Were incurable drunkards treated as lunatics, and a proper asylum provided for them in every large town, and the management of their affairs committed to their wives or adult children, the bare idea of being confined under such a plea would operate more forcibly upon them than by signing a pledge, which they can break or resume according to the caprice of the moment.

A drunkard, while under the influence of liquor, is a madman in every sense of the word, and his mental aberration is often of the most dangerous kind. Place him and the confirmed maniac side by side, and it would be difficult for a stranger to determine which was the most irrational of the two.

A friend related to me the following anecdote of a physician in his native town: – This man, who was eminent in his profession, and highly respected by all who knew him, secretly indulged in the pernicious habit of dram-drinking, and after a while bade fair to sink into a hopeless drunkard. At the earnest solicitations of his weeping wife and daughter he consented to sign the pledge, and not only ardent spirits but every sort of intoxicating beverage was banished from the house.

The use of alcohol is allowed in cases of sickness to the most rigid disciplinarians, and our doctor began to find that keeping his pledge was a more difficult matter than he had at first imagined. Still, for example’s sake, of course, a man of his standing in society had only joined for example’s sake; he did not like openly to break it. He therefore feigned violent toothache, and sent the servant girl over to a friend’s house to borrow a small phial of brandy.

The brandy was sent, with many kind wishes for the doctor’s speedy recovery. The phial now came every night to be refilled; and the doctor’s toothache seemed likely to become a case of incurable tic douloureux. His friend took the alarm. He found it both expensive and inconvenient, providing the doctor with his nightly dose; and wishing to see how matters really stood, he followed the maid and the brandy one evening to the doctor’s house.

He entered unannounced. It was as he suspected. The doctor was lounging in his easy chair before the fire, indulging in a hearty fit of laughter over some paragraph in a newspaper, which he held in his hand.

“Ah, my dear J—, I am so glad to find you so well. I thought by your sending for the brandy, that you were dying with the toothache.”

The doctor, rather confounded –“Why, yes; I have been sadly troubled with it of late. It does not come on, however, before eight o’clock, and if I cannot get a mouthful of brandy, I never can get a wink of sleep all night.”

“Did you ever have it before you took the pledge?”

“Never,” said the doctor emphatically.

“Perhaps the cold water does not agree with you?”

The doctor began to smell a rat, and fell vigorously to minding the fire.

“I tell you what it is, J—,” said the other; “the toothache is a nervous affection. It is the brandy that is the disease. It may cure you of an imaginary toothache; but I assure you, that it gives your wife and daughter an incurable heartache.”

The doctor felt at that moment a strange palpitation at his own. The scales fell suddenly from his eyes, and for the first time his conduct appeared in its true light. Returning the bottle to his friend, he said, very humbly –“Take it out of my sight; I feel my error now. I will cure their heartache by curing myself of this beastly vice.”

The doctor, from that hour, became a temperate man. He soon regained his failing practice, and the esteem of his friends. The appeal of his better feelings effected a permanent change in his habits, which signing the pledge had not been able to do. To keep up an appearance of consistency he had had recourse to a mean subterfuge, while touching his heart produced a lasting reform.

Drinking is the curse of Canada, and the very low price of whisky places the temptation constantly in everyone’s reach. But it is not by adopting by main force the Maine Liquor law, that our legislators will be able to remedy the evil. Men naturally resist any oppressive measures that infringe upon their private rights, even though such measures are adopted solely for their benefit. It is not wise to thrust temperance down a man’s throat; and the surest way to make him a drunkard is to insist upon his being sober. The zealous advocates of this measure (and there are many in Canada) know little of their own, or the nature of others. It would be the fruitful parent of hypocrisy, and lay the foundation of crimes still greater than the one it is expected to cure.

To wean a fellow-creature from the indulgence of a gross sensual propensity, as I said before, we must first convince the mind: the reform must commence there. Merely withdrawing the means of gratification, and treating a rational being like a child, will never achieve a great moral conquest.

In pagan countries, the missionaries can only rely upon the sincerity of the converts, who are educated when children in their schools; and if we wish to see drunkenness banished from our towns and cities, we must prepare our children from their earliest infancy to resist the growing evil.

Show your boy a drunkard wallowing in the streets, like some unclean animal in the mire. Every side walk, on a market-day, will furnish you with examples. Point out to him the immorality of such a degrading position; make him fully sensible of all its disgusting horrors. Tell him that God has threatened in words of unmistakable import, that he will exclude such from his heavenly kingdom. Convince him that such loathsome impurity must totally unfit the soul for communion with its God – that such a state may truly be looked upon as the second death – the foul corruption and decay of both body and soul.