The Pulaski citizen. [volume] (Pulaski, Tenn.) 1866-current, 1889-08-22
u be happy wnen he knows that n

u be happy wnen he knows that ne
is breaking his wife's heart and cloth
ing his children with rags2 Why,
there are on the streets of our cities
today little children, barefooted, un-
combed and unkempt; want on every
patch of their faded dress and on ev-
cry wrinkle of their prematurely old
countenances, who would have been
in churches today, and as well clad as
you are, but for the fact that rum de-
stroyed their parents and drove them
into the grave. Oh, ruml thou foe
of God, thou despoiler of homes, thou
recruiting officer of the pit, abhor
thee
WORST OF ALL, HIS SOUL IS LOST.
But my subject takes a deeper tone,
and that is, that the inebriate suffers
from the loss of the soul. The Bible
intimates that in the future world, if
we are unforgiven here, our bad pas
sions and appetites, unrestrained, will
go along with us and make our tor
ment there. So that I suppose when
an inebriate wakes up in this lost world
he will feel an infinite thirst clawing
on him. Now, down in the world,
although he may have been very poor,
he could beg or he could steal five
cents with which to get that which
would slake his thirst for little
while; but IN eternity, where is the
rum to come from2 Dives could not
get one drop of water. From what
chalice of eternal fires will the hot
lips of the lrunkard drain his
draught2 No one to brew it. No one
to mix it. No one to pour it. No one
to fetch it. Millions of worlds then
for the dregs which the young man
| just now slung on the saw busted
floor of the restaurant Millions
| of worlds now for the rind
thrown out from the punch bowl of
an earthly banquet. Dives cried for
water The inebriate cries for rum.
Oh, the deep, exhausting, exasperat
ing, everlasting thirst of the drunkard
in helll Why, if a fiend came up to
earth for some Internal work in a-grog
shop, and should go back taking on its
wing just one drop of that for which
| the inebriate in the lost world longs,
what excitement it would make there.
Put that one drop from off the
fiend's wing on the tip of the tongue
of the destroyed inebriate; let the
| liquid brightness just touch it,
let the drop be very small if
it only have in it the smack of alco-
holic drink, let that drop just touch
the lost inebriate in the lost world,
and he would spring to his feet and
cry: THAT is rum aha that is rum -
and it would wake up the echoes of
the damned: Give me ruml Give
me rum! Give me rumm In the fu-
ture world, | do not believe that it
will be the absence of God that will
make the drunkard's sorrow; | do not
believe that it will be the absence of
light; / do not believe that it will be
the absence of holiness; l think 1t will
be the absence of strong drink. Obi
"look not upon the wine when it is
red, when it moveth itself Alright in
the cup, for at the last, it biteth like a
WORD TO THE VICTIMS.
But want in conclusion to say one
thing personal, for do not like SER
mon that has no personalities in it.
Perhaps this has not had that fault al
ready. / want to say to those who are
the victims of strong drink, that while
declare that there was point beyond
which man could not stop, I want
to tell you that while a man cannot
stop in his own strength, the Lord
God, by his grace, can help him to
stop at any time. Years ago was in
room in New York where there were
many men who had been reclaimed
from drunkenness. I heard their tes-
timony, and for the first time in my
life there flashed out a truth l never
understood. They said: I'VE were
victims of strong drink. We tried to
give it up, but always failed; but some
how, since we gave our hearts
to Christ, he has taken care
Of u.s." l believe that the time
will soon come when the grace
of God will show its power here
not only to save mans soul, but his
body, and reconstruct, purify, elevate
and redeem it. verify believe that,
!, although you feel graphing at the
roots of your tongues an almost ON
nipotent thirst, if you will this mo
ment give your heart to God he will
help you, by his grace, to conquer.
Try it. 1t is your last chance. have
looked off upon the desolation. Sit
; ting under my ministry there are peo-
pie In awful peril from strong drink,
and, judging from ordinary circum
stances, there Is not one chance In five
thousand that they will get clear of it.
! see men in this congregation Of
whom must make the remark that
if they do not change their course
within ten years they will, as to thelr
bodies, lie down in drunkards' gra YES
and as to their souls, lie down
, In a drunkard's perdition. | know
that it is an awful thing to
say, but can't help saying 1t. Oh,
tured. Bewarel AS We open the door
! of your wine closet today, may thai
! decanter flash out upon you. Beware
! and when you pour the beverage into
the glass, in the foam at the top, IL
white letters, let there be spelled ou
) to your SOUL 'Bewarep When th'
books of Judgment are open, and tel
million drunkards come up to get theil
, doom, want you to bear witness tina
, / today, in the fear of God, and In tn,
love for your soul, told you with al
) affection, and with all kindness, t.
. beware of that which has already ex
! erted its influence upon your family
blowing out some of Its lights-a pre-
monition of the blackness OF darkness
: forever. Oh, If you could only near tnl
! moment, htemperance, with drunk
! ards bones, drumming on the head o
! the wine cask the Dead March of i'm
mortal souls, methinks the very glanc'
: of wine cup would make you shud
|, der. and the color Of the liquor woult
; make you think of the blood of tn,
soul and the foam ON the top of tn
cup would remind you of the froth ol
the maniac's lip, and you would g.
home from this service and knee
down and pray God that, rather thar
your children should become captive
of this evil habit, you would like t
!; carry them out some bright spring
y day to the cemetery and put then
= away to the last sleep, until at the cal
/, of the south wind the flowers woul'
= come up all over the graye-swee
prophecies of the resurrection. Co
has a balm for such wound; bu
: what flower OF comfort ever grey
|, on the blasted heath OF drunkard
: sepulcheri
70 English Bulls.