XVI.

DRUNKENNESS AND DRINKING.

W

HATEVER may be our views regarding the effects of alcohol upon the system, the propriety of furnishing wine at evening parties, the necessity of total abstinence, the importance of signing the pledge, we are all agreed in thinking that a drunken military commander is the wrong man in the wrong place. If our sons are about to enter the army, we desire them to join a regiment whose colonel is known to be a temperate man. If he has habits of dissipation, we lose all confidence in his ability. We feel that our children will have to encounter other than the ordinary dangers of war, that their lives may be not sacrificed but wasted. We have no faith that a drunken general will make a skilful disposition of his forces either for attack or defence. Drunkenness, we know, is not favorable to clearness of vision, fineness of observation, soundness of judgment, or rapidity of mental action, and all

these are eminently needed on a field of battle, or on one which may become such, without, or in spite of, these qualities. But the bane of our army, and of our army material, seems to have been, and I fear I may say, to be, drunkenness. A regiment leaves for Washington, fully armed and equipped, and its colonel is known as a drunkard, — not, indeed, a rum and gutter drunkard, but a wine and club-room one, which, however superior that may be socially, is, for fighting purposes, the same thing. If a man is drunk, it matters little whether he is drunk at three cents a glass, or eight dollars a bottle,-whether he is lifted into his carriage by his servants, or dragged to the watch-house by a police officer. We hear of a commander of a gunboat, an excellent officer, highly recommended, who has, indeed, but one fault,-drunkenness; but that is the fruitful source of disgrace and disaster. A lieutenant has been educated in military schools, has watched the evolutions of foreign armies, is a fine, noble, patriotic, whole-souled fellow, but he cannot be relied on, he cannot be placed in the situation which wants just such a man as he, because he will occasionally be drunk. The streets of Washington, and the good name of the country, have been disgraced by drunken soldiers. Officers toss off champagne at the hotels, and privates guzzle rum in the saloons. Battles are lost, fortifications surrendered, and brave men slain.

That rum is not considered the natural ally of success, is indicated by the orders to close the dram-shops to which our army had access. Report states that there has since been a great improvement in this respect.

New England is not under martial law. Massachusetts is not under martial law. Shall we then be drunk or sober? It is for ourselves to

answer.

We demand, and we have a right to demand, that our army shall be sober. We have a right to demand that they, to whom the defence of the country is intrusted, shall not put themselves in a condition which, for a time, impairs, if it does not destroy their faculties. They may not have much skill, or strength, or courage, but all that they have belongs to the cause under whose banner they have voluntarily ranged themselves; and when they weaken their power, they rob their country. But, on the other hand, they have the same right to demand that we shall be sober. The army does not monopolize the protection of the country. It is not one man's duty to enlist to serve his country, and another man's privilege to stop at home and serve himself. The present responsibility of every American citizen is one and the same. The first earthly work of every American citizen is one and the same, to see that the Republic receive no harm. You may do it by shouldering a musket and shooting the rebels. A

second may do it by making a coat that is to warm you; a third, by managing the bank that is to pay you; a fourth, by writing the paper that is to support you; a fifth, by caring for the family that you have left. But all should work to the same end. All have the same account to render.

If, then, it is the duty of the soldier on the battle-field, for country's sake, to be sober, it is just as much, and just the same, the duty of the farmer in the corn-field, the merchant in the countingroom, the guest at the dinner-table. It amounts to nothing to say that the soldier's post is one of more importance and greater responsibility. God alone knows the extent of responsibility. Every man is responsible for the whole of himself, -no less, no more. Apparent influence is often an entirely different thing from real influence. What seems to be a little, isolated, wrong deed, may have an endless train of stupendous, evil results. What seems to be an insignificant virtue may bear fruit of splendid benefit. It may seem that the general commanding has more influence than he who stays at home, but God alone knows whether he has or not. The keeper at home, by his words or his life, may be influencing a little boy who, under his influence, shall grow up into a greater man than our greatest general. It is not for any one to say to any other, "Your responsibility is great, and you must be virtuous and vigilant. My responsibility is small, and I may be lax and self-indulgent."

All men who are not traitors, or cowardly, ignorantly, and disgracefully indifferent, are either in the army or in the Home Guard, and all are alike under bonds to be sober, to be vigilant, to be brave, to be patriotic.

But while the soldier on the Potomac is under no stronger bonds to be temperate than the citizen in Boston, he is under far stronger temptation to be intemperate. Away from home, deprived of female society, leading an adventurous and roving life, exposed to burning sun and drenching rain, his former habits both of amusement and occupation broken up, hard labor alternating with utter idleness, with but a small variety of food and a slender stock of reading matter, the temptation to one whose appetite for strong drink has ever been awakened, must be almost overpowering. It is not surprising that those who have drank a little at home should drink to excess in the camp. It is not incredible that those who were abstinent at home should be intemperate in the camp. If sore temptation is ever any excuse for any sin, surely the soldiers may plead it for their drunkenness. To keep them in the right path, they need to be surrounded by every inducement, and one of the strongest would be the assurance that the soldiers at home are scrupulously keeping themselves pure from this thing.

Is it not, therefore, the duty of every man and woman who desires that the soldier should be so