It may smile in the rosy face of youth, but do not be
deceived; there are agonies unspeakable hidden beneath that smile. Look not
on the wine cup when it is red, no matter if the jeweled hand of a princess
hold it between you and the light. It is the beginning whose end is
degradation, remorse, misery and death! Turn from a glass of beer as from a
goblet of reeking and poisoned blood. It is a danger to be shunned. Beware
that you do not learn this too late.
Alcohol, ruin, and death go hand in hand. The region over which Alcohol is
king is one of decay. It is full of graves. The ghosts of the million joys,
he has slain wail amid its ghastly desolations; there are sounds of sobbing
orphans there; echoes of widows' shrieks; and the lamentations of fond
mothers and wives, heart-broken, vex the realm; youth and age lie here
dishonored together; in vain the sweetheart begs her lover to return from
its fatal mists; in vain the pure sister calls with trembling tongue for
her erring brother. He will not come back. He is the slave of a tyrant who
has no compassion and knows no mercy. Oppose this tyrant, all ye who love
the home circle better than the bawdy house; fight him all ye who set honor
above dishonor; curse him all ye who prefer peace to discord, and law to
anarchy; war against him in all ways unceasingly all ye to whom the thought
of liberty and safety is dear, to whom happiness and truth are more
desirable than misery and falsehood.
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