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Title: The anatomy of drunkenness
Author: Macnish, Robert
Language: English
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DRUNKENNESS ***
THE ANATOMY OF DRUNKENNESS.
SIXTH EDITION.
THE
ANATOMY
OF
DRUNKENNESS.
BY ROBERT MACNISH,
AUTHOR OF “THE PHILOSOPHY OF SLEEP,” AND MEMBER OF THE FACULTY
OF PHYSICIANS AND SURGEONS OF GLASGOW.
SIXTH EDITION.
GLASGOW:—W. R. M’PHUN, PUBLISHER;
N. H. COTES, 139, CHEAPSIDE, LONDON.
MDCCCXXXVI.
Glasgow:—E. Khull, Printer to the University.
TO
DAVID M. MOIR, ESQ.
SURGEON, MUSSELBURGH,
THIS WORK IS INSCRIBED,
WITH EVERY SENTIMENT OF ADMIRATION,
BY HIS SINCERE FRIEND,
ROBERT MACNISH.
ADVERTISEMENT.
TO THE FIFTH EDITION.
In preparing the present edition of the ANATOMY OF DRUNKENNESS for the
press, I have spared no pains to render the work as complete as possible.
Some parts have been re-written, some new facts added, and several
inaccuracies, which had crept into the former editions, rectified.
Altogether, I am in hopes that this impression will be considered an
improvement upon its predecessors, and that no fact of any importance has
been overlooked or treated more slightly than it deserves.
R. M.
_20th Sept. 1834._
CONTENTS.
PAGE
CHAPTER I.
Preliminary Observations, 15
CHAPTER II.
Causes of Drunkenness, 28
CHAPTER III.
Phenomena of Drunkenness, 36
CHAPTER IV.
Drunkenness Modified by Temperament, 52
CHAPTER V.
Drunkenness Modified by the Inebriating Agent, 61
CHAPTER VI.
Enumeration of the Less Common Intoxicating Agents, 98
CHAPTER VII.
Differences in the Action of Opium and Alcohol, 106
CHAPTER VIII.
Physiology of Drunkenness, 111
CHAPTER IX.
Method of Curing the Fit of Drunkenness, 120
CHAPTER X.
Pathology of Drunkenness, 132
CHAPTER XI.
Sleep of Drunkards, 170
CHAPTER XII.
Spontaneous Combustion of Drunkards, 175
CHAPTER XIII.
Drunkenness Judicially Considered, 190
CHAPTER XIV.
Method of Curing the Habit of Drunkenness, 197
CHAPTER XV.
Temperance Societies, 223
CHAPTER XVI.
Advice to Inveterate Drunkards, 236
CHAPTER XVII.
Effects of Intoxicating Agents on Nurses and Children, 241
CHAPTER XVIII.
Liquors not always Hurtful, 246
APPENDIX.
No. I.
Excerpt from Paris’ Pharmacologia, 257
No. II.
Mr. Brande’s Table of the Alcoholic Strength of Liquors, 260
CHAPTER I.
PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS.
Drunkenness is not, like some other vices, peculiar to modern times. It
is handed down to us from “hoar antiquity;” and, if the records of the
antediluvian era were more complete, we should probably find that it was
not unknown to the remotest ages of the world. The cases of Noah and Lot,
recorded in the sacred writings, are the earliest of which tradition
or history has left any record; and both occurred in the infancy of
society. Indeed, wherever the grape flourished, inebriation prevailed.
The formation of wine from this fruit, was among the earliest discoveries
of man, and the bad consequences thence resulting, seem to have been
almost coeval with the discovery. Those regions whose ungenial latitudes
indisposed them to yield the vine, gave birth to other products which
served as substitutes; and the inhabitants rivalled or surpassed those
of the south in all kinds of Bacchanalian indulgence—the pleasures of
drinking constituting one of the most fertile themes of their poetry, in
the same manner as, in other climates, they gave inspiration to the souls
of Anacreon and Hafiz.
Drunkenness has varied greatly at different times and among different
nations. There can be no doubt that it prevails more in a rude than in
a civilized state of society. This is so much the case, that as men get
more refined, the vice will gradually be found to soften down, and assume
a less revolting character. Nor can there be a doubt that it prevails
to a much greater extent in northern than in southern latitudes.[1] The
nature of the climate renders this inevitable, and gives to the human
frame its capabilities of withstanding liquor: hence, a quantity which
scarcely ruffles the frozen current of a Norwegian’s blood, would scatter
madness and fever into the brain of the Hindoo. Even in Europe, the
inhabitants of the south are far less adapted to sustain intoxicating
agents than those of the north. Much of this depends upon the coldness of
the climate, and much also upon the peculiar physical and moral frame to
which that coldness gives rise. The natives of the south are a lively,
versatile people; sanguine in their temperaments, and susceptible, to an
extraordinary degree, of every impression. Their minds seem to inherit
the brilliancy of their climate, and are rich with sparkling thoughts
and beautiful imagery. The northern nations are the reverse of all this.
With more intensity of purpose, with greater depth of reasoning powers,
and superior solidity of judgment, they are in a great measure destitute
of that sportive and creative brilliancy which hangs like a rainbow over
the spirits of the south, and clothes them in a perpetual sunshine of
delight. The one is chiefly led by the heart, the other by the head. The
one possesses the beauty of a flower-garden, the other the sternness of
the rock, mixed with its severe and naked hardihood. Upon constitutions
so differently organized, it cannot be expected that a given portion of
stimulus will operate with equal power. The airy inflammable nature of
the first, is easily roused to excitation, and manifests feelings which
the second does not experience till he has partaken much more largely
of the stimulating cause. On this account, the one may be inebriated,
and the other remain comparatively sober upon a similar quantity. In
speaking of this subject, it is always to be remembered that a person is
not to be considered a drunkard because he consumes a certain portion of
liquor; but because what he does consume produces certain effects upon
his system. The Russian, therefore, may take six glasses a-day, and be
as temperate as the Italian who takes four, or the Indian who takes two.
But even when this is acceded to, the balance of sobriety will be found
in favour of the south: the inhabitants there not only drink less, but
are, _bonâ fide_, more seldom intoxicated than the others. Those who
have contrasted London and Paris, may easily verify this fact; and those
who have done the same to the cities of Moscow and Rome, can bear still
stronger testimony. Who ever heard of an Englishman sipping _eau sucrée_,
and treating his friends to a glass of lemonade? Yet such things are
common in France; and, of all the practices of that country, they are
those most thoroughly visited by the contemptuous malisons of John Bull.
It is a common belief that wine was the only inebriating liquor known
to antiquity; but this is a mistake. Tacitus mentions the use of ale or
beer as common among the Germans of his time. By the Egyptians, likewise,
whose country was ill adapted to the cultivation of the grape, it was
employed as a substitute for wine. Ale was common in the middle ages;
and Mr. Park states that very good beer is made, by the usual process of
brewing and malting, in the interior of Africa. The favourite drink of
our Saxon ancestors was ale or mead. Those worshippers of Odin were so
notoriously addicted to drunkenness, that it was regarded as honourable
rather than otherwise; and the man who could withstand the greatest
quantity was looked upon with admiration and respect: whence the drunken
songs of the Scandinavian scalds; whence the glories of Valhalla, the
fancied happiness of whose inhabitants consisted in quaffing draughts
from the skulls of their enemies slain in battle. Even ardent spirit,
which is generally supposed to be a modern discovery, existed from a
very early period. It is said to have been first made by the Arabians in
the middle ages, and in all likelihood may lay claim to a still remoter
origin. Alcohol was known to the alchymists as early as the middle of the
twelfth century, although the process of preparing it was by them, at
that time, kept a profound secret. The spirituous liquor called arrack
has been manufactured in the island of Java, as well as in the continent
of Hindostan, from time immemorial. Brandy appears to have been known to
Galen, who recommends it for the cure of voracious appetite;[2] and its
distillation was common in Sicily at the commencement of the fourteenth
century. As to wine, it was so common in ancient times as to have a
tutelar god appropriated to it: Bacchus and his companion Silenus are
as household words in the mouths of all, and constituted most important
features of the heathen mythology. We have all heard of the Falernian and
Campanian wines, and of the wines of Cyprus and Shiraz. Indeed, there
is reason to believe that the ancients were in no respect inferior to
the moderns in the excellence of their vinous liquors, whatever they may
have been in the variety. Wine was so common in the eastern nations, that
Mahomet, foreseeing the baleful effects of its propagation, forbade it
to his followers, who, to compensate themselves, had recourse to opium.
The Gothic or dark ages seem to have been those in which it was least
common: in proof of this it may be mentioned, that in 1298 it was vended
as a cordial by the English apothecaries. At the present day it is little
drunk, except by the upper classes, in those countries which do not
naturally furnish the grape. In those that do, it is so cheap as to come
within the reach of even the lowest.[3]
In speaking of drunkenness, it is impossible not to be struck with the
physical and moral degradation which it has spread over the world.
Wherever intoxicating liquors become general, morality has been found on
the decline. They seem to act like the simoom of the desert, and scatter
destruction and misery around their path. The ruin of Rome was owing
to luxury, of which indulgence in wine was the principal ingredient.
Hannibal’s army fell less by the arms of Scipio than by the wines of
Capua; and the inebriated hero of Macedon, after slaying his friend
Clytus, and burning the palace of Persepolis, expired at last of a fit
of intoxication, in his thirty-third year. A volume might be written in
illustration of the evil effects of dissipation; but this is unnecessary
to those who look carefully around them, and more especially to those who
are conversant with the history of mankind. At the same time, when we
speak of drunkenness as occurring in antiquity, it is proper to remark,
that there were certain countries in which it was viewed in a much
more dishonourable light than by any modern nation. The Nervii refused
to drink wine, alleging that it made them cowardly and effeminate:
these simple people had no idea of what by our seamen is called _Dutch
courage_; they did not feel the necessity of elevating their native
valour by an artificial excitement. The ancient Spartans held ebriety
in such abhorrence, that, with a view to inspire the rising generation
with a due contempt of the vice, it was customary to intoxicate the
slaves and exhibit them publicly in this degraded condition. By the
Indians, drunkenness is looked upon as a species of insanity; and, in
their language, the word _ramgam_, signifying a drunkard, signifies also
a madman. Both the ancients and moderns could jest as well as moralize
upon this subject. “There hangs a bottle of wine,” was the derisive
exclamation of the Roman soldiery, as they pointed to the body of the
drunken Bonosus, who, in a fit of despair, suspended himself upon a tree.
“If you wish to have a shoe of durable materials,” exclaims the facetious
Matthew Langsberg, “you should make the upper leather of the mouth of a
hard drinker—for that never lets in water.”
If we turn from antiquity to our own times, we shall find little cause
to congratulate ourselves upon any improvement. The vice has certainly
diminished among the higher orders of society, but there is every reason
to fear that, of late, it has made fearful strides among the lower.
Thirty or forty years ago, a landlord did not conceive he had done
justice to his guests unless he sent them from his table in a state of
intoxication. This practice still prevails pretty generally in Ireland
and in the Highlands of Scotland, but in other parts of the kingdom it is
fast giving way: and it is to be hoped that the day is not far distant
when greater temperance will extend to these jovial districts, and render
their hospitality a little more consonant with prudence and moderation.
The increase of drunkenness among the lower classes may be imputed to
various causes, and chiefly to the late abandonment of part of the duty
on rum and whisky. This was done with a double motive of benefiting
agriculture and commerce, and of driving the “giant smuggler” from the
field. The latter object it has in a great measure failed of effecting.
The smuggler still plies his trade to a considerable extent, and brings
his commodity to the market with nearly the same certainty of acquiring
profit as ever. It would be well if the liquor vended to the poor
possessed the qualities of that furnished by the contraband dealer; but,
instead of this, it is usually a vile compound of every thing spurious
and pestilent, and seems expressly contrived for the purpose of preying
upon the vitals of the unfortunate victims who partake of it. The extent
to which adulteration has been carried in all kinds of liquor, is indeed
such as to interest every class of society. Wine, for instance, is often
impregnated with alum and sugar of lead, the latter dangerous ingredient
being resorted to by innkeepers and others, to take away the sour taste
so common in bad wines. Even the colour of these liquids is frequently
artificial; and the deep rich complexion so greatly admired by persons
not in the secrets of the trade, is often caused, or at least heightened,
by factitious additions, such as elderberries, bilberries, red-woods,
&c. Alum and sugar of lead are also common in spirituous liquors; and,
in many cases, oil of vitriol, turpentine, and other materials equally
abominable, are to be found in combination with them. That detestable
liquor called British gin, is literally compounded of these ingredients:
nor are malt liquors, with their multifarious narcotic additions,
less thoroughly sophisticated or less detrimental to the health. From
these circumstances, two conclusions must naturally be drawn; _viz._,
that inebriating agents often contain elements of disease foreign to
themselves; and that all persons purchasing them should endeavour to
ascertain the state of their purity, and employ no dealer whose honour
and honesty are not known to be unimpeachable. Liquors, even in their
purest state, are too often injurious to the constitution without the
admixture of poisons.[4]
The varieties of wine are so numerous as almost to defy calculation.
Mr. Brande, in his table,[5] gives a list of no less than forty-four
different kinds; and there are others which he has not enumerated.
Ardent spirits are fewer in number, and may be mostly comprised under
the heads of rum, gin, brandy, and whisky. The first is the prevailing
drink over the West Indies, North America, and such cities of Great
Britain as are intimately connected with these regions by commerce. The
second is extensively used in Holland and Switzerland, the countries
which principally furnish it, and has found its way pretty generally
over the whole of Europe. The third is chiefly produced in Charente
and Languedoc, and is the spirit most commonly found in the south.
The fourth is confined in a great measure to Ireland and Scotland, in
which latter country the best has always been made. Of malt liquors we
have many varieties. Britain, especially England, is the country which
furnishes them in greatest perfection. They are the natural drinks of
Englishmen—the _vinum Anglicorum_, as foreigners have often remarked.
Every town of any consequence in the empire has its Brewery; and in
almost every one is there some difference in the quality of the liquor.
Brown stout, London and Scotch porters, Burton, Dorchester, Edinburgh,
and Alloa ales, are only a few of the endless varieties of these
widely-circulated fluids.
Besides wines, ardent spirits, and malt liquors, there are many other
agents possessing inebriating properties. Among others, the _Peganum
Harmala_ or Syrian rue, so often used by the sultan Solyman; the
_Hibiscus Saldarissa_, which furnishes the Indian bangue, and from
which the _Nepenthes_ of the ancients is supposed to have been made;
the _Balsac_, or Turkish bangue, found on the shores of the Levant;
the _Penang_, or Indian betel; the _Hyoscyamus Niger_; and the _Atropa
Belladonna_. In addition to these, and many more, there are opium,
tobacco, _Cocculus Indicus_, and the innumerable tribes of liqueurs and
ethers, together with other agents of a less potent nature, such as
clary, darnel, and saffron. The variety of agents capable of exciting
drunkenness is indeed surprising, and in proportion to their number seems
the prevalence of that fatal vice to which an improper use of them gives
rise.
CHAPTER II.
CAUSES OF DRUNKENNESS.
The causes of drunkenness are so obvious, that few authors have thought
it necessary to point them out: we shall merely say a few words upon the
subject. There are some persons who will never be drunkards, and others
who will be so in spite of all that can be done to prevent them. Some are
drunkards by choice, and others by necessity. The former have an innate
and constitutional fondness for liquor, and drink _con amore_. Such men
are usually of a sanguineous temperament, of coarse unintellectual minds,
and of low and animal propensities. They have, in general, a certain
rigidity of fibre, and a flow of animal spirits which other people are
without. They delight in the roar and riot of drinking clubs; and with
them, in particular, all the miseries of life may be referred to the
bottle.
The drunkard by necessity was never meant by nature to be dissipated.
He is perhaps a person of amiable dispositions, whom misfortune has
overtaken, and who, instead of bearing up manfully against it, endeavours
to drown his sorrows in liquor. It is an excess of sensibility, a partial
mental weakness, an absolute misery of the heart, which drives him on.
Drunkenness, with him, is a consequence of misfortune; it is a solitary
dissipation preying upon him in silence. Such a man frequently dies
broken-hearted, even before his excesses have had time to destroy him by
their own unassisted agency.
Some become drunkards from excess of indulgence in youth. There are
parents who have a common custom of treating their children to wine,
punch, and other intoxicating liquors. This, in reality, is regularly
bringing them up in an apprenticeship to drunkenness. Others are taught
the vice by frequenting drinking clubs and masonic lodges. These are the
genuine academies of tippling. Two-thirds of the drunkards we meet with,
have been there initiated in that love of intemperance and boisterous
irregularity which distinguish their future lives. Men who are good
singers are very apt to become drunkards, and, in truth, most of them are
so, more or less, especially if they have naturally much joviality or
warmth of temperament. A fine voice to such men is a fatal accomplishment.
Ebriety prevails to an alarming degree among the lower orders of society.
It exists more in towns than in the country, and more among mechanics
than husbandmen. Most of the misery to be observed among the working
classes springs from this source. No persons are more addicted to the
habit, and all its attendant vices, than the pampered servants of the
great. Innkeepers, musicians, actors, and men who lead a rambling and
eccentric life, are exposed to a similar hazard. Husbands sometimes teach
their wives to be drunkards by indulging them in toddy, and such fluids,
every time they themselves sit down to their libations.
Women frequently acquire the vice by drinking porter and ale while
nursing. These stimulants are usually recommended to them, from
well-meant but mistaken motives, by their female attendants. Many fine
young women are ruined by this pernicious practice. Their persons become
gross, their milk unhealthy, and a foundation is too often laid for
future indulgence in liquor.
The frequent use of cordials, such as noyau, shrub, kirsch-wasser,
curaçoa, and anissette, sometimes leads to the practice. The active
principle of these liqueurs is neither more nor less than ardent
spirits.[6]
Among other causes, may be mentioned the excessive use of spirituous
tinctures for the cure of hypochondria and indigestion. Persons who use
strong tea, especially green, run the same risk. The latter species is
singularly hurtful to the constitution, producing hysteria, heartburn,
and general debility of the chylopoetic viscera. Some of these bad
effects are relieved for a time by the use of spirits; and what was at
first employed as a medicine, soon becomes an essential requisite.
Certain occupations have a tendency to induce drunkenness. Innkeepers,
recruiting-sergeants, pugilists, &c., are all exposed in a great degree
to temptation in this respect; and intemperance is a vice which may be
very often justly charged against them. Commercial travellers, also,
taken as a body, are open to the accusation of indulging too freely in
the bottle, although I am not aware that they carry it to such excess
as to entitle many of them to be ranked as drunkards. “Well fed, riding
from town to town, and walking to the houses of the several tradesmen,
they have an employment not only more agreeable, but more conducive to
health than almost any other dependant on traffic. But they destroy their
constitutions by intemperance; not generally by drunkenness, but by
taking more liquor than nature requires. Dining at the traveller’s table,
each drinks his pint or bottle of wine; he then takes negus or spirit
with several of his customers; and at night he must have a glass or two
of brandy and water. Few commercial travellers bear the employ for thirty
years—the majority not twenty.”[7]
Some writers allege that unmarried women, especially if somewhat advanced
in life, are more given to liquor than those who are married. This point
I am unable from my own observation to decide. Women who indulge in this
way, are _solitary_ dram-drinkers, and so would men be, had not the
arbitrary opinions of the world invested the practice in them with much
less moral turpitude than in the opposite sex. Of the two sexes, there
can be no doubt that men are much the more addicted to all sorts of
intemperance.
Drunkenness appears to be in some measure hereditary. We frequently see
it descending from parents to their children. This may undoubtedly often
arise from bad example and imitation, but there can be little question
that, in many instances at least, it exists as a family predisposition.
Men of genius are often unfortunately addicted to drinking. Nature,
as she has gifted them with greater powers than their fellows, seems
also to have mingled with their cup of life more bitterness. There is a
melancholy which is apt to come like a cloud over the imaginations of
such characters. Their minds possess a susceptibility and a delicacy of
structure which unfit them for the gross atmosphere of human nature;
wherefore, high talent has ever been distinguished for sadness and gloom.
Genius lives in a world of its own: it is the essence of a superior
nature—the loftier imaginings of the mind, clothed with a more spiritual
and refined verdure. Few men endowed with such faculties enjoy the
ordinary happiness of humanity. The stream of their lives runs harsh and
broken. Melancholy thoughts sweep perpetually across their souls; and
if these be heightened by misfortune, they are plunged into the deepest
misery.
To relieve these feelings, many plans have been adopted. Dr. Johnson
fled for years to wine under his habitual gloom. He found that the pangs
were removed while its immediate influence lasted, but he also found
that they returned with double force when that influence passed away. He
saw the dangerous precipice on which he stood, and, by an unusual effort
of volition, gave it over. In its stead he substituted tea; and to this
milder stimulus had recourse in his melancholy. Voltaire and Fontenelle,
for the same purpose, used coffee. The excitements of Newton and Hobbes
were the fumes of tobacco, while Demosthenes and Haller were sufficiently
stimulated by drinking freely of cold water. Such are the differences of
constitution.
“As good be melancholy still, as drunken beasts and beggars.” So says
old Burton, in his Anatomy of Melancholy, and there are few who will not
subscribe to his creed. The same author quaintly, but justly, remarks,
“If a drunken man gets a child, it will never, likely, have a good
brain.” Dr. Darwin, a great authority on all subjects connected with
life, says, that he never knew a glutton affected with the gout, who
was not at the same time addicted to liquor. He also observes, “it is
remarkable that all the diseases from drinking spirituous or fermented
liquors are liable to become hereditary, even to the third generation,
gradually increasing, if the cause be continued, till the family becomes
extinct.”[8]
We need not endeavour to trace further the remote causes of drunkenness.
A drunkard is rarely able to recall the particular circumstances which
made him so. The vice creeps upon him insensibly, and he is involved in
its fetters before he is aware. It is enough that we know the proximate
cause, and also the certain consequences. One thing is certain, that a
man who addicts himself to intemperance, can never be said to be sound
in mind or body. The former is a state of partial insanity, while the
effects of the liquor remain; and the latter is always more or less
diseased in its actions.
CHAPTER III.
PHENOMENA OF DRUNKENNESS.
The consequences of drunkenness are dreadful, but the pleasures of
getting drunk are certainly ecstatic. While the illusion lasts, happiness
is complete; care and melancholy are thrown to the wind; and Elysium,
with all its glories, descends upon the dazzled imagination of the
drinker.
Some authors have spoken of the pleasure of being completely drunk; this,
however, is not the most exquisite period. The time is when a person is
neither “drunken nor sober, but neighbour to both,” as Bishop Andrews
says in his “Ex—ale—tation of Ale.” The moment is when the ethereal
emanations begin to float around the brain—when the soul is commencing
to expand its wings and rise from earth—when the tongue feels itself
somewhat loosened in the mouth, and breaks the previous taciturnity, if
any such existed.
What are the sensations of incipient drunkenness? First, an unusual
serenity prevails over the mind, and the soul of the votary is filled
with a placid satisfaction. By degrees he is sensible of a soft and
not unmusical humming in his ears, at every pause of the conversation.
He seems, to himself, to wear his head lighter than usual upon his
shoulders. Then a species of obscurity, thinner than the finest mist,
passes before his eyes, and makes him see objects rather indistinctly.
The lights begin to dance and appear double. A gaiety and warmth are felt
at the same time about the heart. The imagination is expanded, and filled
with a thousand delightful images. He becomes loquacious, and pours
forth, in enthusiastic language, the thoughts which are born, as it were,
within him.
Now comes a spirit of universal contentment with himself and all the
world. He thinks no more of misery: it is dissolved in the bliss of
the moment. This is the acmé of the fit—the ecstasy is now perfect. As
yet the sensorium is in tolerable order: it is only shaken, but the
capability of thinking with accuracy still remains. About this time, the
drunkard pours out all the secrets of his soul. His qualities, good or
bad, come forth without reserve; and now, if at any time, the human heart
may be seen into. In a short period, he is seized with a most inordinate
propensity to talk nonsense, though he is perfectly conscious of doing
so. He also commits many foolish things, knowing them to be foolish.
The power of volition, that faculty which keeps the will subordinate to
the judgment, seems totally weakened. The most delightful time seems
to be that immediately before becoming very talkative. When this takes
place, a man turns ridiculous, and his mirth, though more boisterous, is
not so exquisite. At first the intoxication partakes of sentiment, but,
latterly, it becomes merely animal.
After this the scene thickens. The drunkard’s imagination gets disordered
with the most grotesque conceptions. Instead of moderating his drink, he
pours it down more rapidly than ever: glass follows glass with reckless
energy. His head becomes perfectly giddy. The candles burn blue, or
green, or yellow; and where there are perhaps only three on the table, he
sees a dozen. According to his temperament, he is amorous, or musical,
or quarrelsome. Many possess a most extraordinary wit; and a great flow
of spirits is a general attendant. In the latter stages, the speech is
thick, and the use of the tongue in a great measure lost. His mouth is
half open, and idiotic in the expression; while his eyes are glazed,
wavering, and watery. He is apt to fancy that he has offended some one of
the company, and is ridiculously profuse with his apologies. Frequently
he mistakes one person for another, and imagines that some of those
before him are individuals who are, in reality, absent or even dead. The
muscular powers are, all along, much affected: this indeed happens before
any great change takes place in the mind, and goes on progressively
increasing. He can no longer walk with steadiness, but totters from
side to side. The limbs become powerless, and inadequate to sustain his
weight. He is, however, not always sensible of any deficiency in this
respect: and while exciting mirth by his eccentric motions, imagines
that he walks with the most perfect steadiness. In attempting to run,
he conceives that he passes over the ground with astonishing rapidity.
To his distorted eyes all men, and even inanimate nature itself, seem
to be drunken, while he alone is sober. Houses reel from side to side
as if they had lost their balance; trees and steeples nod like tipsy
Bacchanals; and the very earth seems to slip from under his feet, and
leave him walking and floundering upon the air. The last stage of
drunkenness is total insensibility. The man tumbles perhaps beneath the
table, and is carried away in a state of stupor to his couch. In this
condition he is said to be _dead drunk_.
When the drunkard is put to bed, let us suppose that his faculties are
not totally absorbed in apoplectic stupor; let us suppose that he still
possesses consciousness and feeling, though these are both disordered;
then begins “the tug of war;” then comes the misery which is doomed
to succeed his previous raptures. No sooner is his head laid upon the
pillow, than it is seized with the strongest throbbing. His heart beats
quick and hard against the ribs. A noise like the distant fall of a
cascade, or rushing of a river, is heard in his ears: sough—sough—sough,
goes the sound. His senses now become more drowned and stupified. A dim
recollection of his carousals, like a shadowy and indistinct dream,
passes before the mind. He still hears, as in echo, the cries and
laughter of his companions. Wild fantastic fancies accumulate thickly
around the brain. His giddiness is greater than ever; and he feels as if
in a ship tossed upon a heaving sea. At last he drops insensibly into a
profound slumber.
In the morning he awakes in a high fever. The whole body is parched;
the palms of the hands, in particular, are like leather. His head is
often violently painful. He feels excessive thirst; while his tongue is
white, dry, and stiff. The whole inside of the mouth is likewise hot and
constricted, and the throat often sore. Then look at his eyes—how sickly,
dull, and languid! The fire, which first lighted them up the evening
before, is all gone. A stupor like that of the last stage of drunkenness
still clings about them, and they are disagreeably affected by the light.
The complexion sustains as great a change: it is no longer flushed with
the gaiety and excitation, but pale and wayworn, indicating a profound
mental and bodily exhaustion. There is probably sickness, and the
appetite is totally gone. Even yet the delirium of intoxication has not
left him, for his head still rings, his heart still throbs violently; and
if he attempt getting up, he stumbles with giddiness. The mind also is
sadly depressed, and the proceedings of the previous night are painfully
remembered. He is sorry for his conduct, promises solemnly never again
so to commit himself, and calls impatiently for something to quench his
thirst. Such are the usual phenomena of a fit of drunkenness.
In the beginning of intoxication we are inclined to sleep, especially if
we indulge alone. In companies, the noise and opportunity of conversing
prevent this; and when a certain quantity has been drunk, the drowsy
tendency wears away. A person who wishes to stand out well, should never
talk much. This increases the effects of the liquor, and hurries on
intoxication. Hence, every experienced drunkard holds it to be a piece of
prudence to keep his tongue under restraint.
The giddiness of intoxication is always greater in darkness than in the
light. I know of no rational way in which this can be explained; but,
certain it is, the drunkard never so well knows his true condition as
when alone and in darkness. Possibly the noise and light distracted the
mind, and made the bodily sensations be, for the time, in some measure
unfelt.
There are some persons who get sick from drinking even a small quantity;
and this sickness is, upon the whole, a favourable circumstance, as it
proves an effectual curb upon them, however much they may be disposed
to intemperance. In such cases, it will generally be found that the
sickness takes place as soon as vertigo makes its appearance: it seems,
in reality, to be produced by this sensation. This, however, is a rare
circumstance, for though vertigo from ordinary causes has a strong
tendency to produce sickness, that arising from drunkenness has seldom
this effect. The nausea and sickness sometimes occurring in intoxication,
proceed almost always from the surcharged and disordered state of the
stomach, and very seldom from the accompanying giddiness.
Intoxication, before it proceeds too far, has a powerful tendency to
increase the appetite. Perhaps it would be more correct to say, that
inebriating liquors, by stimulating the stomach, have this power. We
often see gluttony and drunkenness combined together at the same time.
This continues till the last stage, when, from overloading and excess of
irritation, the stomach expels its contents by vomiting.
All along, the action of the kidneys is much increased, especially at the
commencement of intoxication. When a large quantity of intoxicating fluid
has been suddenly taken into the stomach, the usual preliminary symptoms
of drunkenness do not appear. An instantaneous stupefaction ensues; and
the person is at once knocked down. This cannot be imputed to distention
of the cerebral vessels, but to a sudden operation on the nervous
branches of the stomach. The brain is thrown into a state of collapse,
and many of its functions suspended. In such cases, the face is not at
first tumid and ruddy, but pale and contracted. The pulse is likewise
feeble, and the body cold and powerless. When re-action takes place,
these symptoms wear off, and those of sanguineous apoplexy succeed;
such as turgid countenance, full but slow pulse, and strong stertorous
breathing. The vessels of the brain have now become filled, and there is
a strong determination to that organ.
Persons of tender or compassionate minds are particularly subject, during
intoxication, to be affected to tears at the sight of any distressing
object, or even on hearing an affecting tale. Drunkenness in such
characters, may be said to melt the heart, and open up the fountains
of sorrow. Their sympathy is often ridiculous, and aroused by the most
trifling causes. Those who have a living imagination, combined with this
tenderness of heart, sometimes conceive fictitious causes of distress,
and weep bitterly at the wo of their own creating.
There are some persons in whom drunkenness calls forth a spirit of
piety, or rather of religious hypocrisy, which is both ludicrous and
disgusting. They become sentimental over their cups; and, while in a
state of debasement most offensive to God and man, they will weep at the
wickedness of the human heart, entreat you to eschew swearing and profane
company, and have a greater regard for the welfare of your immortal soul.
These sanctimonious drunkards seem to consider ebriety as the most venial
of offences.
During a paroxysm of drunkenness, the body is much less sensible to
external stimuli than at other times: it is particularly capable
of resisting cold. Seamen, when absent on shore, are prone to get
intoxicated; and they will frequently lie for hours on the highway,
even in the depth of winter without any bad consequences. A drunk man
seldom shivers from cold. His frame seems steeled against it, and he
holds out with an apathy which is astonishing. The body is, in like
manner, insensible to injuries, such as cuts, bruises, &c. He frequently
receives, in fighting, the most severe blows, without seemingly feeling
them, and without, in fact, being aware of the matter till sobered.
Persons in intoxication have been known to chop off their fingers, and
otherwise disfigure themselves, laughing all the while at the action.
But when the paroxysm is off, and the frame weakened, things are changed.
External agents are then withstood with little vigour, with even less
than in the natural state of the body. The person shivers on the
slightest chill, and is more than usually subject to fevers and all sorts
of contagion.
External stimuli frequently break the fit. Men have been instantly
sobered by having a bucket of cold water thrown upon them, or by falling
into a stream. Strong emotions of the mind produce the same effect,
such as the sense of danger, or a piece of good or bad news, suddenly
communicated.
There are particular situations and circumstances in which a man can
stand liquor better than in others. In the close atmosphere of a large
town, he is soon overpowered; and it is here that the genuine drunkard is
to be met with in the greatest perfection. In the country, especially in
a mountainous district, or on the sea-shore, where the air is cold and
piercing, a great quantity may be taken with impunity. The highlanders
drink largely of ardent spirits, and they are often intoxicated, yet,
among them, there are comparatively few who can be called habitual
drunkards. A keen air seems to deaden its effects, and it soon
evaporates from their constitutions. Sailors and soldiers who are hard
wrought, also consume enormous quantities without injury: porters and all
sorts of labourers do the same. With these men exercise is a corrective;
but in towns, where no counteracting agency is employed, it acts with
irresistible power upon the frame, and soon proves destructive.
A great quantity of liquors may also be taken without inebriating, in
certain diseases, such as spasm, tetanus, gangrene, and retrocedent gout.
Certain circumstances of constitution make one person naturally more
apt to get intoxicated than another. “Mr. Pitt,” says a modern writer,
“would retire in the midst of a warm debate, and enliven his faculties
with a couple of bottles of Port. Pitt’s constitution enabled him to do
this with impunity. He was afflicted with what is called a coldness of
stomach; and the quantity of wine that would have closed the oratory of
so professed a Bacchanalian as Sheridan, scarcely excited the son of
Chatham.”[9]
All kinds of intoxicating agents act much more rapidly and powerfully
upon an empty than upon a full stomach. In like manner, when the stomach
is disordered, and subject to weakness, heartburn, or disease of any
kind, ebriety is more rapidly produced than when this organ is sound and
healthy.
The stomach may get accustomed to a strong stimulus, and resist it
powerfully, while it yields to one much weaker. I have known people who
could drink eight or ten glasses of raw spirits at a sitting without
feeling them much, become perfectly intoxicated by half the quantity made
into toddy. In like manner, he who is in the constant habit of using one
spirit—rum, for instance—cannot, for the most part, indulge to an equal
extent in another, without experiencing more severe effects than if he
had partaken of his usual beverage. This happens even when the strength
of the two liquors is the same.
The mind exercises a considerable effect upon drunkenness, and may
often control it powerfully. When in the company of a superior whom we
respect, or of a female in whose presence it would be indelicate to get
intoxicated, a much greater portion of liquor may be withstood than in
societies where no such restraints operate.
Drunkenness has sometimes a curious effect upon the memory. Actions
committed during intoxication may be forgotten on a recovery from
this state, and remembered distinctly when the person becomes again
intoxicated. Drunkenness has thus an analogy to dreaming, in which state
circumstances are occasionally brought to mind which had entirely
been forgotten. The same thing may also occur in fevers, wherein even
languages with which we were familiar in childhood or youth, but had
forgotten, are renewed upon the memory and pass away from it again when
the disease which recalled them is removed.
With most people intoxication is a gradual process, and increases
progressively as they pour down the liquor; but there are some
individuals in whom it takes place suddenly, and without any previous
indication of its approach. It is not uncommon to see such persons sit
for hours at the bottle without experiencing any thing beyond a moderate
elevation of spirits, yet assume all at once the outrage and boisterous
irregularity of the most decided drunkenness.
Some drunkards retain their senses after the physical powers are quite
exhausted. Others, even when the mind is wrought to a pitch leading to
the most absurd actions, preserve a degree of cunning and observation
which enables them to elude the tricks which their companions are
preparing to play upon them. In such cases, they display great address,
and take the first opportunity of retaliating; or, if such does not
occur, of slipping out of the room unobserved and getting away. Some,
while the whole mind seems locked up in the stupor of forgetfulness, hear
all that is going on. No one should ever presume on the intoxicated
state of another to talk of him detractingly in his presence. While
apparently deprived of all sensation, he may be an attentive listener;
and whatever is said, though unheeded at the moment, is not forgotten
afterwards, but treasured carefully up in the memory. Much discord and
ill-will frequently arise from such imprudence.
There are persons who are exceedingly profuse, and fond of giving away
their money, watches, rings, &c., to the company. This peculiarity will
never, I believe, be found in a miser: avarice is a passion strong under
every circumstance. Drinking does not loosen the grasp of the covetous
man, or open his heart: he is for ever the same.
The generality of people are apt to talk of their private affairs when
intoxicated. They then reveal the most deeply-hidden secrets to their
companions. Others have their minds so happily constituted that nothing
escapes them. They are, even in their most unguarded moments, secret and
close as the grave.
The natural disposition may be better discovered in drunkenness than at
any other time. In modern society, life is all a disguise. Almost every
man walks in masquerade, and his most intimate friend very often does not
know his real character. Many wear smiles constantly upon their cheeks,
whose hearts are unprincipled and treacherous. Many with violent tempers
have all the external calm and softness of charity itself. Some speak
always with sympathy, who, at soul, are full of gall and bitterness.
Intoxication tears off the veil, and sets each in his true light,
whatever that may be. The combative man will quarrel, the amorous will
love, the detractor will abuse his neighbour. I have known exceptions,
but they are few in number. At one time they seemed more numerous,
but closer observation convinced me that most of those whom I thought
drunkenness had libelled, inherited, at bottom, the genuine dispositions
which it brought forth. The exceptions, however, which now and then occur
are sufficiently striking, and point out the injustice of always judging
of a man’s real disposition from his drunken moments. To use the words
of Addison, “Not only does this vice betray the hidden faults of a man,
and show them in the most odious colours, but often occasions faults to
which he is not naturally subject. Wine throws a man out of himself, and
infuses qualities into the mind which she is a stranger to in her sober
moments.” The well known maxim, “_in vino veritas_,” therefore, though
very generally true, is to be received with some restrictions, although
these, I am satisfied, are not by any means so numerous as many authors
would have us to believe.
CHAPTER IV.
DRUNKENNESS MODIFIED BY TEMPERAMENT.
Under the last head I have described the usual phenomena of intoxication;
but it is necessary to remark, that these are apt to be modified by the
physical and moral frame of the drinker. Great diversity of opinion
exists with regard to the doctrine of the temperaments; some authors
affirming, and others denying their existence. Into this controversy it
is needless to enter. All I contend for is, that the bodily and mental
constitution of every man is not alike, and that on these peculiarities
depend certain differences during a paroxysm of drunkenness.
I. _Sanguineous Drunkard._—The sanguine temperament seems to feel most
intensely the excitement of the bottle. Persons of this stamp have
usually a ruddy complexion, thick neck, small head, and strong muscular
fibre. Their intellect is in general _mediocre_, for great bodily
strength and corresponding mental powers are rarely united together.
In such people, the animal propensities prevail over the moral and
intellectual ones. They are prone to combativeness and sensuality, and
are either very good-natured or extremely quarrelsome. All their passions
are keen: like the Irish women, they will fight for their friends or
with them as occasion requires. They are talkative from the beginning,
and, during confirmed intoxication, perfectly obstreperous. It is men of
this class who are the heroes of all drunken companies, the patrons of
masonic lodges, the presidents and getters-up of jovial meetings. With
them, eating and drinking are the grand ends of human life. Look at their
eyes, how they sparkle at the sight of wine, and how their lips smack and
their teeth water in the neighbourhood of a good dinner: they would scent
out a banquet in Siberia. When intoxicated, their passions are highly
excited: the energies of a hundred minds then seem concentrated into one
focus. Their mirth, their anger, their love, their folly, are all equally
intense and unquenchable. Such men cannot conceal their feelings. In
drunkenness, the veil is removed from them, and their characters stand
revealed, as in a glass, to the eye of the beholder. The Roderick Random
of Smollett had much of this temperament, blended, however, with more
intellect than usually belongs to it.
II. _Melancholy Drunkard._—Melancholy, in drunkards, sometimes arises
from temperament, but more frequently from habitual intoxication or
misfortune. Some men are melancholy by nature, but become highly mirthful
when they have drunk a considerable quantity. Men of this tone of mind
seem to enjoy the bottle more exquisitely than even the sanguineous
class. The joyousness which it excites breaks in upon their gloom like
sunshine upon darkness. Above all, the sensations, at the moment when
mirth begins with its magic to charm away care, are inexpressible.
Pleasure falls in showers of fragrance upon their souls; they are at
peace with themselves and all mankind, and enjoy, as it were, a foretaste
of paradise. Robert Burns was an example of this variety. His melancholy
was constitutional, but heightened by misfortune. The bottle commonly
dispelled it, and gave rise to the most delightful images; sometimes,
however, it only aggravated the gloom.
III. _Surly Drunkard._—Some men are not excited to mirth by intoxication:
on the contrary, it renders them gloomy and discontented. Even those
who in the sober state are sufficiently gay, become occasionally thus
altered. A great propensity to take offence is a characteristic among
persons of this temperament. They are suspicious, and very often
mischievous. If at some former period they have had a difference with
any of the company, they are sure to revive it, although, probably, it
has been long ago cemented on both sides, and even forgotten by the
other party. People of this description are very unpleasant companions.
They are in general so foul-tongued, quarrelsome, and indecent in
conversation, that established clubs of drinkers have made it a practice
to exclude them from their society.
IV. _Phlegmatic Drunkard._—Persons of this temperament are heavy-rolling
machines, and, like the above, are not roused to mirth by liquor.
Their vital actions are dull and spiritless—the blood in their veins
as sluggish as the river Jordan, and their energies stagnant as the
Dead Sea. They are altogether a negative sort of beings, with passions
too inert to lead them to any thing very good or very bad. They are a
species of animated clods, but not thoroughly animated—for the vital
fire of feeling has got cooled in penetrating their frozen frames. A new
Prometheus would require to breathe into their nostrils, to give them the
ordinary glow and warmth of humanity. Look at a phlegmatic man—how dead,
passionless, and uninspired is the expression of his clammy lips and
vacant eye! Speak to him—how cold, slow, and tame is his conversation!
the words come forth as if they were drawn from his mouth with a pair
of pincers; and the ideas are as frozen as if concocted in the bowels
of Lapland. Liquor produces no effect upon his mental powers; or, if it
does, it is a smothering one. The whole energies of the drink fall on his
almost impassive frame. From the first, his drunkenness is stupifying;
he is seized with a kind of lethargy, the white of his eyes turns up,
he breathes loud and harshly, and sinks into an apoplectic stupor. Yet
all this is perfectly harmless, and wears away without leaving any mark
behind it.
Such persons are very apt to be played upon by their companions. There
are few men who, in their younger days have not assisted in shaving the
heads and painting the faces of these lethargic drunkards.
V. _Nervous Drunkard._—This is a very harmless and very tiresome
personage. Generally of a weak mind and irritable constitution, he does
not become boisterous with mirth, and rarely shows the least glimmering
of wit or mental energy. He is talkative and fond of long-winded
stories, which he tells in a drivelling, silly manner. Never warmed into
enthusiasm by liquor, he keeps chatting at some ridiculous tale, very
much in the way of a garrulous old man in his dotage.[10]
VI. _Choleric Drunkard._—There are a variety of drunkards whom I can only
class under the above title. They seem to possess few of the qualities
of the other races, and are chiefly distinguished by an uncommon
testiness of disposition. They are quick, irritable, and impatient, but
withal good at heart, and, when in humour, very pleasant and generous.
They are easily put out of temper, but it returns almost immediately.
This disposition is very prevalent among Welshmen and Highland lairds.
Mountaineers are usually quick-tempered; but such men are not the worst
or most unpleasant. Sterne is undoubtedly right when he says that more
virtue is to be found in warm than cold dispositions. Commodore Trunnion
is a marked example of this temperament; and Captain Fluellen, who
compelled the _heroic_ Pistol to eat the leek, is another.
VII. _Periodical Drunkard._—There are persons whose temperaments are so
peculiarly constituted, that they indulge to excess _periodically_, and
are, in the intervals of these indulgences, remarkably sober. This is not
a very common case, but I have known more than one instance of it; and a
gentleman, distinguished by the power of his eloquence in the senate and
at the bar, is said to furnish another. In the cases which I have known,
the drunken mania, for it can get no other name, came on three or four
times a-year. The persons, from a state of complete sobriety, felt the
most intense desire for drink; and no power, short of absolute force or
confinement could restrain them from the indulgence. In every case they
seemed to be quite aware of the uncontrollable nature of their passion,
and proceeded systematically by confining themselves to their room, and
procuring a large quantity of ardent spirits. As soon as this was done,
they commenced and drank to excess till vomiting ensued, and the stomach
absolutely refused to receive another drop of liquor. This state may last
a few days or a few weeks, according to constitutional strength, or the
rapidity with which the libations are poured down. During the continuance
of the attack, the individual exhibits such a state of mind as may be
looked for from his peculiar temperament; he may be sanguineous, or
melancholy, or surly, or phlegmatic, or nervous, or choleric. So soon as
the stomach rejects every thing that is swallowed, and severe sickness
comes on, the fit ceases. From that moment, recovery takes place, and
his former fondness for liquor is succeeded by aversion or disgust.
This gains such ascendancy over him, that he abstains religiously from
it for weeks, or months, or even for a year, as the case may be. During
this interval he leads a life of the most exemplary temperance, drinking
nothing but cold water, and probably shunning every society where he is
likely to be exposed to indulgence. So soon as this period of sobriety
has expired, the fit again comes on; and he continues playing the same
game for perhaps the better part of a long life. This class of persons I
would call periodical drunkards.
These different varieties are sometimes found strongly marked; at other
times so blended together that it is not easy to say which predominates.
The most agreeable drunkard is he whose temperament lies between the
sanguineous and the melancholic. The genuine sanguineous is a sad noisy
dog, and so common, that every person must have met with him. The naval
service furnishes a great many gentlemen of this description. The
phlegmatic, I think, is rarer, but both the nervous and the surly are not
unusual.
CHAPTER V.
DRUNKENNESS MODIFIED BY THE INEBRIATING AGENT.
Intoxication is not only influenced by temperament, but by the nature of
the agent which produces it. Thus, ebriety from ardent spirits differs in
some particulars from that brought on by opium or malt liquors, such as
porter and ale.
I. _Modified by Ardent Spirits._—Alcohol is the principle of intoxication
in all liquors. It is this which gives to wine,[11] ale, and spirits,
their characteristic properties. In the natural state, however, it is
so pungent, that it could not be received into the stomach, even in a
moderate quantity, without producing death. It can, therefore, only be
used in dilution; and in this state we have it, from the strongest ardent
spirits, to simple small beer. The first (ardent spirits) being the most
concentrated of its combinations, act most rapidly upon the constitution.
They are more inflammatory, and intoxicate sooner than any of the others.
Swallowed in an overdose, they act almost instantaneously—extinguishing
the senses and overcoming the whole body with a sudden stupor. When
spirits are swallowed raw, as in the form of a dram, they excite a glow
of heat in the throat and stomach, succeeded, in those who are not much
accustomed to their use, by a flushing of the countenance, and a copious
discharge of tears. They are strongly diuretic.
Persons who indulge too much in spirits rarely get corpulent, unless
their indulgence be coupled with good living. Their bodies become
emaciated; they get spindle-shanked; their eyes are glazed and hollow;
their cheeks fall in; and a premature old age overtakes them. They do
not eat so well as their brother drunkards. An insatiable desire for a
morning dram makes them early risers, and their breakfast amounts to
almost nothing.
The principal varieties of spirits, as already mentioned, are rum,
brandy, whisky, and gin. It is needless to enter into any detail of the
history of these fluids. Brandy kills soonest; it takes most rapidly
to the head, and, more readily than the others, tinges the face to a
crimson or livid hue. Rum is probably the next in point of fatality; and,
after that, whisky and gin. The superior diuretic qualities of the two
latter, and the less luscious sources from which they are procured, may
possibly account for such differences. I am, at the same time, aware that
some persons entertain a different idea of the relative danger of these
liquors: some, for instance, conceive that gin is more rapidly fatal than
any of them; but it is to be remembered, that it, more than any other
ardent spirit, is liable to adulteration. That, from this circumstance,
more lives may be lost by its use, I do not deny. In speaking of gin,
however, and comparing its effects with those of the rest of the class
to which it belongs, I must be understood to speak of it in its pure
condition, and not in that detestable state of sophistication in which
such vast quantities of it are drunk in London and elsewhere. When pure,
I have no hesitation in affirming that it is decidedly more wholesome
than either brandy or rum; and that the popular belief of its greater
tendency to produce dropsy, is quite unfounded.
An experiment has lately been made for the purpose of ascertaining the
comparative powers of gin, brandy, and rum, upon the human body, which
is not less remarkable for the inconsequent conclusions deduced from it,
than for the ignorance it displays in confounding dead animal matter with
the living fibre. It was made as follows:—
A piece of raw liver was put into a glass of gin, another into a glass
of rum, and a third into a glass of brandy. That in the gin was, in a
given time, partially decomposed; that in the rum, in the same time, not
diminished; and that in the brandy quite dissolved. It was concluded from
these results, that rum was the most wholesome spirit of the three, and
brandy the least. The inferences deduced from these premises are not only
erroneous, but glaringly absurd; the premises would even afford grounds
for drawing results of the very opposite nature: it might be said, for
instance, that though brandy be capable of dissolving dead animal matter,
there is no evidence that it can do the same to the living stomach, and
that it would in reality prove less hurtful than the others, in so far
as it would, more effectually than they, dissolve the food contained in
that organ. These experiments, in fact, prove nothing; and could only
have been suggested by one completely ignorant of the functions of the
animal economy. There is a power inherent in the vital principle which
resists the laws that operate upon dead matter. This is known to every
practitioner, and is the reason why the most plausible and recondite
speculations of chemistry have come to naught in their trials upon the
living frame. The only way to judge of the respective effects of ardent
spirits, is by experience and physiological reasoning, both of which
inform us that the spirit most powerfully diuretic must rank highest
in the scale of safety. Now and then persons are met with on whose
frames both gin and whisky have a much more heating effect than the two
other varieties of spirits. This, however, is not common, and when it
does occur, can only be referred to some unaccountable idiosyncrasy of
constitution.
II. _Modified by Wines._—Drunkenness from wines closely resembles that
from ardent spirits. It is equally airy and volatile, more especially if
the light wines, such as Champaign, Claret, Chambertin, or Volnay, be
drunk. On the former, a person may get tipsy several times of a night.
The fixed air evolved from it produces a feeling analogous to ebriety,
independent of the spirit it contains, Port, Sherry, and Madeira, are
heavier wines, and have a stronger tendency to excite headach and fever.
The wine-bibber has usually an ominous rotundity of face, and, not
unfrequently, of corporation. His nose is well studded over with
carbuncles of the Claret complexion; and the red of his cheeks resembles
very closely the hue of that wine. The drunkard from ardent spirits is
apt to be a poor, miserable, emaciated figure, broken in mind and in
fortune; but the votary of the juice of the grape may usually boast the
“paunch well lined with capon,” and calls to recollection the bluff
figure of Sir John Falstaff over his potations of Sack.[12]
III. _Modified by Malt Liquors._—Malt Liquors, under which title we
include all kinds of porter and ales, produce the worst species of
drunkenness; as, in addition to the intoxicating principle, some noxious
ingredients are usually added, for the purpose of preserving them and
giving them their bitter. The hop of these fluids is highly narcotic,
and brewers often add other substances, to heighten its effect, such as
hyoscyamus, opium, belladonna, cocculus Indicus, lauro cerasus, &c. Malt
liquors, therefore, act in two ways upon the body, partly by the alcohol
they contain, and partly by the narcotic principle. In addition to this,
the fermentation which they undergo is much less perfect than that of
spirits or wine. After being swallowed, this process is carried on in the
stomach, by which fixed air is copiously liberated, and the digestion of
delicate stomachs materially impaired. Cider, Spruce, ginger, and table
beers, in consequence of their imperfect fermentation, often produce the
same bad effects, long after their first briskness has vanished.
Persons addicted to malt liquors increase enormously in bulk. They become
loaded with fat: their chin gets double or triple, the eye prominent,
and the whole face bloated and stupid. Their circulation is clogged,
while the pulse feels like a cord, and is full and labouring, but not
quick. During sleep, the breathing is stertorous. Every thing indicates
an excess of blood; and when a pound or two is taken away, immense
relief is obtained. The blood, in such cases, is more dark and sizy than
in the others. In seven cases out of ten, malt-liquor drunkards die of
apoplexy or palsy. If they escape this hazard, swelled liver or dropsy
carries them off. The abdomen seldom loses its prominency, but the lower
extremities get ultimately emaciated. Profuse bleedings frequently ensue
from the nose, and save life, by emptying the blood-vessels of the brain.
The drunkenness in question is peculiarly of British growth. The most
noted examples of it are to be found in innkeepers and their wives,
recruiting sergeants, guards of stage-coaches, &c. The quantity of malt
liquors which such persons will consume in a day is prodigious. Seven
English pints is quite a common allowance, and not unfrequently twice
that quantity is taken without any perceptible effect. Many of the
coal-heavers on the Thames think nothing of drinking daily two gallons of
porter, especially in the summer season, when they labour under profuse
perspirations. A friend has informed me that he knew an instance of one
of them having consumed eighteen pints in one day, and he states that
there are many such instances.[13]
The effects of malt liquors on the body, if not so immediately rapid as
those of ardent spirits, are more stupifying, more lasting, and less
easily removed. The last are particularly prone to produce levity and
mirth, but the first have a stunning influence upon the brain, and, in a
short time, render dull and sluggish the gayest disposition. They also
produce sickness and vomiting more readily than either spirits or wine.
Both wine and malt liquors have a greater tendency to swell the body than
ardent spirits. They form blood with greater rapidity, and are altogether
more nourishing. The most dreadful effects, upon the whole, are brought
on by spirits, but drunkenness from malt liquors is the most speedily
fatal. The former break down the body by degrees; the latter operate by
some instantaneous apoplexy or rapid inflammation.
No one has ever given the respective characters of the malt-liquor and
ardent-spirit drunkard with greater truth than Hogarth, in his Beer Alley
and Gin Lane. The first is represented as plump, rubicund, and bloated;
the second as pale, tottering, and emaciated, and dashed over with the
aspect of blank despair.
IV. _Modified by Opium._—The drunkenness produced by opium has also some
characteristics which it is necessary to mention. The drug is principally
employed by the Mahometans. By their religion, these people are forbidden
the use of wine,[14] and use opium as a substitute. And a delightful
substitute it is while the first excitation continues; for the images it
occasions in the mind are more exquisite than any produced even by wine.
There is reason to believe that the use of this medicine has, of late
years, gained ground in Great Britain. We are told by the “English
Opium-Eater,” whose powerful and interesting “Confessions” have excited
so deep an interest, that the practice exists among the work people at
Manchester. Many of our fashionable ladies have recourse to it when
troubled with vapours, or low spirits: some of them even carry it about
with them for the purpose. This practice is most pernicious, and no way
different from that of drunkards, who swallow wine and other liquors to
drive away care. While the first effects continue, the intended purpose
is sufficiently gained, but the melancholy which follows is infinitely
greater than can be compensated by the previous exhilaration.
Opium acts differently on different constitutions. While it disposes
some to calm, it arouses others to fury. Whatever passion predominates
at the time, it increases; whether it be love, or hatred, or revenge, or
benevolence. Lord Kaimes, in his Sketches of Man, speaks of the fanatical
Faquirs, who, when excited by this drug, have been known with poisoned
daggers, to assail and butcher every European whom they could overcome.
In the century before last, one of this nation attacked a body of Dutch
sailors, and murdered seventeen of them in one minute. The Malays are
strongly addicted to opium. When violently aroused by it, they sometimes
perform what is called _Running-a-Muck_, which consists in rushing out in
a state of phrensied excitement, heightened by fanaticism, and murdering
every one who comes in their way. The Turkish commanders are well aware
of the powers of this drug in inspiring an artificial courage; and
frequently give it to their men when they put them on any enterprise of
great danger.
Some minds are rendered melancholy by opium. Its usual effect, however,
is to give rise to lively and happy sensations. The late Duchess of
Gordon is said to have used it freely, previous to appearing in great
parties, where she wished to shine by the gaiety of her conversation and
brilliancy of her wit. A celebrated pleader at the Scotch bar is reported
to do the same thing, and always with a happy effect.
In this country opium is much used, but seldom with the view of producing
intoxication. Some, indeed, deny that it can do so, strictly speaking.
If by intoxication is meant a state precisely similar to that from
over-indulgence in vinous or spirituous liquors, they are undoubtedly
right; but drunkenness merits a wider latitude of signification. The
ecstasies of opium are much more entrancing than those of wine. There
is more poetry in its visions—more mental aggrandizement—more range of
imagination. Wine, in common with it, invigorates the animal powers and
propensities, but opium, in a more peculiar manner, strengthens those
proper to man, and gives, for a period amounting to hours, a higher
tone to the intellectual faculties. It inspires the mind with a thousand
delightful images, lifts the soul from earth, and casts a halo of poetic
thought and feeling over the spirits of the most unimaginative. Under
its influence, the mind wears no longer that blank passionless aspect
which, even in gifted natures, it is apt to assume. On the contrary, it
is clothed with beauty “as with a garment,” and colours every thought
that passes through it with the hues of wonder and romance. Such are the
feelings which the luxurious and opulent Mussulman seeks to enjoy. To
stir up the languid current of his mind, satiated with excess of pleasure
and rendered sluggish by indolence, he has recourse to that remedy which
his own genial climate produces in greatest perfection. Seated perhaps
amid the luxuries of Oriental splendour—with fountains bubbling around,
and the citron shading him with its canopy, and scattering perfume on all
sides—he lets loose the reins of an imagination conversant from infancy
with every thing gorgeous and magnificent. The veil which shades the
world of fancy is withdrawn, and the wonders lying behind it exposed
to view; he sees palaces and temples in the clouds; or the Paradise of
Mahomet, with its houris and bowers of amaranth, may stand revealed to
his excited senses. Every thing is steeped in poetic exaggeration. The
zephyrs seem converted into aërial music, the trees bear golden fruit,
the rose blushes with unaccustomed beauty and perfume. Earth, in a word,
is brought nearer to the sky, and becomes one vast Eden of pleasure. Such
are the first effects of opium; but in proportion as they are great, so
is the depression which succeeds them. Languor and exhaustion invariably
come after; to remove which, the drug is again had recourse to, and
becomes almost an essential of existence.
Opium retains at all times its power of exciting the imagination,
provided sufficient doses are taken. But when it has been continued so
long as to bring disease upon the constitution, the pleasurable feelings
wear away, and are succeeded by others of a very different kind. Instead
of disposing the mind to be happy, it now acts upon it like the spell of
a demon, and calls up phantoms of horror and disgust. The fancy is still
as powerful as ever, but it is turned in another direction. Formerly it
clothed all objects with the light of heaven; now it invests them with
the attributes of hell. Goblins, spectres, and every kind of distempered
vision haunt the mind, peopling it with dreary and revolting imagery.
The sleep is no longer cheered with its former sights of happiness.
Frightful dreams usurp their place, till, at last, the person becomes
the victim of an almost perpetual misery.[15] Nor is this confined to
the mind alone, for the body suffers in an equal degree. Emaciation,
loss of appetite, sickness, vomiting, and a total disorganization of the
digestive functions, as well as of the mental powers, are sure to ensue,
and never fail to terminate in death, if the evil habit which brings them
on is continued.
Opium resembles the other agents of intoxication in this, that the
fondness for it increases with use, and that at last, it becomes nearly
essential for bodily comfort and peace of mind. The quantity which may
be taken varies exceedingly, and depends wholly upon age, constitution,
and habit. A single drop of laudanum has been known to kill a newborn
child; and four grains of solid opium have destroyed an adult. Certain
diseases, such as fevers, phrensies, &c., facilitate the action of opium
upon the system; others, such as diarrhœa, cramp, &c., resist it; and
a quantity which would destroy life in the former, would have little
perceptible effect in the latter. By habit, enormous quantities of the
drug may be taken with comparative impunity. There are many persons in
this country who make a practice of swallowing half an ounce of laudanum
night and morning, and some will even take from one to two drachms
daily of solid opium. The Teriakis, or opium-eaters of Constantinople,
will sometimes swallow a hundred grains at a single dose. Nay, it is
confidently affirmed that some of them will take at once three drachms in
the morning, and repeat the same dose at night, with no other effect than
a pleasing exhilaration of spirits. The “English Opium-Eater” himself
furnishes one of the most extraordinary instances on record of the power
of habit in bringing the body to withstand this drug. He took daily
_eight thousand drops_ of laudanum, containing _three hundred and twenty
grains_ of opium. This enormous quantity he reduced suddenly, and without
any considerable effort, to _one thousand drops_, or _forty grains_.
“Instantaneously,” says he, “and as if by magic, the cloud of profoundest
melancholy which rested upon my brain, like some black vapours which I
have seen roll away from the summits of the mountains, drew off in one
day—passed off with its murky banners, as simultaneously as a ship that
has been stranded, and is floated off by the spring-tide.”
The circumstance of the body being brought by degrees to withstand a
great quantity of opium is not solitary, but exists as a general rule
with regard to all stimulants and narcotics. A person who is in the habit
of drinking ale, wine, or spirits, will take much more with impunity than
one who is not; and the faculty of withstanding these agents goes on
strengthening till it acquires a certain point, after which it becomes
weakened. When this takes place, there is either organic disease or
general debility. A confirmed drunkard, whose constitution has suffered
from indulgence, cannot take so much liquor, without feeling it, as one
who is in the habit of taking his glass, but whose strength is yet
unimpaired. It is, I suspect, the same, though probably in a less degree,
with regard to opium.
Mithridates, king of Pontus, affords an instance of the effects of habit
in enabling the body to withstand poisons; and on the same principle, we
find that physicians and nurses who are much exposed to infection, are
less liable to take it than those persons whose frames are not similarly
fortified.
Opium resembles wine, spirit, and ales, in affecting the brain and
disposing to apoplexy. Taken in an overdose, it is fatal in from six
to twenty-four hours, according to the quantity swallowed, and the
constitution, habits, &c., of the person submitted to its operation. The
following are the principal symptoms of poisoning from opium. Giddiness
succeeded by stupor; insensibility to light, while the eyes are closed,
and the pupil immoveable, and sometimes dilated. The pulse is generally
small and feeble, but, occasionally, slow and full, as in common
apoplexy. The breathing at first is scarcely perceptible, but is apt to
become stertorous. Foam sometimes issues from the mouth: in other cases
there is vomiting. The countenance is cadaverous and pale or livid. A
narcotic odour is often perceptible in the breath. The skin is cold, and
the body exceedingly relaxed; now and then it is convulsed. By being
struck, shaken, or excited any way, the person sometimes recovers for
a short period from his stupor, and stares wildly around him, but only
to relapse into lethargy. At last death ensues, but shortly before this
event, a deceitful show of animation occasionally makes its appearance,
and may impose upon superficial observers.
I extract the following interesting case of opium-eating from a London
paper:—
“An inquest was held at Walpole lately, on the body of Rebecca Eason,
aged five years, who had been diseased from her birth, was unable to walk
or articulate, and from her size did not appear to be more than _five
weeks_ old. The mother had for many years been in the habit of taking
opium in large quantities, (nearly a quarter of an ounce a-day;[16])
and, it is supposed, had entailed a disease on her child which caused
its death; it was reduced to a mere skeleton, and had been in that state
from birth. Verdict; ‘Died by the visitation of God; but from the great
quantity of opium taken by the mother during her pregnancy of the said
child, and of suckling it, she had greatly injured its health.’ It
appeared that the mother of the deceased had had five children; that
she began to take opium after the birth and weaning of her first child,
which was and is remarkably healthy; and that the other children have
all lingered and died in the same emaciated state as the child who was
the subject of this investigation. The mother is under thirty: she
was severely censured by the coroner for indulging in so pernicious a
practice.”
V. _Modified by Tobacco._—A variety of drunkenness is excited by
tobacco. This luxury was introduced into Europe from the New World, in
1559, by a Spanish gentleman, named Hernandez de Toledo, who brought a
small quantity into Spain and Portugal. From thence, by the agency of
the French ambassador at Lisbon, it found its way to Paris, where it
was used in the form of powder by Catherine de Medicis, the abandoned
instigator of the massacre of the Protestants on St. Bartholomew’s day.
This woman, therefore, may be considered the inventor of snuff, as
well as the contriver of that most atrocious transaction. It then came
under the patronage of the Cardinal Santa Crocé, the Pope’s nuncio,
who returning from his embassy at the Spanish and Portuguese courts,
carried the plant to his own country, and thus acquired a fame little
inferior to that which, at another period, he had won by piously bringing
a portion of the _real_ cross from the Holy Land. It was received with
general enthusiasm in the Papal States, and hardly less favourably in
England, into which it was introduced by Sir Walter Raleigh, in 1585. It
was not, however, without opposition that it gained a footing either in
this country or in the rest of Europe. Its principal opponents were the
priests, the physicians, and the sovereign princes: by the former, its
use was declared sinful; and in 1624, Pope Urban VIII. published a bull,
excommunicating all persons found guilty of taking snuff when in church.
This bull was renewed in 1690 by Pope Innocent; and about twenty-nine
years afterwards, the Sultan Amurath IV. made smoking a capital offence,
on the ground of its producing infertility. For a long time smoking was
forbidden in Russia, under the pain of having the nose cut off: and in
some parts of Switzerland, it was likewise made a subject of public
prosecution—the public regulations of the Canton of Berne, in 1661,
placing the prohibition of smoking in the list of the ten commandments,
immediately under that against adultery. Nay, that British Solomon, James
I., did not think it beneath the royal dignity to take up his pen upon
the subject. He accordingly, in 1603, published his famous “Counterblaste
to Tobacco,” in which the following remarkable passage occurs:—“It is a
custom loathesome to the eye, hateful to the nose, harmful to the braine,
dangerous to the lungs, and in the black stinking fume thereof, nearest
resembling the horrible Stygian smoke of the pit that is bottomless.”[17]
But notwithstanding this regal and sacerdotal wrath, the plant extended
itself far and wide, and is at this moment the most universal luxury in
existence.
The effects of tobacco are considerably different from those of any
other inebriating agent. Instead of quickening, it lowers the pulse,
and, when used to excess, produces languor, depression of the system,
giddiness, confusion of ideas, violent pain in the stomach, vomiting,
convulsions, and even death. Its essential oil is so intensely powerful,
that two or three drops inserted into a raw wound, would prove almost
instantly fatal.[18] Mr. Barrow, in his travels, speaks of the use made
by the Hottentots of this plant, for the purpose of destroying snakes.
“A Hottentot,” says he, “applied some of it from the short end of his
wooden tobacco pipe to the mouth of a snake while darting out his
tongue. The effect was as instantaneous as an electric shock; with a
convulsive motion that was momentary, the snake half untwisted itself,
and never stirred more; and the muscles were so contracted, that the
whole animal felt hard and rigid, as if dried in the sun.” When used in
moderation, tobacco has a soothing effect upon the mind, disposing to
placid enjoyment, and mellowing every passion into repose. Its effects,
therefore, are inebriating; and those who habitually indulge in it may
with propriety be denominated drunkards. In whatever form it is used,
it produces sickness, stupor, bewilderment, and staggering in those
unaccustomed to its use. There is no form in which it can be taken that
is not decidedly injurious and disgusting. The whole, from snuffing to
plugging, are at once so utterly uncleanly and unnatural, that it is
incredible in what manner they ever insinuated themselves into civilized
society. A vast quantity of valuable time is wasted by the votaries
of tobacco, especially by the smokers; and that the devotees of snuff
are not greatly behind in this respect, will be shown by the following
singular calculation of Lord Stanhope:—
“Every professed, inveterate, and incurable snuff-taker,” says his
Lordship, “at a moderate computation, takes one pinch in ten minutes.
Every pinch, with the agreeable ceremony of blowing and wiping the
nose, and other incidental circumstances, consumes a minute and a half.
One minute and a half out of every ten, allowing sixteen hours to a
snuff-taking day, amounts to two hours and twenty-four minutes out of
every natural day, or one day out of ten. One day out of every ten,
amounts to thirty-six days and a half in a year. Hence, if we suppose
the practice to be persisted in forty years, two entire years of the
snuff-taker’s life will be dedicated to tickling his nose, and two more
to blowing it. The expense of snuff, snuff-boxes, and handkerchiefs will
be the subject of a second essay, in which it will appear that this
luxury encroaches as much on the income of the snuff-taker as it does
on his time; and that by proper application of the time and money thus
lost to the public, a fund might be constituted for the discharge of the
national debt.”
But this is not the worst of snuffing, for though a moderate quantity
taken now and then, may do no harm, yet, in the extent to which habitual
snuffers carry it, it is positively pernicious. The membrane which lines
the nose gets thickened, the olfactory nerves blunted, and the sense
of smell consequently impaired. Not is this all, for, by the strong
inspirations which are made when the powder is drawn up, some of the
latter is pretty sure to escape into the stomach. This organ is thence
directly subjected to a powerful medicine, which not only acts as a
narcotic but produces heartburn, and every other symptom of indigestion.
It is generally believed that Napoleon owed his death to the morbid
state of his stomach produced by excessive snuffing. Snuffing has also a
strong tendency to give a determination to the head, and on this account
plethoric subjects should be the very last ever to enter upon the habit.
If it were attended with no other inconvenience, the black loathsome
discharge from the nose, and swelling and rubicundity of this organ, with
other circumstances equally disagreeable, ought to deter every man from
becoming a snuffer.
The smoker while engaged at _his_ occupation, is even a happier man than
the snuffer. An air of peculiar satisfaction beams upon his countenance;
and, as he puffs forth volumes of fragrance, he seems to dwell in an
atmosphere of contented happiness. His illusions have not the elevated
and magnificent character of those brought on by opium or wine. There is
nothing of Raphael or Michael Angelo in their composition—nothing of the
Roman or Venetian schools—nothing of Milton’s sublimity, or Ariosto’s
dazzling romance; but there is something equally delightful, and in its
way, equally perfect. His visions stand in the same relation to those
of opium or wine, as the Dutch pictures of Ostade to the Italian ones
of Paul Veronese—as Washington Irving to Lord Byron—or as Izaak Walton
to Froissart. There is an air of delightful homeliness about them. He
does not let his imagination run riot in the clouds, but restrains it
to the lower sphere of earth, and meditates delightfully in this less
elevated region. If his fancy be unusually brilliant, or somewhat heated
by previous drinking, he may see thousands of strange forms floating
in the tobacco smoke. He may people it, according to his temperament,
with agreeable or revolting images—with flowers and gems springing up,
as in dreams, before him—or with reptiles, serpents, and the whole host
of _diablerie_, skimming, like motes in the sunshine, amid its curling
wreaths.
This is all that can be said in favour of smoking, and quite enough to
render the habit too common to leave any hope of its suppression, either
by the weapons of ridicule, or the more summary plan of the Sultan
Amurath. In no sense, except as affording a temporary gratification,
can it be justified or defended. It pollutes the breath, blackens the
teeth, wastes the saliva which is required for digestion, and injures
the complexion. In addition to this, it is apt to produce dyspepsia, and
other disorders of the stomach; and, in corpulent subjects, it disposes
to apoplexy. At the present moment, smoking is fashionable, and crowds
of young men are to be seen at all hours walking the streets with cigars
in their mouths, annoying the passengers. They seem to consider it manly
to be able to smoke a certain number, without reflecting that there is
scarcely an old woman in the country who would not beat them to naught
with their own weapons, and that they would gain no sort of honour were
they able to outsmoke all the burgomasters of Amsterdam. As the practice,
however, seems more resorted to by these young gentlemen for the sake of
effect, and of exhibiting a little of the _haut ton_, than for any thing
else, it is likely soon to die a natural death among them; particularly
as jockeys and porters have lately taken the field in the same way, being
determined that no class of the community shall enjoy the exclusive
monopoly of street smoking.
The observations made upon the effects of snuffing and smoking, apply in
a still stronger degree to chewing. This is the worst way for the health
in which tobacco can be used. The waste of saliva is greater than even
in smoking, and the derangements of the digestive organs proportionably
severe. All confirmed chewers are more than usually subject to dyspepsia
and hypochondriasis; and many of them are afflicted with liver complaint,
brought on by their imprudent habit.
The most innocent, and, at the same time, most disgusting way of using
tobacco, is plugging, which consists in inserting a short roll of the
plant in the nostril and allowing it to remain there so long as the
person feels disposed. Fortunately this habit is as rare as it is
abominable; and it is to be hoped that it will never become common in
Great Britain.
I have observed, that persons who are much addicted to liquor have an
inordinate liking to tobacco in all its different forms: and it is
remarkable that in the early stages of ebriety almost every man is
desirous of having a pinch of snuff. This last fact it is not easy to
explain, but the former may be accounted for by that incessant craving
after excitement which clings to the system of the confirmed drunkard.
From several of the foregoing circumstances, we are justified in
considering tobacco closely allied to intoxicating liquors, and its
confirmed votaries as a species of drunkards. At least, it is certain
that, when used to excess, it gives birth to many of the corporeal and
mental manifestations of ebriety.
VI. _Modified by Nitrous Oxide._—The drunkenness, if it merit that name,
from inhaling nitrous oxide, is likewise of a character widely differing
from intoxication in general. This gas was discovered by Dr. Priestley,
but its peculiar effects upon the human body were first perceived in
1799, by Sir Humphry Davy, who, in the following year, published a very
elaborate account of its nature and properties, interspersed with details
by some of the most eminent literary and scientific characters, of the
sensations they experienced on receiving it into their lungs.
According to these statements, on breathing the gas the pulse is
accelerated, and a feeling of heat and expansion pervades the chest.
The most vivid and highly pleasurable ideas pass, at the same time,
through the mind; and the imagination is exalted to a pitch of entrancing
ecstasy. The hearing is rendered more acute, the face is flushed, and the
body seems so light that the person conceives himself capable of rising
up and mounting into the air. Some assume theatrical attitudes; others
laugh immoderately, and stamp upon the ground. There is an universal
increase of muscular power, attended with the most exquisite delight. In
a few cases there are melancholy, giddiness, and indistinct vision; but
generally the feelings are those of perfect pleasure. After these strange
effects have ceased, no debility ensues, like that which commonly follows
high excitement. On the contrary, the mind is strong and collected, and
the body unusually vigorous for some hours after the operation.
At the time of the discovery of the effects of nitrous oxide, strong
hopes were excited that it might prove useful in various diseases. These,
unfortunately, have not been realized. Even the alleged properties
of the gas have now fallen into some discredit. That it has produced
remarkable effects cannot be denied, but there is much reason for
thinking, that in many cases, these were in a great measure brought about
by the influence of imagination. Philosophers seem to be divided on this
point, and their conflicting testimonies it is not easy to reconcile.
Having tried the experiment of inhaling the gas myself, and having seen
it tried upon others, I have no doubt that there is much truth in the
reports originally published of its properties, although in many cases,
imagination has made these appear greater than they really are. The
intoxication which it produces is entirely one _sui generis_, and differs
so much from that produced by other agents, that it can hardly be looked
upon as the same thing.
The effects of nitrous oxide upon myself, though considerable, were not
so striking as I have seen upon others. The principal feelings produced,
were giddiness and violent beating in the head, such as occur in the acmé
of drunkenness. There was also a strong propensity to laugh: it occurs
to me, however, that in my own case, and probably in some others, the
risible tendency might be controlled by a strong effort of volition,
in the same way as in most cases of drunkenness, were the effort
imperatively requisite. Altogether I experienced nearly the sensations
of highly excited ebriety. There was the same seeming lightness and
expansion of the head, the same mirthfulness of spirit, and the same
inordinate propensity to do foolish things, knowing them to be foolish,
as occur in drunkenness in general. I was perfectly aware what I was
about, and could, I am persuaded, with some effort, have subjected the
whimsies of fancy to the soberer dictates of judgment. In a word, the
gas produced precisely a temporary paroxysm of drunkenness, and such a
determination of blood upwards as rendered the complexion livid, and
left behind some degree of headach. Such are the effects upon myself,
but with most people, there is a total unconsciousness of the part they
are acting. They perform the most extravagant pranks, and on recovering
their self-possession are totally ignorant of the circumstance. Sometimes
the gas has an opposite effect, and the person instantly drops down
insensible, as if struck by lightning: he recovers, however, immediately.
Those who wish to know more of this curious subject, should read Sir H.
Davy’s work; but, above all, they should try the gas upon themselves.
In the meantime I shall lay before the reader the details, in their own
words, of the sensations experienced by Messrs. Edgeworth and Coleridge,
and by Dr. Kinglake.
Mr. EDGEWORTH’S CASE.—“My first sensation was an universal and
considerable tremor. I then perceived some giddiness in my
head, and a violent dizziness in my sight; these sensations
by degrees subsided, and I felt a great propensity to bite
through the wooden mouth-piece, or the tube of the bag through
which I inspired the air. After I had breathed all the air
that was in the bag, I eagerly wished for more. I then felt
a strong propensity to laugh, and did burst into a violent
fit of laughter, and capered about the room without having
the power of restraining myself. By degrees, these feelings
subsided, except the tremor, which lasted for an hour after
I had breathed the air, and I felt a weakness in my knees.
The principal feeling through the whole of the time, or what
I should call the characteristical part of the effect, was a
total difficulty of restraining my feelings, both corporeal and
mental, or, in other words, not having any command of myself.”
* * * * *
Mr. COLERIDGE’S CASE.—“The first time I inspired the nitrous
oxide, I felt an highly pleasurable sensation of warmth over
my whole frame, resembling that which I once remember to have
experienced after returning from a walk in the snow into a
warm room. The only motion which I felt inclined to make, was
that of laughing at those who were looking at me. My eyes felt
distended, and, towards the last, my heart beat as if it were
leaping up and down. On removing the mouth-piece, the whole
sensation went off almost instantly.
“The second time, I felt the same pleasurable sensation of
warmth, but not, I think, in quite so great a degree. I wished
to know what effect it would have on my impressions: I fixed my
eye on some trees in the distance, but I did not find any other
effect, except that they became dimmer and dimmer, and looked
at last as if I had seen them through tears. My heart beat more
violently than the first time. This was after a hearty dinner.
“The third time, I was more violently acted on than in the
two former. Towards the last, I could not avoid, nor indeed
felt any wish to avoid, beating the ground with my feet; and,
after the mouth-piece was removed, I remained for a few seconds
motionless, in great ecstasy.
“The fourth time was immediately after breakfast. The first few
inspirations affected me so little, that I thought Mr. Davy had
given me atmospheric air; but soon felt the warmth beginning
about my chest, and spreading upward and downward, so that I
could feel its progress over my whole frame. My heart did not
beat so violently; my sensations were highly pleasurable, not
so intense or apparently local, but of more unmingled pleasure
than I had ever before experienced.”
* * * * *
Dr. KINGLAKE’S CASE.—“My first inspiration of it was limited
to four quarts, diluted with an equal quantity of atmospheric
air. After a few inspirations, a sense of additional freedom
and power (call it energy, if you please) agreeably pervaded
the region of the lungs; this was quickly succeeded by an
almost delirious but highly pleasurable sensation in the brain,
which was soon diffused over the whole frame, imparting to
the muscular power at once an increased disposition and tone
for action; but the mental effect of the excitement was such
as to absorb in a sort of intoxicating placidity and delight,
volition, or rather the power of voluntary motion. These
effects were in a greater or less degree protracted during
about five minutes, when the former state returned, with the
difference however of feeling more cheerful and alert, for
several hours after.
“It seemed also to have had the further effect of reviving
rheumatic irritations in the shoulder and knee-joints, which
had not been previously felt for many months. No perceptible
change was induced in the pulse, either at or subsequent to the
time of inhaling the gas.
“The effects produced by a second trial of its powers, were
more extensive, and concentrated on the brain. In this
instance, nearly six quarts undiluted, were accurately and
fully inhaled. As on the former occasion, it immediately
proved agreeably respirable, but before the whole quantity
was quite exhausted, its agency was exerted so strongly on
the brain, as progressively to suspend the senses of seeing,
hearing, feeling, and ultimately the power of volition itself.
At this period, the pulse was much augmented both in force
and frequency; slight convulsive twitches of the muscles of
the arms were also induced; no painful sensation, nausea, or
languor, however, either preceded, accompanied, or followed
this state, nor did a minute elapse before the brain rallied,
and resumed its wonted faculties, when a sense of glowing
warmth extending over the system, was speedily succeeded by a
re-instatement of the equilibrium of health.
“The more permanent effects were (as in the first experiment)
an invigorated feel of vital power, improved spirits,
transient irritations in different parts, but not so
characteristically rheumatic as in the former instance.
“Among the circumstances most worthy of regard in considering
the properties and administration of this powerful aërial
agent, may be ranked, the fact of its being, contrary to the
prevailing opinion, both highly respirable, and salutary;
that it impresses the brain and system at large with a more
or less strong and durable degree of pleasurable sensation;
that, unlike the effect of other violently exciting agents,
no sensible exhaustion or diminution of vital power accrues
from the exertions of its stimulant property; that its
most excessive operation even, is neither permanently nor
transiently debilitating; and finally, that it fairly promises,
under judicious application, to prove an extremely efficient
remedy, as well in the vast tribe of diseases originating from
deficient irritability and sensibility, as in those proceeding
from morbid associations, and modifications of those vital
principles.”[19]
CHAPTER VI.
ENUMERATION OF THE LESS COMMON INTOXICATING AGENTS.
In this Chapter, I shall content myself with the enumeration of a few
of the less common intoxicating agents. To detail all the productions
of nature which have the power of inebriating, would be an endless and
uninteresting topic.
_Hemlock._—A powerful narcotic, producing giddiness, elevation of
spirits, and other symptoms of ebriety. It was by an infusion of the leaf
of this plant that Socrates was poisoned.
_Leopard’s-bane._—(_Arnica montana._)—Properties analogous to those of
hemlock and other narcotics.
_Bangue._—This is the leaf of a species of wild hemp, growing on
the shores of Turkey, and of the Grecian Archipelago. It possesses
many of the properties of opium, and is used by the poorer classes
of Mussulmen as a substitute for this drug. Before being used, it is
dried, and the exsiccated leaves are either chewed entire, or reduced
into a fine powder, and made into pills. Its effects are to elevate the
spirits, dispel melancholy, and give increased energy to the corporeal
faculties—followed by languor both of body and mind.
_Hop._—Similar in its effects to opium, only inferior in degree. Used in
porter brewing.
_Wolf’s-bane._—(_Aconitum napellus._)—A most deadly narcotic, producing,
in small doses, the usual symptoms of ebriety, such as giddiness,
elevation of spirits, &c. When taken to excess it is inevitably fatal.
_Cocculus Indicus._—The intoxicating powers of this berry are
considerable. It is used by the brewers to increase the strength of
porter and ales; and is sometimes thrown into ponds for the purpose of
intoxicating the fishes, that they may thereby be more easily caught.
_Foxglove._—(_Digitalis._)—Likewise a powerful narcotic, and capable of
producing many of the symptoms of drunkenness. It has the peculiar effect
of lowering, instead of raising the pulse.
_Nightshade._-(_Belladonna._)—This is one of the most virulent narcotics
we possess. Like opium, hop, and cocculus Indicus, it is used by brewers
to augment the intoxicating properties of malt liquors. “The Scots,” says
Buchanan, “mixed a quantity of the juice of the belladonna with the bread
and drink, with which, by their truce, they were bound to supply the
Danes, which so intoxicated them, that the Scots killed the greater part
of Sweno’s army.”
“Some children ate, in a garden, the fruit of the belladonna, (_deadly
nightshade_.) Shortly after, they had burning fever, with convulsions,
and very strong palpitations of the heart: they lost their senses, and
became completely delirious: one of them, four years of age, died the
next day: the stomach contained some berries of the belladonna crushed,
and some seeds; it exhibited three ulcers; the heart was livid, and the
pericardium without serosity.”[20]
“One child ate four ripe berries of the belladonna, another ate six. Both
one and the other were guilty of extravagancies which astonished the
mother; their pupils were dilated; their countenances no longer remained
the same; they had a cheerful delirium, accompanied with fever. The
physician being called in, found them in a state of great agitation,
talking at random, running, jumping, laughing sardonically; their
countenances purple, and pulses hurried. He administered to each of them
half a grain of emetic tartar and a drachm of Glauber salt, in four or
five ounces of water; they had copious evacuations during seven or eight
hours, and the symptoms disappeared.”[21]
_Henbane._—(_Hyoscyamus._)—Similar in its properties to nightshade and
opium. The intoxicating properties of hyoscyamus appear to have been
known from a very early period. It was with this plant that the Assassin
Prince, commonly called the “Old Man of the Mountain,” inebriated his
followers preparatory to installing them into his service. The following
eloquent passage from a modern writer will prove interesting:—
“There was at Alamoot, and also at Masiat, in Syria, a delicious garden,
encompassed with lofty walls, adorned with trees and flowers of every
kind—with murmuring brooks and translucent lakes—with bowers of roses
and trelisses of the vine—airy halls and splendid kiosks, furnished
with carpets of Persia and silks of Byzantium. Beautiful maidens
and blooming boys were the inhabitants of this delicious spot, which
resounded with the melody of birds, the murmur of streams, and the tones
and voices of instruments—all respired contentment and pleasure. When
the chief had noticed any youth to be distinguished for strength and
resolution, he invited him to a banquet, where he placed him beside
himself, conversed with him on the happiness reserved for the faithful,
and contrived to administer to him an intoxicating draught, prepared
from the _hyoscyamus_. While insensible, he was conveyed to the garden
of delight, and there awakened by the application of vinegar. On opening
his eyes, all Paradise met his view; the black-eyed and blue-robed
houris surrounded him, obedient to his wishes; sweet music filled his
ears; the richest viands were served up in the most costly vessels,
and the choicest wines sparkled in golden cups. The fortunate youth
believed himself really in the Paradise of the Prophet, and the language
of his attendants confirmed the delusion. When he had had his fill of
enjoyment, and nature was yielding to exhaustion, the opiate was again
administered, and the sleeper transported back to the side of the chief,
to whom he communicated what had passed, and who assured him of the
truth and reality of all he had experienced, telling him such was the
bliss reserved for the obedient servants of the Imaum, and enjoining, at
the same time, the strictest secrecy. Ever after, the rapturous vision
possessed the imagination of the deluded enthusiast, and he panted for
the hour when death, received in obeying the commands of his superior,
should dismiss him to the bowers of Paradise.”[22]
_Palm Wine._—This is prepared from the juice which exudes from the palm
tree. Its properties are very inebriating; and it is an amusing fact to
witness the stupor and giddiness into which the lizards frequenting these
trees are thrown, by partaking of the juice which yields it. They exhibit
all the usual phenomena of intoxication.
_Camphor._—The intoxicating properties of camphor are considerable.
It elevates the spirits, increases voluntary motion, and gives rise
to vertigo; and these effects, as in the case of all narcotics, are
succeeded by drowsiness, lassitude, and general depression. In large
doses, syncope, convulsions, delirium, and even death, take place. It
is sometimes used as a substitute for opium in cases of delirium,
where, from particular circumstances, the latter either cannot be taken,
or does not produce its usual effects. The common belief, however, of
camphor being an antidote to this medicine, is quite unfounded. It
neither decomposes opium, nor prevents it from acting poisonously upon
the system: but, in consequence of its stimulating properties, it may
be advantageously given in small doses to remove the stupor and coma
produced by opium.
_Saffron._—This aromatic possesses moderate intoxicating properties.
Taken in sufficient doses, it accelerates the pulse, produces giddiness,
raises the spirits, and gives rise to paroxysms of laughter. In a word,
it exhibits many of the phenomena occasioned by over-indulgence in
liquors, only in a very inferior degree.
_Darnel._—Possesses slight intoxicating properties.
_Clery._—Possesses slight intoxicating properties.
_Carbonic Acid._—Carbonic acid partially inebriates, as is seen in
drinking ginger beer, cider, Champaign, or even soda water, in which no
alcoholic principle exists.
_Ethers._—Ethers, when taken in quantity, give rise to a species of
intoxication, which resembles that from ardent spirits in all respects,
except in being more fugacious.
_Intense Cold._—Intense cold produces giddiness, thickness of speech,
confusion of ideas, and other symptoms of drunkenness. Captain Parry
speaks of the effects so produced upon two young gentlemen who were
exposed to an extremely low temperature. “They looked wild,” says he,
“spoke thick and indistinctly, and it was impossible to draw from them
a rational answer, to any of our questions. After being on board for a
short time, the mental faculties appeared gradually to return, and it was
not till then that a looker-on could easily persuade himself that they
had not been drinking too freely.”
CHAPTER VII.
DIFFERENCES IN THE ACTION OF OPIUM AND ALCOHOL.
The _modus operandi_ of opium upon the body is considerably different
from that of alcohol. The latter intoxicates chiefly by acting _directly_
upon the nerves, the former by acting _secondarily_ upon them, through
the medium of absorption. This is easily proved by injecting a quantity
of each into the cellular tissue of any animal, and comparing the
effects with those produced when either is received into the stomach. M.
Orfila[23] details some interesting experiments which he made upon dogs.
In applying the watery extract of opium to them in the first manner,
(by injection into the cellular tissue,) immediate stupor, convulsions,
and debility ensued, and proved fatal in an hour or two. When, on the
contrary, even a larger quantity was introduced into the stomach of
the animal, it survived ten, twelve or eighteen hours, although the
œsophagus was purposely tied to prevent vomiting. The operation of
alcohol was the reverse of this; for, when injected into the cellular
substance, the effects were slight; but when carried into the stomach,
they were powerful and almost instantaneous. This proves that opium
acts chiefly by being taken up by the absorbents, as this is done much
more rapidly by the drug being directly applied to a raw surface than
in the stomach, where the various secretions and processes of digestion
retard its absorption. Besides, alcohol taken in quantity produces
instant stupefaction. It is no sooner swallowed than the person drops
down insensible. Here is no time for absorption; the whole energies
of the spirit are exerted against the nervous system. The same rapid
privation of power never occurs after swallowing opium. There is always
an interval, and generally one of some extent, between the swallowing and
the stupor which succeeds. Another proof that opium acts in this manner,
is the circumstance of its being much more speedily fatal than alcohol,
when injected into the blood vessels. Three or four grains in solution,
forced into the carotid artery of a dog, will kill him in a few minutes.
Alcohol, used in the same manner, would not bring on death for several
hours.
In addition it may be stated, that a species of drunkenness is produced
by inhaling the gas of intoxicating liquors. Those employed in bottling
spirits from the cask, feel it frequently with great severity. This
proves that there is a close sympathy between the nerves of the nose and
lungs, and those of the stomach. From all these circumstances, it is
pretty evident that intoxication from spirits is produced more by the
direct action of the fluid upon the nerves of the latter organ, than by
absorption.
Mr. Brodie supposes that there is no absorption whatever of alcohol, and
supports his views with a number of striking facts.[24] This, however,
is a length to which I cannot go. I am inclined to think that though
such absorption is not necessary to produce drunkenness, it generally
takes place to a greater or lesser degree; nor can I conceive any reason
why alcohol may not be taken into the circulation as well as any other
fluid. My reasons for supposing that it is absorbed are the following:—1.
The blood, breath, and perspiration of a confirmed drunkard differ
from those of a sober man; the former being darker, and the two latter
strongly impregnated with a spirituous odour. 2. The perspiration of
the wine-drinker is often of the hue of his favourite liquor; after a
debauch on Port, Burgundy, or Claret, it is not uncommon to see the shirt
or sheets in which he lies, tinted to a rosy colour by the moisture
which exudes from his body. 3. Madder, mercury, and sulphur are received
into the circulation unchanged; the former dyeing the bones, and the
others exhaling through the pores of the skin, so as to communicate
their peculiar odours to the person, and even discolour coins and other
metallic substances in his pockets. The first of these reasons is a
direct proof of absorption: the second shows, that as wine is received
into the circulation, and passes through it, alcohol may do the same; and
the third furnishes collateral evidence of other agents exhibiting this
phenomenon as well as spirituous liquors. The doctrine of absorption is
supported by Dr. Trotter,[25] who conceives that alcohol de-oxygenizes
the blood, and causes it to give out an unusual portion of hydrogen gas.
The quantity of this gas in the bodies of drunkards is so great, that
many have attempted to explain from it the circumstances of _spontaneous
Combustion_, by which it is alleged, the human frame has been sometimes
destroyed by being burned to ashes.
CHAPTER VIII.
PHYSIOLOGY OF DRUNKENNESS.
In administering medicines, the practitioner has a natural desire to
learn the means by which they produce their effects upon the body. Thus,
he is not contented with knowing that squill acts as a diuretic, and that
mercury increases the secretion of the bile. He inquires by what process
they do so; and understands that the first excites into increased action
the secretory arteries of the kidneys, and the last the secretory veins
of the liver. In like manner, he does not rest satisfied with the trite
knowledge that wines, and spirits, and ales, produce intoxication: he
extends his researches beyond this point, and is naturally anxious to
ascertain by what peculiar action of the system these agents give rise
to so extraordinary an effect.
All the agents of which we have spoken, with the exception of tobacco,
whose action from the first is decidedly sedative, operate partly by
stimulating the frame. They cause the heart to throb more vigorously,
and the blood to circulate freer, while, at the same time, they exert a
peculiar action upon the nervous system. The nature of this action, it
is probable, will never be satisfactorily explained. If mere stimulation
were all that was wanted, drunkenness ought to be present in many cases
where it is never met with. It, or more properly speaking, its symptoms,
ought to exist in inflammatory fever, and after violent exercise, such
as running or hard walking. Inebriating agents, therefore, with few
exceptions, have a twofold action. They both act by increasing the
circulation, and by influencing the nerves; and the latter operation,
there can be no doubt, is the more important of the two. Having stated
this general fact, it will be better to consider the cause of each
individual symptom in detail.
I. _Vertigo._—This is partly produced by the ocular delusions under which
the drunkard labours, but it is principally owing to other causes; as it
is actually greater when the eyes are shut than when they are open—these
causes, by the exclusion of light, being unaccountably increased.
Vertigo, from intoxication, is far less liable to produce sickness and
vomiting than from any other cause; and when it does produce them, it is
to a very inconsiderable degree. These symptoms, in ninety-nine cases out
of a hundred, arise from the disordered state of the stomach, and not,
as we have elsewhere mentioned, from the accompanying giddiness. There
are, indeed, a certain class of subjects who vomit and become pale, as
soon as vertigo comes over them, but such are few in number compared
with those whose stomachs are unaffected by this sensation. In swinging,
smoking, sailing at sea, on turning rapidly round, sickness and vomiting
are apt to occur; and there seems no doubt that they proceed in a great
measure from the vertigo brought on by these actions. The giddiness of
drunkenness, therefore, as it very rarely sickens, must be presumed to
have some characters peculiar to itself. In this, as well as in some
other affections, it seems to be the consequence of a close sympathy
between the brain and nerves of the stomach; and whatever affects the
latter organ, or any other viscus strongly sympathizing with it, may
bring it on equally with inebriating agents: calculi in the uterus or
biliary ducts are illustrations of this fact. In intoxication, the
giddiness is more strongly marked, because the powers both of body and
mind are temporarily impaired, and the sensorium so disordered as to be
unable to regulate the conduct.
A degree of vertigo may be produced by loading the stomach too rapidly
and copiously after a long fast. Common food, in this instance, amounts
to a strong stimulus in consequence of the state of the stomach, in which
there was an unnatural want of excitement. This organ was in a state of
torpor; and a stimulus which, in ordinary circumstances, would hardly
have been felt, proves, in reality, highly exciting. For the same reason,
objects have an unnatural luminousness when a person is suddenly brought
from intense darkness to a brilliant light.
II. _Double Vision._—The double vision which occurs in drunkenness may
be readily accounted for by the influence of increased circulation in
the brain upon the nerves of sight. In frenzy, and various fevers, the
same phenomenon occurs. Every nerve is supplied with vessels; and it is
conceivable that any unusual impulse of blood into the optics may so
far affect that pair as to derange their actions. Whence, they convey
false impressions to the brain, which is itself too much thrown off
its just equilibrium to remedy, even if that under any circumstances
were possible, the distorted images of the retina. The refraction of
light in the tears, which are secreted more copiously than usual during
intoxication, may also assist in multiplying objects to the eye.
III. _Staggering and Stammering._—These symptoms are, in like manner,
to be explained from the disordered state of the brain and nervous
system. When the organ of sensation is affected, it is impossible that
parts whose actions depend upon it can perform their functions well.
The nervous fluid is probably carried to the muscles in a broken and
irregular current, and the filaments which are scattered over the body
are themselves directly stunned and paralyzed; hence, the insensibility
to pain, and other external impressions. This insensibility extends
everywhere, even to the organs of deglutition and speech. The utterance
is thick and indistinct, indicating a loss of power in the lingual nerves
which give action to the tongue; and the same want of energy seems to
prevail in the gustatory branches which give it taste.
IV. _Heat and Flushing._—These result from the strong determination of
blood to the surface of the body. This reddens and tumefies the face and
eyes, and excites an universal glow of heat. Blood is the cause of animal
heat, and the more it is determined to any part, the greater is the
quantity of caloric evolved therefrom.
V. _Ringing in the Ears._—This is accounted for by the generally
increased action within the head, and more particularly by the throbbing
of the internal carotid arteries which run in the immediate neighbourhood
of the ears.
VI. _Elevation of Spirits._—The mental pleasure of intoxication is not
easily explained on physiological principles. We feel a delight in
being rocked gently, in swinging on a chair, or in being tickled. These
undoubtedly act upon the nerves, but in what manner, it would be idle to
attempt investigating. Intoxicating agents no doubt do the same thing.
The mental manifestations produced by their influence depend almost
entirely upon the nerves, and are, unlike the corporeal ones, in a great
measure independent of vascular excitement. The power of exciting the
feelings inherent in these principles, can only be accounted for by
supposing a most intimate relation to subsist between the body and the
mind. The brain, through the medium of its nervous branches, is the
source of all this excitement. These branches receive the impressions
and convey them to their fountain-head, whence they are showered like
sparkling rain-drops over the mind, in a thousand fantastic varieties.
No bodily affection ever influences the mind but through the remote or
proximate agency of this organ. It sits enthroned in the citadel of
thought, and, though material itself, acts with wizard power both upon
matter and spirit. No other texture has the same pervading principle. If
the lungs be diseased, we have expectoration and cough; if the liver,
jaundice or dropsy; if the stomach, indigestion; but when the brain is
affected, we have not merely many bodily symptoms, but severe affections
of the mind; nor are such affections ever produced by any organ but
through the agency of the brain. It, therefore, acts in a double capacity
upon the frame, being both the source of the corporeal feelings, and of
the mental manifestations. Admitting this truth, there can be little
difficulty in apprehending why intoxication produces so powerful a mental
influence. This must proceed from a resistless impulse being given to
the brain, by virtue of the peculiar action of inebriating agents upon
the nerves. That organ of the mind is suddenly endowed with increased
energy. Not only does the blood circulate through it more rapidly, but an
action, _sui generis_, is given to its whole substance. Mere increase of
circulation, as we have already stated, is not sufficient: there must be
some other principle at work upon its texture; and it is this principle,
whatever it may be, which is the main cause of drunkenness. At first,
ebriety has a soothing effect, and falls over the spirit like the hum of
bees, or the distant murmur of a cascade. Then to these soft dreams of
Elysium succeed a state of maddening energy and excitement in the brain.
The thoughts which emanate from its prolific tabernacle, are more fervid
and original than ever—they rush out with augmented copiousness, and
sparkle over the understanding like the aurora borealis, or the eccentric
scintillations of light upon a summer cloud. In a word, the organ is
excited to a high, but not a diseased action, for this is coupled with
pain, and, instead of pleasurable, produces afflicting ideas. But its
energies, like those of any other part, are apt to be over-excited.
When this takes place, the balance is broken; the mind gets tumultuous
and disordered, and the ideas inconsistent, wavering, and absurd. Then
come the torpor and exhaustion subsequent on such excessive stimulus.
The person falls into drowsiness or stupor, and his mind, as well as his
body, is followed by languor corresponding to the previous excitation.
Such is a slight and unsatisfactory attempt to elucidate some of the
more prominent phenomena of drunkenness. Some are omitted as being too
obvious to require explanation, and others have been elsewhere cursorily
accounted for in different parts of the work.
CHAPTER IX.
METHOD OF CURING THE FIT OF DRUNKENNESS.
I. _From Liquors._—Generally speaking, there is no remedy for drunkenness
equal to vomiting. The sooner the stomach is emptied of its contents the
better, and this may, in most cases, be accomplished by drinking freely
of tepid water, and tickling the fauces. On more obstinate occasions,
powerful emetics will be necessary. The best for this purpose, are ten
grains of sulphate of copper, half a drachm of sulphate of zinc, or
five grains of tartar emetic. Either of these should be dissolved in
a small quantity of tepid water, and instantly swallowed. Should this
treatment fail in effecting vomiting, and dangerous symptoms supervene,
the stomach pump should be employed. Cold applications to the head
are likewise useful. In all cases, the head ought to be well elevated,
and the neck-cloth removed, that there may be no impediment to the
circulation. Where there is total insensibility, where the pulse is
slow and full, the pupils dilated, the face flushed, and the breathing
stertorous, it becomes a question whether blooding might be useful.
Darwin[26] and Trotter speak discouragingly of the practice. As a general
rule I think it is bad; and that many persons who would have recovered,
if left to themselves, have lost their lives by being prematurely bled.
In all cases it should be done cautiously, and not for a considerable
time. Vomiting and other means should invariably be first had recourse
to, and if they fail, and nature is unable of her own power to overcome
the stupor, blooding may be tried. In this respect, liquors differ from
opium, the insensibility from which is benefited by abstraction of blood.
There is one variety of drunkenness in which both blooding and cold
are inadmissible. This is when a person is struck down, as it were,
by drinking suddenly a great quantity of ardent spirits. Here he is
overcome by an instantaneous stupor: his countenance is ghastly and pale,
his pulse feeble, and his body cold. While these symptoms continue,
there is no remedy but vomiting. When, however, they wear off, and
are succeeded, as they usually are, by flushing, heat, and general
excitement, the case is changed, and must be treated as any other where
such symptoms exist.
The acetate of ammonia is said to possess singular properties in
restoring from intoxication. This fact was ascertained by M. Masurer, a
French chemist. According to him, from twenty to thirty drops in a glass
of water, will, in most cases, relieve the patient from the sense of
giddiness and oppression of the brain; or, if that quantity should be
insufficient, half the same may be again given in eight or ten minutes
after. In some cases the remedy will occasion nausea or vomiting, which,
however, will be salutary to the patient, as the state of the brain is
much aggravated by the load on the stomach, and subsequent indigestion.
It is also farther stated that the value of this medicine is greatly
enhanced from its not occasioning that heat of the stomach and subsequent
inflammation which are apt to be produced by pure ammonia. Whether it
possesses all the virtues attributed to it, I cannot say from personal
observation, having never had occasion to use it in any case which came
under my management; but I think it at least promises to be useful, and
is, at all events, worthy of a trial. I must mention, however, that the
acetate of ammonia is seldom to be procured in the highly concentrated
state in which it is used by M. Masurer. Owing to the great difficulty of
chrystallizing it, it is rarely seen except in the fluid state, in which
condition it is recommended by the French chemist. The form in which it
is almost always used in this country, is that of the Aq. Acet. Ammon. or
Spirit of Mindererus, in doses of half an ounce or an ounce, but whether
in this shape it would be equally effectual in obviating the effects of
drunkenness, remains to be seen.
Mr. Broomley of Deptford recommends a draught composed of two drachms
of Aq. Ammon. Aromat. in two ounces of water, as an effectual remedy in
drunkenness.
The carbonate of ammonia might be used with a good effect. M. Dupuy,
director to the Veterinary School at Toulouse, tried a curious experiment
with this medicine upon a horse. Having previously intoxicated the animal
by injecting a demiletre of alcohol into the jugular vein, he injected
five grains of the carbonate of ammonia, dissolved in an ounce of water,
into the same vein, when the effects of the alcohol immediately ceased.
We have already mentioned that the excitement of drunkenness is succeeded
by universal languor. In the first stage, the drunkard is full of
energy, and capable of withstanding vigorously all external influences.
In the second, there is general torpor and exhaustion, and he is more
than usually subject to every impression, whether of cold or contagion.
Persons are often picked up half dead in this second stage. The stimulus
of intoxication had enabled them to endure the chill of the atmosphere,
but the succeeding weakness left them more susceptible than before of its
severity. In this state the body will not sustain any farther abstraction
of stimuli; and blooding and cold would be highly injurious. Vomiting is
here equally necessary, as in all other instances; but the person must
be kept in a warm temperature, and cherished with light and nourishing
food with soups, if such can be procured, and even with negus, should the
prostration of strength be very great.
A paroxysm of _periodical_ drunkenness may be sometimes shortened by
putting such small quantities of tartar emetic into the liquor which the
person indulges in, as to bring on nausea. This, however, must be done
with secrecy and caution.
It may here be mentioned, though not with a view of recommending
the practice, that the vegetable acids have a strong effect both in
counteracting and removing drunkenness. To illustrate this fact, the
following circumstance may be mentioned:—About twenty years ago, an
English regiment was stationed in Glasgow, the men of which, as is common
in all regiments, became enamoured of whisky. This liquor, to which they
gave the whimsical denomination of _white ale_, was new to them—being
nearly unknown in England: and they soon indulged in it to such an
extent, as to attract the censure of their officers. Being obliged to
be at quarters by a certain hour, they found out the plan of sobering
themselves by drinking large quantities of vinegar, perhaps a gill or two
at a draught. This, except in very bad cases, had the desired effect, and
enabled them to enter the barrack-court, or appear on parade, in a state
of tolerable sobriety. The power of the vegetable acids in resisting
intoxication, is well shown in the case of cold punch—a larger portion
of which can be withstood than of either grog or toddy, even when the
quantity of spirit is precisely the same.
There is nothing which has so strong a tendency to dispel the effects of
a debauch as hard exercise, especially if the air be cold. Aperients and
diaphoretics are also extremely useful for the same purpose.
For some days after drinking too much, the food should be light and
unirritating, consisting principally of vegetables. Animal food is apt to
heat the body, and dispose it to inflammatory complaints.[27]
II. _From Opium._—When a dangerous quantity of opium has been taken,
the treatment, in the first instance, is the same as with regard to
spirits, or any other intoxicating fluid. Immediate vomiting, by the
administration of similar emetics, is to be attempted, and when it has
taken place, it should be encouraged by warm drinks, till there is reason
to believe that the stomach has been freed of the poison. These drinks,
however, should not be given before vomiting is produced, for, in the
event of their failing to excite it, they remain upon the stomach, and
thus dissolve the opium and promote its absorption. But when vomiting
occurs from the action of the emetics, it will in all probability be
encouraged by warm drinks, and the stomach thus more effectually cleared
of the poison. Large quantities of a strong infusion of coffee ought then
to be given, or the vegetable acids, such as vinegar or lemon-juice,
mixed with water. These serve to mitigate the bad consequences which
often follow, even after the opium has been brought completely up. If the
person show signs of apoplexy, more especially if he be of a plethoric
habit, the jugular vein, or temporal artery should be opened, and a
considerable quantity of blood taken away. Indeed, it may be laid down
as a general rule, that as soon as the poison is rejected, the patient
ought to be bled, and the operation should be repeated according to
circumstances. Every means must be used to arouse him from stupor. He
must be moved about, if possible, from room to room, hartshorn applied
to his nostrils, and all plans adopted to prevent him from sinking
into lethargy. For this purpose, camphor, asafœtida, or musk, might be
administered with advantage. It is also a good practice to sponge the
body well with cold water; and the affusion of cold water on the head and
over the body, is still more effectual. In cases where vomiting cannot be
brought about by the ordinary means, M. Orfila suggests that one or two
grains of tartar emetic, dissolved in an ounce or two of water, might be
injected into the veins. In desperate cases, the stomach pump must be had
recourse to. Purgatives are latterly necessary.
Many practitioners consider vinegar and the other vegetable acids
antidotes to opium. This opinion M. Orfila has most satisfactorily
shown to be erroneous. In a series of well-conducted and conclusive
experiments made by him, it appears that the vegetable acids aggravate
the symptoms of poisoning by opium, whenever they are not vomited. They
hurry them on more rapidly, render them more violent, produce death at
an earlier period, and give rise to inflammation of the stomach—an event
which hardly ever occurs when they are not employed. These effects, it
would appear, are partly produced by their power of dissolving opium,
which they do better than the mere unassisted fluids of the stomach;
consequently the absorption is more energetic. The only time when acids
can be of use, is after the person has brought up the poison by vomiting.
They then mitigate the subsequent symptoms, and promote recovery; but if
they be swallowed before vomiting takes place, and if this act cannot by
any means be brought about, they aggravate the disorder, and death ensues
more rapidly than if they had not been taken.
Coffee has likewise a good effect when taken after the opium is got
off the stomach; but it differs from the acids in this, that it does
not, under any circumstances, increase the danger. While the opium is
still unremoved, the coffee may be considered merely inert; and it is,
therefore, a matter of indifference whether at this time it be taken or
not. Afterwards, however, it produces the same beneficial effects as
lemonade, tartaric acid, or vinegar. According to Orfila, the infusion is
more powerful as an antidote than the decoction.
Drunkenness or poisoning from the other narcotics, such as hemlock,
belladonna, aconite, hyoscyamus, &c., is treated in precisely the same
manner as that from opium.
III. _From Tobacco._—If a person feel giddy or languid from the use of
this luxury, he should lay himself down on his back, exposed to a current
of cool air. Should this fail of reviving him, let him either swallow
twenty or thirty drops of hartshorn, mixed with a glass of cold water, or
an ounce of vinegar moderately diluted. When tobacco has been received
into the stomach, so as to produce dangerous symptoms, a powerful emetic
must immediately be given, and vomiting encouraged by copious drinks,
till the poison is brought up. After this, vinegar ought to be freely
exhibited, and lethargy prevented by the external and internal use of
stimuli. If apoplectic symptoms appear, blooding must be had recourse
to. The same rule applies here, with regard to acids, as in the case
of opium. They should never be given till the stomach is thoroughly
liberated of its contents by previous vomiting.
Accidents happen oftener with tobacco than is commonly supposed. Severe
languor, retching, and convulsive attacks sometimes ensue from the
application of ointment, made with this plant, for the cure of the
ring-worm; and Santeuil, the celebrated French poet, lost his life in
consequence of having unknowingly drunk a glass of wine, into which had
been put some Spanish snuff.
IV. _From Nitrous Oxide._—Though the inhalation of this gas is seldom
attended with any risk, yet, in very plethoric habits, there might be a
determination of blood to the head, sufficient to produce apoplexy. If a
person, therefore, becomes, after the experiment, convulsed, stupified,
and livid in the countenance, and if these symptoms do not soon wear
away, some means must be adopted for their removal. In general, a free
exposure to fresh air, and dashing cold water over the face, will be
quite sufficient; but if the affection is so obstinate as to resist
this plan, it will then be necessary to draw some blood from the arm,
or, what is still better, from the jugular vein. When, in delicate
subjects, hysteria and other nervous symptoms are produced, blooding is
not necessary; all that is requisite to be done being the application
of cold water to the brow or temples, and of hartshorn to the nostrils.
In obstinate cases, twenty or thirty drops of the latter in a glass of
water, may be administered with advantage.
CHAPTER X.
PATHOLOGY OF DRUNKENNESS.
The evil consequences of drinking, both in a physical and moral point
of view, seem to have been known from the most remote antiquity. They
are expressly mentioned in Scripture; nor can there be a doubt that the
Homeric fiction of the companions of Ulysses being turned into swine by
the enchanted cup of Circe, plainly implied the bestial degradation into
which men bring themselves by coming under the dominion of so detestable
a habit. Having mentioned these circumstances in favour of the accuracy
of ancient knowledge, we shall simply proceed to detail the effects
of drunkenness, so far as the medical practitioner is professionally
interested in knowing them. The moral consequences belong more properly
to the legislator and divine, and do not require to be here particularly
considered.
I. _State of the Liver._—One of the most common consequences of
drunkenness is acute inflammation. This may affect any organ, but its
attacks are principally confined to the brain, the stomach, and the
liver. It is unnecessary to enter into any detail of its nature and
treatment. These are precisely the same as when it proceeds from any
other cause. The inflammation of drunkenness is, in a great majority of
cases, chronic; and the viscus which, in nine cases out of ten, suffers,
is the liver.
Liquors, from the earliest ages, have been known to affect this
organ. Probably the story of Prometheus stealing fire from heaven and
animating clay, alluded to the effects of wine upon the human body;
and the punishment of having his liver devoured by a vulture, may be
supposed to refer to the consequences which men draw upon themselves
by over-indulgence—this organ becoming thereby highly diseased. Man is
not the only animal so affected. Swine who are fed on the refuse of
breweries, have their livers enlarged in the same manner. Their other
viscera become also indurated, and their flesh so tough, that unless
killed early, they are unfit to be eaten. Some fowl-dealers in London
are said to mix gin with the food of the birds, by which means they are
fattened, and their livers swelled to a great size. The French manage to
enlarge this organ in geese, by piercing it shortly after the creatures
are fledged.[28]
Neither malt liquors nor wine have so rapid and decided an effect upon
the liver as ardent spirits. Indeed, it is alleged, although I cannot
go this length, that the wine that is _perfectly pure_ does not affect
the liver: and the fact of our continental neighbours being much less
troubled with hepatic complaints than the wine-drinkers among ourselves,
gives some countenance to the allegation; for it is well known that to
suit the British market, the vinous liquors used in this country are
sophisticated with brandy. In wine that is perfectly pure the alcohol
exists in such a state of chemical combination, as greatly to modify its
effects upon the system. In the wine generally to be met with, much of it
exists mechanically or uncombined, and all this portion of spirit acts
precisely in the same manner as if separately used.[29]
The liver is a viscus which, in confirmed topers, never escapes; and it
withstands disease better than any other vital part, except, perhaps, the
spleen. Sometimes, by a slow chronic action, it is enlarged to double
its usual size, and totally disorganized, and yet the person suffers
comparatively little. The disease frequently arises in tropical climates,
from warmth and other natural causes, but an excess in spirituous liquors
is more frequently the cause than is generally imagined.
The consequences which follow chronic inflammation of the liver, are
very extensive. The bile, in general, is not secreted in due quantity or
quality, consequently digestion is defective, the bowels, from want of
their usual stimulus, become torpid. The person gets jaundiced, his skin
becoming yellow, dry, and rough, and the white of his eyes discoloured.
As the enlargement goes on, the free passage of blood in the veins is
impeded, and their extremities throw out lymph: this accumulating,
forms dropsy, a disease with which a great proportion of drunkards are
ultimately more or less affected.
The jaundice of drunkenness is not an original disease, but merely a
symptom of the one under consideration. A very slight cause will often
bring it on; it is, consequently, not always dangerous. Dropsy is, for
the most part, also symptomatic of diseased liver, but sometimes, more
especially in dram-drinkers, it arises from general debility of the
system. In the former case, effusion always takes place in the cavity
of the abdomen. In the latter, there is general anasarca throughout the
body, usually coupled with more or less topical affection. In every
instance, dropsy, whether general or local, is a very dangerous disease.
II. _State of the Stomach, &c._—Like the liver, the stomach is more
subject to chronic than acute inflammation. It is also apt to get
indurated, from long-continued, slow action going on within its
substance. This disease is extremely insidious, frequently proceeding
great lengths before it is discovered. The organ is often thickened
to half an inch, or even an inch; and its different tunics so matted
together that they cannot be separated. The pyloric orifice becomes, in
many cases, contracted. The cardiac may suffer the same disorganization,
and so may the œsophagus; but these are less common, and it must be
admitted, more rapidly fatal. When the stomach is much thickened, it may
sometimes be felt like a hard ball below the left ribs. At this point
there is also a dull uneasy pain, which is augmented upon pressure.
Indigestion or spasm may arise from a mere imperfect action of this
organ, without any disease of its structure; but when organic derangement
takes place, they are constant attendants. In the latter case it is
extremely difficult for any food to remain on the stomach; it is speedily
vomited. What little is retained undergoes a painful fermentation,
which produces sickness and heartburn. There is, at the same time, much
obstinacy in the bowels, and the body becomes emaciated.
This disease, though generally produced by dissipation, originates
sometimes from other causes, and affects the soberest people. Whenever
the stomach is neglected, when acidity is allowed to become habitual, or
indigestible food too much made use of, the foundation may be laid for
slow inflammation, terminating in scirrhus and all its bad consequences.
Vomiting of bilious matter in the mornings, is a very common circumstance
among all classes of drunkards. But there is another kind of vomiting,
much more dangerous, to which they are subject; and that is when
inflammation of the villous coat of the stomach takes place. In such
a state there is not much acute pain, but rather a dull feeling of
uneasiness over the abdomen, attended with the throwing up of a dark,
crude matter, resembling coffee grounds. I have seen two cases in which
the vomiting stopped suddenly, in consequence of metastasis to the head.
In these, the affection soon proved fatal, the persons being seized with
indistinctness of vision, low delirium, and general want of muscular
power: the action of the kidneys was also totally suspended for three
days before death. On examination, _post mortem_, there was effusion in
the ventricles of the brain, besides extensive inflammation along the
inner surface of the upper portion of the alimentary canal.
Bilious complaints, which were formerly in a great measure unknown to the
common people, are now exceedingly common among them, and proceed in a
great measure from the indulgence in ardent spirits to which that class
of society is so much addicted.
There is nothing more indicative of health, than a good appetite for
breakfast; but confirmed topers, from the depraved state of their
stomachs, lose all relish for this meal.
Persons of this description are generally of a costive habit of body, but
a debauch, with those who are constitutionally sober, is, for the most
part, followed by more or less diarrhœa.
In the latter stages of a drunkard’s life, though he has still the relish
for liquor as strongly as ever, he no longer enjoys his former power of
withstanding it. This proceeds from general weakness of the system, and
more particularly of the stomach. This organ gets debilitated, and soon
gives way, while the person is intoxicated much easier, and often vomits
what he had swallowed. His appetite likewise fails; and, to restore it,
he has recourse to various bitters, which only aggravate the matter,
especially as they are in most cases taken under the medium of ardent
spirits. Bitters are often dangerous remedies. When used moderately, and
in cases of weak digestion from natural causes, they frequently produce
the best effects; but a long continuance of them is invariably injurious.
There is a narcotic principle residing in most bitters, which physicians
have too much overlooked. It destroys the sensibility of the stomach,
determines to the head, and predisposes to apoplexy and palsy. This was
the effects of the famous Portland Powder,[30] so celebrated many years
ago for the cure of gout; and similar consequences will, in the long-run,
follow bitters as they are commonly administered. Persons addicted to
intemperance, have an inordinate liking for these substances; let them be
ever so nauseous, they are swallowed greedily, especially if dissolved in
spirits. Their fondness for purl, herb-ale, and other pernicious morning
drinks, is equally striking.
There is nothing more characteristic of a tippler than an indifference to
tea, and beverages of a like nature. When a woman exhibits this quality,
we may reasonably suspect her of indulging in liquor. If drunkards
partake of tea, they usually saturate it largely with ardent spirits. The
unadulterated fluid is too weak a stimulus for their unnatural appetites.
III. _State of the Brain._—Inflammation of this organ is often a
consequence of intemperance. It may follow immediately after a debauch,
or it may arise secondarily from an excess of irritation being applied
to the body, during the stage of debility. Even an abstraction of
stimulus, as by applying too much cold to the head, may bring it on in
this latter state.
Dr. Armstrong, in his lectures, speaks of a chronic inflammation of
the brain and its membranes, proceeding, among other causes, from the
free use of strong wines and liquors. According to him, it is much more
common after, than before, forty years of age, although he has seen
several instances occurring in young persons. The brain gets diseased,
the diameter of the vessels being diminished, while their coats are
thickened and less transparent than usual. In some places they swell out
and assume a varicose appearance. The organ itself has no longer the same
delicate and elastic texture, becoming either unnaturally hard, or of a
morbid softness. Slight effusions in the various cavities are apt to take
place. Under these circumstances, there is a strong risk of apoplexy.
To this structure is to be ascribed the mental debasement, the loss of
memory, and gradual extinction of the intellectual powers. I believe that
the brains of all confirmed drunkards exhibit more or less of the above
appearances.
IV. _State of the Kidneys._—During intoxication the action of the kidneys
is always much increased; and this is a favourable circumstance, as,
more than any thing else it carries off the bad effects of drinking. The
kidney, however, in confirmed drunkards, is apt to become permanently
diseased, and secretes its accustomed fluid with unusual activity, not
only in the moments of drunkenness, when such an increase is useful,
but at all periods, even when the person abstains from every sort of
indulgence. The disease called diabetes is thus produced, which consists
in a morbid increase of the secretion, accompanied with a diseased state
of the texture of the kidneys. This affection is mostly fatal.
V. _State of the Bladder._—Drunkenness affects this organ in common with
almost every other; hence it is subject to paralysis, spasm, induration,
&c., and to all bad consequences thence resulting—such as pain,
incontinence, and retention of urine.
VI. _State of the Blood and Breath._—The blood of a professed drunkard,
as already stated, differs from that of a sober man. It is more dark, and
approaches to the character of venous. The ruddy tint of those carbuncles
which are apt to form upon the face, is no proof to the contrary, as the
blood which supplies them is crimsoned by exposure to the air, on the
same principle as that by which the blood in the pulmonary arteries
receives purification by the process of breathing. The blood of a
malt-liquor drinker is not merely darker, but also more thick and sizy
than in other cases, owing, no doubt, to the very nutritious nature of
his habitual beverage.
The breath of a drunkard is disgustingly bad, and has always a spirituous
odour. This is partly owing to the state of the stomach, which
communicates the flavour of its customary contents to respiration; and
partly, also, there can be little doubt, to the absorption of the liquor
by the blood, through the medium of the lacteals.
VII. _State of the Perspiration._—The perspiration of a confirmed
drunkard is as offensive as his breath, and has often a strong spirituous
odour. I have met with two instances, the one in a Claret, the other in a
Port drinker, in which the moisture which exuded from their bodies had a
ruddy complexion, similar to that of the wine on which they had committed
their debauch.
VIII. _State of the Eyes, &c._—The eyes may be affected with acute or
chronic inflammation. Almost all drunkards have the latter more or less.
Their eyes are red and watery, and have an expression so peculiar, that
the cause can never be mistaken. This, and a certain want of firmness
about the lips, which are loose, gross, and sensual, betray at once the
toper. Drunkenness impairs vision. The delicacy of the retina is probably
affected; and it is evident, that, from long-continued inflammation, the
tunica adnata which covers the cornea must lose its original clearness
and transparency.
Most drunkards have a constant tenderness and redness of the nostrils.
This, I conceive, arises from the state of the stomach and œsophagus.
The same membrane which lines them is prolonged upwards to the nose and
mouth, and carries thus far its irritability.
There is no organ which so rapidly betrays the Bacchanalian propensities
of its owner as the nose. It not only becomes red and fiery, like that of
Bardolph,[31] but acquires a general increase of size—displaying upon
its surface various small pimples, either wholly of a deep crimson hue,
or tipped with yellow, in consequence of an accumulation of viscid matter
within them. The rest of the face often presents the same carbuncled
appearances.
I have remarked that drunkards who have a foul, livid, and pimpled face,
are less subject to liver complaint than those who are free from such
eruptions. In this case the determination of blood to the surface of the
body seems to prevent that fluid from being directed so forcibly to the
viscera as it otherwise would be. The same fact is sometimes observed in
sober persons who are troubled with hepatic affection. While there is
a copious rush upon the face or body, they are comparatively well, but
no sooner does it go in than they are annoyed by the liver getting into
disorder.
IX. _State of the Skin._—The skin of a drunkard, especially if he be
advanced in life, has seldom the appearance of health. It is apt to
become either livid or jaundiced in its complexion, and feels rough
and scaly. There is a disease spoken of by Dr. Darwin, under the title
of _Psora Ebriorum_, which is peculiar to people of this description.
“Elderly people,” says he, “who have been much addicted to spirituous
drinks, as beer, wine, or alcohol, are liable to an eruption all over
their bodies; which is attended with very afflicting itching, and which
they probably propagate from one part of their bodies to another with
their own nails by scratching themselves.” I have met with several cases
of this disease, which is only one of the many forms of morbid action,
which the skin is apt to assume in drunkards.
X. _State of the Hair._—The hair of drunkards is generally dry, slow of
growth, and liable to come out; they are consequently more subject to
baldness than other people. At the same time, it would be exceedingly
unjust to suspect any one, whose hair was of this description, of
indulgence in liquors, for we frequently find in the soberest persons
that the hairs are arid, few in number, and prone to decay. Baldness
with such persons is merely a local affection, but in drunkards it is
constitutional, and proceeds from that general defect of vital energy
which pervades their whole system.
XI. _Inflammations._—Drunkards are exceedingly subject to all kinds of
inflammation, both from the direct excitement of the liquor, and from
their often remaining out in a state of intoxication, exposed to cold and
damp. Hence inflammatory affections of the lungs, intestines, bladder,
kidneys, brain, &c., arising from these sources. Rheumatism is often
traced to the neglect and exposure of a fit of drunkenness.
XII. _Gout._—Gout is the offspring of gluttony, drunkenness, or
sensuality, or of them all put together. It occurs most frequently with
the wine-bibber. A very slight cause may bring it on when hereditary
predisposition exists; but in other circumstances considerable excess
will be required before it makes its appearance. It is one of the most
afflicting consequences of intemperance, and seems to have been known
as such from an early age—mention being made of it by Hippocrates,
Aretæus, and Galen. Among the Roman ladies gout was very prevalent during
the latter times of the empire; and, at the present day, there are few
noblemen who have it not to hand down to their offspring as a portion of
their heritage.
XIII. _Tremors._—A general tremor is an attendant upon almost all
drunkards. This proceeds from nervous irritability. Even those who are
habitually temperate, have a quivering in their hands next morning, if
they indulge overnight in a debauch. While it lasts, a person cannot hold
any thing without shaking, neither can he write steadily. Among those who
have long devoted themselves to the mysteries of Silenus, this amounts
to a species of palsy, affecting the whole body, and even the lips, with
a sort of paralytic trembling. On awaking from sleep, they frequently
feel it so strongly, as to seem in the cold fit of an ague, being neither
able to walk steadily, nor articulate distinctly. It is singular that the
very cause of this distemper should be employed for its cure. When the
confirmed drunkard awakes with tremor, he immediately swallows a dram:
the most violent shaking is quieted by this means. The opium-eater has
recourse to the same method: to remove the agitation produced by one dose
of opium, he takes another. This, in both cases, is only adding fuel to
the fire—the tremors coming on at shorter intervals, and larger doses
being required for their removal.
Drunkards are more subject than any other class of people to apoplexy and
palsy.
XIV. _Palpitation of the Heart._—This is a very distressing consequence
of drunkenness, producing difficult breathing, and such a determination
to the head as often brings on giddiness. Drunkards are apt to feel it as
they step out of bed, and the vertigo is frequently so great as to make
them stumble. There are some sober persons who are much annoyed by this
affection. In them it may arise from spasmodic action of the fibres of
the heart, nervous irritability, or organic disease, such as aneurism, or
angina pectoris.
XV. _Hysteria._—Female drunkards are very subject to hysterical
affections. There is a delicacy of fibre in women, and a susceptibility
of mind, which make them feel more acutely than the other sex all
external influences. Hence the whole system is often violently affected
with hysterics and other varieties of nervous weakness. These affections
are not always traced to their true cause, which is often neither more
nor less than dram-drinking. When a woman’s nose becomes crimsoned at
the point, her eyes somewhat red, and more watery than before, and her
lips fuller and less firm and intellectual in their expression, we may
suspect that something wrong is going on.
XVI. _Epilepsy._—Drunkenness may bring on epilepsy, or falling sickness,
and may excite it into action in those who have the disease from other
causes. Many persons cannot get slightly intoxicated without having an
epileptic or other convulsive attack. These fits generally arise in the
early stages, before drunkenness has got to a height. If they do not
occur early, the individual will probably escape them altogether for the
time.
XVII. _Sterility._—This is a state to which confirmed drunkards are very
subject. The children of such persons are, in general, neither numerous
nor healthy. From the general defect of vital power in the parental
system, they are apt to be puny and emaciated, and more than ordinarily
liable to inherit all the diseases of those from whom they are sprung.
On this account, the chances of long life are much diminished among the
children of such parents. In proof of this, it is only necessary to
remark, that according to the London bills of mortality, one-half of the
children born in the metropolis die before attaining their third year;
while, of the children of the Society of Friends, a class remarkable for
sobriety and regularity of all kinds, one-half actually attain the age
of forty-seven years. Much of this difference, doubtless, originates
in the superior degree of comfort, and correct general habits of the
Quakers, which incline them to bestow every care in the rearing of their
offspring, and put it in their power to obtain the means of combating
disease; but the main-spring of this superior comfort and regularity is
doubtless temperance—a virtue which this class of people possess in an
eminent degree.
XVIII. _Emaciation._—Emaciation is peculiarly characteristic of the
spirit drinker. He wears away, before his time, into the “lean and
slippered pantaloon” spoken of by Shakspeare in his “Stages of Human
Life.” All drunkards, however, if they live long enough, become
emaciated. The eyes get hollow, the cheeks fall in, and wrinkles soon
furrow the countenance with the marks of age. The fat is absorbed from
every part, and the rounded plumpness which formerly characterized the
body soon wears away. The whole form gets lank and debilitated. There is
a want of due warmth, and the hand is usually covered with a chill clammy
perspiration.
The occurrence of emaciation is not to be wondered at in persons who are
much addicted to ardent spirits, for alcohol, besides being possessed of
no nutritive properties, prevents the due chymification of the food, and
consequently deteriorates the quality, besides diminishing the quantity
of chyle. The principle of nutrition being thus affected, the person
becomes emaciated as a natural consequence.
XIX. _Corpulency._—Malt liquor and wine drinkers are, for the most part,
corpulent, a state of body which rarely attends the spirit drinker,
unless he be, at the same time, a _bon vivant_. Both wines and malt
liquors are more nourishing than spirits. Under their use, the blood
becomes, as it were, enriched, and a universal deposition of fat takes
place throughout the system. The omentum and muscles of the belly are,
in a particular manner, loaded with this secretion; whence the abdominal
protuberance so remarkable in persons who indulge themselves in wines
and ales. As the abdomen is the part which becomes most enlarged, so
is it that which longest retains its enlargement. It seldom parts with
it, indeed, even in the last stages, when the rest of the body is in a
state of emaciation. There can be no doubt that the parts which first
lose their corpulency are the lower extremities. Nothing is more common
than to see a pair of spindle shanks tottering under the weight of an
enormous corporation, to which they seem attached more like artificial
appendages, than natural members. The next parts which give way, are the
shoulders. They fall flat, and lose their former firmness and rotundity
of organization. After this, the whole body becomes loose, flabby, and
inelastic; and five years do as much to the constitution as fifteen would
have done under a system of strict temperance and sobriety. The worst
symptom that can befall a corpulent man, is the decline of his lower
extremities.[32] So long as they continue firm, and correspond with the
rest of the body, it is a proof that there is still vigour remaining;
but when they gradually get attenuated, while other parts retain their
original fulness, there can be no sign more sure that his constitution is
breaking down, and that he will never again enjoy his wonted strength.
XX. _Premature Old Age._—Drunkenness has a dreadful effect in
anticipating the effects of age. It causes time to pace on with giant
strides—chases youth from the constitution of its victims—and clothes
them prematurely with the grey garniture of years. How often do we see
the sunken eye, the shrivelled cheek, the feeble, tottering step, and
hoary head, in men who have scarcely entered into the autumn of their
existence. To witness this distressing picture, we have only to walk
out early in the mornings, and see those gaunt, melancholy shadows of
mortality, betaking themselves to the gin-shops, as to the altar of
some dreadful demon, and quaffing the poisoned cup to his honour, as
the Carthagenians propitiated the deity of their worship, by flinging
their children into the fire which burned within his brazen image. Most
of these unhappy persons are young, or middle-aged men; and though some
drunkards attain a green old age, they are few in number compared with
those who sink untimely into the grave ere the days of their youth have
well passed by.[33] Nothing is more common than to see a man of fifty
as hoary, emaciated, and wrinkled, as if he stood on the borders of
fourscore.
The effect of intemperance in shortening life is strikingly exemplified
in the contrast afforded by other classes of society to the Quakers, a
set of people of whom I must again speak favourably. It appears from
accurate calculation, that in London only one person in forty attains the
age of fourscore, while among the Quakers, whose sobriety is proverbial,
and who have long set themselves against the use of ardent spirits, not
less than one in ten reaches that age—a most striking difference, and one
which carries its own inference along with it.
It is remarked by an eminent practitioner, that of more than a hundred
men in a glass-manufactory, three drank nothing but water, and these
three appeared to be of their proper age, while the rest who indulged in
strong drinks seemed ten or twelve years older than they proved to be.
This is conclusive.[34]
XXI. _Ulcers._—Ulcers often break out on the bodies of drunkards.
Sometimes they are fiery and irritable, but in general they possess
an indolent character. Of whatever kind they may be, they are always
aggravated in such constitutions. A slight cause gives rise to them;
and a cut or bruise which, in health, would have healed in a few days,
frequently degenerates into a foul sloughy sore. When drunkards are
affected with scrofula, scurvy, or any cutaneous disease whatever, they
always, _cæteris paribus_, suffer more than other people.
XXII. _Melancholy._—Though drunkards over their cups are the happiest
of mankind, yet, in their solitary hours, they are the most wretched.
Gnawing care, heightened perhaps by remorse, preys upon their
conscience. While sober, they are distressed both in body and mind, and
fly to the bowl to drown their misery in oblivion. Those, especially,
whom hard fate drove to this desperate remedy, feel the pangs of low
spirits with sevenfold force. The weapon they employ to drive away care
is turned upon themselves. Every time it is used, it becomes less capable
of scaring the fiend of melancholy, and more effectual in wounding him
that uses it.
All drunkards are apt to become peevish and discontented with the world.
They turn enemies to the established order of things, and, instead of
looking to themselves, absurdly blame the government as the origin of
their misfortunes.
XXIII. _Madness._—This terrible infliction often proceeds from
drunkenness. When there is hereditary predisposition, indulgence in
liquor is more apt to call it into action than when there is none.
The mind and body act reciprocally upon one another; and when the one
is injured the other must suffer more or less. In intemperance, the
structure of the brain is no longer the same as in health; and the mind,
that immortal part of man, whose manifestations depend upon this organ,
suffers a corresponding injury.
Intoxication may affect the mind in two ways. A person, after excessive
indulgence in liquor, may be seized with delirium, and run into a
state of violent outrage and madness. In this case the disease comes
suddenly on: the man is fierce and intractable, and requires a strait
jacket to keep him in order. Some never get drunk without being insanely
outrageous; they attack, without distinction, all who come in their way,
foam at the mouth, and lose all sense of danger. This fit either goes
off in a few hours, or degenerates into a confirmed attack of lunacy.
More generally, however, the madness of intoxication is of another
character, partaking of the nature of idiotism, into which state the mind
resolves itself, in consequence of a long-continued falling off in the
intellectual powers.
Drunkenness, according to the reports of Bethlehem Hospital, and other
similar institutions for the insane, is one of the most common causes of
lunacy. In support of this fact, it may be mentioned that of two hundred
and eighty-six lunatics now in the Richmond Asylum, Dublin, one-half owe
their madness to drinking; and there are few but must have witnessed
the wreck of the most powerful minds, by this destructive habit. It has
a more deplorable effect upon posterity than any other practice, for it
entails, not only bodily disease upon the innocent offspring, but also
the more afflicting diseases of the mind. Madness of late years has been
greatly on the increase among the lower classes, and can only be referred
to the alarming progress of drunkenness, which prevails now to a much
greater extent among the poor than ever it did at any former period.[35]
XXIV. _Delirium Tremens._—Both the symptoms and treatment of this
affection require to be mentioned, because, unlike the diseases already
enumerated, it invariably originates in the abuse of stimuli, and is
cured in a manner peculiar to itself.
Those who indulge in spirits, especially raw, are most subject to
delirium tremens, although wine, malt liquor, opium, and even ether, may
give rise to it, if used in moderate quantities. The sudden cessation of
drinking in a confirmed toper, or a course of violent or long protracted
intemperance may equally occasion the disease. A man, for instance of the
former description, breaks his leg, or is seized with some complaint,
which compels him to abandon his potations. This man in consequence of
such abstinence is attacked with delirium tremens. In another man, it
is induced by a long course of tippling, or by a hard drinking-bout of
several days’ continuance.
The disease generally comes on with lassitude, loss of appetite, and
frequent exacerbations of cold. The pulse is weak and quick, and the
body covered with a chilly moisture. The countenance is pale, there are
usually tremors of the limbs, anxiety, and a total disrelish for the
common amusements of life. Then succeed retching, vomiting, and much
oppression at the pit of the stomach, with sometimes slimy stools. When
the person sleeps, which is but seldom, he frequently starts in the
utmost terror, having his imagination haunted by frightful dreams. To
the first coldness, glows of heat succeed, and the slightest renewed
agitation of body or mind, sends out a profuse perspiration. The tongue
is dry and furred. Every object appears unnatural and hideous. There is
a constant dread of being haunted by spectres. Black or luminous bodies
seem to float before the person: he conceives that vermin and all sorts
of impure things are crawling upon him, and is constantly endeavouring
to pick them off. His ideas are wholly confined to himself and his own
affairs, of which he entertains the most disordered notions. He imagines
that he is away from home, forgets those who are around him, frequently
abuses his attendants, and is irritated beyond measure by the slightest
contradiction. Calculations, buildings, and other fantastic schemes
often occupy his mind; and a belief that every person is confederated to
ruin him, is commonly entertained. Towards morning there is often much
sickness and sometimes vomiting. This state generally lasts from four to
ten days, and goes off after a refreshing sleep; but sometimes either
from the original violence of the disease, or from improper treatment, it
proves fatal.
Such, in nine cases out of ten, is the character of delirium tremens.
Sometimes, however, the symptoms vary, and instead of a weak there is a
full pulse; instead of the face being pallid, it is flushed and the eyes
fiery; instead of a cold clammy skin, the surface is hot and dry. This
state only occurs in vigorous plethoric subjects. An habitually sober
man who has thoughtlessly rushed into a debauch, is more likely to be
attacked in this mariner than a professed drunkard. Indeed, I never met
with an instance of the latter having this modification of the disease.
When the patient perishes from delirium tremens he is generally carried
off in convulsions. There is another termination which the disease
sometimes assumes: it may run into madness or confirmed idiotism. Indeed,
when it continues much beyond the time mentioned, there is danger of the
mind becoming permanently alienated.
Subsultus, low delirium, very cold skin, short disturbed sleep,
contracted pupil, strabismus, rapid intermittent pulse, and frequent
vomiting, are indications of great danger. When the patient is affected
with subsultus from which he recovers in terror, the danger is extreme.
In treating delirium tremens, particular attention must be paid to the
nature of the disease, and constitution of the patient. In the first
mentioned, and by far the most frequent variety, blooding, which some
physicians foolishly recommend, is most pernicious. I have known more
than one instance where life was destroyed by this practice. As there is
generally much gastric irritation, as is indicated by the foul tongue,
black and viscid evacuations, and irritable state of the stomach, I
commence the treatment by administering a smart dose of calomel. As soon
as this has operated, I direct tepid water strongly impregnated with
salt, to be dashed over the body, and the patient immediately thereafter
to be well dried and put to bed. I then administer laudanum in doses of
from forty to sixty drops, according to circumstances, combining with
each dose from six to twelve grains of the carbonate of ammonia: this
I repeat every now and then till sleep is procured. It may sometimes
be necessary to give such doses every two hours, or even every hour,
for twelve or twenty successive hours, before the effect is produced.
The black drop in doses proportioned to its strength, which is more
than three times that of laudanum, may be used as a substitute for the
latter; the acetate or muriate of morphia, in doses of a quarter or half
a grain, is also a good medicine, having less tendency to produce stupor
or headach than laudanum, and therefore preferable in cases where the
patient is of a plethoric habit of body. It must be admitted, however,
that their effects are less to be depended upon than those of laudanum,
which, in all common cases will, I believe, be found the best remedy.
The great object of the treatment is to soothe the apprehensions of the
patient, and procure him rest. So soon as a sound sleep takes place
there is generally a crisis, and the disease begins to give way; but
till this occurs it is impossible to arrest its progress and effect a
cure. A moderate quantity of wine will be necessary, especially if he
has been a confirmed drinker, and labours under much weakness. Perhaps
the best way of administering wine is along with the laudanum, the
latter being dropped into the wine. Where wine cannot be had, porter
may be advantageously given in combination with laudanum. The principal
means, indeed, after the first purging, are opium, wine, ammonia, and
tepid effusion: the latter may be tried two, three, or four times in the
twenty-four hours, as occasion requires. The mind is, at the same time,
to be soothed in the gentlest manner, the whimsical ideas of the patient
to be humoured, and his fancies indulged as far as possible. All kinds
of restraint or contradiction are most hurtful. Some recommend blisters
to the head, but these are, in every case, injurious. So soon as all
the symptoms of the disease have disappeared some purgative should be
administered, but during its progress we must rely almost wholly upon
stimulants. To cure, by means of stimuli, a complaint which arose
from an over-indulgence in such agents, is apparently paradoxical; but
experience confirms the propriety of the practice where, _a priori_, we
might expect the contrary.
In the second variety of the disease, the same objections do not apply
to blood-letting as in the first, but even there, great caution is
necessary, especially if the disease has gone on for any length of time,
if the pulse is quick and feeble or the tongue foul. At first, general
blooding will often have an excellent effect, but should we not be
called till after this stage it will prove a hazardous experiment. Local
blooding will then sometimes be serviceable where general blooding could
not be safely attempted. The patient should be purged well with calomel,
have his head shaved, and kept cool with wet cloths, and sinapisms
applied to his feet. When the bowels are well evacuated, and no symptoms
of coma exist, opiates must be given as in the first variety, but in
smaller and less frequently repeated doses.
Much yet remains to be known with regard to the pathology of delirium
tremens. I believe that physicians have committed a dangerous error, in
considering these two varieties as modifications of the same disease.
In my opinion they are distinct affections and ought to be known under
different names. This cannot be better shown than in the conflicting
opinions with regard to the real nature of the disease. Dr. Clutterbuck,
having apparently the second variety in his eye, conceives that delirium
tremens arises from congestion or inflammation of the brain; while
Dr. Ryan, referring to the first, considers it a nervous affection,
originating in that species of excitement often accompanying debility.
It is very evident, that such different conditions require different
curative means. The genuine delirium tremens is that described under the
first variety, and I agree with Dr. Ryan in the view he takes of the
character of this singular disease.
GENERAL REMARKS.—Such are the principal diseases brought on by
drunkenness. There are still several others which have not been
enumerated—nor is there any affection incident to either the body or
mind which the vice does not aggravate into double activity. The number
of persons who die in consequence of complaints so produced, is much
greater than unprofessional people imagine. This fact is well known to
medical men, who are aware that many of the cases they are called upon
to attend, originate in liquor, although very often the circumstance
is totally unknown either to the patient or his friends. This is
particularly the case with regard to affections of the liver, stomach,
and other viscera concerned in digestion. Dr. Willan, in his reports of
the diseases of London, states his conviction that considerably more than
one-eighth of all the deaths which take place in persons above twenty
years old, happen prematurely through excess in drinking spirits. Nor
are the moral consequences less striking: Mr. Poynter, for three years
Under-Sheriff of London and Westminster, made the following declaration
before a Committee of the House of Commons:—“I have long been in the
habit of hearing criminals refer all their misery to drinking, so that I
now almost cease to ask them the cause of their ruin. This evil lies at
the root of all other evils of this city and elsewhere. Nearly all the
convicts for murder with whom I have conversed, have admitted themselves
to have been under the influence of liquor at the time of the act.” “By
due observation for nearly twenty years,” says the great Judge Hales,
“I have found that if the murders and manslaughters, the burglaries and
robberies, and riots and tumults, the adulteries, fornications, rapes,
and other great enormities, that have happened in that time, were
divided into five parts, four of them have been the issues and product of
excessive drinking—of tavern and ale-house meetings.” According to the
_Caledonian Mercury_ of October 26, 1829, no fewer than ninety males,
and one hundred and thirty _females_, in a state of intoxication, were
brought to the different police watchhouses of Edinburgh, in the course
of the previous week—being the greatest number for many years. Nor is
Glasgow, in this respect, a whit better than Edinburgh. On March 1, 1830,
of forty-five cases brought before the police magistrate in Glasgow,
forty were for drunkenness; and it is correctly ascertained that more
than nine thousand cases of drunkenness are annually brought before the
police, from this city and suburbs—a frightful picture of vice. In the
ingenious Introductory Essay attached to the Rev. Dr. Beecher’s Sermons
on Intemperance, the following passage occurs, and I think, instead of
exaggerating it rather underrates the number of drunkards in the quarter
alluded to. “Supposing that one-half of the eighteen hundred licensed
houses for the sale of spirits which are in that city, send forth each
a drunken man, every day, there are, in Glasgow, nine hundred drunken
men, day after day, spreading around them beggary, and wretchedness, and
crime!” Had the author given to each licensed house, one drunkard on an
average, I do not think he would have overstepped the bounds of truth.
As it is, what a picture of demoralization and wretchedness does it not
exhibit!
CHAPTER XI.
SLEEP OF DRUNKARDS.
To enter at large upon the subject of sleep would require a volume. At
present I shall only consider it so far as it is modified by drunkenness.
The drunkard seldom knows the delicious and refreshing slumbers of
the temperate man. He is restless, and tosses in bed for an hour or
two before falling asleep. Even then, his rest is not comfortable. He
awakes frequently during night, and each time his mouth is dry, his
skin parched, and his head, for the most part, painful and throbbing.
These symptoms, from the irritable state of his constitution, occur even
when he goes soberly to bed; but if he lie down heated with liquor, he
feels them with double force. Most persons who fall asleep in a state
of intoxication, have much headach, exhaustion, and general fever, on
awaking. Some constitutions are lulled to rest by liquors, and others
rendered excessively restless; but the first are no gainers by the
difference, as they suffer abundantly afterwards. Phlegmatic drunkards
drop into slumber more readily than the others: their sleep is, in
reality, a sort of apoplectic stupor.
I. _Dreams._—Dreams may be readily supposed to be common, from the
deranged manifestations of the stomach and brain which occur in
intoxication. They are usually of a painful nature, and leave a gloomy
impression upon the mind. In general, they are less palpable to the
understanding than those which occur in soberness. They come like painful
grotesque conceptions across the imagination; and though this faculty
can embody nothing into shape, meaning, or consistence, it is yet
haunted with melancholy ideas. These visions depend much on the mental
constitution of the person, and are modified by his habitual tone of
thinking. It is, however, to be remarked, that while the waking thoughts
of the drunkard are full of sprightly images, those of his sleep are
usually tinged with a shade of perplexing melancholy.
II. _Nightmare._—Drunkards are more afflicted than other people with
this disorder, in so far as they are equally subject to all the ordinary
causes, and liable to others, from which sober people are exempted.
Intoxication is fertile in producing reveries and dreams, those
playthings of the fancy; and it may also give rise to such a distortion
of idea, as to call up incubus, and all its frightful accompaniments.
III. _Sleep-walking._—Somnambulism is another affection to which
drunkards are more liable than their neighbours. I apprehend that the
slumber is never profound when this takes place, and that, in drunkenness
in particular, it may occur in a state of very imperfect sleep.
Drunkards, even when consciousness is not quite abolished, frequently
leave their beds and walk about the room. They know perfectly well
what they are about, and recollect it afterwards, but if questioned,
either at the moment or at any future period, they are totally unable
to give any reason for their conduct. Sometimes after getting up,
they stand a little time and endeavour to account for rising, then go
again deliberately to bed. There is often, in the behaviour of these
individuals, a strange mixture of folly and rationality. Persons half
tipsy have been known to arise and go out of doors in their night-dress,
being all the while sensible of what they were doing, and aware of its
absurdity. The drunken somnambulism has not always this character.
Sometimes the reflecting faculties are so absorbed in slumber, that the
person has no consciousness of what he does. From drinking, the affection
is always more dangerous than from any other cause, as the muscles have
no longer their former strength, and are unable to support the person
in his hazardous expeditions. If he gets upon a house-top, he does not
balance himself properly, from giddiness; he is consequently liable
to falls and accidents of every kind. It is considered, with justice,
dangerous to awaken a sleepwalker. In a drunken fit, there is less
risk than under other circumstances, the mind being so far confused by
intoxication, as to be, in some measure, insensible to the shock.
IV. _Sleep-talking._—For the same reason that drunkards are peculiarly
prone to somnambulism are they subject to sleep-talking, which is merely
a modification of the other. The imagination, being vehemently excited
by the drunken dream, embodies itself often in speech, which however is,
in almost every case, extremely incoherent, and wants the rationality
sometimes possessed by the conversation of sleep-talkers under other
circumstances.
CHAPTER XII.
SPONTANEOUS COMBUSTION OF DRUNKARDS.
Whether such a quantity of hydrogen may accumulate in the bodies of
drunkards as to sustain combustion, is not easy to determine. This
subject is, indeed, one which has never been satisfactorily investigated;
and notwithstanding the cases brought forward in support of the
doctrine, the general opinion seems to be, that the whole is fable, or
at least so much involved in obscurity as to afford no just grounds for
belief. The principal information on this point, is in the _Journal
de Physique_, in an article by Pierre-Aimé Lair, a copy of which was
published in the sixth volume of the _Philosophical Transactions_,
by Mr. Alexander Tilloch. A number of cases are there given: and it
is not a little singular that the whole of them are those of women
in advanced life. When we consider that writers like Vicq d’Azyr, Le
Cat, Maffei, Jacobæus, Rolli, Bianchini, and Mason Good, have given
their testimony in support of such facts, it requires some effort to
believe them unfounded in truth. At the same time, in perusing the cases
themselves, it is difficult to divest the mind of an idea that some
misstatement or other exists, either as to their alleged cause or their
actual nature—and that their relaters have been led into an unintentional
misrepresentation. The most curious fact connected with this subject is,
that the combustion appears seldom to be sufficiently strong to inflame
combustible substances with which it comes in contact, such as woollen
or cotton, while it destroys the body, which in other circumstances is
hardly combustible at all.[36] Sometimes the body is consumed by an
open flame flickering over it—at other times there is merely a smothered
heat or fire, without any visible flame. It is farther alleged that
water, instead of allaying, aggravates the combustion. This species of
burning, indeed, is perfectly _sui generis_, and bears no resemblance to
any species of combustion with which we are acquainted. In most cases it
breaks out spontaneously, although it may be occasioned by a candle, a
fire, or a stroke of lightning; but in every case it is wholly peculiar
to itself. M. Foderé remarks, that hydrogen gas is developed in certain
cases of disease, even in the living body; and he seems inclined to join
with M. Mere in attributing what is called spontaneous combustion to the
united action of hydrogen and electricity in the first instance, favoured
by the accumulation of animal oil, and the impregnation of spirituous
liquors. In the present state of our knowledge, it is needless to hazard
any conjectures upon this mysterious subject. The best way is to give a
case or two, and let the reader judge for himself.
CASE OF MARY CLUES.—“This woman, aged fifty, was much addicted
to intoxication. Her propensity to this vice had increased
after the death of her husband, which happened a year and a
half before: for about a year, scarcely a day had passed in the
course of which she did not drink at least half a pint of rum
or aniseed water. Her health gradually declined, and about the
beginning of February, she was attacked by the jaundice and
confined to her bed. Though she was incapable of much action,
and not in a condition to work, she still continued her old
habit of drinking every day, and smoking a pipe of tobacco.
The bed in which she lay stood parallel to the chimney of the
apartment, at the distance from it of about three feet. On
Saturday morning, the 1st of March, she fell on the floor, and
her extreme weakness having prevented her from getting up, she
remained in that state till some one entered and put her to
bed. The following night she wished to be left alone: a woman
quitted her at half-past eleven, and, according to custom,
shut the door and locked it. She had put on the fire two large
pieces of coal, and placed a light in a candlestick on a chair
at the head of the bed. At half-past five in the morning,
smoke was seen issuing through the window, and the door being
speedily broke open, some flames which were in the room were
soon extinguished. Between the bed and the chimney were found
the remains of the unfortunate Clues; one leg and a thigh were
still entire, but there remained nothing of the skin, the
muscles, and the viscera. The bones of the cranium, the breast,
the spine, and the upper extremities were entirely calcined,
and covered with a whitish efflorescence. The people were much
surprised that the furniture had sustained so little injury.
The side of the bed which was next the chimney had suffered
most; the wood of it was slightly burned, but the feather-bed,
the clothes, and covering were safe. I entered the apartment
about two hours after it had been opened, and observed that the
walls and every thing in it were blackened; that it was filled
with a very disagreeable vapour; but that nothing except the
body exhibited any strong traces of fire.”
This case first appeared in the _Annual Register_ for 1773, and is a
fair specimen of the cases collected in the _Journal de Physique_. There
is no evidence that the combustion was spontaneous, as it may have been
occasioned either by lightning, or by contact with the fire. The only
circumstance which militates against the latter supposition, is the very
trifling degree of burning that was found in the apartment.
CASE OF GRACE PITT.—“Grace Pitt, the wife of a fishmonger in
the parish of St. Clement, Ipswich, aged about sixty, had
contracted a habit, which she continued for several years, of
coming down every night from her bed-room, half dressed, to
smoke a pipe. On the night of the 9th of April, 1744, she got
up from her bed as usual. Her daughter, who slept with her,
did not perceive she was absent till next morning when she
awoke, soon after which she put on her clothes, and going down
into the kitchen, found her mother stretched out on the right
side, with her head near the grate; the body extended on the
hearth, with the legs on the floor, which was of deal, having
the appearance of a log of wood, consumed by a fire without
apparent flame. On beholding this spectacle, the girl ran
in great haste and poured over her mother’s body some water
contained in two large vessels in order to extinguish the fire;
while the fœtid odour and smoke which exhaled from the body,
almost suffocated some of the neighbours who had hastened
to the girl’s assistance. The trunk was in some measure
incinerated, and resembled a heap of coals covered with white
ashes. The head, the arms, the legs, and the thighs, had also
participated in the burning. This woman, it is said, had drunk
a large quantity of spirituous liquors in consequence of being
overjoyed to hear that one of her daughters had returned from
Gibraltar. There was no fire in the grate, and the candle had
burned entirely out in the socket of the candlestick, which was
close to her. Besides, there were found near the consumed body,
the clothes of a child and a paper screen, which had sustained
no injury by the fire. The dress of this woman consisted of a
cotton gown.”
This case is to be found in the _Transactions of the Royal Society of
London_, and is one of the most decided, and least equivocal instances of
this species of combustion to be met with. It was mentioned at the time
in all the journals, and was the subject of much speculation and remark.
The reality of its occurrence was attested by many witnesses, and three
several accounts of it, by different hands, all nearly coincide.
CASE OF DON GIO MARIA BERTHOLI.—“Having spent the day in
travelling about the country, he arrived in the evening at the
house of his brother-in-law. He immediately requested to be
shown to his destined apartment, where he had a handkerchief
placed between his shirt and shoulders; and, being left alone
betook himself to his devotions. A few minutes had scarcely
elapsed when an extraordinary noise was heard in the chamber,
and the cries of the unfortunate man were particularly
distinguished: the people of the house, hastily entering the
room, found him extended on the floor, and surrounded by a
light flame, which receded (_à mesure_) as they approached,
and finally vanished. On the following morning, the patient
was examined by Mr. Battlaglia, who found the integuments of
the right arm almost entirely detached, and pendant from the
flesh; from the shoulders to the thighs, the integuments were
equally injured; and on the right hand, the part most injured,
mortification had already commenced, which, notwithstanding
immediate scarification, rapidly extended itself. The patient
complained of burning thirst, was horribly convulsed, and
was exhausted by continual vomiting, accompanied by fever
and delirium. On the fourth day, after two hours of comatose
insensibility, he expired. During the whole period of his
sufferings, it was impossible to trace any symptomatic
affection. A short time previous to his death, M. Battlaglia
observed with astonishment, that putrefaction had made so much
progress, the body already exhaled an insufferable odour;
worms crawled from it on the bed, and the nails had become
detached from the left hand.
“The account given by the unhappy patient was, that he felt a
stroke like the blow of a cudgel on the right hand, and at the
same time he saw a lambent flame attach itself to his shirt,
which was immediately reduced to ashes, his wristbands, at the
same time being utterly untouched. The handkerchief which, as
before-mentioned, was placed between his shoulders and his
shirt, was entire, and free from any trace of burning; his
breeches were equally uninjured, but though not a hair of his
head was burned, his coif was totally consumed. The weather on
the night of the accident, was calm, and the air very pure; no
empyreumatic or bituminous odour was perceived in the room,
which was also free from smoke; there was no vestige of fire,
except that the lamp which had been full of oil, was found dry,
and the wick reduced to a cinder.”
This case is from the work of Foderé, and is given as abridged by Paris
and Fonblanque, in their excellent treatise on Medical Jurisprudence. It
occurred in 1776, and is one of the best authenticated to be met with.
I am not aware that the subject of it was a drunkard; if he were not,
and if the facts be really true, we must conclude that spontaneous
combustion may occur in sober persons as well as in the dissipated.
CASE OF MADAME MILLET.—“Having,” says Le Cat, “spent several
months at Rheims, in the years 1724 and 1725, I lodged at the
house of Sieur Millet, whose wife got intoxicated every day.
The domestic economy of the family was managed by a pretty
young girl, which I must not omit to remark, in order that
all the circumstances which accompanied the fact I am about
to relate, may be better understood. This woman was found
consumed on the 10th of February, 1725, at the distance of a
foot and a half from the hearth in her kitchen. A part of the
head only, with a portion of the lower extremities, and a few
of the vertebræ, had escaped combustion. A foot and a half of
the flooring under the body had been consumed, but a kneading
trough and a powdering tub, which were very near the body,
sustained no injury. M. Chriteen, a surgeon, examined the
remains of the body with every judicial formality. Jean Millet,
the husband, being interrogated by the judges who instituted
the inquiry into the affair, declared, that about eight in the
evening, on the 9th of February, he had retired to rest with
his wife, who not being able to sleep, went into the kitchen,
where he thought she was warming herself; that, having fallen
asleep, he was awakened about two o’clock by an infectious
odour, and that, having run to the kitchen, he found the
remains of his wife in the state described in the report of the
physicians and surgeons. The judges, having no suspicion of the
real cause of this event, prosecuted the affair with the utmost
diligence. It was very unfortunate for Millet that he had a
handsome servant-maid, for neither his probity nor innocence
were able to save him from the suspicion of having got rid
of his wife by a concerted plot, and of having arranged the
rest of the circumstances in such a manner as to give it the
appearance of an accident. He experienced, therefore, the whole
severity of the law; and though, by an appeal to a superior
and very enlightened court, which discovered the cause of the
combustion, he came off victorious, he suffered so much from
uneasiness of mind, that he was obliged to pass the remainder
of his days in an hospital.”
The above case has a peculiar importance attached to it, for it shows
that, in consequence of combustion, possibly spontaneous, persons have
been accused of murder. Foderé, in his work, alludes to several cases of
this kind.
Some chemists have attempted to account for this kind of combustion, by
the formation of phosphuretted hydrogen in the body. This gas, as is well
known, inflames on exposure to the air; nor can there be a doubt that if
a sufficient quantity were generated, the body might be easily enough
consumed. If such an accumulation can be proved ever to take place, there
is an end to conjecture; and we have before us a cause sufficiently
potent to account for the burning. Altogether I am inclined to think,
that although most of the related cases rest on vague report, and are
unsupported by such proofs as would warrant us in placing much reliance
upon them, yet sufficient evidence nevertheless exists, to show that
such a phenomenon as spontaneous combustion has actually taken place,
although doubtless the number of cases has been much exaggerated. Dr.
Mason Good, justly observes, “There may be some difficulty in giving
credit to so marvellous a diathesis: yet, examples of its existence, and
of its leading to a migratory and fatal combustion are so numerous, and
so well authenticated, and press upon us from so many different countries
and eras, that it would be absurd to withhold our assent.” “It can no
longer be doubted,” says Dr. Gordon Smith, “that persons have retired
to their chambers in the usual manner, and in place of the individual,
a few cinders, and perhaps part of his bones, were found.” Inflammable
eructations are said to occur occasionally in northern latitudes, when
the body has been exposed to intense cold after excessive indulgence
in spirituous liquors; and the case of a Bohemian peasant is narrated,
who lost his life in consequence of a column of ignited inflammable air
issuing from his mouth, and baffling extinction. This case, as well as
others of the same kind, is alleged to have arisen from phosphuretted
hydrogen, generated by some chemical combination of alcohol and animal
substances in the stomach. What truth there may be in these relations
I do not pretend to say. They wear unquestionably the aspect of a
fiction; and are, notwithstanding, repeated from so many quarters, that
it is nearly as difficult to doubt them altogether as to give them our
entire belief. There is one thing, however, which may be safely denied;
and that is the fact of drunkards having been blown up in consequence
of their breath or eructations catching fire from the application of
alighted candle. These tales are principally of American extraction;
and seem elaborated by that propensity for the marvellous for which our
transatlantic brethren have, of late years, been distinguished.
Upon the whole, this subject is extremely obscure, and has never been
satisfactorily treated by any writer. Sufficient evidence appears to me
to exist in support of the occurrence, but any information as to the
remote or proximate cause of this singular malady, is as yet exceedingly
defective and unsatisfactory.
In a memoir lately read before the Académie des Sciences, the following
are stated to be the chief circumstances connected with spontaneous
combustion.
“1. The greater part of the persons who have fallen victims to it, have
made an immoderate use of alcoholic liquors. 2. The combustion is almost
always general, but sometimes is only partial. 3. It is much rarer among
men than among women, and they are principally old women. There is but
one case of the combustion of a girl seventeen years of age, and that
was only partial. 4. The body and the viscera are invariably burnt,
while the feet, the hands, and the top of the skull almost always escape
combustion. 5. Although it requires several fagots to burn a common
corpse, incineration takes place in these spontaneous combustions without
any effect on the most combustible matters in the neighbourhood. In
an extraordinary instance of a double combustion operating upon two
persons in one room, neither the apartment nor the furniture was burnt.
6. It has not been at all proved that the presence of an inflamed body
is necessary to develop spontaneous human combustions. 7. Water, so far
from extinguishing the flame, seems to give it more activity; and when
the flame has disappeared, secret combustion goes on. 8. Spontaneous
combustions are more frequent in winter than in summer. 9. General
combustions are not susceptible of cure, only partial. 10. Those who
undergo spontaneous combustion are the prey of a very strong internal
heat. 11. The combustion bursts out all at once, and consumes the body
in a few hours. 12. The parts of the body not attacked are struck with
mortification. 13. In persons who have been attacked with spontaneous
combustion, a putrid degeneracy takes place which soon leads to gangrene.”
In this singular malady medicine is of no avail. The combustion is kept
up by causes apparently beyond the reach of remedy, and in almost every
case, life is extinct before the phenomenon is perceived.
CHAPTER XIII.
DRUNKENNESS JUDICIALLY CONSIDERED.
Not only does the drunkard draw down upon himself many diseases, both
of body and mind, but if, in his intoxication, he commit any crime or
misdemeanour, he becomes, like other subjects, amenable to the pains of
law. In this respect, indeed, he is worse off than sober persons, for
drunkenness far from palliating, is held to aggravate every offence;
the law does not regard it as any extenuation of crime. “A drunkard,”
says Sir Edward Coke, “who is _voluntarius demon_, hath no privilege
thereby; but what hurt or ill soever he doth, his drunkenness doth
aggravate it.” In the case of the King _versus_ Maclauchlin, March,
1737, the plea of drunkenness, set up in mitigation of punishment, was
not allowed by the court. Sir George Mackenzie says he never found it
sustained, and that in a case of murder it was repelled—Spott _versus_
Douglas, 1667. Sir Matthew Hales, c. 4, is clear against the validity of
the defence, and all agree that “_levis et modica ebrietas non excusat
nec minuit delictum_.” It is a maxim in legal practice, that “those
who presume to commit crimes when drunk, must submit to punishment
when sober.” This state of the law is not peculiar to modern times. In
ancient Greece it was decreed by Pittacus, that “he who committed a crime
when intoxicated, should receive a double punishment,” _viz._ one for
the crime itself, and the other for the ebriety which prompted him to
commit it. The Athenians not only punished offences done in drunkenness
with increased severity, but, by an enactment of Solon, inebriation in
a magistrate was made capital. The Roman law was, in some measure, an
exception, and admitted ebriety as a plea for any misdeeds committed
under its influence: _per vinum delapsis capitalis pœna remittitur_.
Notwithstanding this tenderness to offences by drunkards, the Romans,
at one period, were inconsistent enough to punish the vice itself with
death, if found occurring in a woman. By two acts passed in the reign
of James I., drunkenness was punishable with fine, and, failing payment,
with sitting publicly for six hours in the stocks; 4 Jac. I. c. 5, and
21 Jac. I. c. 7. By the first of these acts, Justices of the Peace may
proceed against drunkards at the Sessions, by way of indictment; and this
act remained in operation till the 10th of October, 1828, at which time,
by the act of the 9 Geo. IV. c. 61, § 35, the law for the suppression of
drunkenness was repealed, without providing any punishment for offenders
in this respect. Previous to this period, the ecclesiastical courts could
take cognizance of the offence, and punish it accordingly. As the law
stands at present, therefore, drunkenness, _per se_, is not punishable,
but acts of violence committed under its influence are held to be
aggravated rather than otherwise; nor can the person bring it forward
as an extenuation of any folly or misdemeanour which he may chance to
commit. In proof of this, it may be stated, that a bond signed in a fit
of intoxication, holds in law, and is perfectly binding, unless it can be
shown that the person who signed it was inebriated by the collusion or
contrivance of those to whom the bond was given. A judge or magistrate
found drunk _upon the bench_, is liable to removal from his office; and
decisions pronounced by him in that state are held to be null and void.
Such persons cannot, while acting _ex officio_, claim the benefit of the
repeal in the ancient law—their offence being in itself an outrage on
justice, and, therefore, a misdemeanour. Even in blasphemy, uttered in a
state of ebriety, the defence goes for nothing, as is manifest from the
following case, given in Maclaurin’s Arguments and Decisions, p. 731.
“Nov. 22, 1697. Patrick Kinninmouth, of that Ilk, was brought to trial
for blasphemy and adultery. The last charge was passed from. The
indictment alleged, He had affirmed Christ was a bastard, and that he
had said, ‘If any woman had God on one side, and Christ on the other,
he would stow [cut] the lugs [ears] out of her head in spite of them
both.’ He pleaded chiefly that he was drunk or mad when he uttered these
expressions, if he did utter them. The court found the libel relevant to
infer the pains libelled, _i. e._ death; and found the defence, That the
pannel was furious or distracted in his wits relevant; but repelled the
allegeance of fury or distraction arising _from drunkenness_.”
It thus appears that the laws both of Scotland and England agree in
considering drunkenness no palliation of crime, but rather the reverse;
and it is well that it is so, seeing that ebriety could be easily
counterfeited, and made a cloak for the commission of atrocious offences.
By the laws, drunkenness is looked upon as criminal, and this being
the case, they could not consistently allow one crime to mitigate the
penalties due to another.
There is only one case where drunkenness can ever be alleged in
mitigation of punishment—that is, where it has induced “a state of mind
perfectly akin to insanity.” It is, in fact, one of the common causes of
that disease. The partition line between intoxication and insanity, may
hence become a subject of discussion.
“William M’Donough was indicted and tried for the murder of his wife,
before the Supreme Court of the State of Massachusetts, in November,
1817. It appeared in testimony, that several years previous he had
received a severe injury of the head; that although relieved of this,
yet its effects were such as occasionally to render him insane. At these
periods he complained greatly of his head. The use of spirituous liquors
immediately induced a return of the paroxysms, and in one of them, thus
induced, he murdered his wife. He was with great propriety found guilty.
The _voluntary use_ of a stimulus which, he was fully aware, would
disorder his mind, fully placed him under the power of the law.”[37]
“In the State of New York, we have a statute which places the property
of habitual drunkards under the care of the chancellor, in the same
manner as that of lunatics. The overseers of the poor in each town
may, when they discover a person to be an habitual drunkard, apply to
the chancellor for the exercise of his power and jurisdiction. And in
certain cases, when the person considers himself aggrieved, it may be
investigated by six freeholders, whether he is actually what he is
described to be, and their declaration is, _primâ facie_, evidence of the
fact.”[38] [This act was passed March 16, 1821.]
“In Rydgway _v._ Darwin, Lord Eldon cites a case where a commission
of lunacy was supported against a person, who, when sober, was a very
sensible man, but being in a constant state of intoxication, he was
incapable of managing his property.”[39]
CHAPTER XIV.
METHOD OF CURING THE HABIT OF DRUNKENNESS.
To remove the habit of drunkenness from any one in whom it has been
long established, is a task of peculiar difficulty. We have not only to
contend against the cravings of the body, but against those of the mind;
and in struggling with both, we are, in reality, carrying on a combat
with nature herself. The system no longer performs its functions in the
usual manner; and to restore these functions to their previous tone
of action, is more difficult than it would be to give the man action
altogether the reverse of nature and of health.
The first step to be adopted, is the discontinuance of all liquors or
substances which have the power of intoxicating. The only question
is—should they be dropped at once, or by degrees? Dr. Trotter, in his
Essay on Drunkenness, has entered into a long train of argument, to prove
that, in all cases, they ought to be given up _instanter_. He contends,
that, being in themselves injurious, their sudden discontinuance cannot
possibly be attended with harm. But his reasonings on this point, though
ingenious are not conclusive. A dark unwholesome dungeon is a bad thing,
but it has been remarked, that those who have been long confined to such
a place, have become sick if suddenly exposed to the light and pure air,
on recovering their liberty: had this been done by degrees, no evil
effects would have ensued. A removal from an unhealthy climate (to which
years had habituated a man) to a healthy one, has sometimes been attended
with similar consequences. Even old ulcers cannot always be quickly
healed up with safety. Inebriation becomes, as it were, a second nature,
and is not to be rapidly changed with impunity, more than other natures.
Spurzheim[40] advances the same opinion. “Drunkards,” says he, “cannot
leave off their bad habits suddenly, without injuring their health.”
Dr. Darwin speaks in like terms of the injurious effects of too sudden
a change; and for these, and other reasons about to be detailed, I am
disposed, upon the whole, to coincide with them.
If we consider attentively the system of man, we will be satisfied that
it accommodates itself to various states of action. It will perform a
healthy action, of which there is only one state, or a diseased action,
of which there are a hundred. The former is uniform, and homogeneous.
It may be raised or lowered, according to the state of the circulation,
but its nature is ever the same: when that changes—when it assumes
new characters—it is no longer the action of health, but of disease.
The latter may be multiplied to infinity, and varies with a thousand
circumstances; such as the organ which is affected, and the substance
which is taken. Now, drunkenness in the long run, is one of those
diseased actions. The system no longer acts with its original purity:
it is operated upon by a fictitious excitement, and, in the course of
time, assumes a state quite foreign to its original constitution—an
action which, however unhealthy, becomes, ultimately, in some measure,
natural. When we use opium for a long time, we cannot immediately get rid
of it, because it has given rise to a false action in the system—which
would suffer a sudden disorder if deprived of its accustomed stimulus.
To illustrate this, it may be mentioned, that when Abbas the Great
published an edict to prohibit the use of coquenar, (the juice of boiled
poppies,) on account of its dismal effects on the constitution, a great
mortality followed, which was only stopped at last by restoring the use
of the prohibited beverage. Disease, under such circumstances, triumphs
over health, and has established so strong a hold upon the body, that it
is dislodged with difficulty by its lawful possessor. When we wish to get
rid of opium, or any other narcotic to which we are accustomed, we must
do so by degrees, and let the healthy action gradually expel the diseased
one. Place spirits or wine in the situation of opium, and the results
will be the same. For these reasons, I am inclined to think, that,
in many cases at least, it would be improper and dangerous to remove
intoxicating liquors all at once from the drunkard. Such a proceeding
seems at variance with the established actions of the human body, and as
injudicious as unphilosophical.
I do not, however, mean to say, that there are no cases in which it
would be necessary to drop liquors all at once. When much bodily vigour
remains—when the morning cravings for the bottle are not irresistible,
nor the appetite altogether broken, the person should give over his
bad habits instantly. This is a state of incipient drunkenness. He has
not yet acquired the constitution of a confirmed sot, and the sooner he
ceases the better. The immediate abandonment of drinking may also, in
general, take place when there is any organic disease, such as enlarged
liver, dropsy, or scirrhus stomach. Under these circumstances, the
sacrifice is much less than at a previous period, as the frame has, in a
great measure, lost its power of withstanding liquors, and the relish for
them is also considerably lessened. But even then, the sudden deprivation
of the accustomed stimulus has been known to produce dangerous
exhaustion; and it has been found necessary to give it again, though in
more moderate quantities. Those drunkards who have no particular disease,
unless a tremor and loss of appetite be so denominated, require to be
deprived of the bottle by degrees. Their system would be apt to fall into
a state of torpor if it were suddenly taken away, and various mental
diseases, such as melancholy, madness, and delirium tremens, might even
be the result. With such persons, however, it must be acknowledged that
there is very great difficulty in getting their potations diminished.
Few have fortitude to submit to any reduction. There is, as the period
of the accustomed indulgence arrives, an oppression and faintness at
the _præcordia_, which human nature can scarcely endure, together with
a gnawing desire, infinitely more insatiable than the longings of a
pregnant woman.
To prove the intensity of the desire for the bottle, and the
difficulty, often insurmountable, of overcoming it, I extract the
following interesting and highly characteristic anecdote from a recent
publication:—“A gentleman of very amiable dispositions, and justly
popular, contracted habits of intemperance: his friends argued, implored,
remonstrated; at last he put an end to all importunity in this manner:—To
a friend who was addressing him in the following strain—‘Dear Sir George,
your family are in the utmost distress on account of this unfortunate
habit; they perceive that business is neglected; your moral influence
is gone; your health is ruined; and, depend upon it, the coats of your
stomach will soon give way, and then a change will come too late.’ The
poor victim, deeply convinced of the hopelessness of his case, replied
thus—‘My good friend, your remarks are just; they are, indeed, too true;
but I can no longer resist temptation: if a bottle of brandy stood at one
hand, and the pit of hell yawned at the other, and if I were convinced I
would be pushed in as sure as I took one glass, I could not refrain. You
are very kind. I ought to be grateful for so many kind good friends, but
you may spare yourselves the trouble of trying to reform me: the thing is
impossible.’”
The observation of almost every man must have furnished him with cases
not less striking than the above. I could relate many such which have
occurred in my own practice, but shall at present content myself with
one.—I was lately consulted by a young gentleman of fortune from the
north of England. He was aged twenty-six, and was one of the most
lamentable instances of the resistless tyranny of this wretched habit
that can possibly be imagined. Every morning, before breakfast, he drank
a bottle of brandy: another he consumed between breakfast and dinner; and
a third shortly before going to bed. Independently of this, he indulged
in wine and whatever liquor came within his reach. Even during the hours
usually appropriated to sleep, the same system was pursued—brandy being
placed at the bed side for his use in the night-time. To this destructive
vice he had been addicted since his sixteenth year; and it had gone on
increasing from day to day, till it had acquired its then alarming and
almost incredible magnitude. In vain did he try to resist the insidious
poison. With the perfect consciousness that he was rapidly destroying
himself, and with every desire to struggle against the insatiable
cravings of his diseased appetite, he found it utterly impossible to
offer the slightest opposition to them. Intolerable sickness, faintings,
and tremors, followed every attempt to abandon his potations; and had
they been taken suddenly away from him, it cannot be doubted that
delirium tremens and death would have been the result.
There are many persons that cannot be called drunkards, who,
nevertheless, indulge pretty freely in the bottle, though after
reasonable intervals. Such persons usually possess abundance of health,
and resist intoxication powerfully. Here the stomach and system in
general lose their irritability, in the same way as in confirmed topers,
but this is more from torpor than from weakness. The springs of life
become less delicate; the pivots on which they move get, as it were,
clogged, and, though existence goes on with vigour, it is not the
bounding and elastic vigour of perfect health. This proceeds, not from
debility, but from torpor; the muscular fibre becoming, like the hands
of a labouring man, hardened and blunted in its sensibilities. Such are
the effects brought on by a _frequent_ use of inebriating agents, but an
_excessive_ use in every case gives rise to weakness. This the system
can only escape by a proper interval being allowed to elapse between our
indulgences. But if dose be heaped on dose, before it has time to rally
from former exhaustion, it becomes more and more debilitated; the blood
ceases to circulate with its wonted force; the secretions get defective,
and the tone of the living fibre daily enfeebled. A debauch fevers the
system, and no man can stand a perpetual succession of fevers without
injuring himself, and at last destroying life.
Drunkenness, in the long run, changes its character. The sensations
of the confirmed tippler, when intoxicated, are nothing, in point
of pleasure, to those of the habitually temperate man, in the same
condition. We drink at first for the serenity which is diffused over
the mind, and not from any positive love we bear to the liquor. But,
in the course of time, the influence of the latter, in producing gay
images, is deadened. It is then chiefly a mere animal fondness for drink
which actuates us. We like the taste of it, as a child likes sweetmeats;
and the stomach, for a series of years, has been so accustomed to an
unnatural stimulus, that it cannot perform its functions properly
without it. In such a case, it may readily be believed that liquor could
not be suddenly removed with safety.
The habit will sometimes be checked by operating skilfully upon the mind.
If the person has a feeling heart, much may be done by representing to
him the state of misery into which he will plunge himself, his family,
and his friends. Some men, by a strong effort, have given up liquors at
once, in consequence of such representations.
Some drunkards have attempted to cure themselves by the assumption of
voluntary oaths. They go before a magistrate, and swear that, for a
certain period, they shall not taste liquors of any kind; and it is but
just to state, that these oaths are sometimes strictly enough kept. They
are, however, much oftener broken—the physical cravings for the bottle
prevailing over whatever religious obligation may have been entered into.
Such a proceeding is as absurd as it is immoral, and never answers the
purpose of effecting any thing like a radical cure; for, although the
person abides by his solemn engagement, it is only to resume his old
habits more inveterately than ever, the moment it expires.
Many men become drunkards from family broils. They find no comfort at
home, and gladly seek for it out of doors. In such cases, it will
be almost impossible to break the habit. The domestic sympathies and
affections, which oppose a barrier to dissipation, and wean away the mind
from the bottle, have here no room to act. When the mother of a family
becomes addicted to liquor, the case is very afflicting. Home, instead of
being the seat of comfort and order, becomes a species of Pandemonium:
the social circle is broken up, and all its happiness destroyed. In this
case, there is no remedy but the removal of the drunkard. A feeling of
perversity has been known to effect a cure among the fair sex. A man of
Philadelphia, who was afflicted with a drunken wife, put a cask of rum in
her way, in the charitable hope that she would drink herself to death.
She suspected the scheme, and, from a mere principle of contradiction,
abstained in all time coming, from any sort of indulgence in the bottle.
I may mention another American anecdote of a person reclaimed from
drunkenness, by means not less singular. A man in Maryland, notoriously
addicted to this vice, hearing an uproar in his kitchen one evening,
felt a curiosity to step without noise to the door, to know what was the
matter, when he beheld his servants indulging in the most unbounded roar
of laughter at a couple of his negro boys, who were mimicking himself in
his drunken fits, showing how he reeled and staggered—how he looked and
nodded, and hiccupped and tumbled. The picture which these children of
nature drew of him, and which had filled the rest with so much merriment,
struck him so forcibly, that he became a perfectly sober man, to the
unspeakable joy of his wife and children.
Man is very much the creature of habit. By drinking regularly at certain
times, he feels the longing for liquor at the stated return of those
periods—as after dinner, or immediately before going to bed, or whatever
the period may be. He even feels it in certain companies, or in a
particular tavern at which he is in the habit of taking his libations. We
have all heard the story of the man who could never pass an inn on the
road-side without entering it and taking a glass, and who, when, after
a violent effort, he succeeded in getting beyond the spot, straightway
returned to reward himself with a bumper for his resolution. It is a
good rule for drunkards to break all such habits. Let the frequenter of
drinking clubs, masonic lodges, and other Bacchanalian assemblages, leave
off attending these places; and if he must drink, let him do so at home,
where there is every likelihood his potations will be less liberal.
Let him also forswear the society of boon companions, either in his
own habitation or in theirs. Let him, if he can manage it, remove from
the place of his usual residence, and go somewhere else. Let him also
take abundance of exercise, court the society of intellectual and sober
persons, and turn his attention to reading, or gardening, or sailing, or
whatever other amusement he has a fancy for. By following this advice
rigidly, he will get rid of that baleful habit which haunts him like his
shadow, and intrudes itself by day and by night into the sanctuary of
his thoughts. And if he refuses to lay aside the Circean cup, let him
reflect that Disease waits upon his steps—that Dropsy, Palsy, Emaciation,
Poverty, and Idiotism, followed by the pale phantom, Death, pursue him
like attendant spirits, and claim him as their prey.
Sometimes an attack of disease has the effect of sobering drunkards
for the rest of their lives. I knew a gentleman who had apoplexy in
consequence of dissipation. He fortunately recovered, but the danger
which he had escaped made such an impression upon his mind, that he
never, till his dying day, tasted any liquor stronger than simple water.
Many persons, after such changes, become remarkably lean; but this is not
an unhealthy emaciation. Their mental powers also suffer a very material
improvement—the intellect becoming more powerful, and the moral feelings
more soft and refined.
In a small treatise on Naval Discipline, lately published, the
following whimsical and ingenious mode of punishing drunken seamen is
recommended:—“Separate for one month every man who was found drunk, from
the rest of the crew: mark his clothes ‘drunkard;’ give him six-water
grog, or, if beer, mixed one-half water; let them dine when the crew
had finished; employ them in every dirty and disgraceful work, &c. This
had such a salutary effect, that in less than six months not a drunken
man was to be found in the ship. The same system was introduced by the
writer into every ship on board which he subsequently served. When first
lieutenant of the Victory and Diomede, the beneficial consequences were
acknowledged—the culprits were heard to say, that they would rather
receive six dozen lashes at the gangway, and be done with it, than be put
into the ‘drunken mess’ (for so it was named) for a month.”
Those persons who have been for many years in the habit of indulging
largely in drink, and to whom it has become an _elixir vitæ_
indispensable to their happiness, cannot be suddenly deprived of
it. This should be done by slow degrees, and must be the result of
conviction. If the quantity be forcibly diminished against the person’s
will, no good can be done; he will only seize the first opportunity
to remunerate himself for what he has been deprived of, and proceed
to greater excesses than before. If his mind can be brought, by calm
reflection, to submit to the decrease, much may be accomplished in the
way of reformation. Many difficulties undoubtedly attend this gradual
process, and no ordinary strength of mind is required for its completion.
It is, however, less dangerous than the method recommended by Dr.
Trotter, and ultimately much more effectual. Even although his plan were
free of hazard, its effects are not likely to be lasting. The unnatural
action, to which long intemperance had given rise, clings to the system
with pertinacious adherence. The remembrance of liquor, like a delightful
vision, still attaches itself to the drunkard’s mind; and he longs
with insufferable ardour, to feel once more the ecstasies to which it
gave birth. This is the consequence of a too rapid separation. Had the
sympathies of nature been gradually operated upon, there would have been
less violence, and the longings had a better chance of wearing insensibly
away.
Among the great authorities for acting in this manner, may be mentioned
the celebrated Dr. Pitcairn. In attempting to break the habit in a
Highland chieftain, one of his patients, he exacted a promise that
the latter would every day drop as much sealing-wax into his glass as
would receive the impression of his seal. He did so, and as the wax
accumulated, the capacity of the glass diminished, and, consequently,
the quantity of whisky it was capable of containing. By this plan he
was cured of his bad habit altogether. In mentioning such a whimsical
proceeding, I do not mean particularly to recommend it for adoption;
although I am satisfied that the principle on which its eccentric
contriver proceeded was substantially correct.
A strong argument against too sudden a change is afforded in the case of
food. I have remarked that persons who are in the daily habit of eating
animal food feel a sense of weakness about the stomach if they suddenly
discontinue it, and live for a few days entirely upon vegetables. This
I have experienced personally, in various trials made for the purpose;
and every person in health, and accustomed to good living, will, I am
persuaded, feel the same thing. The stomach, from want of stimulus loses
its tone; the craving for animal food is strong and incessant; and, if
it be resisted, heartburn, water-brash, and other forms of indigestion,
are sure to ensue. In such a case vegetables are loathed as intolerably
insipid, and even bread is looked upon with disrelish and aversion. It is
precisely the same with liquors. Their sudden discontinuance, where they
have been long made use of, is almost sure to produce the same, and even
worse consequences to the individual.
I cannot give any directions with regard to the regimen of a reformed
drunkard. This will depend upon different circumstances, such as age,
constitution, diseases, and manner of living. It may be laid down as a
general rule, that it ought to be as little heating as possible. A milk
or vegetable diet will commonly be preferable to every other. But there
are cases in which food of a richer quality is requisite, as when there
is much emaciation and debility. Here it may even be necessary to give
a moderate quantity of wine. In gout, likewise, too great a change of
living is not always salutary, more especially in advanced years, where
there is weakness of the digestive organs, brought on by the disease.
In old age, wine is often useful to sustain the system, more especially
when sinking by the process of natural decay. The older a person is, the
greater the inconvenience of abstaining all at once from liquors, and
the more slowly ought they to be taken away. I cannot bring myself to
believe that a man who for half a century has drunk freely, can suddenly
discontinue this ancient habit without a certain degree of risk: the idea
is opposed to all that we know of the bodily and mental functions.
In attempting to cure the habit of drunkenness, opium may sometimes be
used with advantage. By giving it in moderate quantities, the liquor
which the person is in the habit of taking, may be diminished to a
considerable extent, and he may thus be enabled to leave them off
altogether. There is only one risk, and it is this—that he may become as
confirmed a votary of opium as he was before of strong liquors. Of two
evils, however, we should always choose the least: and it is certain that
however perniciously opium may act upon the system, its moral effects and
its power of injuring reputation are decidedly less formidable than those
of the ordinary intoxicating agents.
The following anecdote has been communicated to me by the late Mr.
Alexander Balfour, (Author of “Contemplation,” “Weeds and Wildflowers,”
and other ingenious works,) and exhibits a mode of curing dram-drinking
equally novel and effective:—
About the middle of last century, in a provincial town on the east
coast of Scotland, where smuggling was common, it was the practice for
two respectable merchants to gratify themselves with a social glass of
good Hollands, for which purpose they regularly adjourned, at a certain
hour, to a neighbouring gin-shop. It happened one morning that something
prevented one of them from calling on his neighbour at the usual time.
Many a wistful and longing look was cast for the friend so unaccountably
absent, but he came not. His disappointed companion would not go to the
dram-shop alone; but he afterwards acknowledged that the want of his
accustomed cordial rendered him uneasy the whole day. However, this
feeling induced him to reflect upon the bad habit he was acquiring, and
the consequences which were likely to follow. He therefore resolved to
discontinue dram-drinking entirely, but found it difficult to put his
resolution into practice, until, after some deliberation, he hit upon the
following expedient:—Filling a bottle with excellent Hollands, he lodged
it in his back-shop, and the first morning taking his dram, he replaced
it with simple water. Next morning he took a second dram, replacing it
with water; and in this manner he went on, replacing the fluid subtracted
from the bottle with water, till at last the mixture became insipid and
ultimately nauseous, which had such an effect upon his palate, that he
was completely cured of his bad habit, and continued to live in exemplary
soberness till his death, which happened in extreme old age.
Dr. Kain, an American physician, recommends tartar emetic for the cure
of habitual drunkenness. “Possessing,” he observes, “no positive taste
itself, it communicates a disgusting quality to those fluids in which it
is dissolved. I have often seen persons who, from taking a medicine in
the form of antimonial wine, could never afterwards drink wine. Nothing,
therefore, seems better calculated to form our indication of breaking
up the association, in the patient’s feelings, between his disease and
the relief to be obtained from stimulating liquors. These liquors,
with the addition of a very small quantity of emetic tartar, instead
of relieving, increase the sensation of loathing of food, and quickly
produce in the patient an indomitable repugnance to the vehicle of its
administration.” “My method of prescribing it, has varied according to
the habits, age, and constitution of the patient. I give it only in
alterative and slightly nauseating doses. A convenient preparation of the
medicine is eight grains dissolved in four ounces of boiling water—half
an ounce of the solution to be put into a half-pint, pint, or quart
of the patient’s favourite liquor, and to be taken daily in divided
portions. If severe vomiting and purging ensue, I should direct laudanum
to allay the irritation, and diminish the dose. In every patient it
should be varied according to its effects. In one instance, in a patient
who lived ten miles from me, severe vomiting was produced, more, I think,
from excessive drinking, than the use of the remedy. He recovered from
it, however, without any bad effects. In some cases, the change suddenly
produced in the patient’s habits, has brought on considerable lassitude
and debility, which were of but short duration. In a majority of cases,
no other effect has been perceptible than slight nausea, some diarrhœa,
and a gradual, but very uniform, distaste to the menstruum.”[41]
Having tried tartar emetic in several instances, I can bear testimony
to its good effects in habitual drunkenness. The active ingredient in
Chambers’s celebrated nostrum for the cure of ebriety, was this medicine.
Tartar emetic, however, must always be used with caution, and never
except under the eye of a medical man, as the worst consequences might
ensue from the indiscreet employment of so active an agent.
It seems probable that, in plethoric subjects, the habit of drunkenness
might be attacked with some success by the application of leeches, cold
applications and blisters to the head, accompanied by purgatives and
nauseating doses of tartar emetic. Dr. Caldwell of Lexington, conceives
drunkenness to be entirely a disease of the brain, especially of the
animal compartments of this viscus, and more especially of that portion
called by phrenologists the organ of _alimentiveness_, on which the
appetite for food and drink is supposed mainly to depend. Should his
views be correct, the above treatment seems eligible, at least in
drunkards of a full habit of body, and in such cases it is certainly
worthy of a full trial. I refer the reader to Dr. Caldwell’s Essay,
in which both the above doctrine and the practice founded upon it are
very ably discussed. It is, indeed, one of the ablest papers which has
hitherto appeared upon the subject of drunkenness.[42]
It very often happens, after a long course of dissipation, that the
stomach loses its tone, and rejects almost every thing that is swallowed.
The remedy, in this case, is opium, which should be given in the solid
form in preference to any other. Small quantities of negus are also
beneficial; and the carbonate of ammonia, combined with some aromatic, is
frequently attended with the best effects. When there is much prostration
of strength, wine should always be given. In such a case the entire
removal of the long-accustomed stimulus would be attended with the worst
effects. This must be done gradually.
Enervated drunkards will reap much benefit by removing to the country,
if their usual residence is in town. The free air and exercise renovate
their enfeebled frames; new scenes are presented to occupy their
attention; and, the mind being withdrawn from former scenes, the chain of
past associations is broken in two.
Warm and cold bathing will occasionally be useful, according to
circumstances. Bitters are not to be recommended, especially if employed
under the medium of spirits. When there is much debility, chalybeates
will prove serviceable. A visit to places where there are mineral springs
is of use, not only from the waters, but from the agreeable society to be
met with at such quarters. The great art of breaking the habit consists
in managing the drunkard with kindness and address. This management
must, of course, be modified by the events which present themselves, and
which will vary in different cases.
Persons residing in tropical climates ought, more than others, to avoid
intoxicating liquors. It is too much the practice in the West Indies to
allay thirst by copious draughts of rum punch. In the East Indies, the
natives, with greater propriety, principally use rice-water (congee);
while the Europeans residing there, are in the habit of indulging in
Champaign, Madeira, and other rich wines, which may in a great measure
account for the mortality prevailing among them in that region. A
fearful demoralization, as well as loss of life, is occasioned among
the British troops in the East and West Indies, from the cheapness of
spirituous liquors, which enables them to indulge in them to excess.
“Since the institution of the Recorder’s and Supreme Courts at Madras,”
says Sir Thomas Hislop, “no less than thirty-four British soldiers have
forfeited their lives for murder, and most of them were committed in
their intoxicated moments.” Dr. Rollo relates, that the 45th regiment
while stationed in Grenada, lost within a very few weeks, twenty-six
men out of ninety-six; at a time, too, when the island was remarkably
healthy. On inquiry, it was found that the common breakfast of the men
was raw spirits and pork. It is remarked by Desgenettes, in his Medical
History of the French Army in Egypt, that, “daily experience demonstrates
that almost all the soldiers who indulge in intemperate habits, and
are attacked with fevers, never recover.” In countries where the solar
influence is felt with such force, we cannot be too temperate. The food
should be chiefly vegetable, and the drink as unirritating as possible.
It may be laid down as an axiom, that in these regions, wine and ardent
spirits are invariably hurtful; not only in immediately heating the
body, but in exposing it to the influence of other diseases.[43] A great
portion of the deaths which occur among Europeans in the tropics, are
brought on by excess. Instead of suiting their regimen to the climate,
they persist in the habits of their own country, without reflecting that
what is comparatively harmless in one region, is most destructive in
another. There cannot be a stronger proof of this than the French troops
in the West Indies having almost always suffered less in proportion to
their numbers than the British, who are unquestionably more addicted to
intemperance. “I aver from my own knowledge and custom,” observes Dr.
Mosely, “as from the custom and observation of others, that those who
drink _nothing but water_, are but little affected by the climate, and
can undergo the greatest fatigue without inconvenience.”[44]
It is a common practice in the West of Scotland to send persons who are
excessively addicted to drunkenness, to rusticate and learn sobriety
on the islands of Loch Lomond. There are, I believe, two islands
appropriated for the purpose, where the convicts meet with due attention,
and whatever indulgences their friends choose to extend towards them.
Whether such a proceeding is consistent with law, or well adapted to
answer the end in view, may be reasonably doubted; but of its severity,
as a punishment, there can be no question. It is indeed impossible
to inflict any penalty upon drunkards so great as that of absolutely
debarring them from indulging in liquor.
In the next Chapter, I shall consider the method of curing and preventing
drunkenness by means of Temperance Societies.
CHAPTER XV
TEMPERANCE SOCIETIES.
Much has been said and written of late concerning Temperance Societies.
They have been represented by their friends as powerful engines for
effecting a total reformation from drunkenness, and improving the whole
face of society, by introducing a purer morality, and banishing the
hundred-headed monster, intemperance, and all its accompanying vices,
from the world. By their opponents, they have been ridiculed as visionary
and impracticable—as, at best, but temporary in their influence—as
erroneous in many of their leading views—as tyrannical, unsocial, and
hypocritical. Their members are represented as enthusiasts and fanatics;
and the more active portion of them—those who lecture on the subject,
and go about founding Societies—traduced as fools or impostors. Such are
the various views entertained by different minds of Temperance Societies;
but, leaving it to others to argue the point, for or against, according
to their inclinations, I shall simply state what I think myself of these
institutions—how far they do good or harm—and under what circumstances
they ought to be thought favourably of, or the reverse. Truth generally
lies _in mediis rebus_, and I suspect they will not form an exception to
the rule.
Temperance Societies proceed upon the belief that ardent spirits are,
_under all circumstances_, injurious to people in health, and that,
therefore, they ought to be altogether abandoned. I am anxious to think
favourably of any plan which has for its object the eradication of
drunkenness; and shall therefore simply express my belief that those
Societies have done good, and ought therefore to be regarded with a
favourable eye. That they have succeeded, or ever will succeed, in
reclaiming any considerable number of drunkards, I have great doubts;
but that they may have the effect of preventing many individuals from
becoming drunkards, is exceedingly probable. If this can be proved—which
I think it may be without much difficulty—it follows that they are
beneficial in their nature, and consequently, deserving of encouragement.
That they are wrong in supposing ardent spirits _invariably_ hurtful in
health, and they are also in error in advocating the instant abandonment,
_in all cases_, of intoxicating liquors, I have little doubt; but that
they are correct in their great leading views of the pernicious effects
of spirits to mankind in general, and that their principles, if carried
into effect, will produce good, is self-evident. Spirits when used in
moderation, cannot be looked upon as pernicious: nay, in certain cases,
even in health, they are beneficial and necessary. In countries subject
to intermittents, it is very well known that those who indulge moderately
in spirits are much less subject to these diseases than the strictly
abstinent. “At Walcheren it was remarked that those officers and soldiers
who took schnaps, _alias_ drams, in the morning, and smoked, escaped the
fever which was so destructive to the British troops; and the natives
generally insisted upon doing so before going out in the morning.”[45]
The following anecdote is equally in point. It took place on the Niagara
frontier of Upper Canada, in the year 1813. “A British regiment, from
some accident, was prevented from receiving the usual supply of spirits,
and in a very short time more than two thirds of the men were on the
sick list from ague or dysentery; while, the very next year on the
same ground, and in almost every respect under the same circumstances
except that the men had their usual allowance of spirits, the sickness
was extremely trifling. Every person acquainted with the circumstances
believed that the diminution of the sick, during the latter period,
was attributable to the men having received the quantity of spirits
to which they had been habituated.”[46] Indeed, I am persuaded that
while, in the tropics, stimulating liquors are highly prejudicial, and
often occasion, while they never prevent, disease, they are frequently
of great service in accomplishing the latter object in damp foggy
countries, especially when fatigue, poor diet, agues, dysenteries, and
other diseases of debility are to be contended against. It has been
stated, and, I believe, with much truth, that the dysentery which has
prevailed so much of late among the poorer classes in this country, has
been in many cases occasioned, and in others aggravated, in consequence
of the want of spirits, which, from the depressed state of trade, the
working classes are unable to procure; and should this assertion turn
out to be correct, it follows, that Temperance Societies, by the rigid
abstinence urged upon their members, have contributed to increase the
evil. The system is fortified against this disorder, as well as various
others, by a proper use of stimuli; while excess in the indulgence of
these agents exposes it to the attack of every disease and invariably
aggravates the danger. Water is unquestionably the natural drink of man,
but in the existing condition of things, we are no longer in a state of
nature, and cases consequently often occur wherein we must depart from
her original principles. There are many persons who find a moderate
use of spirits necessary to the enjoyment of health. In these cases it
would be idle to abandon them. They ought only to be given up when their
use is not required by the system. That such is the case in a great
majority of instances, must be fully admitted; and it is to these that
the principles of Temperance Societies can be applied with advantage.
Considering the matter in this light, the conclusion, we must come to is
simply that ardent spirits sometimes do good, but much oftener mischief.
By abandoning them altogether, we escape the mischief and lose the good.
Such is the inevitable effect, supposing Temperance Societies to come
into general operation. It remains, therefore, with people themselves to
determine whether they are capable of using spirits only when they are
beneficial, and then with a due regard to moderation. If they have so
little self-command, the sooner they connect themselves with Temperance
Societies the better. I believe that by a moderate indulgence in spirits
no man can be injured, and that many will often be benefited. It is their
abuse which renders them a curse rather than a blessing to mankind; and
it is with this abuse alone I find fault, in the same way as I would
object to excess in eating, or any other excess. People, therefore, would
do well to draw a distinction between the proper use and the abuse of
these stimulants, and regulate themselves accordingly.
Temperance Societies, however, though erroneous in some of their
principles, and injurious as applied to particular cases, may be of great
use towards society in general. Proceeding upon the well-known fact that
ardent spirits are peculiarly apt to be abused, and habitual drunkenness
to ensue, they place these agents under the ban of total interdiction,
and thus arrest the march of that baneful evil occasioned by their
excessive use. So far, therefore, as the individual members of these
institutions are concerned, a great good is effected at the sacrifice of
comparatively little. On such grounds, I fully admit their beneficial
effects, and wish them all success. At the same time, many sober
persons would not wish to connect themselves with them, for the plain
reason—that having never felt any bad effects from the small quantity of
ardent spirits they are in the habit of taking, but, on the contrary,
sometimes been the better for it—they would feel averse to come under any
obligation to abstain from these liquors altogether. Such, I confess, are
my own feelings on this subject; and in stating them, I am fully aware
that the advocates of the Societies will answer—that a man’s private
inclinations should be sacrificed to public good, and that for the sake
of a general example, he should abandon that which, though harmless to
him, in the limited extent to which he indulges in it, is pernicious to
the mass of mankind. This argument is not without point, and upon many
will tell with good effect, though, I believe, people in general will
either not acknowledge its force, or at least, refuse to act up to it.
Temperance Societies have had one effect: they have lessened the
consumpt of spirituous liquors to a vast extent, and have left that of
wines and malt liquors undiminished, or rather increased it; for although
the more strict members avoid even them, their use is not interdicted
by the rules of the Societies. By thus diminishing the consumption of
spirits, they have been the means of shutting up many small public
houses; of keeping numerous tradesmen and labourers from the tavern; of
encouraging such persons to sober habits, by recommending coffee instead
of strong liquor; and, generally speaking, of promoting industry and
temperance.
If a person were disposed to be very censorious, he might object to some
other things connected with them, such as the inconsistency of allowing
their members to drink wine and malt liquors, while they debar them from
ardent spirits. They do this on the ground that on the two first a man
is much less likely to become a drunkard than upon spirits—a fact which
may be fairly admitted, but which, I believe, arises, in some measure,
from its requiring more money to get drunk upon malt liquors and wine
than upon spirits. In abandoning the latter, however, and having recourse
to the others, it is proper to state, that the person often practises
a delusion upon himself; for in drinking wine, such at least as it is
procured in this country, he in reality consumes a large proportion of
pure spirits; and malt liquors contain not only the alcoholic principle
of intoxication, but are often sophisticated, as we have already seen,
with narcotics. I believe that, though not in the majority of cases,
yet in some, spirits in moderation are better for the system than malt
liquors: this is especially the case in plethoric and dyspeptic subjects.
Independently of this, it is much more difficult to get rid of the
effects of the latter. Much exercise is required for this purpose; and if
such is neglected, and the person is of full habit of body, it would have
been better if he had stuck by his toddy than run the risk of getting
overloaded with fat, and dropping down in a fit of apoplexy.
I know several members of the Temperance Society who are practising upon
themselves the delusion in question. They shun spirits, but indulge
largely in porter—to the extent perhaps of a bottle a-day. Nobody can
deny that by this practice they will suffer a great deal more than if
they took a tumbler or so of toddy daily; and the consequences are the
more pernicious, because, while indulging in these libations, they
imagine themselves to be all the while paragons of sobriety. Rather than
have permitted such a license to their members, Temperance Societies
should have proscribed malt liquors as they have done spirits. As it is,
a person may be a member, and follow the rules of the Societies, while he
is all the time habituating himself to drunkenness. These facts, with all
my respect for Temperance Societies, and firm belief in their utility,
I am compelled to mention; and I do so the more readily, as there is a
large balance of good in their favour, to overweigh whatever bad may be
brought against them.
But notwithstanding this, the fact that a habit of drunkenness is far
more likely to be caused by indulging habitually in spirits than in any
thing else, is undeniable; and Temperance Societies, in lessening the
consumpt of spirits, have accomplished a certain good, in so far as they
have thus been the means of diminishing, to a considerable extent, the
vice of drunkenness, of reclaiming a few topers, and preventing many from
becoming so who would certainly have fallen into the snare, had they not
been timously checked by their influence and example.
In conclusion, I have to repeat that I do not agree with the Societies in
considering ardent spirits always hurtful in health, or in recommending
the instant disuse of liquor in all cases of drunkenness. The reasons
for entertaining my own opinions on these points are given in the work,
and they are satisfactory to myself, whatever they may be to others. At
the same time, I fully admit that these institutions may often prove
eminently useful, and that the cases wherein they may be injurious to
those connected with them, are not many, compared to the mass of good
which they are capable of effecting. The man, therefore, who feels the
appetite for liquor stealing upon him, cannot adopt a wiser plan than
to connect himself with a body, the members of which will keep him in
countenance in sobriety, and, by their example, perhaps wean him away
from the bottle, and thus arrest him on the road to ruin.[47]
CHAPTER XVI.
ADVICE TO INVETERATE DRUNKARDS.
If a man is resolved to continue a drunkard, it may here be proper to
mention in what manner he can do so with least risk to himself. One of
the principal rules to be observed, not only by him, but by habitually
sober people, is never to take any inebriating liquor, especially
spirits, upon an empty stomach. There is no habit more common or more
destructive than this: it not only intoxicates readier than when food has
been previously taken, but it has a much greater tendency to impair the
functions of the digestive organs. In addition, drunkards should shun
raw spirits, which more rapidly bring on disease of the stomach, than
when used in a diluted state. These fluids are safe in proportion to the
state of their dilution; but to this general rule there is one exception,
_viz._ punch. This though the most diluted form in which they are used,
is, I suspect, nearly the very worst—not from the weakness of the
mixture, but from the acid which is combined with it. This acid, although
for the time being, it braces the stomach, and enables it to withstand
a greater portion of liquor than it would otherwise do, has ultimately
the most pernicious effect upon this organ—giving rise to thickening
of its coats, heartburn, and all the usual distressing phenomena of
indigestion. Other organs, such as the kidneys, also suffer, and gravelly
complaints are apt to be induced. A common belief prevails that punch is
more salubrious than any other spirituous compound, but this is grounded
on erroneous premises. When people sit down to drink punch, they are not
so apt—owing to the great length of time which elapses ere such a weak
fluid produces intoxication—to be betrayed into excess as when indulging
in toddy. In this point of view it may be said to be less injurious; but
let the same quantity of spirits be taken in the form of punch, as in
that of grog or toddy, and there can be no doubt that in the long run the
consequences will be far more fatal to the constitution. If we commit a
debauch on punch, the bad consequences cling much longer to the system
than those proceeding from a similar debauch upon any other combination
of ardent spirits. In my opinion, the safest way of using those liquids
is in the shape of grog.[48] Cold toddy, or a mixture of spirits, cold
water, and sugar, ranks next in the scale of safety; then warm toddy;
then cold punch—and raw spirit is the most pernicious of all.
The malt-liquor drunkard should, as a general rule, prefer porter to
strong ale. Herb ale and purl are very pernicious, but the lighter
varieties, such as small beer and home-brewed, are not only harmless,
but even useful. The person who indulges in malt liquor should take
much exercise. If he neglects this, and yields to the indolence apt to
be induced by these fluids, he becomes fat and stupid, and has a strong
tendency to apoplexy, and other diseases of plethora.
As to the wine-bibber, no directions can be given which will prove very
satisfactory. The varieties of wines are so numerous, that any complete
estimate of their respective powers is here impossible. It may, however,
be laid down as a general rule, that those which are most diuretic, and
excite least headach and fever are the safest for the constitution. The
light dry wines, such as Hock, Claret, Burgundy, Bucellas, Rhenish, and
Hermitage, are, generally speaking, more salubrious than the stronger
varieties, such as Port, Sherry, or Madeira. Claret, in particular, is
the most wholesome wine that is known. Tokay,[49] Frontignac, Malmsey,
Vino Tinto, Montifiascone, Canary, and other sweet wines, are apt,
in consequence of their imperfect fermentation, to produce acid upon
weak stomachs; but in other cases they are delightful drinks; and when
there is no tendency to acidity in the system, they may be taken with
comparative safety to a considerable extent. Whenever there is disease,
attention must be paid to the wines best adapted to its particular
nature. For instance, in gout, the acescent wines, such as Hock and
Claret, must be avoided, and Sherry or Madeira, substituted in their
room; and should even this run into the acetous fermentation, it must be
laid aside, and replaced by weak brandy and water. Champaign, except in
cases of weak digestion, is one of the safest wines that can be drunk.
Its intoxicating effects are rapid, but exceedingly transient, and depend
partly upon the carbonic acid which is evolved from it, and partly upon
the alcohol which is suspended in this gas, being applied rapidly and
extensively to a large surface of the stomach.
Drunkards will do well to follow the maxim of the facetious Morgan
Odoherty, and never mix their wines. Whatever wine they commence with,
to that let them adhere throughout the evening. If there be any case
where this rule may be transgressed with safety, it is perhaps in favour
of Claret, a moderate quantity of which is both pleasant and refreshing
after a course of Port or Madeira. Nor is the voice of the same eccentric
authority, with regard to malt liquors, less just or less worthy of
observance—the toper being recommended to abstain scrupulously from such
fluids when he means beforehand to “make an evening of it,” and sit
long at the bottle. The mixture, unquestionably, not only disorders the
stomach, but effectually weakens the ability of the person to withstand
the forthcoming debauch.
CHAPTER XVII.
EFFECTS OF INTOXICATING AGENTS ON NURSES AND CHILDREN.
Women, especially in a low station, who act as nurses, are strongly
addicted to the practice of drinking porter and ales, for the purpose of
augmenting their milk. This very common custom cannot be sufficiently
deprecated. It is often pernicious to both parties, and may lay the
foundation of a multitude of diseases in the infant. The milk, which
ought to be bland and unirritating, acquires certain heating qualities,
and becomes deteriorated to a degree of which those unaccustomed to
investigate such matters have little conception. The child nursed by a
drunkard is hardly ever healthy. It is, in a particular manner, subject
to derangements of the digestive organs, and convulsive affections. With
regard to the latter, Dr. North[50] remarks, that he has seen them almost
instantly removed by the child being transferred to a temperate woman. I
have observed the same thing, not only in convulsive cases, but in many
others. Nor are liquors the only agents whose properties are communicable
to the nursling. It is the same with regard to opium, tobacco, and other
narcotics. Purgatives transmit their powers in a similar manner, so much
so, that nothing is more common than for the child suckled by a woman
who has taken physic, to be affected with bowel complaint. No woman is
qualified to be a nurse, unless strictly sober; and though stout children
are sometimes reared by persons who indulge to a considerable extent in
liquor, there can be no doubt that they are thereby exposed to risk, and
that they would have had a much better chance of doing well, if the same
quantity of milk had been furnished by natural means. If a woman cannot
afford the necessary supply without these indulgences, she should give
over the infant to some one who can, and drop nursing altogether. The
only cases in which a moderate portion of malt liquor is justifiable,
are when the milk is deficient, and the nurse averse or unable to put
another in her place. Here, of two evils, we choose the least, and rather
give the infant milk of an inferior quality, than endanger its health, by
weaning it prematurely, or stinting it of its accustomed nourishment.
Connected with this subject is the practice of administering stimulating
liquors to children. This habit is so common in some parts of Scotland,
that infants of a few days old are often forced to swallow raw whisky.
In like manner, great injury is often inflicted upon children by the
frequent administration of laudanum, paregoric, Godfrey’s Cordial, and
other preparations of opium. The child in a short time becomes pallid,
emaciated, and fretful, and is subject to convulsive attacks, and every
variety of disorder in the stomach and bowels. Vomiting, diarrhœa, and
other affections of the digestive system ensue, and atrophy, followed by
death, is too often the consequence.
An experiment made by Dr. Hunter upon two of his children, illustrates
in a striking manner the pernicious effects of even a small portion
of intoxicating liquors, in persons of that tender age. To one of the
children he gave, every day after dinner, a full glass of Sherry: the
child was five years of age, and unaccustomed to the use of wine. To
the other child, of nearly the same age, and equally unused to wine, he
gave an orange. In the course of a week, a very marked difference was
perceptible in the pulse, urine, and evacuations from the bowels of the
two children. The pulse of the first child was raised, the urine high
coloured, and the evacuations destitute of their usual quantity of bile.
In the other child, no change whatever was produced. He then reversed the
experiment, giving to the first the orange, and to the second the wine,
and the results corresponded: the child who had the orange continued
well, and the system of the other got straightway into disorder, as in
the first experiment. Parents should therefore be careful not to allow
their youthful offspring stimulating liquors of any kind, except in cases
of disease, and then only under the guidance of a medical attendant. The
earlier persons are initiated in the use of liquor, the more completely
does it gain dominion over them, and the more difficult is the passion
for it to be eradicated. Children naturally dislike liquors—a pretty
convincing proof that in early life they are totally uncalled for, and
that they only become agreeable by habit. It is, in general, long before
the palate is reconciled to malt liquors; and most young persons prefer
the sweet home-made wines of their own country, to the richer varieties
imported from abroad. This shows that the love of such stimulants is in
a great measure acquired, and also points out the necessity of guarding
youth as much as possible from the acquisition of so unnatural a taste.
CHAPTER XVIII.
LIQUORS NOT ALWAYS HURTFUL.
Though drunkenness is always injurious, it does not follow that a
moderate and proper use of those agents which produce it is so. These
facts have been so fully illustrated that it is unnecessary to dwell
longer upon them; and I only allude to them at present for the purpose
of showing more fully a few circumstances in which all kinds of liquors
may be indulged in, not only without injury, but with absolute benefit.
It is impossible to deny that in particular situations, as in those
of hard-wrought sailors and soldiers, a moderate allowance is proper.
The body, in such cases, would often sink under the accumulation of
fatigue and cold, if not recruited by some artificial excitement. In
both the naval and mercantile service the men are allowed a certain
quantity of grog, experience having shown the necessity of this stimulus
in such situations. When Captain Bligh and his unfortunate companions
were exposed to those dreadful privations consequent to their being set
adrift, in an open boat, by the mutineers of the Bounty, the few drops
of rum which were occasionally doled out to each individual, proved of
such incalculable service, that, without this providential aid, every one
must have perished of absolute cold and exhaustion.[51] The utility of
spirits in enabling the frame to resist severe cold, I can still farther
illustrate by a circumstance personal to myself; and there can be no
doubt that the experience of every one must have furnished him with
similar examples. I was travelling on the top of the Caledonian coach,
during an intensely cold day, towards the end of November, 1821. We left
Inverness at five in the morning, when it was nearly pitch dark, and
when the thermometer probably stood at 18° of Fahr. I was disappointed
of an inside seat, and was obliged to take one on the top, where there
were nine outside passengers besides myself, mostly sportsmen returning
from their campaigns in the moors. From being obliged to get up so early,
and without having taken any refreshment, the cold was truly dreadful,
and set fear-noughts, fur caps, and hosiery, alike at defiance. So
situated, and whirling along at the rate of nearly nine miles an hour,
with a keen east wind blowing upon us from the snow-covered hills, I do
not exaggerate when I say, that some of us at least owed our lives to
ardent spirits. The cold was so insufferable, that, on arriving at the
first stage, we were nearly frozen to death. Our feet were perfectly
benumbed, and our hands, fortified as they were with warm gloves, little
better. Under such circumstances, we all instinctively called for
spirits, and took a glass each of raw whisky, and a little bread. The
effect was perfectly magical: heat diffused itself over the system, and
we continued comparatively warm and comfortable till our arrival at
Aviemore Inn, where we breakfasted. This practice was repeated several
times during the journey, and always with the same good effect. When at
any time the cold became excessive, we had recourse to our dram, which
ensured us warmth and comfort for the next twelve or fourteen miles,
without, on any occasion producing the slightest feeling of intoxication.
Nor had the spirits which we took any bad effects either upon the other
passengers or myself. On the contrary, we were all, so far as I could
learn, much the better of it; nor can there be a doubt, that without
spirits, or some other stimulating liquor, the consequences of such
severe weather would have been highly prejudicial to most of us. Some
persons deny that spirits possess the property of enabling the body to
resist cold, but, in the face of such evidence, I can never agree with
them. That, under these circumstances, they steel the system, at least
for a considerable time, against the effects of a low temperature, I
am perfectly satisfied. Analogy is in favour of this assertion, and
the experience of every man must prove its accuracy. At the same time,
I do not mean to deny that wine or ale might have done the same thing
equally well, and perhaps with less risk of ulterior consequences. We
had no opportunity of trying their efficacy in these respects, and were
compelled, in self-defence, to have recourse to what, in common cases
ought to be shunned, _viz._, raw spirits. The case was an extreme one,
and required an extreme remedy; such, however, as I would advise no one
to have recourse to without a similar plea of strong necessity to go upon.
It follows, then, that if spirits are often perverted to the worst
purposes, and capable of producing the greatest calamities, they are
also, on particular occasions, of unquestionable benefit. In many
affections, both they and wine are of more use than any medicine
the physician can administer. Wine is indicated in various diseases
of debility. Whenever there is a deficiency of the vital powers, as
in the low stages of typhus fever, in gangrene, putrid sore throat,
and, generally speaking, whenever weakness, unaccompanied by acute
inflammation, prevails, it is capable of rendering the most important
services. Used in moderation, it enables the system to resist the attack
of malignant and intermittent fevers. It is a promoter of digestion,
but sometimes produces acidity, in which case, spirits are preferable.
To assist the digestive process in weak stomachs, I sometimes prescribe
a tumbler of negus or toddy to be taken after dinner, especially if
the person be of a studious habit, or otherwise employed in a sedentary
occupation. Such individuals are often benefited by the stimulus
communicated to the frame by these cordials. In diarrhœa, dysentery,
cholera, cramps, tremors, and many other diseases, both spirits and wine
often tell with admirable effect, while they are contra-indicated in all
inflammatory affections. Malt liquors also, when used in moderation, are
often beneficial. Though the drunkenness produced by their excessive
use is of the most stupifying and disgusting kind, yet, when under
temperate management, and accompanied by sufficient exercise, they are
more wholesome than either spirits or wine. They abound in nourishment,
and are well adapted to the labouring man, whose food is usually not of
a very nutritive character. The only regret is, that they are so much
adulterated by narcotics. This renders them peculiarly improper for
persons of a plethoric habit, and also prevents them from being employed
in other cases where they might be useful. Persons of a spare habit of
body, are those likely to derive most benefit from malt liquors. I often
recommend them to delicate youths and young girls who are just shooting
into maturity, and often with the best effect. Lusty, full-bodied,
plethoric people, should abstain from them, at least from porter and
strong ale, which are much too fattening and nutritious for persons
of this description. They are also, generally speaking, injurious in
indigestion and bowel complaints, owing to their tendency to produce
flatulence. In such cases, they yield the palm to wine and spirits. It is
to be regretted that the system of making home-brewed ale, common among
the English, has made so little progress in Scotland. This excellent
beverage is free from those dangerous combinations employed by the
brewers, and to the labouring classes in particular, is a most nourishing
and salubrious drink. I fully agree with Sir John Sinclair in thinking,
that in no respect is the alteration in diet more injurious than in
substituting ardent spirits for ale—the ancient drink of the common
people. Though an occasional and moderate allowance of spirits will
often benefit a working man, still the tendency of people to drink these
fluids to excess renders even their moderate indulgence often hazardous;
and hence, in one respect, the superiority possessed over them by malt
liquors.
In higher circles, where there is good living and little work, liquors of
any kind are far less necessary; and, till a man gets into the decline of
life, they are, except under such circumstances as have been detailed,
absolutely useless. When he attains that age, he will be the better of a
moderate allowance to recruit the vigour which approaching years steal
from the frame. For young and middle-aged men, in good circumstances
and vigorous health, water is the best drink; the food they eat being
sufficiently nutritious and stimulating without any assistance from
liquor. For young people, in particular, liquors of all kinds are, under
common circumstances, not only unnecessary in health, but exceedingly
pernicious, even in what the world denominate _moderate_ quantities.
This is especially the case when the habit is daily indulged in. One
of the first physicians in Ireland has published his conviction on the
result of twenty years’ observation—“That were ten young men on their
twenty-first birth day, to begin to drink one glass (equal to two ounces)
of ardent spirits, or a pint of Port wine or Sherry, and were they to
drink this _supposed moderate quantity_ of strong liquor daily, the lives
of eight out of the ten would be abridged by twelve or fifteen years.”
“An American clergyman,” says Professor Edgar, “lately told me that one
of his parishioners was in the habit of sending to his son at school a
daily allowance of brandy and water, before the boy was twelve years
of age. The consequence was, that his son, before the age of seventeen,
was a confirmed drunkard, and he is now confined in a public hospital.”
The force of this anecdote must come home to every one. Nothing is more
common, even in the best society, than the practice of administering
wine, punch, &c., even to children—thus not only injuring their health,
and predisposing them to disease, but laying the foundation for
intemperance in their maturer years.
Having stated thus much, it is not to be inferred that I advocate
the banishment of liquors of any kind from society. Though I believe
mankind would be benefited upon the whole, were such stimulants to be
utterly proscribed, yet, in the present state of things, and knowing
the fruitlessness of any such recommendation, I do not go the length of
urging their total disuse. I only would wish to inculcate moderation, and
that in its proper meaning, and not in the sense too often applied to it;
for, in the practice of many, moderation (so called) is intemperance,
and perhaps of the most dangerous species, in so far as it becomes a
daily practice, and insinuates itself under a false character, into the
habits of life. Men thus indulge habitually, day by day, not perhaps
to the extent of producing any evident effect either upon the body or
mind at the time, and fancy themselves all the while strictly temperate,
while they are, in reality, undermining their constitution by slow
degrees—killing themselves by inches, and shortening their existence
several years. The quantity such persons take at a time, is perhaps
moderate and beneficial, if only occasionally indulged in, but, being
habitually taken, it injures the health, and thus amounts to actual
intemperance. “It is,” says Dr. Beecher, and I fully concur with him,
“a matter of unwonted certainty, that habitual tippling is worse than
periodical drunkenness. The poor Indian who once a-month drinks himself
_dead_, all but simple breathing, will outlive for years the man who
drinks little and often, and is not perhaps suspected of intemperance.
The use of ardent spirits _daily_, as ministering to cheerfulness or
bodily vigour, ought to be regarded as intemperance. No person probably,
ever did or ever will receive ardent spirits into his system once a-day
and fortify his constitution against its deleterious effects, or exercise
such discretion and self-government, as that the quantity will not be
increased, and bodily infirmities and mental imbecility be the result;
and, in more than half the instances, inebriation. Nature may hold out
long against this sapping and mining of the constitution, which daily
tippling is carrying on, but, first or last, this foe of life will bring
to the assault enemies of its own formation, before whose power the
feeble and the mighty will be alike unable to stand.”
Let those, therefore, who will not abandon liquors, use them in
moderation, and not _habitually_, or _day by day_, unless the health
should require it, for cases of this kind we sometimes do meet with,
though by no means so often as many would believe. Abstractly considered,
liquors are not injurious. It is their abuse that makes them so, in the
same manner as the most wholesome food becomes pernicious when taken to
an improper excess.
APPENDIX.
No. I.
_Excerpt from Paris’ Pharmacologia._
“The characteristic ingredient of all wines is _alcohol_, and the
quantity of this, and the condition or state of combination in which
it exists, are the circumstances that include all the interesting and
disputed points of medical inquiry. Daily experience convinces us that
the same quantity of alcohol, applied to the stomach under the form of
natural wine, and in a state of mixture with water, will produce very
different effects upon the body, and to an extent which it is difficult
to comprehend: it has, for instance, been demonstrated that Port,
Madeira, and Sherry contain from one-fourth to one-fifth of their bulk of
alcohol, so that a person who takes a bottle of either of them, will thus
take nearly half a pint of alcohol, or almost a pint of pure brandy! and
moreover, that different wines, although of the same specific gravity,
and consequently containing the same absolute proportion of spirit, will
be found to vary very considerably in their intoxicating powers; no
wonder, then, that such results should stagger the philosopher, who is
naturally unwilling to accept any tests of difference from the nervous
system, which elude the ordinary resources of analytical chemistry; the
conclusion was therefore drawn, that alcohol must necessarily exist
in wine, in a far different condition from that in which we know it
in a separate state, or, in other words, that its elements only could
exist in the vinous liquor, and that their union was determined, and,
consequently, alcohol produced by the action of distillation. That it
was _product_ and not the _educt_ of distillation, was an opinion which
originated with Rouelle, who asserted that alcohol was not completely
formed until the temperature was raised to the point of distillation:
more lately, the same doctrine was revived and promulgated by Fabbronni,
in the memoirs of the Florentine Academy. Gay-Lussac has, however,
silenced the clamorous partisans of this theory, by separating the
alcohol by distillation at the temperature of 66° Fah., and by the aid
of a vacuum, it has since been effected at 56°; besides, it has been
shown that by precipitating the colouring matter, and some of the other
elements of the wine, by _sub-acetate_ of _lead_, and then saturating
the clear liquor with _sub-carbonate_ of _potass_, the alcohol may
be completely separated without any elevation of temperature; and by
this ingenious expedient, Mr. Brande has been enabled to construct a
table, exhibiting the proportions of combined alcohol which exist in
the several kinds of wine: no doubt, therefore, can remain upon this
subject, and the fact of the difference of the effect, produced by the
same bulk of alcohol, when presented to the stomach in different states
of combination, adds another striking and instructive illustration to
those already enumerated in the course of this work, of the extraordinary
powers of chemical combination in modifying the activity of substances
upon the living system. In the present instance, the alcohol is so
combined with the extractive matter of the wine, that it is probably
incapable of exerting its full specific effects upon the stomach, before
it becomes altered in its properties, or, in other words, _digested_; and
this view of the subject may be fairly urged in explanation of the reason
why the intoxicating effects of the same wine are so liable to vary, in
degree, in the same individual, from the peculiar state of his digestive
organs at the time of his potation. Hitherto we have only spoken of
pure wine, but it is essential to state, that the stronger, wines of
Spain, Portugal, and Sicily, are rendered remarkable in this country
by the addition of brandy, and must consequently contain _uncombined_
alcohol, the proportion of which, however, will not necessarily bear a
ratio to the quantity added, because, at the period of its admixture, a
renewed fermentation is produced by the scientific vintner, which will
assimilate and combine a certain portion of the foreign spirit with the
wine: this manipulation, in technical language, is called _fretting-in_.
The free alcohol may, according to the experiments of Fabbronni, be
immediately separated by saturating the vinous fluid with _sub-carbonate_
of _potass_, while the combined portion will remain undisturbed: in
ascertaining the fabrication and salubrity of a wine, this circumstance
ought always to constitute a leading feature in the inquiry; and the
tables of Mr. Brande would have been greatly enhanced in practical value,
had the relative proportions of _uncombined_ spirit been appreciated in
his experiments, since it is to this, and not to the _combined_ alcohol
that the injurious effects of wine are to be attributed. ‘It is well
known,’ observes Dr. Macculloch, ‘that diseases of the liver are the
most common, and the most formidable of those produced by the use of
_ardent_ spirits; it is equally certain that no such disorders follow
the intemperate use of _pure_ wine, however long indulged in: to the
concealed and unwitting consumption of spirit, therefore, as contained
in the wines commonly drunk in this country, is to be attributed the
excessive prevalence of those hepatic affections, which are comparatively
little known to our continental neighbours.’ Thus much is certain, that
their ordinary wines contain no alcohol but what is disarmed of its
virulence by the prophylactic energies of combination.”
No. II.
_Mr. Brande’s Table of the Alcoholic strength of Liquors._
Proportion of pure Spirit
per Cent. by Measure.
1. Lissa, 26·47
Ditto, 24·35
Average, 25·41
2. Raisin wine, 26·40
Ditto, 25·77
Ditto, 23·20
Average, 25·12
3. Marsala, 26·03
Ditto, 25·05
Average, 25·09
4. Madeira, 24·42
Ditto, 23·93
Ditto (Sircial), 21·40
Ditto, 19·41
Average, 22·27
5. Currant wine, 20·55
6. Sherry, 19·81
Ditto, 19·83
Ditto, 18·79
Ditto, 18·25
Average, 19·17
7. Teneriffe, 19·79
8. Colares, 19·75
9. Lachryma Christi, 19·70
10. Constantia (white), 19·75
11. Ditto (red), 18·92
12. Lisbon, 18·94
13. Malaga (1666), 18·94
14. Bucellas, 18·49
15. Red Madeira, 22·30
Ditto, 18·40
Average, 20·35
16. Cape Muschat, 18·25
17. Cape Madeira, 22·94
Ditto, 20·50
Ditto, 18·11
Average, 20·51
18. Grape wine, 18·11
19. Calcavella, 19·20
Ditto, 18·10
Average, 18·65
20. Vidonia, 19·25
21. Alba Flora, 17·26
22. Malaga, 17·26
23. White Hermitage, 17·43
24. Rousillon, 19·00
Ditto, 17·26
Average, 18·13
25. Claret, 17·11
Ditto, 16·32
Ditto, 14·08
Ditto, 12·91
Average, 15·10
26. Malmsey Madeira, 16·40
27. Lunal, 15·52
28. Shiraz, 15·52
29. Syracuse, 15·28
30. Sauterne, 14·22
31. Burgundy, 16·60
Ditto, 15·22
Ditto, 14·53
Ditto, 11·95
Average, 14·57
32. Hock, 14·37
Ditto, 13·00
Ditto (old in cask), 8·88
Average, 12·08
33. Nice, 14·63
34. Barsac, 13·86
35. Tent, 13·30
36. Champaign (still), 13·80
Ditto (sparkling), 12·80
Ditto (red), 12·56
Ditto (ditto), 11·30
Average, 12·61
37. Red Hermitage, 12·32
38. Vin de Grave, 13·94
Ditto, 12·80
Average, 13·37
39. Frontignac, 12·79
40. Cote Rotie, 12·32
41. Gooseberry wine, 11·84
42. Orange wine,—average of six
samples made by a London
Manufacturer, 11·26
43. Tokay, 9·88
44. Elder Wine, 9·87
45. Cider, highest average, 9·87
Ditto, lowest average, 5·21
46. Perry, average of four
samples, 7·26
47. Mead, 7·32
48. Ale (Burton), 8·88
Ditto (Edinburgh), 6·20
Ditto (Dorchester), 5·56
Average, 6·87
49. Brown Stout, 6·80
50. London Porter, average, 4·20
51. London Small Beer, average, 1·28
52. Brandy, 53·39
53. Rum, 53·68
54. Gin, 51·60
55. Scotch Whisky, 54·32
56. Irish ditto, 53·90
FOOTNOTES
[1] In making this observation, I have only in view the countries north
of the equator; for as we proceed to the south of that line, the vice
increases precisely in the same manner as in the opposite direction. To
use the words of Montesquieu; “Go from the equator to our pole, and you
will find drunkenness increasing together with the degree of latitude. Go
from the same equator to the opposite pole, and you will find drunkenness
travelling south, as on this side it travels towards the north.”
[2] Good’s Study of Medicine, vol. i., p. 113; Second Edition.
[3] The quantity of wine raised in France alone is almost incredible.
The vineyards in that country are said to occupy five millions of acres,
or a twenty-sixth part of the whole territory. Paris alone consumes more
than three times the quantity of wine consumed in the British Isles. It
is true that much of the wine drunk in the French capital is of a weak
quality, being used as a substitute for small beer. But after every
allowance is made, enough remains to show clearly, if other proofs were
wanting, how much the use of wine here is restricted by our exorbitant
duties. It would be well for the morals of this country if the people
abandoned the use of ardent spirits, and were enabled to resort to such
wines as the French are in the habit of drinking.
[4] See Accum’s Treatise on the adulteration of Food; Child on Brewing
Porter; and Shannon on Brewing and Distillation.
[5] See Appendix.
[6] Liqueurs often contain narcotic principles; therefore their use is
doubly improper.
[7] Thackrah on the Effects of the Principal Arts, Trades, and
Professions, p. 83.
[8] Botanic Garden.
[9] Rede’s Memoir of the Right Hon. George Canning.
[10] The old gentleman who is represented as speaking, in Bunbury’s
admirable caricature of the “Long Story,” furnishes one of the best
illustrations I have ever seen of this variety. It is worth consulting,
both on account of the story-teller, and the effect his tedious garrulity
produces upon the company.
[11] Alcohol appears to exist in wines, in a very peculiar state of
combination. In the Appendix, I have availed myself of Dr. Paris’s
valuable remarks on this subject.
[12] There is reason to believe that the Sack of Shakspeare was
Sherry.—“_Falstaff_. You rogue! here’s _lime_ in this Sack too. There is
nothing but roguery to be found in villanous man. Yet a coward is worse
than a cup of Sack with lime in it.”—Lime, it is well known, is added to
the grapes in the manufacture of Sherry. This not only gives the wine
what is called its dry quality, but probably acts by neutralizing a
portion of the malic or tartaric acid.
[13] “It is recorded of a Welsh squire, William Lewis, who died in 1793,
that he drank _eight gallons_ of ale _per diem_, and weighed forty
stones.”—_Wadd’s Comments on Corpulency._
[14] “The law of Mahomet, which prohibits the drinking of wine,
is a law fitted to the climate of Arabia; and, indeed, before
Mahomet’s time, water was the common drink of the Arabs. The law
which forbade the Carthagenians to drink wine, was also a law of the
climate.”—_Montesquieu_, Book xiv., Chap. x.
[15] The following description, by a modern traveller, of a scene
witnessed by him in the East, gives a lively picture of the effects of
this drug:—
“There is a decoction of the head and seeds of the poppy, which they
call Coquenar, for the sale of which there are taverns in every quarter
of the town, similar to our coffee-houses. It is extremely amusing to
visit these houses, and to observe carefully those who resort there for
the purpose of drinking it, both before they have taken the dose, before
it begins to operate, and while it is operating. On entering the tavern,
they are dejected and languishing: soon after they have taken two or
three cups of this beverage, they are peevish, and as it were, enraged;
every thing displeases them. They find fault with every thing, and
quarrel with one another, but in the course of its operation they make it
up again;—and, each one giving himself up to his predominant passion, the
lover speaks sweet things to his idol—another, half asleep, laughs in his
sleeve—a third talks big and blusters—a fourth tells ridiculous stories.
In a word, a person would believe himself to be really in a mad-house.
A kind of lethargy and stupidity succeed to this disorderly gaiety; but
the Persians, far from treating it as it deserves, call it an ecstasy,
and maintain that there is something exquisite and heavenly in this
state.”—_Chardin._
[16] Equal to nearly three thousand drops of laudanum.
[17] “Tobacco,” King James farther observes, “is the lively image and
pattern of hell, for it hath, by allusion, in it all the parts and vices
of the world, whereby hell may be gained; to wit, first, it is a smoke;
so are all the vanities of this world. Secondly, it delighteth them that
take it; so do all the pleasures of the world delight the men of the
world. Thirdly, it maketh men _drunken_ and light in the head; so do
all the vanities of the world, men are drunken therewith. Fourthly, he
that taketh tobacco cannot leave it; it doth bewitch him; even so the
pleasures of the world make men loath to leave them; they are, for the
most part, enchanted with them. And, farther, besides all this, it is
like hell in the very substance of it, for it is a stinking loathsome
thing, and so is hell.” And, moreover, his majesty declares, that “were
he to invite the devil to a dinner, he should have three dishes; first,
a pig; second, a poll of ling and mustard; and, third, a pipe of tobacco
for digestion.”
[18] It appears from Mr. Brodie’s experiments, that the essential oil
of tobacco operates very differently from the infusion. The former acts
instantly on the heart, suspending its action, even while the animal
continues to inspire, and destroying life by producing syncope. The
latter appears to operate solely on the brain, leaving the circulation
unaffected.
[19] The doses in these experiments, were from five to seven quarts.
[20] Journal Générale de Médicine, lix. xxiv. p. 224.
[21] Gazette de Santé, 11 Thermidor, an xv. p. 508.
[22] Von Hammer’s Hist. of the Assassins.
[23] Toxicologie Générale.
[24] The following are the grounds on which he supports his doctrine:—“1.
In experiments where animals have been killed by the injection of
spirits into the stomach, I have found this organ to bear the marks of
great inflammation, but never any preternatural appearances whatever
in the brain. 2. The effects of spirits taken into the stomach, in the
last experiment, were so instantaneous, that it appears impossible that
absorption should have taken place before they were produced. 3. A person
who is intoxicated frequently becomes suddenly sober after vomiting. 4.
In the experiments which I have just related, I mixed tincture of rhubarb
with the spirits, knowing, from the experiments of Mr. Home and Mr.
William Brande, that this (_rhubarb_) when absorbed into the circulation,
was readily separated from the blood by the kidneys, and that very small
quantities might be detected in the urine by the addition of potash; but
though I never failed to find urine in the bladder, I never detected
rhubarb in it.”—_Phil. Trans. of the Roy. Soc. of Lond._ 1811. Part I.,
p. 178.
[25] Essay on Drunkenness.
[26] Zoonomia.
[27] In speaking of the treatment, it is necessary to guard against
confounding other affections with drunkenness:—“There is a species
of delirium that often attends the accession of _typhus fever_,
from contagion, that I have known to be mistaken for ebriety. Among
seamen and soldiers, whose habits of intoxication are common, it will
sometimes require nice discernment to decide; for the vacant stare in
the countenance, the look of idiotism, incoherent speech, faltering
voice, and tottering walk, are so alike in both cases, that the naval
and military surgeon ought at all times to be very cautious how he gives
up a man to punishment, under these suspicious appearances. Nay, the
circumstance of his having come from a tavern, with even the effluvium of
liquor about him, are signs not always to be trusted; for these haunts of
seamen and soldiers are often the sources of infection.”—_Trotter._
[28] “They have a custom of fostering a liver complaint in their geese,
which encourages its growth to the enormous weight of some _pounds_; and
this diseased viscus is considered a great delicacy.”—_Matthew’s Diary of
an Invalid._
[29] Vide Appendix No. I.
[30] The Portland Powder consisted of equal parts of the roots of round
birthwort and gentian, of the leaves of germander and ground pine, and
of the tops of the lesser centaury, all dried. Drs. Cullen, Darwin, and
Murray of Göttingen, with many other eminent physicians, bear testimony
to the pernicious effects of this compound.
[31] “_Falstaff._ Thou art our admiral: thou bearest the lanthorn in the
poop; but ’tis in the _nose_ of thee: thou art the knight of the burning
lamp.
“_Bardolph._ Why, Sir John, my face does you no harm.
“_Falstaff._ No, I’ll be sworn! I make as good use of it as many a man
doth of a death’s head or a _memento mori_. I never see thy face but I
think of hell-fire.”—“When thou rann’st up Gads-hill in the night to
catch my horse, if I did not think thou hadst been an _ignis fatuus_, or
a ball of wildfire, there’s no purchase in money. O! thou art a perpetual
triumph—an everlasting bonfire light: thou hast saved me a thousand marks
in links and torches, walking with me in the night betwixt tavern and
tavern; but the Sack thou hast drunk me would have bought me lights as
good cheap, at the dearest chandler’s in Europe. I have maintained that
salamander of yours with fire any time this two and thirty years—heaven
reward me for it!”
[32] This circumstance has not escaped the observation of
Shakspeare—“_Chief Justice._ Do you set down your name in the scroll
of youth, that are written down old, with all the characters of age?
Have you not a moist eye, a dry hand, a yellow cheek, a white beard, a
_decreasing_ leg, an increasing belly? Is not your voice broken, your
wind short, your chin double, your wit single, and every part about you
blasted with antiquity; and will you yet call yourself young? Fie, fie,
fie, Sir John!”
[33] “Let nobody tell me that there are numbers who, though they live
most irregularly, attain, in health and spirits, those remote periods of
life attained by the most sober; for this argument being grounded on a
case full of uncertainty and hazard, and which, besides, so seldom occurs
as to look more like a miracle than the work of nature, men should not
suffer themselves to be thereby persuaded to live irregularly, nature
having been too liberal to those who did so without suffering by it; a
favour which very few have any right to expect.”—_Carnaro on Health._
[34] “The workmen in provision stores have large allowances of whisky
bound to them in their engagements. These are served out to them daily
_by their employers_, for the purpose of urging them, by excitement,
to extraordinary exertion. And what is the effect of this murderous
system? The men are ruined, scarcely one of them being capable of work
beyond fifty years of age, though none but the most able-bodied men can
enter such employment.”—_Beecher’s Sermons on Intemperance, with an
Introductory Essay by John Edgar._ This is an excellent little work,
which I cordially recommend to the perusal of the reader.
[35] It has been considered unnecessary to enter into any detail of
the nature and treatment of the foregoing diseases, because they may
originate from many other causes besides drunkenness; and when they do
arise from this source, they acquire no peculiarity of character. Their
treatment is also precisely the same as in ordinary cases—it being always
understood, that the bad habit which brought them on must be abandoned
before any good can result from medicine. The disease, however, which
follows is different, and requires particular consideration.
[36] “At a period when criminals were condemned to expiate their crimes
in the flames, it is well known what a large quantity of combustible
materials was required for burning their bodies. A baker’s boy named
Renaud being several years ago condemned to be burned at Caen, two large
cartloads of fagots were required to consume the body; and at the end of
more than ten hours some remains were still visible. In this country, the
extreme incombustibility of the human body was exemplified in the case
of Mrs. King, who, having been murdered by a foreigner, was afterwards
burned by him; but in the execution of this plan he was engaged for
several weeks, and, after all, did not succeed in its completion.”—_Paris
and Fonblanque’s Medical Jurisprudence._
[37] Beck on Medical Jurisprudence.
[38] Ibid.
[39] Collinson on Lunacy.
“The laws against intoxication are enforced with great rigour in Sweden.
Whoever is seen drunk, is fined, for the first offence, three dollars;
for the second, six; for the third and fourth, a still larger sum, and
is also deprived of the right of voting at elections, and of being
appointed a representative. He is, besides, publicly exposed in the
parish church on the following Sunday. If the same individual is found
committing the same offence a fifth time, he is shut up in a house of
correction, and condemned to six months’ hard labour; and if he is again
guilty, of a twelvemonth’s punishment of a similar description. If the
offence has been committed in public, such as at a fair, an auction,
&c., the fine is doubled; and if the offender has made his appearance in
a church, the punishment is still more severe. Whoever is convicted of
having induced another to intoxicate himself, is fined three dollars,
which sum is doubled if the person is a minor. An ecclesiastic who falls
into this offence loses his benefice: if it is a layman who occupies
any considerable post, his functions are suspended, and perhaps he is
dismissed. Drunkenness is never admitted as an excuse for any crime; and
whoever dies when drunk is buried ignominiously, and deprived of the
prayers of the church. It is forbidden to give, and more explicitly to
sell, any spirituous liquors to students, workmen, servants, apprentices,
and private soldiers. Whoever is observed drunk in the streets, or making
a noise in a tavern, is sure to be taken to prison and detained till
sober, without, however, being on that account exempted from the fines.
Half of these fines goes to the informers, (who are generally police
officers,) the other half to the poor. If the delinquent has no money, he
is kept in prison until some one pays for him, or until he has worked out
his enlargement. Twice a-year these ordinances are read aloud from the
pulpit by the clergy; and every tavern-keeper is bound, under the penalty
of a heavy fine, to have a copy of them hung up in the principal rooms of
his house.”—_Schubert’s Travels in Sweden._
[40] View of the Elementary Principles of Education.
[41] American Journal of the Medical Sciences, No. IV.
[42] See Transylvania Journal of Medicine and the Associate Sciences, for
July, August, and September, 1832.
[43] “In warm countries, the aqueous part of the blood loses itself
greatly by perspiration; it must therefore be supplied by a like liquid.
Water is there of admirable use; strong liquors would coagulate the
globules of blood that remain after the transuding of the aqueous
humour.”—_Montesquieu_, Book xiv. Chap. x.
[44] Tropical Diseases.
[45] Glasgow Medical Journal, No. XV.
[46] Glasgow Medical Journal, No. XV.
[47] The following account of Temperance Societies is by Professor Edgar,
one of their most enthusiastic advocates:—
“Temperance Societies direct their chief exertions against the use of
distilled spirits, conceiving them to be the great bane of the community;
but they do not exclude these to introduce other intoxicating liquors
in their room. Their object is to disabuse the public mind respecting
the erroneous opinions and evil practices which produce and perpetuate
intemperance; and though they do not hold it to be sinful to drink
wine, yet they are cheerfully willing to accord with the sentiment of
inspiration—‘It is good neither to drink wine nor any thing whereby thy
brother stumbleth, or is offended, or is made weak.’ Were the wine spoken
of in Scripture alone used in these countries, they do not believe that
there would be a necessity for Temperance Societies; yet even from such
wine, so different from that commonly in use, the Scriptures gave them
the fullest liberty to refrain. Avoiding, however, all appearance of
rigorous abstinence, they leave to every man’s judgment and conscience,
how far he shall feel himself warranted in the use of fermented liquors,
and only insist, as their fundamental principle, on an abstinence from
distilled spirits, and a discountenancing of the causes and practices
of intemperance. Their regulations respect persons in health alone;
with the prescriptions of physicians they do not interfere. Even the
moderate use of distilled spirits they consider to be injurious; and
they call upon their brethren, for their own sake, to renounce it. The
great mass of excellences attributed to intoxicating liquors, they
believe to be fictitious; and though all the virtues attributed to them
were real, they are cheerfully willing to sacrifice them, while they
have the remotest hope of thus cutting off even one of the sources of
drunkenness, or arresting one friend or neighbour on the road to ruin.
They do not look on the use of intoxicating liquors as necessary either
to their health or happiness; they do not love them, and therefore,
they do not wish to represent an abstinence from them as, on their
part, a great sacrifice; and they trust that they only require to be
convinced that the good of their brother demands it, to induce them to
do much more than they have yet done. They know that the only prospect
of reformation for the intemperate is immediate and complete abstinence,
and they joyfully contribute their influence and example to save him.
They know that the present customs and practices of the temperate, are
now preparing a generation for occupying the room of those who shall soon
sleep in drunkards’ graves, and it is their earnest wish to exercise
such a redeeming influence on the public mind, that, should the present
race of drunkards refuse to be saved, there may be none to fill their
place when they are no more. The abstinence of the temperate, they are
convinced, will accomplish this, and that abstinence it is their business
to promote by those means with which the God of truth has furnished them.
They believe that such abstinence, instead of being productive of any
injury to the community will greatly benefit it; and already there are
the fairest prospects of the great objects of such voluntary abstinence
being effected, by associations sustaining one another in new habits,
to make them reputable and common. They require no oaths, no vows;
their bond of obligation is a sense of duty, and subscription to their
fundamental principle, is merely an expression of present conviction
and determination. The law of Temperance Societies, like the Gospel, is
the law of liberty—the law which binds to do that which is considered
a delight and a privilege. They look forward to the time as not far
distant, when the temperate having withdrawn their support from the trade
in ardent spirits, it shall be deserted by all respectable men, and shall
gradually die away, as premature death thins the ranks of drunkards: they
trust that the falsehoods by which temperate men have been cheated into
the ordinary use of ardent spirits, will soon be completely exposed;
and that full information and proper feeling being extended, respecting
the nature and effects of intoxicating liquors, they will occupy their
proper place, and the unnumbered blessings of temperance on individuals
and families, and the whole community, will universally prevail. Not only
will Temperance Societies cut off the resources of drunkenness, but to
the reformed drunkard, they will open a refuge from the tyranny of evil
customs, and they will support and encourage him in his new habits. To
promote these invaluable objects, they call for the united efforts of all
temperate men; they earnestly solicit the assistance of physicians, of
clergymen, of the conductors of public journals, of all men possessing
authority and influence; and by every thing sacred and good, they beseech
drunkards to turn from the wickedness of their ways and live.”
[48] The origin of the term “grog” is curious. Before the time of Admiral
Vernon, rum was given in its raw state to the seamen; but he ordered it
to be diluted, previous to delivery, with a certain quantity of water.
So incensed were the tars at this watering of their favourite liquor,
that they nicknamed the Admiral _Old Grog_, in allusion to a grogram coat
which he was in the habit of wearing: hence the name.
[49] Catharine I. of Russia was intemperately addicted to the use of
Tokay. She died of dropsy, which complaint was probably brought on by
such indulgence.
[50] Practical Observations on the Convulsions of Infants.
[51] “At day-break,” says Captain Bligh, “I served to every person a
tea-spoonful of rum, our limbs being so much cramped that we could
scarcely move them.”
“Being unusually wet and cold, I served to the people a tea-spoonful of
rum each, to enable them to bear with their distressing situation.”
“Our situation was miserable: always wet, and suffering extreme cold in
the night, without the least shelter from the weather. The little rum
we had was of the _greatest service_; when our nights were particularly
distressing, I generally served a tea-spoonful or two to each person, and
it was always joyful tidings when they heard of my intention.”—_Family
Library_, vol. xxv. _Mutiny of the Bounty_.
INDEX.
Abbas the Great, his edict, 200
Alcohol the intoxicating principle of all liquors, 61
its action differs from that of opium, 106
Alexander the Great died of drunkenness, 22
Amurath IV. made smoking a capital offence, 81
Ardent Spirits, drunkenness modified by, 61
varieties of, 26, 63
Armstrong, Dr., his remarks on the disease of the brain, 141
Arrack a spirituous liquor long known in the East, 20
Balfour, Mr. Alexander, case communicated by, 214
Bangue possesses intoxicating properties, 98
Bardolph, his nose, 144
Barrow, Mr., his remarks on tobacco, 83
Beckon Medical Jurisprudence, extracts from, 194, 195
Beecher, Dr., his Sermons on Intemperance, 156, 255
Beer known to the Egyptians, 19
in the interior of Africa, 19
Belladonna, 100
Bitters often dangerous remedies, 139
Bladder, state of, 142
Bligh, Captain, his privations, 247
Blood and breath, state of, 142
Bonosus, hanged himself in a fit of despair, 23
Brain, state of, 140
Brande, Mr., his Table, 260
Brandy, 20, 26, 63
Brodie, Mr., his experiments on tobacco, 83
opinion regarding the absorption of Alcohol, 108
Broomley, Mr., his remedy for drunkenness, 123
Bunbury, his caricature of the “Long Story,” 57
Caldwell, Dr., on the cure of drunkenness, 218
Camphor possesses intoxicating properties, 103
Carbonic acid possesses intoxicating properties, 104
Cardinal Santa Crocé introduced tobacco into Italy, 80
Carnaro, extract from, 155
Catherine de Medicis the inventor of Snuff, 80
Catherine I. addicted to the use of tokay, 239
Chardin, extract from his Travels, 75
Chewing, 88
Children, effects of liquors on, 150, 243
Claret, the most wholesome of wines, 239
Clery, 104
Clutterbuck, Dr., his opinion of delirium tremens, 166
Cocculus Indicus, 99
Coffee useful in poisoning from opium, 129
Coke, Sir Edward, his judicial opinion, 190
Cold, effects of intense, 105
Coleridge, Mr., his case, 93
Collinson on Lunacy, extract from, 195
Combustion, spontaneous, 175
Commercial travellers addicted to intemperance, 31
Congee the drink of the natives of India, 220
Corpulency, 152
Darnel, 104
Darwin, Dr., averse to blooding in drunkenness, 121
his account of _psora ebriorum_, 146
opposes the sudden discontinuance of liquors, 198
Delirium tremens, 159
Demosthenes used cold water as a stimulus, 34
Desgenettes, observation by, 221
Digitalis, 99
Don Gio Maria Bertholi, case of, 181
Double vision, cause of, 114
Dreams, 171
Drunkard, choleric, 57
melancholy, 54
nervous, 57
periodical, 58
phlegmatic, 55
sanguineous, 52
surly, 55
Drunkards, sleep of, 170
spontaneous combustion of, 175
advice to inveterate, 236
Drunkenness, causes of, 28
modified by temperament, 52
modified by the inebriating agent, 61
physiology of, 111
method of curing the fit of, 120
pathology of, 132
judicially considered, 190
method of curing the habit of, 197
Dupuy, M., experiment by, 123
Ears, ringing in the, cause of, 116
Eason, Rebecca, inquest on her body, 79
Edgar, Professor, his account of Temperance Societies, 233
anecdote by, 253
Edgeworth, Mr., his case, 93
Eldon, Lord, case cited by, 195
Elevation of spirits, cause of, 116
Emaciation, 151
English regiment, anecdote of, 125
Epilepsy, 150
Ethers possess intoxicating properties, 104
Eyes, state of, 143
Flushing, cause of, 116
Fontenelle used coffee as a stimulus, 34
Gin, 25, 63
Good, Dr. Mason, a believer in spontaneous combustion, 186
Gordon, Duchess of, used opium, 72
Gout, 147
Grace Pitt, case of, 180
Grog, origin of the term, 238
Hair, state of, 146
Hales, Judge, his remarks on drunkenness, 167
rejects the plea of drunkenness, 191
Haller used cold water as a stimulus, 34
Hammer, Von, extract from his history of the Assassins, 101
Hannibal’s army ruined by intemperance, 22
Heart, palpitation of, 149
Heat and flushing, cause of, 116
Hemlock, 98
Hernandez de Toledo introduced tobacco into Europe, 80
Hibiscus Saldarissa, 27
Hislop, Sir Thomas, fact stated by, 220
Hobbes used tobacco as a stimulus, 34
Hop, 99
Hunter, Dr., experiments by, 243
Hyoscyamus, 101
Hysteria, 149
Inflammations, 147
Innocent, Pope, renewed Pope Urban’s bull, 81
James I., his “Counterblaste to Tobacco,” 82
Johnson, Dr., used tea as a stimulus, 34
Kain, Dr., recommends tartar emetic for the cure of habitual
drunkenness, 216
Kaimes, Lord, fact related by, 71
Kidneys, state of, 141
Kinglake, Dr., his case, 95
Kinninmouth, Patrick, tried for blasphemy and adultery, 193
Langsberg, Matthew, his saying, 23
Leopard’s-bane, 98
Lewis, William, a great ale drinker, 69
Liquors, method of curing drunkenness from, 120
cannot always be suddenly discontinued with safety, 198
not always hurtful, 246
Liver, state of, 133
M’Donough, William, tried for murder, 194
Mackenzie, Sir George, says that the plea of drunkenness is never
received in extenuation of crime, 191
Madame Millet, case of, 184
Madness, 157
Mahomet forbade wine to his followers, 20
Malt liquors, drunkenness modified by, 66
Mary Clues, case of, 177
Masurer, M., discovered the virtues of acetate of ammonia in
drunkenness, 122
Mead the favourite drink of the Saxons, 19
Melancholy, 156
Mithridates, his body powerfully resisted poisons, 78
Montesquieu, quotations from, 16, 70, 221
Mosley, Dr., his observations on the effect of drinking cold water in
the tropics, 222
Nepenthes, 27
Nervii refused to drink wine, 22
Newton used tobacco as a stimulus, 34
Nightmare, 172
Nitrous oxide, 131
drunkenness modified by, 89
North, Dr., his remarks on convulsions of children, 242
Nurses and children, effects of intoxicating agents on, 241
Odoherty, Morgan, his advice to drunkards, 240
Old age, premature, 154
Opium, drunkenness modified by, 70
used by the late Duchess of Gordon, 72
its action differs from that of alcohol, 106
method of curing drunkenness from, 126
Opium-Eater, English, his “Confessions,” 70, 76
Orfila, M., his experiments, 106, 129
Palm wine, 103
Paris and Fonblanque, extract from their Medical Jurisprudence, 176
Paris, Dr., excerpt from his Pharmacologia, 257
Peganum Harmala, 27
Perspiration, state of, 143
Pitcairn, Dr., and the highland chieftain, 213
Plugging, 88
Porter, 26, 67
Portland powder, 140
Psora ebriorum, 146
Punch, 237
Quakers, longevity of, 151, 155
Raleigh, Sir Walter, introduced tobacco into England, 81
Rollo, Dr., fact stated by, 220
Rum, 26, 63
Ryan, Dr., his opinion of delirium tremens, 166
Sack of Shakspeare supposed to have been sherry, 66
Saffron, 104
Schubert, extract from his Travels in Sweden, 195
Shakspeare, extracts from, 144, 153
Sinclair, Sir John, his remark on ale, 252
Skin, state of, 145
Sleep of Drunkards, 170
Sleep-walking, 17
Sleep-talking, 173
Smith, Dr. Gordon, a believer in spontaneous combustion, 187
Smoking, 86
Snuffing, 84
Spartans held ebriety in abhorrence, 22
Spirits, their adulteration, 24
their varieties, 25, 63
Spurzheim’s opinion of the sudden discontinuance of liquors, 198
Staggering and stammering, causes of, 115
Stanhope, Lord, his remarks on Snuffing, 84
Sterility, 150
Stomach, state of, 136
Tartar Emetic, use of, 216
Temperament, drunkenness modified by, 52
Temperance Societies, 223
Thackrah, his remarks on the intemperate habits of commercial
travellers, 32
Tobacco, drunkenness modified by, 80
Tobacco, method of curing drunkenness from, 129
Toddy, 237
Tremors, 148
Trotter, Dr., averse to blooding in drunkenness, 121
his advice called in question, 198
Typhus fever, delirium of, sometimes mistaken for drunkenness, 126
Ulcers, 156
Urban VIII. excommunicated snuffers, 81
Vertigo, cause of, 112
Vinegar, its properties, 125, 128
Voltaire used coffee as a stimulus, 34
Walcheren fever, effects of spirits and smoking on, 225
Whisky, 26, 63
Wines, their adulteration, 24
drunkenness modified by, 65
Wolf’s-bane, 99
THE END.
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Embellished with Plates, and illustrated with Maps of the Western Coast,
including the Hebride islands.
THE SCOTTISH TOURIST’S STEAM-BOAT POCKET GUIDE.
Being an account of all that is worthy of the Stranger’s notice in the
Western Highlands and Islands of Scotland.
This volume, when accompanied by the above, its Travelling Guide to the
Picturesque, will be sufficient to lead the Stranger to all that is
worthy of being seen in Scotland!!
X.
Price 1s. 6d. sewed, 2s. bound.
THE POCKET GUIDE TO COMMERCIAL BOOKKEEPING.
THE PRACTICAL ENGINEER’S POCKET GUIDE.
THE YOUNG HOUSEWIFE’S POCKET GUIDE.
XI.
The Scottish Worthies.
BIOGRAPHIA SCOTICANA; a Brief Historical Account of the most eminent
SCOTS WORTHIES, Noblemen, Gentlemen, Ministers, and others, who
Testified or Suffered for the Cause of the Reformation in Scotland, from
the beginning of the Sixteenth Century to the Year 1688; originally
collected by HOWIE of Lochgoin; now Revised, Corrected, and Enlarged, by
a Clergyman of the Church of Scotland, and enriched with a Preface and
Notes, by WM. M’GAVIN, Esq., Author of the “Protestant,” &c.
In Two large Volumes 8vo. Price 24s. Boards.
Volume I. contains Memoirs of the Lives of the Worthies. Volume II.
contains the “Last Words and Dying Testimonies,” “Cloud of Witnesses,”
“Naphtali,” &c. &c.—To those who are already in possession of the first
volume of this work, the second will be found an indispensable requisite,
as without it the book is incomplete, and is deficient in by far the
most important and interesting portion of the Biography of the Scottish
Reformers.
“This is by far the best edition of this remarkable work that has
ever seen the light. He is not worthy the name of a Scot, who can be
indifferent to the story of these immortal champions.”—_Evangelical
Magazine._
“We hail with pleasure this new and greatly improved edition. The
external appearance is very creditable to the Publisher, and we have no
doubt his well-meant zeal in publishing an improved edition of a work
that must ever be dear to pious minds, will meet with the encouragement
which it unquestionably deserves.”—_Edinburgh Christian Instructor._
XII.
A Brief History of the Protestant Reformation.
New Edition, with Corrections and Additions, in One Volume, Price 4s.
boards.
In a Series of Letters addressed to WILLIAM COBBETT, in consequence of
the Misrepresentation and Aspersions contained in his “History of the
Protestant Reformation in Britain and Ireland.” By WM. M’GAVIN, Esq.,
Author of “The Protestant.”
“Those who wish to see Mr. Cobbett more than matched, should possess
themselves of this valuable publication. It is not saying too much of Mr.
M’Gavin to assert that he is one of the most enlightened Protestants in
Christendom. The whole controversy stands before his mind in the order of
perfect arrangement, and Mr. Cobbett appears like a child in the hands of
a giant. Posterity will gratefully acknowledge its obligations to this
incomparable advocate.”—_Evangelical Magazine._
XIII.
The Glasgow Mechanics’ Magazine.
New Edition, Revised and Corrected, of the First Series, complete in Five
Volumes 8vo., price £2.
From the great sale which this work continued to have, long after the
completion of the Series, the proprietors were induced to have the whole
of it revised throughout from the commencement. In doing this, the plan
they adopted was to exclude any article which appeared of less value to
the scientific inquirer, and such as were more of a temporary interest.
They are happy to say this has met with the approbation of the public, by
a sale _unprecedented in the annals of periodical literature_. The work
should, in fact, be now viewed more in the light of
“A STANDARD BODY OF PRACTICAL SCIENCE,”
which it in reality is, than in that of “a Magazine” of the times, the
utility of which, in most cases, lasts but for a day. The most eminent
scientific men have contributed to these volumes, and numerous have
been the laudatory notices from all quarters, that have appeared of
it. Amongst numerous others which might be adduced, they may mention,
that the celebrated Dr. Gregory, in his Mathematics for Practical Men,
quotes numerous articles from it, and refers his readers to “_that useful
publication_.” Lord Brougham characterises the work as having been
“_carried on with great spirit_;” and he farther adds, that he found it
“_remarkably full of useful information_,” no small recommendation from
an authority so high. The _Leeds Mercury_, under the management of Mr.
Baines, M.P., among a host of other Journals which reviewed this work, in
noticing it, remarked, “It appears to be conducted by a set of practical
men, who understand well what they are about, and who are well calculated
to execute the task they have undertaken.”
XIV.
Natural History.
Just Published, price 2s.
THE YOUTH’S BOOK OF NATURAL HISTORY,
Adapted to the use of English Schools, Infant Schools, and Nurseries,
containing a Lithographic Sketch of every Animal in the relative
proportion that one stands in point of size to another.
XV.
In Foolscap 8vo., price 5s.
The Book of Aphorisms;
By a MODERN PYTHAGOREAN.
“The Book of Aphorisms is certainly the most amusing of all Mr. M’Nish’s
books.”—_Kilmarnock Journal._
“There is no subject, however various, upon which we have not an aphorism
strictly original.”—_Caledonian Mercury._
XVI.
Now complete, Vols. I. and II., price 7s. each, bound in cloth,
The Church of Scotland Magazine.
The Publisher of this Work begs to call the attention of the Friends of
the Institutions of the Country, both in Scotland and England, to the
contents of the Volumes now completed. He has no hesitation in expressing
his perfect confidence, that, on the great leading question of the
day, so essentially affecting the Religious and Civil welfare of the
Empire—viz., the question of
CHURCH ESTABLISHMENTS.
They will find an extent and variety of information not to be equalled in
_any work_ of the same compass in the English language.
It has received, and continues to receive, the contributions and support
of the most eminent and talented Clergy of the Church of Scotland, and of
the sound and well-affected portion of the Seceding Ministers, as well as
the right-minded Laity in the Church and among Dissenters. It originated
at a period of the most violent hostility to the settled institutions
both of Church and State. It entered on the defence with the boldness,
decision, and energy of truth, and continues to be carried on with a
nerve and vigour worthy of the noble cause in which it is embarked.
THE FRIENDS OF THE CONNEXION OF CHURCH AND STATE will find in it every
variety of argument drawn from Scripture and reason—from history and
experience—from the nature of man, and the necessities of human society,
in proof of the duty and expediency of maintaining that connexion. They
will obtain ample and minute statistical information on all the great
facts of the question, both as relating to the Church and Dissenters
in Scotland—the revenues and numbers of the Church and Dissenters in
England—the past and present state of the Church in Ireland—its property
and numbers—and the present condition of Popery and Presbyterianism in
that country. The numerous able papers of the Rev. Mr. Lorimer which
it contains on the state of the question, in America, it is confessed,
on all hands, are _unequalled and unanswerable_. The able series of
papers by Captain Gordon have been generally admired; while the not less
talented and vigorous contributions from the pen of the Editor have
called forth universal commendation, extending even to those hostile to
the cause.
The Publisher again repeats his unhesitating conviction, that, in no
other work of the same compass, will the Churchman find so complete an
armour for the sound defence of Church Establishments.
“Two volumes are now completed, by looking at the index of which it will
be at once seen that every one wishing well to Church Establishments
_ought to be in possession of the work_.”—_Aberdeen Advertiser._
XVII.
Twelfth Edition, Price One Shilling,
A Catechism of Phrenology,
Illustrative of the Principles of that Science. By a Member of the
Phrenological Society of Edinburgh.
“Since the publication of the first edition of this Catechism, in 1831,
the science of Phrenology has taken an astonishing hold upon the public
mind. This is attributable, no doubt, chiefly to the intrinsic value of
the science itself; but it is also partly owing to the means that have
been adopted to render the science known to the mass of society. This
Catechism, from its comprehensiveness, admitted accuracy, cheapness
and portability, has been in no slight degree conducive to this end.
Both Author and Publisher have reason to be proud of the success of the
book. Within the last six years 12,000 copies have been sold; and the
_increasing sale_ of the work not only indicate the high estimation
in which it is held, but also the ardent longing of the public for
phrenological knowledge. In this edition the Author and Publisher have
made some alterations and additions, both in the getting up and matter
of the book, which they hope will render it still more worthy of public
patronage.”—_Preface to the Twelfth Edition._
“The utility of this manual is unquestionable, for whatever progress
the science it is intended to illustrate may be making, it is evident
that, its study should not be entirely omitted even in the most general
education. The arrangement of the work is admirable. The utmost
perspicuity prevails in every page. The public may be assured of its high
claims to their attention, from the facility with which the principles of
the science are unfolded before them; from the philosophic tone in which
the subject is treated, and from the unassuming, modest manner in which
its appeals are made.”—_Alexander’s East India Magazine._
XVIII.
One Volume 8vo., price 2s. 6d. bound in cloth,
Church Establishments Defended,
Being a Review of the Speeches delivered in Dr. Beattie’s Chapel, by the
leading men of the Voluntary Church Association,
By the Rev. J. G. LORIMER, of St. David’s Church, Glasgow.
“For a more particular refutation,” says Dr. Patrick M’Farlane, in a note
to his speech, “of the argument of the Voluntaries from America, let the
reader peruse that _unanswerable_ work, entitled ‘a Defence.’”
XIX.
Treatise on Baptism.
A Practical Treatise on the Spiritual Import of Baptism, and the Duties
connected with the Observance of the Ordinance. By the Rev. JOHN THOMSON,
Minister of Shettleston.
“This is a work which will, and ought to make its way, where many
more ponderous and learned treatises on the subject will be refused
admittance. The truths regarding the nature and practical bearing of the
ordinance of baptism are correctly and clearly stated; and the duties
binding both upon parents and children, in connexion with the solemn
ordinances, are enforced in some instances with a natural eloquence which
cannot fail to reach the heart, because every reader will feel that the
sentiments come from the heart.”—_Presbyterian Review._
Price 1s. 6d. in boards.
XX.
The SIXTH EDITION, in Foolscap 8vo. Price 6s. boards, of
The Anatomy of Drunkenness;
By ROBERT MACNISH, Member of the Faculty of Physicians and Surgeons of
Glasgow.
CONTENTS:—Chap. 1. Preliminary Observations. 2. Causes of Drunkenness.
3. Phenomena of Drunkenness. 4. Drunkenness modified by Temperament.
5. Drunkenness modified by the inebriating agent. 6. Enumeration of
the less common intoxicating agents. 7. Differences in the Action of
Opium and Alcohol. 8. Physiology of Drunkenness. 9. Method of Curing
the Fit of Drunkenness. 10. Pathology of Drunkenness. 11. Sleep of
Drunkards. 12. Spontaneous Combustion of Drunkards. 13. Drunkenness
Judicially considered. 14. Method of Curing the Habit of Drunkenness. 15.
Temperance Societies. 16. Advice to Inveterate Drunkards. 17. Effects
of Intoxicating Agents on Nurses and Children. 18. Liquors not always
hurtful.
“We are happy to announce a fifth edition of this most useful and
intelligent work. The author, Mr. Robert Macnish, has done more service
to the cause of sobriety, by describing in this book the lamentable
results of immoderate indulgence in intoxicating fluids, than all
the Temperance Societies in England. In fact, if Mr. Buckingham and
his fellow-twaddlers of the celebrated drunken committee, instead of
recommending absurd and impracticable legal enactments for the prevention
of drunkenness, had prevailed on parliament to grant a sum of money for
the dissemination of Macnish’s ‘Anatomy,’ they would have taken the most
effectual means to check an evil which is really of a sad and devastating
character. We remember once hearing a worthy gentleman advise an unhappy
infidel to read Bishop Watson’s reply to Tom Paine’s Age of Reason,
remarking, ‘if you study that book, Sir, you cannot be an unbeliever.’
Without seeking to weaken the force of the good Christian’s injunction,
_we_ say to all who are in danger of contracting the truly horrible habit
of intoxication, read Macnish on Drunkenness.”—_London Weekly Despatch._
XXI.
M’Phun’s Catechisms of Useful Knowledge.
Seventh Edition, price Sixpence, sewed; One Shilling, bound in Red
Leather, Gilt Edges,
No. I. MISCELLANEOUS ELEMENTARY KNOWLEDGE.
“This little Catechism contains a very great quantity of information
upon subjects of which nobody ought to be ignorant, and arranged in such
a manner that it may be taught with advantage to, and learned with ease
by, children at a very early period. The simpler questions are left
without any answer, so that the children may exercise their own ingenuity
in solving them. This we think a decided improvement. We are glad also
to see so considerable a portion of it devoted to an account of the
Books of Scripture, and to an explanation of some of the most important
words which frequently occur in them. We are quite sure that this will
be found extremely useful ‘in fixing the outline of Scripture History
in the youthful mind, and in exciting the desire of a more extensive
acquaintance with the Inspired Records.’ While we can very strongly
recommend this Catechism to schools for the use of children, we may add,
that there are many who are children no longer who might read it over
with no small advantage.”—_Edinburgh Christian Instructor._
XXII.
Price Sixpence,
No. II. THE SHORTER CATECHISM,
With NOTES; CATECHISMS for CHILDREN, by ISAAC WATTS, D. D.; and a
Collection of HYMNS, by various Authors.
XXIII.
FOR THE USE OF ITALIAN STUDENTS.
Second Edition, price 2s. 6d.
Economy of Human Life—in Italian.
L’ECONOMIA DELLA VITA UMANA DI DODSLEY.
Tradotta Da B. Aloisi.
“This is one of those useful initiatory works which tend to facilitate so
much the progress of the Student, while it renders his path smoother and
more easy. We recommend it to the attention of both master and scholar.
The private student will, in particular, derive benefit from its perusal.
We know of no book better fitted to put into the hands of those willing
to learn Italian than this is.”—_Edinburgh Literary Gazette._
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