Our Inebriates, Harbored and Helped

I AWAKE to the music of the rising bell, on which an Ethiopian minstrel, naturally corked, is ringing cheerful changes in the halls; and my first conscious sensation is a pleasant one as, turning over for a fresh thrill, and applauding my pillow with a sensuous pat, I cast a complacent glance and thought around my room. Not bad for an “ Inebriate Asylum,”— for a refuge and a rest to the wretch which hath seven devils, each more thirsty than the other, — for a hiding and safe thinking place to him who hath called, in his distraction and dismay, on the mountains to fall on him, and the rocks to cover him up!

An appropriate apartment, not spacious, but snug ; not so large but that a faithful hope, when it comes to look for a lost man, may find him in it ; not so small but that a compact friend may be entertained here without that familiarity of knees and boots that breeds contempt; a chamber sensible to neatness, — that sort of " short horse ” of a lodging which is “ soon curried.” Walls lofty and sky-colored ; door and double window tall and dignified, — the latter provided with liberal panes and inside latticed shutters ; wood-work of oak and dark cherry, handsomely moulded and panelled ; a portly oaken wardrobe, with double doors and drawers, and a certain imposing aspect, conveying the impression of “ presence ” ; a hospitable carpet in warm colors ; " all the modern improvements ” for ablution, represented by a marble tank and silver-plated turn-cock ; a double register for hot air and ventilation ; pendent gas-fixtures, in good style, with globes and side-light; two tables, with cloth covers, in bright patterns of crimson and black, for periodicals, papers, and writing materials ; a rather wide bedstead, of bronzed iron, in the English style, and on rollers ; a lazy rockingchair, and two office chairs in black walnut, — one with, the other without, arms ; a looking-glass, not “ palatial,” but enough, and neatly framed ; two wall brackets, at present surmounted by an opera-glass, three “ blue-andgold ” volumes of verse, and a memory and a hope in the pictured loveliness of a girl; on the wall large photographs of Winterhalter’s “ Florinde,” Rosa Bonheur’s " Horse Fair,” Mazerolle’s " Anacréon,” a Venus and Cupid, with doves, of Correggio ; the “ Campanile at Florence ” in water-colors, a rack full of cartes de visite and steel vignettes, and the foot and ankle in plaster of Palmer’s “ White Captive,” a gift from the sculptor. One side of my wardrobe has been transformed into a bookcase, and lodges two hundred and fifty choice volumes of Poetry, Essays, Biography, and Travel. Of course, these books and pictures are my own ; like many of my comrades here, I have studied, by such means, to impart a home-like aspect to my lodging. But in all other respects the appointments of my room are in the uniform style of the house, and I enjoy no favors not granted to my fellows.

So much for my interior. Without, my window, looking westward toward Binghamton, affords me a land-andwater-scape, where I can all the pleasures prove

with

Nor does the picturesque Yankee village in the distance, nor even the cloudy pillar of the westward-roaring engine, whereby the Lord leadeth his people about through the way of the wilderness, impair the romantic charm of the scene. The piping of old Kit Marlow can be heard above all the puffing of new Jim Fisk.

With the final clang of the rising bell, the halls are awake and astir. There is leaping from beds, and much splashing of water ; and the operation of toileting is performed not without various musical accompaniment, vocal, sibilant, and instrumental. Voici le Sabre de Mon Père is delivered with martial ardor by Number 10; Number 7, inspired by convivial souvenirs, whistles “ Champagne Charlie,” with expression, while “ Mary had a Little Lamb,” with variations, is pensivelyexecuted on a comb by Number 21. There are likewise imitations, versatile and judicious, of the voices of the animal kingdom : the quaint iteration of the cuckoo proceeds from Number 9; the voice of the turtle is heard in the land of Number 6 ; a profane parrot draws corks and objurgatory comparisons in Number 11 ; and an orphaned calf bewails the untimely butchering of its maternal beef in Number 14. Such the sportive relaxations of minds equal to nobler contemplations, and ready to rise with the occasion to sublimer utterances !

Again the tintinnabulary Ethiopian : eight o'clock, and away to breakfast! A spacious hall serves us for a refectory. abundantly lighted from rows of tall windows on two sides, and at present accommodating ninety-six guests, in messes of twelve, at eight tables symmetrically disposed on each side of the room ; to each table, a neat-handed Phyllis, more or less expert in the catching of eyes and the shifting of platters ; of course separate tables for the superintendent, his family, and friends, but not separate fare ; they sit down with us, and fare as we do ; for though we do not boast all the delicacies of the season, our catering is supposed to be substantial, abundant, and various enough ; we are not alarmed though a board of trustees take us by surprise, or a legislative committee burst upon us “ unbeknownst.”

Ninety-six — what? Criminals ?There are Pharisees who would so dispose of us. Lunatics ? Other fools, of a milder type, prefer that denomination. But, for all that, ninety-six gentlemen : in morals, as the world goes ; in wits and manners, above the average ; all of us decent, many refined ; none of us fools, not a few highly intellectual ; an illiterate man a painful rarity among us ; a polished scholar — pleasant, but not a phenomenon ; a queer club of sympathetic good-fellows, having one fiery dragon to fight, and fighting that cheerfully here together, with our ninetysix hearts and heads and stomachs; while humbly beseeching all Pharisees and other fools, who don't pay their money, to take their choice (“ Criminal,” or “ Lunatic,” or both at once) — only to stop addling their virtuous brains about us, and to let us have peace for a season. For just now breakfast is waiting, and, having asked a blessing, like felons, we proceed to discuss it, with cheerful, rational chat between, like madmen ; that over, another depraved performance, — prayers in chapel, — and the mad business of the day begins : some to the billiardtables, some to the bowling-alleys, others to the more muscular certamina of the gymnasium ; while a few, older or less vigorous, more studious, or more pensive, or more lazy, betake themselves to the quiet solacements of library or reading-room. This is the usual distribution of those who keep in-doors ; but, unless the weather be positively forbidding, there is always a considerable company who ramble over the hills, or, by carriage or the railroad, to Binghamton. For it must be borne in mind that the corner-stone of the theory upon which this experiment rests is confidence,—the largest liberty reconcilable with the safety of the subject.

At eleven o’clock, and again at six, a mail-bag arrives from the post-office in town, and there is a distribution of letters and papers. These are ever the two exciting episodes of our daily being ; for to them belongs the weighting or the lightening of hearts ; I have seen at least one poor life, that had hung upon them forlornly, suddenly let go its hold. At the same time come the great newspapers, with their freight of stirring matter.

At one we dine, and at six we sup,— quite substantially still: for our appetites are such as belong to lusty stomachs, cocktailed by gay, hopeful tempers. And these our prattling reunions in the refectory are our occasions of most genial companionship, breaking, as they do, the monotony of a routine which, diversify it as we may, is yet not without its irksomeness to frames so vigorous and spirits so restless. They constitute to us, likewise, a sort of dress parade in which we are careful to make a handsome appearance ; for it is here that we are oftenest cheered by the presence of the fair. After dinner, to our pipes (which are free), and to our naps, which might be wholesomely reformed. But as at the table we meet as ninety-six cheerful gentlemen, pleasantly familiar, might sit down together in a genteel hotel, so, in our rooms and everywhere, we are much given to taking our ease in our inn ; for are we not here for rest most of all, — rest from the racket of our own excitements, and all the wearisome wear of our alternate recklessnesses and remorses ? God knows we were tired enough when we came !

Our evenings are — according to the day. For Mondays we have provided readings, in the chapel, from the poets, the dramatists, the novelists ; and onr readers are whoever can and will read.

On Wednesday evenings. Dr. Day talks to us about Temperance, with all the plainness and good-humor, and much of the drollness, of the familiar “ Dutch Uncle.” Pithy performances these, — neither scientific nor rhetorical, but of the very mother-soil of the subject, awfully sound, and to the point, — at times with a directness so drolly excruciating as to make the squirming hearer feel as though he were a full bottle of “ S. T.— 1860 — X,” and the spiral horror of an analyzer’s corkscrew, with its cold, critical intelligence, were slowly but surely grinding into his head.

Thursday night of each week is devoted to a “ dramatic reception,” to which ladies and gentlemen of Binghamton are invited by complimentarycards. We have a compact and pretty little theatre, well equipped, the sceneryvery cleverly painted by one of ourselves, — an artist of no mean powers for a gentleman amateur, —and the furniture in as good taste as the abundant stores of the house can afford; for orchestra, a piano, occasionally supported by a violin. An amateur company of fair talent and the most accommodating versatility has been mustered from the full roll of the house, whosoever can do a funny or a fearful thing being eagerly invited to come forthwith and do it; and if the purpose and the effect do now and then get transposed, that very circumstance but serves to impart to the performance somewhat of the desired “professional ” illusion. We have done “ Macbeth,” the “ Lady of Lyons,” “ Still Water Runs Deep,” and a variety of roaring farces, in a style quite above the professional Crummleses of a country town. Of course all our “ women ” are afflicted with a congenital masculine disorder; but for all that, our Lady Macbeth and Mrs. Sternhold may be contemplated with tolerance even by those who have applauded Charlotte Cushman or Mrs. Conway. Our Macbeth is surely truer to Shakespeare and nature than Mr. McKean Buchanan’s very original Thane ; and I have seen Claudes and Hawksleys on Broadway that we can beat without a rehearsal. These “ dramatic receptions ” are our pet vanity ; they often draw “ select ” audiences from the town, making our bachelor halls bright with the presence of pretty women ; and their moral influence in our household is notably good.

We at all times abound in good music. Our pianos and melodeons discourse much harmony, grave and gay, under the deft fingers of inebriates ; and the ever-amiable young daughter of the superintendent lends, at any call, her rich and well-trained voice.

Tuesday and Saturday are club nights — meetings of the Ollapod Club, so called : a literary and social organization, founded on the 18th of November last, and of quick growth in intellectual and moral force. We number at this present writing sixty members elected by ballot; and our terms as to qualification are studiously liberal, the object being to invite to the advantages and wholesome influences of the association every man in the asylum who has not rendered himself ineligible by notoriously vicious practices, or by such coarseness of manners and habits as brand him as socially intolerable. On the roll of the Ollapod Club may be found the names of men who, in their respective walks of life, have adorned and taught superior communities. Here are divines, physicians, lawyers, writers, artists, teachers, merchants, and more than one scholar honorably known by his attainments in the exact sciences or criticism. In this connection, however, I would remark that the sedentary professions send to the Asylum a much smaller proportion of the whole number of confirmed inebriates than may be supposed. Of the three hundred and ten patients received here between the 1st of January and the 31st of December, 1868, whilst ninety-three were clerks, eighty-two merchants, sixteen farmers, fifteen lawyers, nine brokers and bankers, and twentyeight “ independent gentlemen ” of no occupation, there were but three clergymen, two physicians, two authors, two teachers, one artist, and two professional musicians; it is noticeable, also, that of the three hundred and ten, but five were printers, and not one an actor. Here is matter for speculation, — a fact to reconcile with a theory ; but this paper is to be a practical statement, and I turn from the temptation.

A few of the titles of papers read before the club may serve to indicate the drift of thought and taste. It will be observed that there is a preference for the satirical handling of social absurdities. “ The Hindoo Girl of the Period”; “Meteoric Phenomena, and Theories concerning them " ; “Curiosities of Music”; “Opera Bouffe and Ballet ” ; “ The Sensational Drama ” ; “The Hub and the Tire” (Boston and Chicago); “The Social Aspects of Shoddy ” ; “ The Gentleman and the Gentlewoman” ; “ Pantomime, Burlesque, and Puppets ” ; “ The Art of Conversation“ In Search of a Subject"; “Wit and Humor, English and American”; “Arctic Exploration and Adventure ” ; “ Amarapoora, the City of the Immortals ” ; “ A Review of the Life of the Duke of Alva ” ; “ My Farm in Flanders’ ; “Madame Récamier and Madame Tallien ” ; “ George Frederick Cooke, Actor and Drunkard”; Debate: “The Oath in Courts of Justice,— should it be abolished ? ”

The proceedings of this club are conducted with exemplary decorum, the discussion of religious or political questions being strictly tabooed. At the close of the literary exercises, it resolves itself into a free, social circle, when the members gather about the small round tables, reading, chatting, or engaged in games of chess, whist, euchre, and cribbage. The monthly “receptions,” to which an appreciative public is invited, are polite reunions of the most pleasant character. The constitution and by-laws have been printed for the use of the members, and the moral as well as intellectual influence of the association, in our peculiar community, where so much is left to the honor of the individual, may be measured by the spirit and tone of these four “standing resolutions ” : —

“ I. Resolved, That it is the expressed spirit and sentiment of this club, that each and every member of it, so long as he shall continue to be an inmate of this Asylum, is expected to observe scrupulous caution not to offend or bring disrepute upon our fellowship by presenting himself at any time or place under the influence of liquor.

“ II. Resolved, That the above resolution is accepted by each and every one of us as an earnest expression of the opinion and feeling of the club, without other form of pledge or bond.

“III. Resolved, That whosoever, being a member of this club, and an inmate of the Asylum, shall present himself, at any time or place, in the condition indicated, shall be expected to offer to the club, in writing, a becoming apology ; the same to be read by the secretary at the next regular meeting thereafter, if called for by the club.

“ IV. Resolved, That nothing in the foregoing resolutions, expressed or implied, shall be construed as impairing the sympathy and fellowship with which it is the wish and purpose of this club to approach any member so unfortunate or faulty. But that, on the contrary, we do hold ourselves bound, collectively and individually, to extend to him all necessary protection and aid, with prompt and cheerful goodwill.

“ Adopted by acclamation, March 12, 1869.”

From time to time an erratic member has strayed beyond the affection and protection of these wholesome rules, and on every such occasion the frank and genuine confession with which his apology has been offered has been only equalled by the cordial and sympathetic applause with which it has been accepted. For once in a while some weaker vessel, for all the sateguards that can be set about him, gets broken against his own hard thoughts or the underlying temptations of the town ; and for such there are locked and lonesome “cages,” sacred to reflection, remorse, and bromide of potassium. It is a phase of this mystery of. iniquity, defying solution, that whilst, of the eighty or ninety probationers, there are never more than fifteen who habitually offend or fail in this particular, among these fifteen the shock of one man’s fall is transmitted through all, with the instantaneousness of an electric circuit. Strangest of all, this phenomenon of sympathetic excitement displays a character of periodicity, so clearly defined as to suggest the possibility of lunar influence. “About this time,” as the old almanacs have it, “ expect madness.”

“ We have reason to congratulate ourselves I quote from the Superintendent’s Report for 1868] that the situation of the Asylum is such as to render it a fair exponent of those sympathetic and humanizing ideas, the soundness and practicability of which it was erected to prove, — the theory which claims for the inebriate a recoverable judgment, sensible affections, and moral responsibility ; and which, refusing any longer to coerce him as a criminal or confine him as a lunatic, proposes by positive aid and comfort, and confiding appeals to his reason, his affections, and his aspirations, to restore him to himself, his family, and society.

“To prove this we have to show, first, that he voluntarily surrenders himself, for a period more or less protracted, according to the indications of his condition and the history of his case, to an isolation which we study to render agreeable, and a restraint the mildest he will allow us to impose; and, secondly, that he can be trusted, — his temptations, of course, being jealously checked.

“ Thus we have in the location of the Asylum the natural argument in favor of our views, and the natural means to demonstrate them ; for, being remote from police limits and “rounds,” we are not required to provide a mere convenient harbor and cell for the chance arrests of a night ; and on the other hand, being within easy distance of a brisk, attractive town, without bars or walls or guards between him and its allurements, the inebriate, strengthened but guarded, at large but watched, has a chance, at proper seasons, to prove his courage and his honor. We have our penalties for infractions of rules and breaches of faith ; but he also has his, in his own heart and conscience ; and of the two influences, the latter, the less formal, is the more potent.

“Hence, a quality of genuineness, with every advantage of position and circumstance to test the truth of the conclusions upon which our grave experiment is founded, is afforded in the first place by our topographical conditions alone, and confirmed afterwards by the social and moral consent of the patient. . . . .

“ If, on the other hand, it be argued, as against the extreme mildness of our restraints, — the large privilege of going and coming, which it is in our theory to allow to all the members of our peculiar community, — that it is liable to flagrant abuse, and that every instance of broken faith and dishonorable infraction of rules — as in the case of men who are allowed to visit Binghamton on their parole — is a positive reflection upon the character of the Institution and a damage to the faith and hopes of its friends, I reply that these are the very exceptions that prove the rule ; that to no circumstance so confidently as to this can we point for confirmation and support of our law of kindness and trust; for of the eightytwo men now in the Asylum there are certainly not more than ten who habitually practise deception, or otherwise break faith with us in this matter; and even with many of these we find no method of discipline so wholesome and effectual as brief confinement, patient forbearance, and rational appeals to their reviving sense of honor.”

The Club Rooms — a handsome expression of the appreciation and interest of the Vice President and Superintendent of Construction, Hon. Ausburn Birdsall, whose sagacity and energy are a power to the Institution — constitute an attractive feature of the house. They are substantially and appropriately furnished, and the walls, tastefully frescoed, are adorned with fine steel engravings, photographs, and chromos, presented by thoughtful friends of the institution, — the collection comprising many portraits of English and American men of letters. There is pressing need of a well-chosen library, of not less than a thousand volumes ; and if any happy reader of the “ Atlantic,” moved by a spirit of benevolent emulation, would be flattered by the sense of a good gift judiciously bestowed, let him or her send to the secretary of the Ollapod Club a box or parcel — no matter how light, the weight will be in the gracious obligation—of “books which are books.”

Our Inebriates at Binghamton — Respectability’s bad bargains — present in their social and political systems an example of a pure democracy, — quintessential Americanism, asserting itself in that freedom of opinion to which there is no limit but generosity, and of expression upon which no restriction is imposed save by courtesy and decorum. It is a favorite phrase of the house, that we are all “tarred with the same stick,” and by that same token we stick together. We have our popular and our unpopular men, and by the status of these or those you may gauge the dominant sentiment of the community. Whosoever is companionable, genial, sympathetic, co-operative, of us and with us and for us, he is the man for the votes of our understandings and our hearts, whosoever is self-seeking, sulky, captions, pharisaical, aloof from us, shy of us, ashamed of us, scornfully looking down from the cold heights of his moral “green-seal” upon the cheap and humble contamination of our unaffected “rot-gut,”— a snob among inebriates,—it were better for that man that a temperance lecture were hung about his neck and he were swamped in the Slough of Despord out of which we have just been fished. Especially are we impatient with him who calls his dear old rum by such lying names as “liver,” and “vertigo”; and playing the Joseph Surface among prodigal sons, complains that the “old man did not do the square thing in that little family transaction of the division of goods, and afterwards cruelly denied him Worcestershire Sauce with his husks ; besides, for all the blowing about that fatted calf, he never did like veal.

Fair Play and Inebriates’ Rights,— generosity in judgment, and consideration for the claims of the flesh in its frailty, — these are the law to our minds and the way to our hearts. Our diverse personalities are blended and welded by a common need and longing, and the individual is lost in the partaken trouble. Unlike ship-board life, which shamefully uncovers the naked selfishness of a man, bringing to the surface all his abject Me-ness, this more humanizing experience, conceived in helplessness and brought forth in longing, makes generosity a relict and fellowship a comfort.

And here the thought of sea-board life reminds me that the proportion of travelled men among us is especially noticeable by numbers and influence. It is safe to say that of the whole body of patients,—if it be not an absurd misnomer to term those “ patients ” who are, with rare exceptions, models of cheerful, springy health, — at least one half have traversed their own land from shore to shore, or found their wanton way to the ends of the earth. From these the quality of our social intercourse derives a positive infusion of the cosmopolitan spirit, imparting catholicity of sympathy, freedom of thought, a brave, robust hopefulness, and emancipation from the thraldom of those puerile impulses which promote unwise and extravagant partialities or prejudices. Between the restless, roving, adventure-loving, change-seeking disposition, impatient of restraint, insatiable of excitement, and given over to all the licenses of imagination, and the propensity to stimulate to excess, there seems to be that affinity and connection, psychological and physiological, which may naturally account for the presence in the Asylum of so large a proportion of men who have seen the world and “the elephant.” In this candid little lodge of ours the masks and dominos of character are dropped, and the man, morally naked, regards himself in the clear, true glass of his own confession. Here, once for all, he unfools himself, with nice accuracy taking his own measure and “heft”; and henceforward, to his dying day, he is as one who has recently made his own acquaintance, — introduced to himself by those who quickly get to know him better than the mother who bore him. Humbly he comes down from the stilts of his presumption, modestly he modifies the strut of his obtrusiveness, — a man judiciously and good-humoredly snubbed. His unappreciated qualities are developed : the mystery of hidden good in him is solved; he learns to rate himself 1ower than his own price, higher than the appraisal of his friends. The test of shrewd insight we apply to his temper precipitates the bogus from the true ; and with an almost comical bewilderment he discovers many of his Sunday-school virtues in the former, not a few of his scampish vices in the latter. Unstable hitherto as water, as surely as water he has found his level.

Here is a free school of manners, equal rights, and common sense, where are taught the fair play of the Golden Rule, and the decorous deference of the Hindoo Vedas. Send hither your roughs, rustics, and boys, and we will teach them to keep their knives out of the mouths of their best behavior, and to stand on no toes but their own.

To the end of avoiding that dangerous ground of debate in which “unpleasantnesses ” are apt to grow, politics and all forms of sectarianism are ignored with a unanimity which is always cheerful and sometimes comical. We had an amusing example of the practical effect of this thoughtful blending of prudence and delicacy on the day of the last Presidential election. There were polls, with judges and clerks, who omitted no natural touch of brow-beating or corruption ; there was a ballotbox, indiscriminately stuffed by such a run-mad compost of parties as would have defied the nomenclature of the “ Pewter Mug ” ; there was a stationhouse, with a “patent police,” delightfully brutal and partial; there were free and independent voters, native or naturalized, in the familiar state of ignorance, beer, imbecility, and helplessness ; there were rough sport, and shouts of laughter, and sharp sallies of wit, and boisterous burlesque ; but not one coarse buffet, nor an unkind word, although there were Radicals here dear to the heart of Ben. Butler, and Copperheads lovely in the sight of Brick Pomeroy, Rebels who had raided with Mosby, and Federal scouts who had followed in the hoof-prints of Sheridan’s Ride. Could such a scene of generosity and good sense have been enacted anywhere, on that day, but at an Inebriate Asylum ?

That romantic deference and delicacy of sentiment, with which the natural American, whom untoward circumstances of birth and association have not rendered positively uncouth and morally deformed, never fails to approach every tolerable woman, is developed here, from even the most latent inclination, by the peculiar craving of our minds and hearts, and the rarity of its gratification. The presence of a true lady among us as potently refines our imaginations and elevates our aspirations, as the lovely apparition of the “First Lady” (Mrs. Frank Ward) rebuked and calmed the fierce, turbulent selfishness of San Francisco in 1849. We all know that rum. when it has usurped the kingdom of a mind, reduces it to the slavery of ignoble passions and gross imaginations ; but we also know that the minds and hearts it most easily invades, finding them miserably defenceless, are precisely those which under happier circumstances are most sensitively susceptible to emotions of grace and chivalry. By the hand of every gentle woman who brings her subtile sympathy among us, we reach back toward the hearts of our mothers and sisters and wives. “ Our schedule,” says the Report, “ will show that of the whole number admitted since the 1st of May, 1867, one hundred and forty-six have been married men. The moral advantage, the chance of lifelong abstinence, is decidedly with the married, cœteris paribus, and the marriage being happy; for I need hardly say that there is no more potent, nor comparatively more common provocative to reckless debauchery than an ill-assorted, ' incompatible,’ wrangling marriage : nor any such incentive and inspiration to reform, any such support and cheer in the struggle of self-denial and self-control, any such source of fortitude and hope in the hour of temptation, as the devotion of a forgiving, faithful, patient wife, clinging fast to the wreck that the crew of selfish kindred and friends have abandoned. The women who have followed their husbands to this Asylum, and lingered near at hand, to watch and help and applaud them, are the pride of their own sex. and the prize of ours.”

Emphatically, this clarifying machine is run by the force necessarily liberated from the impure material to be clarified ; nor can the experiment of inebriatereform, by communities associated in institutions such as this, be ever otherwise conducted to a satisfactory conclusion. It is in the very nature of the case, and a logical result of the progress toward success, that the inebriate in these conditions, as he yields to the process of reconstruction, shall become an agent in that process, and a law of reform unto himself and others. Engineer the apparatus as they may, the superintendent and trustees must derive their motive-power from the multiplied and concentred magnetism of the patients. Without this, the mechanism, however complete, must be as insensible and dumb under their hands as a telegraphic key-board without a battery. It is the very merit of their theory of sympathy that this should be so ; and this must be the measure of all the genuine, abiding good they can ever hope to do. To their honor, be it said, they claim no more. If I were asked wherein lies the peculiar healing of this place, I should answer in the profound impressions of its sympathetic intercourse ; for here my trembling trouble is met with unstudied appeals transcending the eloquence of Gough, and confronted with pictures of pain beyond the eager, tearful utterance of Vine Hall. This anxious little world of ours is moved by the moral power of its own public opinion ; and that finds expression in the purpose and character of the Ollapod Club.

It can be honestly claimed for any well-managed Inebriate Asylum that it “reforms ” a man by helping him to reform himself; it presupposes in him a sincere longing and an earnest effort, and it offers him wise moral conditions of patience, encouragement with kindly admonition, trust with well-timed warning, refuge from care and from temptation, cheerful and sympathetic companionship, improving and diverting mental exercise, and all the devices of sagacity and tact which his temper or his trouble demand ; sound physical conditions, also, of rest (for there’s no such tired wretch as your worn-out inebriate), regularity of habit, wholesome and substantial diet, pure air, free motion, animating games, hearty songs, and jolly laughter. And that is all — that is not humbug.

Such are they whom it truly helps, and such the means whereby it helps them. For the incorrigible minority, the puerile, and the stupid, who remain “deaf to the voice of warning, and defiant of the claims of affection,” — the unstable and the stolid, who are yet to be “dead-beat,” — these are they whom the Asylum merely harbors. To the former it is, in very truth, a House of Refuge, rest, and redemption ; to the latter, but a House of Detention and control. In this Institution, which, in all that is external to the personal feelings of the inmate, partakes notably of the freedom of a superior country hotel, we are fortunate in being able to meet on an equal footing of confidence and respectful consideration. But for causes seemingly inseparable from the experimental character of the enterprise, our social status is exceptionally superior ; and it is not to be expected that, when the plan and operation of inebriate reform shall have become popularized, and every State shall have opened its asylums,kindred establishments will be commonly so fortunate. I think it will be found necessary to impart to their discipline a duplicate discretion, and to classify patients, however simply, as to character and privileges.

It is to be hoped that, lest legislative bodies and,philanthropic communities, inspired by the assured success of this Binghamton experiment, should become prematurely engaged in this specialty of benevolent enterprise, the legal status of the inebriate may be clearly defined without loss of time. He is no longer to be coerced as a criminal or confined as a lunatic : once for all, that question has been settled, by those who have the matter most at heart, and have given it the most intelligent and anxious consideration ; it is, in fact, the foundation upon which the whole amiable structure has been erected. Therefore the inebriate has his rights; but they are the rights of an occasional madman, however long and lucid his intervals may be ; and no man knows this better than himself. He knows that, under certain distracting circumstances of provocation or temptation, he may — first or last almost certainly will — become an offence, if not a fear, to himself and others, even when at large on his honorable parole, of which, at wiser times, when seated at the feet of the Gamaliel of his own prudence and duty, he is so tenderly jealous. Then the rude hand of the law, insensible to sentiment and scornful of psychological analyses, will be laid upon him, — a policeman’s coarse paw shall bruise the raw of his fierce sensitiveness. Just there his rights begin, and he naturally turns for them to the Asylum, which, as a mere matter of money not less than of morals, owes him a rescue ; for she is his guardian under bonds, and has accepted in respect of him, for a consideration, certain positive responsibilities and obligations. Whether he can or cannot be trusted beyond bounds, is a question for the discretion of those having him in moral and medical charge,—a nice question, I grant, its safe decision implying the possession of a rare and fine combination of experience with tact; and occasional errors of judgment are inevitable. But it is certain the decision does not rest with him, nor is he responsible for the consequences of a blunder. His Asylum owes it to his friends, as wef as to himself, to stand between him and the police, and to demand that he be restored, the moment his arrest becomes necessary, to the custody of his appointed guardian and physician, the superintendent, whose demand should be a habeas corpus in this matter, — all charges to be paid by the Asylum, and collected from the patient. Just there his rights cease ; he certainly has no right, in reason or feeling, to complain of the preventive punishment he may receive. But if he is not in an Asylum for this very protection, for what, in the name of common sense and business is he there ? A passage from the Report will serve to shew the importance which the superintendent attaches to these considerations.

In this aspect of the subject it is of vital importance that the enterprise should be kept pure, and true to its original intention, by the exclusion, as far as possible, of involuntary patients, or at least of such as are brutally insensible and rebellious. This Asylum, I take it, is designed to appeal confidently to the reason and conscience of a class neither mad nor utterly depraved ; and, from the best of these, to restore to society and the state so much of usefulness and ornament, honest productiveness and intellectual influence, as will repay the Commonwealth tenfold for the cost of the experiment. To introduce, therefore, the element of confinement and coercion is to degrade the Institution from its true character, as a saving and ennobling home of faith and inspiration, into a mere house of correction or a jail.

“ So, also, to receive within our walls the forced commitments of a court or the common seizures of the police is at once to impair, if not destroy, the philosophical value of the experiment, and, what is worse, to embarrass the discipline and lower the moral tone of our probationary household.”

In my paper preliminary to the present, in the April number of this magazine, 1 have entered my weary protest against that sagacious pharisaism of the family, which consigns the poor prodigal heart, that has nothing left but its remnant of imperishable love, to the isolation of a Refuge such as this ; and then, maintaining a savage silence, keeps it for weeks on the red-hot gridiron of a longing suspense, in one protracted nightmare and horror of devilish fancies and fears.” Since that was printed, one poor prodigal heart, — the gentlest, humblest, among us, impatient only with itself,—robbed of its remnant of imperishable love, and given over by that same savage silence to its loneliness and longing and despair, has taken its pitiful tax and trouble in its hand, and fled from the cruel respectability of fastidious Pharisees to the indiscriminate consolations of the Publican’s Christ.

I have elsewhere stated my own case with but slight reserve, because, out of the mystery of this iniquity, one may not with safety speak positively of another’s. I have described myself as a “ congenital periodical ” inebriate, and have endeavored to make it clear to the reader as to myself that my torment was inherited. And yet I am of a family scrupulously abstemious in both sexes for several generations. Here is an apparent contradiction, apt to mislead the common mind, because it overlies a grave fact in our American social system. There is a disease of the nervous organism, almost peculiar to this people, which sprang from seeds of self-indulgence sown in the moral, social, and physical lives of our greatgrandparents, and which has acquired fearful aggravations of extension and virulence with each succeeding generation. It assumes a form painfully familiar to the physician and the moralist, in that craving for intellectual and physical sensation ” which expresses itself, without a blush or a tremor, in the popular performances, displays, and disclosures, of the pulpit and the theatre, literature and art, the press and the criminal courts, the costumes of the women, the prodigality and license of private entertainment, and the graphic eccentricities of popular sports. It does not necessarily take the direction of rum, — it may find relief in the intemperate, passionate pursuit of a vocation or an agitation. Its form of expression may be determined by the bent of the intellectual twig, or an early peep into “openings.” If God, in his mercy, had not suffered me to escape by the stormy Jordan of rum, I might have been a spasmodic editor, a fanatical demagogue, a champion revivalist, a plugugly, a lecturer for the Washingtonian Total Abstinence Society, or a—Fenian martyr.

If you would abolish the inebriate, you must begin with his grandmother.