This serpent does not begin to hurt until it has wound around and
round. Then it begins to tighten, and strangle, and crush until the
bones crack, and the blood trickles, and the eyes start from their
sockets, and the mangled wretch cries "O God! O God! Help! Help!" But
it is too late; and nothing but the fires of woe can melt the chain
when once it is fully fastened.
The child of a drunkard died. My friend, a minister of the Gospel, sat
in a carriage with the drunkard, and the coffin of the little child.
On the way to the grave, the drunkard put his hand on the lid of his
child's coffin and swore that he never would drink again. Before the
next morning had come he was dead drunk!
I spread out before you the starvation, the cruelty, the ghastliness,
the woes, the terror, the anguish, the perdition of this evil, and
then ask, Are you ready, fully and forever, to surrender our churches,
our homes, our civilization, our glorious Christianity? One or the
other must surrender. It can be no "drawn battle.
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