to the habitual drinker. Many a mother observes, ! with a heart that grows heavier day by day, the signs of moral decay in the character of her son. It is not the flushed face and the heavy eyes that trouble her most ; it is the evidence that his mind is becoming duller and fouler, his sensibilities less acute, his sense of honour less commanding. She discovers that his loyalty to truth is somewhat impaired ; that he deoeives her frequently, without compunction. This effeot is often observed in the character of the inebriate. Truthfulness ia the. fundamental virtue ; when it is impaired the character is undermined; and strong drink makes a deadly assault upon it. Coupled with this loss of truthfulness is that weakening of the will which always accompanies chronic alcoholism. The man loses, little by little, the mastery over himself ; the regal faculties are in chains. How many of his broken promises are due to a debilitated will, and how many to a deoay of his veraoiousness, it would be impossible for the victim himself to determine. Doubtless his intention to break off his evil habit is sometimes honest, and the failure is due to the paralysis of his will ; doubtless he often asseverates that such is his purpose at the moment when he is contriving how he shall obtain the next dram. It is pitiful to mark the gradual decay of these prime elements of manliness in the character of the man who is

addicted to strong drink. The loss of self-respect, the lowering of ambition, and the fading out of hope are signs of the progress of this disease in the character. It is a mournful spectacle — that of the brave, ingenious, high-spirited man sinking steadily down into the degradation of inebriety ; but how many such spectacles are visible all over the land 1 And it is not in the character of those alone who are notorious drunkards that such tendencies appear. They are often distinctly seen in the lives of men who are never drunk. Sir Henry Thompson's testimony is emphatic to the effect that " the habitual use of fermented liquors, to an extent far short of what is necessary to produce intoxication, injures the body and diminishes the mental power." If, as he testifies, a large proportion of the most painful and dangerous maladies of the body are due to " the use of fermented liquors, taken in the quantity -which is conventionally deemed moderate," then it is certain that such use of them mast result also in serious injuries to the mental and moral nature. Who does not know reputable gentlemen, physicians, artists, clergymen even, who were never drunk in their lives, and never will be, but who reveal, in conversation and in conduct, certain melancholy effects of the drinking habit ? The brain is so often inflamed with alcohol that its functions are imperfectly performed ; and there is a perceptible loss of mental power and of moral tone. The drinker is not conscious of this loss; but those who know him best are painfully aware that his perceptions are less keen, his judgments less sound, his temper less serene, his spiritual vision less clear, because he tarries every day a little too long at the wine. Even those who refuse to entertain ascetio theories respecting these beverages may be able to see that there are uses of them that stop short of drunkenness, and that are still extremely Hurtful to the mind and heart as well as the body. That conventional idea of moderation, to which Sir Henry Thompson refers, is quite elastic ; the term is stretched to cover habits that are steadily despoiling the life of the rarest fruits. The drinking habit is often defended by reputable gentlemen to whom the very thought of a debauch would be shocking, i but to whom, if it ware only lawful, in the tender and juat solicitude of friendship, each 1 words as th«ffl might , be spokpn ;/' Jtcis fcrq;e, that you *m not 1 :druttk»r&^

be ; but if you could know, vrhat is too evident to those who love yoa best, how yonr character ia slowly losing the firmness of its texture and the fineness of its outline ; how your art deteriorates in the delicacy of its touch; how the atmosphere of yonr life seems to gTow murky and the sky lowers gloomily above you, — you would not think your daily indulgence harmless in its measure. It is in jußfc such lives as your« that drink exhibits some of its most mournful tragedies." — The Century.