The Ouachita telegraph. [volume] (Monroe, La.) 1865-1889, 1873-11-07
CHARLES LAMBS CONFESSION.

CHARLES LAMBS CONFESSION.
Charle6 Lamb, one Of the gentlest and
BEST Of hearts and most delightful Of
attributed his partly failure
to intemperance. With self-forget-
tulness which few would care to initiate
he freely confessed his weakness to
others, and desired that the story Of his
might serve as warning
TO young men who were Ia danger OF
upon the same perfious ground.
In one OF his essays, entitled "The Con-
fessions Of q Drunkard," he draws the
following affecting picture OF the darkest
portion Of his life:
Twelve years ago I had completed
my six-and-twentieth year. I had
lived from the period of leaving school
to that time pretty much in solitude.
My companions were chiefly books.
rose early, went to bed betimes, and
the faculties which God had given me
I had reason to think did not rust in
me unused. About that time fell in
with some companions Of a different
order. They were men of boisterous
spirits, sitters up a-nights, disputants,
drunken; yet seemed to have some-
thing noble about them. We dealt
midnight, joviatly.
Behold me now, at the robust period
of Life, reduced to imbecility and decay.
Hear me count my gains, and the pro-
fits which have derived from the mid
night cup.
Twelve years ago was possessed of
healthy frame OF mind and body. I
was never strong, but think my CON-
stitution for weak one, was as happily
exempt from the tendency to any mail
ady as it was possible to be. scarce
knew what 1t was to all any thing.
Now, except when am losing myself
In sea Of drink, am never free from
those uneasy sensations In head and
stomach which are so much worse to
bear than any definite pains or aches.
At that time was seldom In bed
after six in the morning, summer or
winter. awoke refreshed. Now the
first feeling that besets me, after stretch
ing out the hours of recumbence to their
last possible extent, PA forecast Of the
wearisome day that lies before me,
with secret wish that could have
lain on still, or never awaked. Life
Itself, my waking life, has much Of the
plextty Of an III dream. In the day
0SAAAA10A0
Business which I used to enter upon
with some degree Of alacrity now
wearies, ahrights and perplexes me. I
0hncy all eorte of discourngements, aud
am ready to give up an occupation that
gives me bread from a harassfng concelt
Of inapacity. So much the springs OF
action are broken. My favorlte occu-
patfons Of times past now cease to en-
terrain. can do nothing readily.
Application for ever 50 short a time
kills me.
Is there no way betWixt total abstin.
ence and the excess which kills you
For your sake, reader, and that you
may never attain my experience, with
pain must utter tho dreadful truth
that there is none. In the stage Of
habit that had reached, to stop any
where short of that measure Of intoxi.
cation which produces sleep, and be
numbering, apoplectic sleep Of a drunk
ard, is to have taken none at all. The
pain Of selfdcnial is all one. Whc1
the drunkard has advanced to certain
stage, reason visits him only through
intoxication, for it is fearful truth thai
tho intellectual faculties, by the repeat
cd acts of intemperance, may be driver
from their orderly sphere of action unit
they shall be brought ut last to depend
for tho faint manifestation Of thcil
departing energies, upon the returning
periods Of tho fatnl madness to which
they owe their devastation. Tho drink
ing man is never less himself, thar
during his sober intervals.