gwrwy f? ,
The Commoner
APKIL, 1915
and to a greater extent than the moderate drink
er but the moderate drinker is on the road
over which the drunkard must travel before he
becomes a sot. And no moderate drinker can bo
absolutely sure that he will not be overcome by
the appetite. There is no time in life from youth
to old age when it is safe for a man to cultivato
a taste for alcoholic drinks; and suroly it is the
part of wisdom not to drink at all when drinking
brings no advantage; when drink, even in small
quantities, impairs one's capacity; when the use
of alcohol affects the child of the drinker, and
when in addition to these a drinker runs the risk
of being overcome by the appetite.
But let me give you another reason for total
abstinence. NO ONE CAN AFFORD TO SPEND
MONEY FOR DRINKS not even a small amount
of money. Money should not be wasted and it
is worse than wasted when used for that which,
instead of benefiting, does harm. There are so
many good uses that can be made of money that
it seems Btrange that anyone should be willing to
spend money for intoxicating liquor. Go among
those who drink and see to what actual needs the
money could be applied. It would improve and
make more sanitary the houses in which they
live; it would clothe their children better; it
would bring more comfort into the home, not to
speak of the more substantial pleasure which
the drinker himself would be able to enjoy.
If one does not need all his money, either for
immediate use or as a "protection against the in
firmities of age, the world around presents op
portunities for use of his money in innumerable
altruistic ways. There is no investment so profit
able as investment in humanity. He who, out of
brotherly love, aids his fellow man in proportion
as he is able to aid, draws from such contribu
tions a joy infinitely more satisfying than can be
derived from the use of liquor.
I have spoken of the reason based upon phys
ical welfare and also of the reason based upon
the obligation that rests upon a man to make a
wise use of his money, but there is a third reason
which, to my mind, can not fail to impress the
man who is guided by his conscience, namely, the
use which man should make of his example.
Even if a man were sure that the moderate use
of liquor would bo of no physical injury to him
and Would involve no danger of excess; even if
he felt that he had money to spare for drinking,
still, in view of the awful consequences of indulgence-in
liquor, CAN HE AFFORD TO GRATIFY
HIMSELF AT THE EXPENSE OF THOSE WHO,
WEAKER IN RESISTING POWER, MAY BE
LED ASTRAY BY HIS EXAMPLE!
A man can not advise others not to drink when
he himself drinks. Indulgence compels silence
on the subject. If a man does not drink much
if he has not formed the habit of drinking it
can be but a little sacrifice to give up drinking
entirely, and thus make his example helpful to
those about him; if he drinks so much and the
appetite for liquor is so strong that it would be
a great sacrifice to stop, then he ought to stop on
his own account.
The great apostle Paul declared that he would
eat no meat if meat made his brother to offend.
It was not because Paul did not like meat, but
because he loved his brother more than he loved
meat. Is it asking too much for any human being
to ask that he consider the influence of his ex
ample upon those about him, especially upon
those who look to him for counsel?
I believe In the gospel that Mr. Sunday has
been preaching, a gospel In which the doctrine
of immortality plays an important part. I be
lieve in a future life; I am sure that I shall live
again as I am that I live today sure that I shall
be called upon to render an account of the deeds
done in the flesh. God forbid that anyone shall
appear to testify against me on that day and ac
cuse me of having, by my example, been the
cause of his ruin.
We have considered a number of reasons
which should lead the individual to adopt the
policy of total abstinence his physical welfare
demands it, the expenditure of money for drink
can not be justified, and onefs influence is too
sacred a thing to be thrown on the side of in
temperance. But I feel that I am justified in
bringing another argument to your attention a
reason why each individual should do all in his
power to induce his fellow men to abstain from
the use of intoxicating liquor as a beverage.
It is that we are so bound together that we
can not escape from the indirect effect of any
thing that is harmful to society. From the low
est standpoint upon which the subject can be dis
cussed, namely, the ground of pecuniary interest,
we are compelled to use our influence to lessen
drinking. The use of liquor Is the direct cause
of crime, of poverty, of degradation and of
despair, and wo can nover tell when wo shall our
selves suffer at the hands of those who are vic
tims of intemperance. Proporty Is insecure and
life is unsafe in proportion as the use of liquor
contributes to the number of criminals, tho num
ber of paupers and tho number of tho desporate.
Wo have, therefore, not only the individual
reasons beforo given and tho other reasons ad
vanced, but we have a financial interest in sup
porting and spreading tho cause of temperance.
Wo have, as members of society, an interest in
preventing tho economic waste, tremendous in
amount, duo to the deteriorating influonco of in
toxicating liquor. Wo have also a moral interest
in lifting society to tho highest plane, a thing
impossible so long as the rava'ges of drink are
felt in so many homes.
If you are convinced that total abstinence is a
desirable thing, let mo add a word In support of
the policy of signing tho pledge. Objection has
been made to the pledge on tho ground that it
suggests lack of strength of character; some say
that, although never intending to drink they
would not wish to bind themselves by a pledge.
There is nothing humiliating about a pledge.
Those who aro united in marriage take a pledge
at the altar; why should it bo less honorable to
promise not to drink than to pledge fidelity to
tho marriage vows!
The pledge marks the crossing of tho lino Into
the ranks of the total abstainers. The man who
says, "I never expect to drink," but adds "I will
not sign a pledge," raises tho same suspicion that
is raised when a man says to you "I admit that I
owe you but I will not put it in writing." You
can not help feeling that his purpose would bo
more strongly stated if expressed In writing. So
long as one refuses to sign the pledge ho can not
urge others to sign, and ho is in danger of having
tho sincerity of his reasons doubted.
I believe in tho pledge; I began signing tho
pledge before I can remember; I have nover fail
ed to sign if, by signing, I could persuade anyone
else to sign with. me, and as long as I live I shall
stand ready to sign with anyone and everyone.
You may bo interested to know tho origin of
tho pledge which will bo presented to you to
night. As I was about to leave Nebraska, after
the last election, I persuaded a friend to sign a
pledge with me. It read: "We, tho undersigned,
promise, God helping us, never to use intoxicat
ing liquor as a beverage." The pledge was sign
ed in duplicate and I brought one copy to Wash
ington with mo. In Chicago I met a representa
tive of a boys' organization in Michigan, who pre
sented an invitation from four thousand boys to
speak to them at Ann Arbor tho latter part of
November. It so happened that tho invitation
had been circulated on separate blanks and then
bound in book form. Each invitation began,
"We, the Undersigned," etc. Tho similarity of
the language called to my mind the pledge In my
pocket and I presented this pledge when I spoke
to the boys in Ann Arbor. The meeting was
made up of delegates from the high schools of
more than three hundred cities In the state, and
the delegates took the pledge homo with them
and circulated it. Already more than ten thou
sand have signed. It has never been any trial
for me to abstain from the use of liquor, but
even if total abstinence had been difficult it
would be ample compensation to know that I
may be useful in saving from the drink habit
some of the young men of Michigan, who, with
out the pledge; might yield to the temptation.
I urge this pledge upon every person present.
In this great audience there may be some who
will be saved from the evils of intemperance by
it, and others who may, by their action and in
fluence, be the means of saving some who are not
here tonight. And is it not worth while to save
a man? Who has not seen the ruin that rum has
wrought! If a fireman, following tho line of
duty dies amid the flames, the city which he
served is sad, but that sadness had mingled with
it a pride in his self-sacrifice. His mother can
smile even amid her sorrow as she remembers
that her son was doing a man's part, and the
father, bereft of the care that might have beea
his support in his declining days, is cheered by
the thought that his son bravely met his fate.
How different Is the end of the drunkard! Watch
him as he goes on his downward way, friend
after friend departing; see him when his face
no longer suggests that he was made in the im
age of his God. Calculate the sorrow which he
brings to family and friends; and then hear, at
last, the sigh of relief from those who are near
est to him! "It is finished." Is it not worth
while to save men from such a fato? Aye, more,
Is it not worth while to holp them, as bet we
can, to rlso to tho highest piano of human en
deavor? Is it not worth whilo to aid thom by
counsel and cxamplo to make lifo here fruitful
in all that is pure and good and great?
A PHILADELPHIA? EXPRESSES GRATITUDE
After his return to Washington, Mr. Bryan
recolved tho following letter, which Is self-ox-planatory:
Philadelphia, March 2Cth, 1915.
Hon. William Jonnings Bryan,
Calumet Placo,
Washington, D. C.
My Dear Sir:
Tho writor was one of tho 10,000 who roso and
pledged themselves to tho causo of temperance,
in response to your oloquont appeal in "Billy"
Sunday's Tabcrnaclo, Philadelphia, March 15th
When I entered tho Tabornaclo, tho thought ot
pledging mysolf to the causo of temperance had
nover entered my mind. I simply attended the
meeting to llston to what you had to say on the
subject. I sat with tho University of Pennsyl
vania contingent, in section 10, within a short
distance of the rostrum. Beside mo sat two pro
fessors representing two of tho leading univer
sities of tho country.
Beforo you were presented to tho audience,
pledge cards were passed around, and as I had
no thought of signing, I passed mine on. I had
never been even a moderate drinker, let alone an
immoderate one, and thoreforo felt that there
was no necessity for mo to sign any pledge. Then
again, I felt that it was somewhat undignified
an admission of weakness as it were, to sign any
pledge, and I was In this frame of mind when
tho chairman presented you to tho audience. In
tho early part of your lecture, as you outlined
your subject, I was more convinced than ever
that it would be a foolish and unnecessary act
for me to sign one of those cards, and later,
when a dozen of them wero passed to me at one
time, I handed them to the man occupying the
seat in front of me. I was with you in principle,
however, and felt that my presence would indi
cate, at least, my moral support.
Suddenly, like tho crash of artillery, you hurl
ed tho appalling statistics of liquor full at your
audience. Two' and one-half billions spent an
nually In tho United States on "drink" and only
seven hundred and fifty millions on education!
I was astonished, shocked, and I leaned forward
from that moment to catch every word.
You continued to present one astounding com
parison after another, In such rapid sequence
that the ghastly spectre of drink seemed to
spread its foul wings over tho entire country,
like somo cursed Influence presaging degenera
tion and degradation, vice and crime. You asked
where the drunkards came from, and answered
"From the moderate drinkers, since they could
nover come from teetotalers." Then you added
"If you are a moderate drinker, stop for the
sake of the example to your son, and to those
with whom you come in contact. If you are an
immoderate drinker, then stop for your own
sake."
I had a son at home, a big six-footer, just out
of his prep-school. He had been captain of his
track team, and had broken the record for tho
high jump and tho broad jump. He had never
tasted liquor in his life. You had struck home.
"For his sake," I said to myself, find I asked the
man in front of me to whom I had laughingly
handed the dozen cards, if he had one left. He
had and he gave it to me. I turned to both of
the professors and asked them If they would not
unite in this great movement, to cut a broad
swath of temperance from the Atlantic to the
Pacific. They laughed derisively, but that did
not affect me.
"For the sake of your son." The wordswere
still ringing in my ears. I signed tho card, and
when you called for those to stand up who would
pledge themselves that night, it was my happi
ness to be one of the first to reach his feet. It
was an epoch in my life.
On my way home to the suburbs where I live,
I felt a new happiness suffuse my being, so pure
and holy that I seemed to feel years younger,
and as light on my feet as a school-boy. It was
11:30 when I reached home.
All the liquor I had in the house was one bot
tle of "Cocktails," which I kept in a little com
partment in the sideboard under lock and key.
I went straight to this compartment, unlocked it
and took out the bottle, and carried it upstair