The Use and Need of the Life of Carry A. Nation.
(Sketch by WILL CARLETON, in his Magazine EVERYWHERE.)
Some years ago, the American public--always longing for "something new," was treated to an absolutely unique sensation. A woman armed with a hatchet had gone into a Kansas liquor saloon and smashed up its appurtenances, in a very thorough and unconventional manner. After this, she went into and through another, and another: and it began to took as if all the bibulous paraphernalia of Kansas were about to be sent into the twilight.
When the smoke had somewhat cleared away, and time elapsed sufficient to garner these circumstances into authentic news, it transpired that the woman who had done this was Mrs. Carry A. Nation--utterly obscure and unknown until that week.
This raid among decanters was a very singular and startling act, for a woman: but, somehow, people found it refreshing. It represented precisely what many had imagined in their minds, what thousands of women had wished they themselves could or dared do, what myraids of confirmed drinkers, even, had wished might be done. News of Mrs. Nation's swift and decided action went all over the country, like a stiff, healthy gale. She was sharply criticised--but there lurked very often a "dry grin" behind the criticism. This smashing was all very direct and unique and Americans are in general fond of directness and uniqueness. It was, technically, illegal; but, even so, it was remarked that the saloons which Mrs. Nation wrecked, were themselves in brazen defiance of the laws of the state of Kansas--unenforced on account of the fear or venality of public officers.
The work of this determined woman went on with a thoroughness and promptness that made it ultra-interesting. She was imprisoned again and again, and became an inmate, at one time and another, of some nineteen different jails. She had trial after trial--in which was developed the fact that her tongue was as sharp as her hatchet; she often addressing even the judge presiding, as "Your Dishonor," while prosecuting attorneys she treated with supreme scorn. Not much mercy was shown her in the county bastiles: she was often bestowed in cells next to insane people--in the hope, she thinks, that she might become really crazy, as well as reputedly so. One sheriff, finding that the fumes of cigarette- smoking made her ill, treated all her follow-inmates to the little white cylinders, and set them at work puffing vigorously. Chivalry and humanity seemed, for the time being, to have faded from men's minds.
In these different immurments, she had time to write her friends and even published a paper, called, "The Smasher's Mail." She told how she came to do this work: it was, she claimed, by the direct command of God. She had promised Him that if He would forgive her many sins, she would work for Him in ways no one else would; and He took her at her word--ordering her to go and smash saloons. This, of course, provokes a smile, among most people, but Mrs. Nation is not the first one that has worked under God's command--whether real or supposed.
At last, so many fines were heaped up against her, which must be paid before she could be liberated, that it seemed to her as if she would never get free; but in this dark hour, a lecture agent appeared, and said he would pay the amount if she would give him some "dates." She laughingly says now, that she did not know what she meant: and actually wondered if he thought she was a fruit dealer. But when he explained what he meant by "dates," a chance to go on the platform and give the people a reason for the hatchet that was in her hand, she saw the gates were opened; and enthusiastically went from jail to the lecture platform.
She became immediately a drawing card--in assembly halls in some churches, and even at county fairs. She often made "big money" by selling miniature hatchets as souvenirs. She worked, tirelessly and industriously, to pay back the lecture agent for the sums he had advanced; and after a time found surplus amounts on hand.
She did not hesitate very long as to the purposes for which they were to be applied. Her personal expenses were very small; she dresses plainly; and believes that God is entitled to her financial gains.
"A home for drunkards' wives," was her first thought, after paying the fine money, and she set about it, and is working for it now.
After her platform work had proceeded for a time, it was decided that she should star in the play, "Ten Nights in a Bar-room." As all know, who have witnessed this simple but powerful drama, every act of it is a prohibition lecture, and Mrs. Nation's part, that of the mother of the murdered boy, was a lecture of itself. In one scene, she was represented as smashing a saloon, most thoroughly; and this business was the most popular of anything in the play--even at theatres that drew most of their patronage from habitues of saloons.
Mrs. Nation's reasons for stepping from the churches to the footlights, is not without its logic, in these days. "People go to the theatres more than they do the churches," she says, "and I want to go where there are plenty of people to hear me, and where they need me."
From the regular theatre she passed, and for the same reasons, to the vaudeville, and did her regular "stunts" along with the singers, the dancers, the harlequin's, acrobats, and the burnt cork humorists. The writer of this has seen her in one of these performances, and considers it entirely unique and unmistakably commendable.
It was in one of the most "free and easy" vaudeville shows in Greater New York, and the audience, composed of men and boys, was a hilarious one, and could have even become a turbulent one, if anything had occured that did not please them. Many were half drunk, or nearly so. "Smoke, if you want to," was lettered on a conspicuous sign, and most of this audience wanted to. In the midst of the exercises, an interlude occurred, in which the audience was invited to a saloon down stairs, where they could proceed still farther in the liquid burning out of their bodies. On the same stage of this same vaudeville theatre, John L. Sullivan, the retired prize fighter, had, only a week before, appeared "in monologue," and had sometimes been so drunk that he could not go through with his part.
In the midst of all this, Carry Nation was announced, and she stepped upon the stage, unattended by any glare of colored lights or fanfare of music. A quiet, motherly looking woman, plainly dressed, with a Bible in her hand, she commanded almost immediately the respect of that large crowd--from the men in the orchestra stalls to the gallery gods. One half intoxicated fellow began to scoff at her, but was almost immediately hushed by the scarcely less drunken ones around him. It was a sight that hushed them all into respectful silence, for a respectable, earnest woman, with the Holy Book in her hand, will have a subduing effect upon almost any company of people.
Mrs. Nation announced her text, and preached a sermon, and delivered a temperance lecture, both within the half-hour. (The latter she calls a "prohibition lecture"--hating the word temperance, as applied to drink.)
She said words, such as had probably not been heard by most of those there, for a great many years. She told them what sots they were making of themselves, and made her points so emphatic that they cheered her --almost in spite of themselves. She commenced her speech as an experiment, so far as that day's audience was concerned; she closed a heroine. She did not remain idle during the time between her appearances on the stage, but cultivated the acquaintances of the actors and actresses, and, it is said, to their good.
That is what Mrs. Nation is doing now, on what is called the eastern vaudeville circuit; and it would be hard to see how one woman could do more good in half an hour, than she does; and that among those that need it most.
Mrs. Nation's whole name is Carrie Amelia Nation, but having noticed from old records that her father wrote the first name "Carry," she now does the same, and considers the name portentous as concerns what she is trying and means to do. She believes, she says, that it is her mission to "carry a nation" from the darkness of drunken bestiality into the light of purity and sobriety; and if she can do this, or in any great measure contribute to it, there are millions of people in the world, that will bid her Good speed.
A scientific article on the effects of alcohol on the human system. If any doctor should try to deceive you here is the proof of his malicious intent to drug you.
LIQUOR DRINKING IN HEALTH AND DISEASE.
REPORT OF THE COMMITTEE UPON THE PROGRESS MADE IN MEDICAL SCIENCE IN FAVOR OF TEMPERANCE DURING THE YEAR ENDING JUNE 1, 1902--A. W. GUTRIDGE, CHAIRMAN. READ AT THE THIRTY-FIRST ANNUAL CONVENTION OF THE CATHOLIC TOTAL ABSTINENCE UNION OF THE ARCHDIOCESE OF ST. PAUL, AND ORDERED PUBLISHED BY THE CONVENTION.
In order to understand what progress has been made during the year, it is necessary to note the condition of affairs at the commencement of the period.
Long before this committee began work the leading physicians of every enlightened country, the men to whom the entire profession looks for guidance, had declared against the use of alcohol both in health and in disease.
IS ALCOHOL A DRINK!
One reason why all the greatest physicians believed it harmful was because it had been found that alcohol was not a drink. The most abundant substance found in the human body, is water. About 130 pounds of the weight of a 160-pound person is water, "Quite enough if rightly arranged to drown him." Man has been irreverently described as "about 30 pounds of solids set up in 13 gallons of water." So it is quite natural for us to hunger for water; "death by thirst is more rapid and distressing than by starvation." "It is through the medium of the water contained in the animal body that all its vital functions are carried on." Dr. W. B. Richardson of England has pointed out more than fifty characteristics of the action of a natural drink upon the system. The action of alcohol is the opposite of these in every particular, and therefore it is not a real or natural drink. Of course the water which is found in mixture in all alcoholic liquors serves to quench thirst, even though it is often foul water.
IS IT A FOOD!
We also found, upon taking up the work imposed upon us, that alcohol had been demonstrated not to be a food. Many classifications of foods have been made, but about the best is that which divides them broadly into two classes: to use homely language, flesh formers and body warmers; those which build up or repair the bodily waste, and those which sustain the animal warmth. The slow fire within us being necessary to life we hunger for that only which will replace the substance destroyed by the burning. "To the child of nature all hurtful things are repulsive, all beautiful things attractive," As to flesh formers, it had been noted that all foods useful in repairing bodily waste contain the element nitrogen. Alcohol contains no nitrogen, and so could not be classed among body builders. The chief body warmer is sugar. Alcohol being a product of sugar, people were all misled for years into thinking that it does in some kind and degree feed the system. The mistake was easy, since after taking alcohol there is a temporary increase in vivacity of mind and manner and in surface temperature, and a lessened requirement for regular foods. These opinions had been tested in the light of truth and proved erroneous. Axel Gustafson, in his Foundation of Death, considers this subject at length. As early as 1840 French physicians discovered that alcohol actually reduced the temperature of the body. Prominent German and English medical men soon confirmed the statement, and in 1850, Dr. N. S. Davis of Chicago, the founder of the American Medical Association, in speaking of a number of observations during the active period of digestion after ordinary food, whether nitrogenous or carbonaceous, the temperature of the body is always increased, but after taking alcohol, in either the form of the fermented or the distilled drinks, it begins to fall within half an hour and continues to decrease for from two to three hours. The extent and duration of the reduction was in direct proportion to the amount of alcohol taken." The most prominent physicians in Austria, Italy, Switzerland, Scandinavia and Russia reached similar conclusions shortly after this. In explorations in the Arctic regions where the cold is intense, no alcoholic drinks are permitted. Dr. Nansen, the great Norwegian, attributes the fatalities of the Greely expedition to the use of liquor, and this is the only expedition of recent years which permitted the use of alcoholic drinks. As a matter of fact it was long ago proved that "Alcohol does not warm nor cool a person, but only destroys the sensation and decreases the vitality." Superficial observers, however, have upheld the use of alcohol as a food, saying, "See how fleshy it makes people." Well, healthy fat is not always an advantage, but beer drinkers' fat is not the genuine article. Healthy fat represents a stock of body warming food laid up for a time of need and is formed only in health. The "fat" usually exhibited by beer drinkers is not a fat at all; oil is not its chief factor. It consists of particles of partly digested flesh forming food which the system required, but which it was unable to assimilate owing to the presence in the body of the alcohol which the beer contained. This sort of fat instead of indicating health points to disease. This general teaching as to the worthlessness of alcohol as a food had been set forth by the leaders in medical profession, and accepted largely by the rank and file of practitioners for about twenty-five years. An occasional cry came from the other side, however, and late in 1899 Dr. W. O. Atwater, professor in Wesleyan University, announced that he had, by an extended series of experiments, proved the truth of the claims of those experimentors who believed alcohol to have value as a food. Dr. Atwater's reports were widely published by the whiskey press, and a state of some unrest amongst thinking physicians followed, which had not been wholly quieted when this committee began work.
IS IT A MEDICINE?
At the time we began work, however, it had been demonstrated that alcohol is not a medicine. Many years ago Dr. Nottinghham, a great English physician, said: "Alcohol is neither food nor physic." Dr. Nicols, editor Boston Journal of Chemistry, long ago wrote, "The banishment of alcohol would not deprive us of a single one of the indispensable agents which modern civilization demands. In no instance of disease in any form, is it a medicine which might not be dispensed with." Dr. Bunge, professor of physical chemistry in the University of Basle, Switzerland, said: "In general let it be understood that all the workings of alcohol in the system which usually are considered as excitement or stimulation are only indications of paralysis. It is a deep-rooted error sense of fatigue is the safety value of the human organism. Whoever dulls this sense in order to work harder or longer may be likened to an engineer who sits down on his safety valve in order to make better speed with his engine." Dr. F. H. Hammond of the U. S. army said: "Alcohol strengthens no one. It only deadens the feeling of fatigue." Dr. Sims Woodhead, professor in Cambridge University, England, had given the following list of conditions in which alcohol should not be used: In those (1) who have any family history of drunkenness, insanity or nervous disease. (2) Who have used alcohol to excess in childhood or youth. (3) Who are nervous, irritable or badly nourished. (4) Who suffer from injuries to the head, gross disease of the brain and sunstroke. (5) Who suffer from great bodily weakness, particularly during convalescence from exhausting disease. (6) Who are engaged in exciting or exhausting employment, in bad air and surroundings, in work shops and mines. (7) Who are solitary or lonely or require amusement. (8) Who have little self-control either hereditary or acquired. (9) Who suffer from weakness, the result of senile degeneration. (10) Who suffer from organic or functional diseases of the stomach, liver, kidney or heart. (11) Who are young.
Much has been said concerning the stimulating effect of alcohol upon the heart, and this had been treated at length. There is an increased action of about four thousand beats in twenty-four hours for every ounce of alcohol used. This fact still misleads some physicians into prescribing it to strengthen the weak heart, but the increase is not due to new force. The heart action normally is the result of arterial pressure and nervous action, two forces mutually balancing each other. The nervous action is diminished by the introduction of the alcohol; this destroys the balance and deranges the arterial pressure. Dr. James Edmunds, a great English physician, years ago said: "When we see a man breathing with great vigor, does it occur to us that he must be in good health? Is it an indication that he gets more air? We all know better. It simply shows that he has asthma or some such disease, and that his breathing is strained and imperfect. He is making use of less air than the person who breathes quietly. This is the case with the blood, work, so it plunges and struggles in the effort. And the cause of both cases is the same. There is more carbonic acid in the blood than either the heart or the lungs can handle. If for example I were suffering from general debility and milk were the food best suited to my needs, and if I should discover a tramp in my apartments drinking of my already too limited supply, would it be reasonable to assert that the exhibition of strength which I made in forcing him to desist is an indication that the entrance of the vagrant bettered my enfeebled condition? The greater activity of the heart is not due to the added strength resulting from recruits of friends but to a desperate struggle to beat back a reinforced enemy."
That alcohol does not allay pain had been established when this committee was organized. The only proper method of allaying pain is to remedy the disorder which produced it. It is no remedy to deaden the nerves so that we cannot feel it. This reasoning had been found good in the case of alcohol as a remedy in "colds." Whiskey does not relieve the uneasiness and oppression we experience when ailing from a cold, it only benumbs the nerves so we do not feel the trouble. The cure is not hastened but delayed in this way.
IS IT THE CAUSE OF DISEASE?
Besides the fact that alcohol had, before this committee's existence, been proved to be neither a drink nor a food nor a medicine, it had also been shown to be the cause of disease. Over five thousand of the most prominent physicians in this country had so stated it, and the proportion was equally great in all the enlightened countries of Europe. The most pronounced in this way, perhaps, have been the great leaders in medical science in Austria, Germany and France. Some of the points made against the use of alcohol were that it interferes with digestion by rendering insoluble the active principle of the gastric juice, and especially by preventing the solution of body-building foods. The natural action of various organs of the body is more or less arrested by alcohol, thus reducing the temperature. This from Dr. Edmunds already quoted: "The blood carries certain earthy matters in it in a soluble state, these earthy matters being necessary for the nutrition of the bones and other parts of the body. You all know that when wine is fermented and turned from a weak sweet wine into a strong alcoholic wine, you get what is called a 'crust' formed on the inside of the bottle. What is that crust? That crust consists of saline or earthy matters which were soluble in the saccharine grape juice, but which are insoluble in the alcoholic fluids. We find in drunkards that the blood vessels get into the same state as the wine bottles from the deposit of earthy matter which has no business to be deposited, and forms the 'beeswing' or crust in the blood vessels of the drunkard, in his eye and in all of the tissues of the body." Alcohol had been found to prevent the elimination of waste, thus the body is loaded with worn and decaying tissues, leaving the system an inviting field for all sorts of diseases. Life insurance companies, influenced by business interests wholly, make a distinction between liquor users and non-users. Nelson, a distinguished actuary of England, employed as an expert by life insurance companies, found after investigating over 7,000 cases, none of which were drunkards, that between the ages of 15 and 20 the proportion of deaths in total abstainers to those in moderate drinkers is as 10 to 18; between the ages of 25 and 30, as 10 to 31; between 30 and 40 as 10 is to 40.
With reference to the effect on the offspring of drinking parents, the medical profession had accepted the teaching of the French specialist, Dr. Jaccound, that "of the children of drinkers some of them become imbeciles and idiots; others are feeble in mind, exhibit moral perversion, and sink by degrees into complete degeneration; still others are epileptics, deaf and dumb, scrofulous, etc.," and of the English teacher, Dr. Kerr, that "long continued habitual indulgence in intoxicating drink to an extent far short of intoxication is not only sufficient to originate and hand down a morbid tendency, but is much more likely to do so than even repeated drunken outbreaks with intervals of sobriety between."
Thus the men who have been of the greatest honor to the profession in every land were a unit in opposing the use of alcohol in health or disease and in holding that if people are determined to use it there is less danger in health, as then the system is in better condition to throw off its evil effects.
PROGRESS DURING THE PAST YEAR.
Now as to the progress made during the past year. In June, 1901, the American Medical Association met in St. Paul. The branch of it giving special study to the temperance question held several sessions, about one hundred of the most distinguished physicians in the country attending. Much time was given to considering Dr. Atwater's teaching to the effect that he had proved alcohol to be a food. During the previous year he had published the details of his experiments, and at the convention it was shown that his own experiments upset his conclusions. It had been held that except in rare instances alcohol taken into the system passed away from it as alcohol without change. Dr. Atwater's experiments strengthened somewhat the position of those who held that change is not infrequent, but he concluded that the portion broken up while in the body served as a food. A closer examination of his own experiments showed that the portion oxidized had gone to form other compounds in the system which were possibly more harmful than if it had all passed off unchanged. Dr. Max Kassowitz, professor in the University of Vienna, said, after Dr. Atwater's statement had been published: "For the animal and human organism, alcohol is not both a food and a poison, but a poison only, which like other poisons is an irritant when taken in small doses while in larger ones it produces paralysis." In connection with the fact that alcohol is simply a poison, it may be worth stating, that the original meaning of the word "intoxicated" was "poisoned." After reading Dr. Atwater, the Russian Commission for the study of alcoholism, after two years' work, said: "The claim that alcohol is a food in any proper sense of the term is not sufficiently proved." In the St. Paul convention spoken of, politics obtained a foothold, and some weak resolutions in favor of the army canteen were adopted but not even the champions of the canteen were willing to subscribe to the statement that alcohol is ever a real food.
Just previous to our last convention much noise was made through the daily press concerning a finding of some English scientist to the effect that an acquired tendency cannot be transmitted to offspring. We were told that this would upset the theory that children inherit a craving for intoxicants from intemperate parents, and "the moralists and reformers would have to readjust this logic on these points." In the annual report of the president of the Union a year ago, attention was drawn to the fact that those who indulge in this sort of sophistry have not read what the teachings of temperance workers have been on the subject. Such was not the opinion of the scientists making the report, for it says "Children of drunkards are liable to be mentally and physically weak and tend to become paupers, criminals, epileptics and drunkards." It will be seen from what has been said that this is the position we have held all along. Dr. Davis, the dean of American physicians opposing the use of alcohol, has published during the year a number of articles showing the impossibility of alcohol's being of service as a medicine, and has dwelt especially upon its harmful effects in fevers, diseases in which it is still much prescribed. The two influential temperance societies composed of American physicians have, during the past year, kept up the agitation against alcohol as a medicine, and good is coming from it, as gradually medical journals are giving more and more space to the question. The following international manifesto has been issued by the leading physicians of the world:
INTERNATIONAL MEDICAL MANIFESTO.
"The following statement has been agreed upon by the Council of the British Medical Temperance Association, the American Medical Temperance Association, the Society of Medical Abstainers in Germany, the leading physicians in England and on the continent. The purpose of this is to have a general agreement of opinions of all prominent physicians in civilized countries concerning the dangers from alcohol, and in this way give support to the efforts made to check and prevent the evils from this source.
In view of the terrible evils which have resulted from the consumption of alcohol, evils which in many parts of the world are rapidly increasing, we, members of the medical profession, feel it to be our duty, as being in some sense the guardians of the public health, to speak plainly of the nature of alcohol, and of the injury to the individual and the danger to the community which arise from the prevalent use of intoxicating liquors as beverages.
We think that it ought to be known that:
1. Experiments have demonstrated that even a small quantity of alcoholic liquor, either immediately or after a short time, prevents perfect mental action, and interferes with the functions of the cells and tissues of the body, impairing self-control by producing other markedly injurious effects. Hence alcohol must be regarded as a poison, and ought not to be classed among foods.
2. Observation establishes the fact that a moderate use of alcoholic liquors, continued over a number of years, produces a gradual deterioriation of the tissues of the body, and hastens the changes which old age brings, thus increasing the average liability to disease (especially to infectious disease,) and shortening the duration of life.
3. Total abstainers, other conditions being similar, can perform more work, possess greater powers of endurance, have on the average less sickness, and recover more quickly than non-abstainers, especially from infectious diseases, while altogether escape diseases specially caused by alcohol.
4. All the bodily functions of a man, as of every other animal, are best performed in the absence of alcohol, and any supposed experience to the contrary is founded on delusion, a result of the action of alcohol on the nerve centers.
5. Further, alcohol tends to produce in the offspring of drinkers an unstable nervous system, lowering them mentally, morally and physically. Thus deterioration of the race threatens us, and this is likely to be greatly accelerated by the alarming increase of drinking among women, who have hitherto been little addicted to this vice. Since the mothers of the coming generation are thus involved the importance and danger of this increase cannot be exaggerated.
Seeing, then, that the common use of alcoholic beverages is always and everywhere followed, sooner or later, by moral, physical and social results of a most serious and threatening character, and that it is the cause, direct or indirect, of a very large proportion of the poverty, suffering, vice, crime, lunacy, disease and death, not only in the case of those who take such beverages, but in the case of others who are unavoidably associated with them, we feel warranted, nay, compelled to urge the general adoption of total abstinence from all intoxicating liquors as beverages, as the surest, simplest, and quickest method of removing the evils which necessarily result from their use. Such a course is not only universally safe, but it is also natural.
We believe that such an era of health, happiness and prosperity would be inaugerated thereby that many of the social problems of the present age would be solved."
The year has been marked by more detailed examination of the effects of alcohol upon the human system, with the result that progress towards its eventual overthrow as a medicine has been distinctly made. The greatest reforms are brought about quietly, but truth is mighty and does prevail. It will take time but gradually all will come to feel the suggestive power in the fact that "The table of nature is spread, and bountifully spread, for all its millions upon millions of guests, but wine and strong drink are not on the table."
SCIENTIFIC TESTIMONY ON BEER (From speech by SENATOR J. H. GALLINGER, M. D., January 9, 1901.) OPINIONS OF LEADING PHYSICIANS.
The alarming growth of the use of beer among our people, and the spreading delusion among many who consider themselves temperate and sober, that the encouragement of beer drinking is an effective way of promoting the cause of temperance and of aiding to stamp out the demon rum, impelled the Toledo Blade to send a representative to a number of the leading physicians of Toledo to obtain their opinions as to the real damage which indulgence in malt liquors does the victim of that form of intemperance.
Every one is not only a gentleman of the highest personal character, but is a physician whose professional abilities have been severely tested, and received the stamp of the highest indorsement by the public and their professional brethren. More skilful physicians are not to be found anywhere. We have not selected those of known temperance principles. What they say of beer is not colored by any feeling for or against temperance, but is the cold, bare experience of men of science who know whereof they speak.
A BEER DRINKING CITY.
Toledo is essentially a beer drinking city. The German population is very large. Five of the largest breweries in the country are here. Probably more beer is drank, in proportion to the population, than in any other city in the United States. The practice of these physicians is, therefore, largely among beer drinkers, and they have had abundant opportunities to know exactly its bearings on health and disease.
Every one bears testimony that no man can drink beer safely, that it is an injury to any one who uses it in any quantity, and that its effect on the general health of the country has been even worse than that of whiskey. The indictment they with one accord present against beer drinking is simply terrible.
The devilfish crushing a man in his long, winding arms, and sucking his blood from his mangled body, is not so frightful an assailant as this deadly but insidious enemy, which fastens itself upon its victim, and daily becomes more and more the wretched man's master, and finally dragging him to his grave at a time when other men are in their prime of mental and bodily vigor.
BEER KILLS QUICKER THAN OTHER LIQUORS.
Dr. S. H. Burgen, a practitioner 35 years, 28 in Toledo, says: "I think beer kills quicker than any other liquor. My attention was first called to its insidious effects, when I began examining for life insurance. I passed as unusually good risks five Germans--young business men--who seemed in the best health, and to have superb constitutions. In a few years I was amazed to see the whole five drop off, one after another, with what ought to have been mild and easily curable diseases. On comparing my experience with that of other physicians I found they were all having similar luck with confirmed beer drinkers, and my practice since has heaped confirmation on confirmation.
"The first organ to be attacked is the kidneys; the liver soon sympathizes, and then comes, most frequently, dropsy or Bright's disease, both certain to end fatally. Any physician, who cares to take the time, will tell you that among the dreadful results of beer drinking are lockjaw and erysipelas, and that the beer drinker seems incapable of recovering from mild disorders and injuries not usually regarded of a grave character. Pneumonia, pleurisy, fevers, etc., seem to have a first mortgage on him, which they foreclose remorselessly at an early opportunity.
BEER WORSE THAN WHISKEY.
"The beer drinker is much worse off than the whiskey drinker, who seems to have more elasticity and reserve power. He will even have delirium tremens; but after the fit is gone you will sometimes find good material to work upon. Good management may bring him around all right. But when a beer drinker gets into trouble it seems almost as if you have to recreate the man before you can do anything for him. I have talked this for years, and have had abundance of living and dead instances around me to support my opinions."
WRONGS WE CAN NEVER UNDO.
(By Delle M. Mason.)
I have come home to you, mother. Father, your wayward son Has come to himself at last, and knows the harm he has done. I have bleached your hair out, father, more than the frosts of years; I have dimmed your kind eyes, mother, by many tears.
Since I left you, father, to work the farm alone, And bought a stock of liquors with what I called my own, I've been ashamed to see you; I knew it broke you down, To think you had brought up a boy to harm his native town.
I've given it all up, mother; I'll never sell it more. I've smashed the casks and barrels, I've shut and locked the door. I've signed the temperance pledge--the women stood and sang, The clergymen gave three hearty cheers, and all the church bells rang.
But one thing seemed to haunt me, as I came home to you; Of all the wrongs that I have done not one can I undo. There's old Judge White, just dropping into a drunkard's grave; I've pushed him down with every drop of brandy that I gave.
And there's young Tom Eliot--was such a trusty lad, I made him drink the first hot glass of rum he ever had. Since then, he drinks night after night, and acts a ruffian's part, He has maimed his little sister, and broke his mother's heart.
And there is Harry Warner, who married Bessie Hyde, He struck and killed their baby when it was sick, and cried, And I poured out the poison, that made him strike the blow, And Bessie raved and cursed me, she is crazy now, you know.
I tried to act indifferent, when I saw the women come, There was Ryan's wife, whose children shivered and starved at home, He'd paid me, that same morning, his last ten cents for drink, And when I saw her poor, pale face, it made me start and shrink.
There was Tom Eliot's mother, wrapped in her widow's veil, And the wife of Brown, the merchant, my whiskey made him fail; And my old playmate, Mary, she stood amid the band, Her white cheek bore a livid mark, made by her husband's hand.
It all just overcome me; I yielded then and there, And Elder Sharpe, be raised his hand, and offered up a prayer. I know that he forgave me, I couldn't help but think Of his own boy, his only son, whom I had taught to drink.
So I have come back, father, to the home that gave me birth, And I will plow and sow and reap the gifts of mother earth. Yet, if I prove a good son now, and worthy of you two, My heart is heavy with the wrongs I never can undo.
SHE'S COMING ON THE FREIGHT.
Or, The joint Keeper's Dilemma.
Say, Billy, git ten two-by-four 'Nd twenty six-by-eight, 'Nd order from the hardware store Ten sheets of boiler plate, 'Nd 'phone the carpenter to come Most mighty quick--don't wait, For there's a story on the streets She's coming on the freight.
O, many years I've carried on My business in this town; I've helped elect its officers From mayor Dram clear down; I've let policemen, fer a wink, Get jags here every day; Say, Billy, get a move on, fer She's headed right this way.
I don't mind temp'rance meetin's When they simply resolute, Fer after all their efforts bring But mighty little fruit; But when crowbars and hatchets 'Nd hand axes fill the air-- Say, Billy, git that boiler iron Across the window there!
It beats the nation--no, I think The Nation's beatin' me, When I can pay a license here And still not sell it free; Fer I must keep my customers Outside 'nd make 'em wait, Because the story's got around She's comin' on the freight.
There, Billy, now we've got her-- Six-eights across the door, 'Nd solid half-inch boiler iron Where plate glass showed before; But, Bill, before that freight arrives Ye'd better take a pick 'Nd pry that cellar window loose, So we can git out quick. ED. BLAIR.
(Dedicated to Mrs. Carry Nation.)
When Kansas joints are open wide To ruin men on every side, What power can stem their lawless tide? A woman.
When many mother's hearts have bled And floods of sorrow's tears are shed, Who strikes the serpent on the head? A woman.
When boys are ruined every day And older ones are led astray, Who boldly strikes and wins the fray? A. woman.
When drunkenness broods o'er the home, Forbidding pleasure there to come, Whose hatchet spills the jointist's rum? A woman.
When rum's slain victims fall around, And vice and poverty abound, Who cuts this up as to the ground? A woman.
When those who should enforce the law Are useless as are men of straw, What force can make saloons withdraw? A woman.
When public sentiment runs low, And no one dares to make them go, Whose hatchet lays their fixtures low? A woman.
Who sways this mighty rising tide That daily grows more deep and wide, Until no rum shall it outride? A woman.
Who then can raise her fearless band And say 'twas "Home Defender's" band Who drove this monster from the land! A woman. --DR. T. J. MERRYMAN.
THAT LITTLE HATCHET.
The world reveres brave Joan of Arc, Whose faith inspired her fellowman To crush invading columns dark. So, modern woman's firmer will To conquer crime's unholy clan, Crowns her man's moral leader still.
A century was fading fast, When o'er its closing decade passed A matron's figure, chaste, yet bold, Who held within her girdle's fold A bran' new hatchet.
The jointists smiled within their bars, 'Mid bottles, mirrors and cigars-- The woman passed behind each screen, And soon ocurred a "literal" scene-- Rum, ruin, racket!
At first she "moral suasion" tried, But lawless men mere "talk" deride:-- 'Twas then she seized her household ax And for enforcing law by acts, Found nought to match it.
The work thus wrought with zeal discreet, Has saved that town from rum complete; Proving that woman's moral force Like man's, is held, as last resource, By sword or hatchet.
And following up that dauntless raid, The nation welcomes her crusade; All o'er the land, pure women charmed, Are eager forming, each one armed With glittering hatchets.
Talk of "defenders of the nation!" Woman's slight arm sends consternation 'Mong its worst foes, on social fields, Worse than the "Mauser," when she wields The "smashing" hatchet.
Mahommed sought by arts refined, To raise his standard o'er mankind; But found success for aye denied, Until at length he boldly tried The battle-hatchet.
When soon his power imperial, shone O'er countless tribes, in widening zone; And wine was banished from the board Of Moslem millions, by the sword And victor's hatchet.
So may it be with this great nation, When woman tests her high vocation; Persuasion proves a futile power To quell the joints, but quick they cower At the whirling hatchets.
True chivalry must come again, And men, more noble, but less vain, Responding to its modern sense, Guard woman, while in self-defense She plies her hatchet.
When honor bright appeals to men "The weak confounds the mighty," then Side doors and slot-machines must close And such games hide, when women pose With sharpened hatchets.
'Else are men brutes, and all their pride And gallant valor, they must hide In coward shirking. This shameful end They must accept, or else defend The "home-guard" hatchet.
'Tis woman's crucial, fateful hour, Her fine soul's test, 'gainst man's coarse power. In war, she can not be man's peer, But for home's weal, all men sincere Bow to her hatchet.
Man's "Vigilance" is oft condoned, When Vice and Crime has been enthroned. Shall women then, be more to blame, When she In Virtue's sacred name Raises her hatchet?
'Tis she must grasp the nation's prize-- A pure, proud home, earth's paradise. The joints must go, but, never till Woman exerts her potent will And holy hatchet.
As men, once slaves, their freedom gained By force, and power at length attained; So, cultured brains and force combined, Shall mark the sphere of womankind And surely reach it.
In valor, more Joan d'Arc's are needed, Woman's high social power's conceded, But she herself, must blaze the path To public morals, by her own worth And "Little Hatchet." --C. BUTLER-ANDREWS.
Dr. Howard Russell told in his address at Kokomo, Sunday, March 24, how when Mrs. Nation was on her way from Topeka to Peoria recently, a passenger on the same train came into the car where she was and sang a song of his own composition. He was evidently a farmer with a large stock of mother-wit. He was lame, and limped into the car, and hopped up and down while he sang. A great deal of merry enthusiasm was aroused, and the car, packed full of people, expressed their appreciation by round after round of applause. It is evident that Mrs. Nation is quite popular in that part of the country.
The song is as follows:
Hurrah, Samantha, Mrs. Nation is in town! So get on your bonnet and your Sunday-meeting gown. Oh, I am so blamed excited I am hopping up and down, Hurrah, Samantha, Carrie Nation is in town!
Get you ready, we are going to the city, Where the "Home Defenders" are all feeling gay, And the mothers all exclaiming, "Its a pity That Carrie Nation does not come here every day."
I want to hear that mirror-smashing music, And to look in Mrs. Nation's blessed face, And to see the saloon men all cavorting With that hatchet bringing sadness to their face.
Hurrah, Samantha, Mrs. Nation is in town! So wear your brightest bonnet and your alapaca gown. Oh, I am so jubilated I'm a-hopping up and down, Hurrah! hurrah! Samantha, Mrs. Nation is in town.
(Found in manuscript among the personal effects of a prostitute, 22 years of age, who died in the Commercial Hospital, Cincinnati, O.)
Once I was pure as the snow, but I fell, Fell like the snowflakes from heaven to hell; Fell to be trampled as filth on the street Fell to be scoffed, to be spit on and beat; Pleading--cursing--dreading to die, Selling my soul to whoever would buy, Dealing in shame for a morsel of bread, Hating the living and fearing the dead. Merciful God, have I fallen so low? And yet I was once like the beautiful snow.
Once I was fair as the beautiful snow, With an eye like a crystal, a heart like its glow, Once I was loved for my innocent grace-- Flattered and sought for the charms of my face! Fathers,--mothers,--sisters,--all, God and myself have I lost by my fall; The veriest wretch that goes shivering by, Will make a wide sweep lest I wander too nigh; For all that in on or above me I know, There is nothing so pure as the beautiful snow.
How strange it should be that this beautiful snow Should fall on a sinner with nowhere to go! How strange it should be when the night comes again, If the snow and the ice struck my desperate brain. Fainting,--freezing,--dying alone, Too wicked for prayer, too weak for a moan, To be heard in the streets of the crazy town, Gone mad in the joy of the snow coming down; To be and to die in my terrible woe, With a bed and shroud of the beautiful snow.
Helpless and foul as the trampled snow Sinner, despair not! Christ stoopeth low To rescue the soul that is lost in sin, And raise it to life and enjoyment again. Groaning--bleeding--dying for thee The crucified hung on the cursed tree, His accent of mercy fell soft on thine ear, "Is there mercy for me? Will He heed my weak prayer?" O, God! in the stream that for sinners did flow, Wash me and I shall be whiter than snow.
THE LIPS THAT TOUCH LIQUOR MUST NEVER TOUCH MINE.
You are coming to woo me, but not as of yore, For I hastened to welcome your ring at the door, For I trusted that he, who stood waiting for me then, Was the brightest, the noblest, the truest of men.
Your lips on my own when they printed "Farewell," Had never been soiled by the "Beverage of Hell," But they come to me now with the bacchanal sign, And the lips that touch liquor must never touch mine.
I think of that night, in the garden alone, When whispering you told me your heart was my own, That your love in the future should faithfully be, Unshared by another, kept only for me.
Oh sweet to my soul is the memory still, Of the lips that met mine when they murmured "I will," But now to their pleasure no more I incline, For the lips that touch liquor must never touch mine.
O, John! How it crushed me when first in your face, The pen of the "Rum Fiend" had written "Disgrace," And turned me in silence and tears from that breath, All poisoned and foul from the chalice of death.
It shattered the hopes I had cherished to last, It darkened the future and clouded the past, It shattered my Idol and ruined the shrine, For the lips that touch liquor must never touch mine.
I loved you, O! dearer than language can tell, And you saw it, you proved it, you knew it too well; But the man of my love was far other than he Who now from the "tap room" came reeling to me.
In manhood and honor, so noble and right, His heart was so true and his genius so bright, And his Soul was unstained, unpolluted by wine, But the lips that touch liquor must never touch mine.
You promised reform; but I trusted in vain; Your pledge was but made to be broken again, And the lover so false to his promises now, Will not as a husband be true to his vow.
The word must be spoken that bids you depart, Though the effort to speak it would shatter my heart, Though in silence with blighted affections I pine, Yet the lips that touch liquor must never touch mine.
If one spark in your bosom of virtue remain, Go fan it with prayer, till it kindle again, Resolved, "God helping," in future to be From wine and its follies unshackled and free.
And when you have conquered this foe of your Soul, In manhood and honor beyond its control, This heart will again beat responsive to thine, And the lips that touch liquor must never touch mine. --Unknown.
WAR AMONG THE POETS.
From the Royal Arch News, the warhorse of the booze hoodlums, the snapdragon of the jungle, the siren of Hades.
"The Lips that Touch Liquor Shall Never Touch Mine," so sings-- Miss Cora Vere, who writes jingle for the Anti-Saloon press, and this is the reply that the R. A. News would make:
The lips that touch liquor don't hanker to touch The lips of a maiden like you--not much! If a man--not a milksop--should happened to wed A creature like you, he had better be dead; For never a moment of peace would he see Unless he would bow to your every decree, If he smoked a cigar, or drank beer, you would make A hell of his home, and perhaps you would break Into court and denounce him, in search of divorce, And fools would uphold you, as matter of course. Perhaps, like the Nation, a hatchet you'd take And his bottles of beer and cigar-boxes break, And get your name blazoned in all of the papers, By your rowdydow talk and unwomanly capers, No! the lips that touch liquor don't hanker to touch The lips of a female like you are--not much!
I am not a poet myself but I am fortunate in having a friend that is, so I called on him to meet this antagonist with a nobler steel, and behold the defeat of this champion of a dying cause:
AN AMERICAN COUNTESS, OR LADY VERE. "The lips that touch liquor, shall never touch mine;" The meaning is clear, the sense is divine, Bespeaks a clear head, an unsullied heart-- A fortune from which no sane man would part. O, God! give us more of such women, we pray, Then slop-pots of whisky we'd urge to the fray. The hatchets of "Carrie," and Cora Vere, Would knock out the spigots and bungs of whisky.
An army like those would drive them pell-mell; For safety they'd Hazen, and think they did well To escape from the jury of women turned loose Who have drank to its dregs the damnation of booze.
The idea that women would "hanker" to touch, The lips of a demijohn; I guess not--"not much;" A forty-rod pole should line up between, No nearer than that a fair lady be seen.
So now, "Indiana, of Royal Arch News," You've taken great pains to give us your views; I take up the gauntlet, and venture reply; I stop not to argue, but simply defy.
You say in one case one had better be dead Than with a good woman in wedlock be wed: But somewhere I've read your kind do not die; But passing from earth, 'are hung up to dry."
Besotted with whiskey,--unfitting to tell, Even Satan himself avoiding the "smell;" Before then we part, I would bid you adieu, Reform while you may--begin life anew.
If you have a surplus--like Lady Vere, Please pass them around, turn them over to me; "A la Hobson"--I'd venture to sample the store, And look o'er the field--yes! and "hanker" for more. Sparta, Mo. D. E. GRAYSTON.
"GOD BLESS OUR CARRIE NATION."
May she live to see the day, When the liquor traffic will be no more, When the traffic of the devil Will all be swept away And God's peace remain supreme from shore to shore.
God bless the hatchet wielder, May it never cease to strike, Till it drives the cursed intemperance from our land Let us stand for God and duty, Till we gain the Eden of beauty And be what God designed for us, A happy union band.
God bless our Carrie Nation, Give her courage, strength, and might, To go forth in former battlements arrayed. Till this cursed intemperance, Will be driven from our shore, From every village, hamlet and the glade.
O, God raise up a million, Of our Carrie Nation minds, That they may fight for freedom, from the thrall. Let's join our hands with Carrie And do not let us tarry, Oh, let us toil for Jesus one and all.
AMERICA'S HISTORIC HATCHET.
Ere Yankee Doodle came to town, And routed king and tory, Three words sublime were writ by time To live in song and story; "George Washington"--immortal name There's few or none can match it; His father's favorite cherry tree, And "George's little hatchet."
In Boston's harbor next we trace The little hatchet's story; In smashing up the Crown's tea-chests, It won a crown of glory. And every time Wrong shows his head, That weapon "bald doth snatch it, For patriot hands are ever found To wield the "Yankee hatchet."
A century and more has passed, With blooms and blizzards blowing O'er Kansas' plains--where corn and grains, 'Round happy homes are growing; Where statutes pure close each "joint" door, Forbidding to unlatch it, There, in the fight, defending Right, We find our "loyal hatchet."
The boy who 'could not tell a lie," The flag of freedom planted, He shelled "Corn"--wallis to the "cob" On Yorktown's field undaunted. Since then, our tea is duty free No Briton dare attach it; While the new woman in the case, Now poses with the hatchet.
She dares to fight a gorgon fight! A cruel monster hell-born, Whose hungry maw, ignoring law, Mocks misery's tears to scorn. She may not slay the beast, but aye Her blows will badly scratch it; All praise is due the woman true, Who wields the "home-guard" hatchet.
When time shall build the marble guild, That marks man's reformation, Its arch of fame shall bear the name Of dauntless Carrie Nation. Her righteous scorn of rum and wrong-- May all creation catch it, And join the "Woman's World Crusade," Armed with "our nation's" hatchet.
--Minna Irving, in Leslie's Weekly. Revised and second stanza added by C. Butler Andrews.
THE HATCHET CRUSADE.
(Dedicated to Mrs. Carry Nation.)
Oh, woman, armed with one little hatchet. Fighting for justice and right, And with your brave mother courage Knowing your cause was right,
You've done more to hasten God's kingdom, And to crush satan's power o'er men, Than countless numbers of creation's lords, With the power of the ballot thrown in.
You've awakened the mothers to action Whose powers have long dormant been, While the minions of satan have strained every nerve To ruin our boys and our men.
Rouse, mothers, too long we've been sleeping, Shall one of us let it be said That we calmly stood by while those who are dear Were down to destruction led.
American mothers, hear me, If you think God will not send the warning In hieroglyphics upon the wall? God is not mocked, He is just the same,
And has given the power to you. If you're weighed and found wanting our nation will fall Because you did not your duty do. Then let us unfurl our broad banners, Fling their folds to the breezes high, Let this still be our motto, "We'll trust in God, and keep our powder dry." --CARRIE CHEW SNEDDON.
"The Use and Need of the Life of Carry A. Nation."
Revised Edition. 25,000 Copies.
Finely Illustrated. Fancy Paper Covers, 50c. Cloth, $1.00 BY MAIL POSTPAID. ADDRESS ALL ORDERS TO CARRY A. NATION, Guthrie, Okla. ------------------------------------------ Prohibition Federation.
Organizers wanted. We want earnest men and women to take the field and do active, aggressive work for us.
Send for literature and instructions to headquarters, Guthrie, Oklahoma.
YOUR BALLOT IS YOUR HATCHET
"The word of God is quick and powerful and sharper than any two edged sword, piercing even to the dividing asunder of soul and spirit."
The Home Defender. The Home Builder.
"Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home."
TO CUT OUT THE EVIL ----------------------------------------------------------------------
The above is the heading of my paper which I am now publishing at Guthrie, Okla.
I know that the mass of the people are in the dark concerning my work and the need of it, because of the misrepresentations of the rum-bought press. I have written my book which gives the facts of God's calling me into this work because He loves the people and has heard the mothers' prayers.
I want every person who reads this announcement to send for a free sample copy of the "Hatchet." It will open your eyes. It will make prohibition votes.
The aroused motherhood of this nation SHALL rescue her children and stop the soul-destroying, vote-protected, licensed-for-money liquor traffic in its annual slaughter of a hundred thousand of her sons.
If you want a prohibition paper that even the enemies of prohibition will subscribe for and read, write to "The Hatchet" for terms. It is a sixteen page illustrated monthly magazine, 25cts per year. It is a "hit" and smashes where it hits.
Special offer: Send the names of ten of the most active prohibition men and women of your neighborhood and ten cents, and you will receive "The Hatchet" for one year.
Full time workers can make good wages and many converts to prohibition by selling my book. "The Use and Needs of the Life of Carry A. Nation." For terms write "The Hatchet," Guthrie, Okla.
Special Offer: Send us 50cts and we will send you the book and also "The Hatchet" for one year. After receiving the book if you are not satisfied return it in good condition inside of seven days and we will refund your money.
DO IT NOW. While you wait, liquor wins! Procrastination is the thief of time--of votes--of souls!
Address, "THE HATCHET," Guthrie, Oklahoma