Page 627 - for-the-term-of-his-natural-life

phire, the warm heaven laughs. Great God! what man could
withstand a temptation like this?
By an effort, I shake off the desire to drink deeper, and
fix my thoughts on my duties, on my books, on the wretch-
ed prisoners. I succeed perhaps for a time; but my blood,
heated by the wine which is at once my poison and my life,
boils in my veins. I drink again, and dream. I feel all the
animal within me stirring. In the day my thoughts wander
to all monstrous imaginings. The most familiar objects sug-
gest to me loathsome thoughts. Obscene and filthy images
surround me. My nature seems changed. By day I feel my-
self a wolf in sheep’s clothing; a man possessed by a devil,
who is ready at any moment to break out and tear him to
pieces. At night I become a satyr. While in this torment I
at once hate and fear myself. One fair face is ever before
me, gleaming through my hot dreams like a flying moon in
the sultry midnight of a tropic storm. I dare not trust my-
self in the presence of those whom I love and respect, lest
my wild thoughts should find vent in wilder words. I lose
my humanity. I am a beast. Out of this depth there is but
one way of escape. Downwards. I must drench the monster
I have awakened until he sleeps again. I drink and become
oblivious. In these last paroxysms there is nothing for me
but brandy. I shut myself up alone and pour down my gullet
huge draughts of spirit. It mounts to my brain. I am a man
again! and as I regain my manhood, I topple over—dead
drunk.
But the awakening! Let me not paint it. The delirium, the
fever, the self-loathing, the prostration, the despair. I view

For the Term of His Natural Life