" 'Stop, I need your help!'
It was in Detroit, Michigan, several years ago.
It was early evening and I was about to walk into the building where I was holding revival meetings. A man walked up to me and said, 'Are you Mr. Finney?'
" 'Yes,' I replied.
"'Please, when you get through tonight, —will you come home with me. I need to talk to you. ' " 'All right, I will. You wait for me. ' I walked inside—and some of the men stopped me.
" 'What does the man want?"
" He wants me to go home with him after the meeting tonight. "
" 'Don't do it. He's known to be dangerous. '
" I’m sorry, but I promised and I shall go with him.'
"When the service was over that evening, I went with the man three blocks down the street and then into an alley, and stopped. The man unlocked the door and said', 'Come in.' Walking into the room, I found the man locking the door behind me, and then reaching into his pocket he pulled out a revolver and held it in his hand.
" 'I don't intend to do you any harm,' he said. 'I just want to ask you a few questions. Did you mean what you said in your sermon last night?'
" 'What did I say? I have forgotten. '
" 'You said, 'The blood of Jesus Christ cleanses us from all sin.'
" 'Yes, God says so. '
"Then he said to me, 'You see this revolver? It has killed four people. It is mine. Two of them were killed by me, two of them by my bartender in a brawl in my saloon. Is there hope for a man like me?'
" 'Yes. The blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth us from all sin. Christ can forgive you and help you obey the Commandments of God. '
"Then the man said, 'Brother Finney, another question. In the back of this partition is a saloon. I own it, everything in it. We'll sell every kind of liquor to anybody who comes along. Many times I have taken the last penny out of a man's pocket, letting his wife and children go hungry. Many times women have brought their babies here and pled with me not to sell any more booze to their husbands, but I have driven them out and kept on with the whiskey selling. Is there hope for a man like me?'
" 'God says, "The blood of Jesus Christ His Son, cleanseth us from all sin." [1 John 1:7].
" 'Another question, brother Finney. In back of this other partition is a gambling joint and it is as crooked as sin and Satan. There isn't a decent wheel in the whole place. It is all loaded and crooked. A man leaves the saloon with some money left in his pocket, and we take his money away from him in our gambling hall. Men have gone out of that gambling den to commit suicide when their money, and perhaps entrusted funds, were all gone. Is there any hope for a man like me?'
" 'God says, "The blood of Jesus Christ, His Son, cleanseth us from all sin.'
" 'One more question, and I will let you go. When you walk out of this alley you turn to the right and you'll see a brown-stone house. It is my home. I own it. My wife is there, and my eleven-year old child, Margaret. Thirteen years ago I went to New York on business. I met a beautiful girl. I lied to her. I told her I was a stockbroker, and she married me. " 'I brought her here, and when she found out my business it broke her heart. I have made life a hell on earth for her. I have come home drunk, beaten her, locked her out, made her life more miserable than that of any brute beast. About a month ago I went home one night drunk, mean, miserable. My wife got in the way some how, and I started beating her. My daughter threw herself between us. I slapped that girl across the face and knocked her against a red-hot stove. Her arm is burned from shoulder to wrist. It will never look like anything decent. Brother Finney, is there hope for a man like me?'
"I took hold of the man's shoulders, shook him, and said, 'Oh, son, what a black story you have to tell! But God says, 'The blood of Jesus Christ, His Son, cleanseth us from all sin!'
"The man saw it. He looked at me a long moment and then said, 'Thank you, Brother Finney. Thank you very much. Now I know. Pray for me. I am coming to church tomorrow night. And I am going to do some changing.'
"I left that back room and went home. The next morning, about seven o'clock, the saloon man finally got finished with his business at his office and leaving it headed across the street to his home. His necktie was awry. His face was dusty, sweaty, and tearstained. He was shaking as though he were drunk.
"But let's go back to that room. That night he had taken the swivel chair in the office and smashed the mirror, the fireplace, the desk and the other chairs. He had smashed the partition on each side. Every bottle and barrel and bar mirror in that saloon was shattered and broken up. The sawdust was swimming ankle deep in a terrible mixture of beer, gin, whiskey, and wine. The stench that rose from that rotten mess was terrific. In the gambling establishment on the other side the tables were smashed. The dice and cards smoldered in the fireplace.
"And then he had cried for hours there alone on his knees with God.
"And so with it all over, he staggered across the street as the sun arose, walked up the stairs of his home, and sat down heavily in the chair of his room. His wife called the little girl, 'Maggie, run upstairs and tell daddy breakfast is ready.' The girl walked slowly up the stairs. Half afraid, she stood in the door and said, 'Daddy, Mamma said breakfast was ready; to come down.'
" 'Maggie, darling, daddy doesn't want any breakfast. ' "That little girl didn't walk; she just flew down those stairs. 'Mamma, daddy said, "Maggie, darling, and he didn't—.' "Maggie, you didn't understand. You go back upstairs and tell daddy to come down.' Maggie went back upstairs with the mother following her. The man looked up as he heard the child's step, spread his knees and said, 'Maggie, come here.'
"Shyly, frightened, in a tremble, the little girl walked slowly up to him. He began crying as he lifted her up, placed her on his knee, pressed his face against her chest and wept. The wife, standing in the door, didn't know what had happened. After awhile he noticed her standing there and said, 'Wife, come here.'
"He sat her on his other knee, threw his large arms around those two whom he loved, whom he had so fearfully abused, lowered his face between them, and sobbed until the room almost shook with the impact of his feelings.
"After some minutes be began to control himself, looked up into the faces of his wife and girl, and said to them:
" 'Wife and daughter,—you needn't ever be afraid of me any more. God has brought you a new man, a new daddy home today.'
"That same night that man, his wife, and child, walked down the aisle of the church, gave their hearts to Christ and joined the church. He spent the remainder of his life trying to help other people. Many were the young people that he warned to flee from liquor and cigarettes and gambling—for he well knew the terrible hole that they would bring a man into." —Charles G. Finney.
"I was at the top of my career. It happened in 1940. That was the year I won the 'most valuable player in American baseball' award. I was getting a salary of $40,000.00 a year at the time. But I started to drink heavily. I began arguing with my manager, Joe McCarthy, and with the rest of the players. Then things began to happen.
"I spent the winter in taprooms. When spring training rolled around I was 20 pounds overweight. (Don't let them tell you that liquor takes off the pounds—it adds them.) I couldn't stop drinking. I couldn't hit. That year most experts figured I'd break Babe Ruth's record. But I ended up hitting only 13 home runs.
"I was suspended before the season was over. I drank more than ever. I got booted from one minor league club to another. I worked at odd jobs. Spent all of my money, most of it in bar rooms. Finally I got sick. While I was recuperating in that hospital, I had a lot of time to think.
"There are kids in and out of baseball who imagine that because they have talent they have the world by the tail. It isn't so. In life you need things like good advice and common sense. Don't be so big that you can't accept advice. And if you've gotten into liquor, be willing to let someone tell you how to get out. "
—Hank Wilson, in the Chicago Daily News.
"I tried to drink with extreme moderation, because I knew that alcohol is the worst poison a man can take into his system,—but I found out that it was an impossibility to drink moderately.
"The fact that I indulged at all compelled me to drink on every occasion it was offered, or be considered absurd by my associates.
"For that reason, because moderate drinking is an absolute impossibility, I became an absolute teetotaler—a crank, if you please. I will not allow it in my house.
"When a man can say, 'I never drink,' he never has to drink, is never urged to drink, never offends by not drinking. —Just tell them, 'I never drink. '
"The fact is that the hard drinker was once a moderate drinker, and the chances are all against the moderate drinker remaining such. —And I,—well, I, for one, don't propose to take such a chance." —General Frederick D. Grant, son of President U.S. Grant.
"Here is why I will never drink: 1. God never made a human being who in a normal state needs alcohol. 2. God never made a human being strong enough to begin the use of alcohol and be sure that he would not become its victim. 3. God never fixed a day in a human life after which it is safe to begin the use of intoxicating liquors."
— William Jennings Bryan.
"Entering the office of a well-known businessman in New York City, I found a placard nailed to a desk. Surprised at this, I read it:
WHICH?
Wife or Whisky The Babes or the Bottles HEAVEN OR HELL "Seeing what I was reading, the businessman, quite successful in his work, explained: " 'I wrote that myself. Sometime back I found myself falling into the habit of drinking. It was just an occasional glass with a friend. Soon my stomach got bad, my faculties became dulled, and a constant craving for stimulants dominated me. I saw tears in my wife's eyes and wonder on the faces of my children. One day I sat down and wrote that card and then looked at it. And the more I looked at it, the awful message that it contained burst on me. So I nailed it there and read it several times each day. I went home sober that night, and have not touched a drop ever since.
" 'It was all a matter of what was most important in my life. Once I had settled that in my mind, all the rest fell into place. And my decision was made. " —John Dyer.
"A fatal accident, involving the lives of four young people, took place upon one of the nation's highways. The evidence that liquor was the culprit was found in the broken whisky bottles among the debris and mangled bodies of the four youthful victims. The father of one of the girls in frenzied anguish over the tragic death of his beautiful daughter threatened to kill the one who had provided the four young people with liquor. That evening he went to the shelf in his bedroom where he kept his own supply of choice beverages, and there found a note written in his daughter's handwriting, 'Dad, we're taking along some of your good liquor—I know you won't mind.' That was the last thing she had ever written. " —James Kingman.
"One of the finest things that could have happened to the brewing industry was the insistence by high-ranking Army officers to make beer available at Army camps. . Here is a chance for brewers to cultivate a taste for beer in millions of young men who will eventually constitute the largest beer-consuming section of our population. " — The Brewer s Digest.
"A worker who was fond of beer told his wife and child one morning of a dream he had had. He had seen four rats. The first was large, fat, and sleek; two were very, very thin; and the last was blind. Neither he nor his wife could find any explanation for the dream, but they were uneasy, having heard that rats brought bad luck.
"The little boy, however, had an idea.
" 'The big fat one, Daddy, was the tavern keeper on the comer who gets all your money. The two thin rats are mother and me. And you are the blind one.' " —From a French newspaper article, Montreal, Canada.
"Babe Ruth was offered a good sum of money if he would permit a photographer to take his picture with a bottle of beer in his hand, for a national advertising campaign.
"The Babe said quietly: 'No, I have autographed too many baseballs for boys who have trusted in me. I will do nothing to help advertise the sale of beer—by my actions or my picture. Those boys see me as a hero, and I'll not do anything to lessen their esteem of me.' " —Bob Appleton, in the Los Angeles Times.
"I am against alcohol: —Because I have known unborn babes to be cursed through booze; little children to starve because of booze; young people to be stunted for life through booze; gifted women to become imbeciles through booze; leaders in industry to become beggars in the street because of booze; wedding rings to be sold for booze; fortunes to be squandered for booze; girls to become prostitutes through booze; boys to become criminals through booze; women to be hanged because of booze; men to go to the electric chair because of booze!" —Catherine Booth.
"To put alcohol in the human system is like putting sand in the bearings of an engine. " —Thomas A. Edison.
"Some one has said that alcohol will remove stains from summer clothes. This may be true, but stains from summer clothes are not the only things alcohol will remove.
"Alcohol will remove the stain all right, but it will remove the summer clothes as well. And it will remove the spring clothes and the autumn clothes and winter clothes.
"Alcohol will not only do this for the man who drinks it, but it will also do it for all those for whom he is responsible.
"Alcohol will remove good food from the dinner table, and shoes from the baby's feet.
"It will remove happiness from the home, and then remove the possibility of its ever returning.
"It will remove smiles from the faces of those you love, and laughter from the lips of your innocent children, and warm clothing from their backs.
"Yes, alcohol is a great remover! It can remove more things than most anything else.
"—And while there is still time, just now, remove it from your life. You'll always be thankful that you did. "
" 'Dear Ann,
" 'I'm sixteen, and have made up my mind not to drink, but people make it very hard for me to refuse. . They keep on insisting and pressing, and some get scornful and angry if I say, "I'm sorry, I'd rather have an orangeade." What's the best way to refuse?
" '(Signed) -M.'”
"Dear -M: No need to say, 'I'm sorry.' You invite them to persuade you if you sound apologetic. All that is necessary is a 'Thank you; I only take soft drinks. Hit the knack of being proud and glad and grateful for being able to hold on to your standards. I know you can do it. Stick to it."
—Ann Temple, in her newspaper feature, "Human Case Book, " in the London Daily Mail.
"Frederick Charrington was the young heir of Charrington, Head and Co., the large international London-based brewery.
"One day on the street, he saw a woman with her little girl go into a bar and plead with her husband for some money. The children were crying for bread. His reply was to knock her and the child down. Looking up, Charrington saw his name, "Charrington," emblazoned in gold on the barroom door. 'I can't stay with liquor!' he said, and gave up a million and a quarter dollars brewery inheritance." —Aberdeen Express.
"A traveler in Scotland found in a fisherman's home a striking picture of the Saviour.
" 'How did you obtain possession of this picture?' he asked the man who lived there. All about him he saw signs of a happy home, and he was surprised at the first words he heard in reply.
" 'I was a great drinker and spent a lot of time in the pubs. One night I was way down with the drink and stumbled into a pub. —And there hung His picture! It made me sober in an instant.
"I said to the bartender: 'Sell me that picture; this is no place for the Saviour.' I gave him all the money I had in my pocket and took it home. I dropped on my knees and cried, '0 Lord Jesus, pick me up again! Pick me up again out of my sin!'
" 'That prayer was answered and today I am the happiest man in the village.'
" 'But didn't you have a struggle to give it up?'
" 'When the heart is open to the Saviour, He can take out of it the love of drink. It is crying to Christ and clinging to Christ that makes all the difference.' " — Chappel Clovis