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It is a privilege to believe that the worst scenes of prison life are not found in the United States. Consider this case, reported in an English journal, The Ragged-School Magazine: "D. F., aged about fourteen. Mother dead several years; father a drunkard, and deserted him about three years ago. Has since lived as he best could, sometimes going errands, sometimes begging and thieving.
"Does my lady know my brother Ivan?" "Yes." "We must tell him all." "Of what are you thinking?" cried Vaninka. "To confide in a man? A man, do I say? A serf! a slave!" "The lower the position of the serf and slave, the safer will our secret be, since he will have everything to gain by keeping faith with us." "Your brother is a drunkard," said Vaninka, with mingled fear and disgust.
Finally, it follows from the preceding proposition that the joy by which the drunkard is enslaved is altogether different from the joy which is the portion of the philosopher, a thing I wished just to hint in passing. The Inconstancy of the Emotions The human body is affected by external bodies in a number of ways.
We have progressed beyond the moral condition of human beings guilty of such brutality as that. But we cannot call ourselves civilized while our imaginations and sympathies are so dull that the reeling drunkard is thought an amusing spectacle. Everybody knows that until recently the average statesman, the majority of prominent men, in England, drank to excess.
In men's nervous systems, in their craving for alcohol, there is as great a difference between different temperaments as between the appetites of the sheep and the tiger. One man is dragged toward the gulf by whiskey with a force of which you have no conception. You look with contempt at a hopeless drunkard, shuffling along toward destruction.
"Now you see thar," he broke out with a laugh to those about him, "did n't I tell you Aleck wa' n 't nothin' but a' ol' drunkard? What d' you s'pose the ol' rascal wants me to do? He wants me to go over there to the bar and git drunk like 'im, and I ain't goin' to do it. I never drink.
Does not the drunkard make his wife and children reap a bitter harvest? Does not the gambler make his relatives reap? Does not the harlot make her parents reap agony and shame? What a bitter enemy is sin! May God help each one of us to turn from it at once! Whenever I hear a young man talking in a flippant way about sowing his wild oats, I don't laugh.
Do you think you could stop him if he made up his mind to be a drunkard!" "No," she said. "Then what did you mean, my girl, by what you said just now? You want to be alive as he is alive? And you want him to be your friend? What did it mean? Look, I'll set the thing all straight for you. You must know your mother was just such another overstrained little soul, good and dear as she was.
They are separate from the catalogue of the individualistic woes of the drunkard that are given in the Scripture. The shame of the American drinking place is the bar-tender who dominates its thinking. His cynical and hardened soul wipes out a portion of the influence of the public school, the library, the self-respecting newspaper.
Where is the man who will not laugh at him, if he is told by him, you are a drunkard; and is it right to ridiculize a man, respectable by his rank, because he drank two or three gills of rum? These are my reasons against courts-martial, when there is not some considerable fault to punish. According to my affair, I am sorry in seeing the less guilty being the only one punished.
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