How does alcohol affect you spiritually?

I was brought into existence on the material side of life under very peculiar circumstances. 

My mother was a highly cultivated, intellectual woman with fine feelings and generous impulses. Although she was addicted to the inordinate use of various kinds of liquor, her soul always yearned for purity of life. 

Strange indeed that she should allow a pernicious taste to control her, and bring her to a premature grave, but such was the case. 

She nourished me into life, her youngest child, when her whole system had become saturated with poisonous liquor. Just think of it—my little, delicate organism, reposing in the womb, and sustained and nourished by one in such a condition! 

When she reeled under the influence of whisky, the material furnished to construct my little body was of like nature—educated, disciplined and marked in every respect for an inebriate!

Allow me to say here that the infantile body, like all material objects in existence, is composed of molecules of matter, obtained wholly from the organism of the mother. They are educated by her—they are impressed with her individuality—they are tinctured with the influences that surround her—they are moulded by her thoughts, and when prepared for their future work, they gravitate naturally to the embryonic child, carrying the lessons impressed upon them to shape the future life. 

I was badly disciplined in the embryonic state. 

Every atom—or particle of matter that my mother appropriated to build up my system was dissolute in habits—was a miserable toper, and I was obliged to lead the kind of life when born for which she inwardly directed me. 

Oh! how potent was my prenatal instruction! 

Her periodic revels prepared me for a wretched life, and I could not restrain myself. I was powerless in my efforts to refrain from intoxicating drinks.

As soon as I grew to boyhood, I commenced drinking inordinately—my body was remorseless in its demands—liquor it must have! 

No moral suasion would do me a particle of good. 

Time passed on, and my life became wretched indeed. 

Finally, I was attacked with delirium tremens. Pain racked every bone—my brain appeared to be on fire—my whole nature was distorted. 

Life to me was then wretched indeed. 

I seemed to be surrounded by thousands of serpents. They floated around in the room. I could see their foul, slimy forms—their forked tongues and poisonous saliva, and hear their devilish hisses! 

How appalling the scene! 

Poets have sung of the horrors of the regions of hell, but no pen-picture could portray my misery! 

All the infernal devils of every imaginary pandemonium could not render me more miserable. 

I was caressed by serpents, and they were as real and tangible to me, as anything on earth is to you. That condition of my system was brought about by the infuriated molecules of my body. They were made drunkards—they drove me to the poisonous cup—they would not give me a moment's peace—they demanded liquor, and I gratified them. They existed to tyrannise over me and render my last moments wretched. 

The weaker my system became, the more violent were the phantom realities. 

They would crawl into my mouth, nose and ears, and nestle in my stomach, lungs and abdomen, while their hisses and rapacious noises were intolerable to hear. They would change their forms in a moment to something more loathsome, and then dash at me, as if determined to annihilate me. One would open his large mouth, and running out his tongue would lave my face and eyes with it. Another would have the sting of a scorpion, and he would thrust it into various parts of my body, and then turn around and lick the wounds he had made. Another would wind itself around my body, and then lifting its head, continue, for a time, a steady watch at my eyes.

Bear this in mind, please—these phantoms were realities to me. The ceiling of my room was covered with hateful images, and they all directed their piercing, fiery gaze at me! If I closed my eyes, it made no difference—the dance of death, and the carnival of the serpents and horned devils would continue!

No pen can picture my misery—it was terrible to relate, hideous, in all its details. 

I died under their influence—the most deplorable sight in existence. 

My awakening was very peculiar. 

At first, I seemed as if emerging from all kinds of rubbish and debris. Gradually that disappeared and the scenes around me commenced brightening. I felt as if on a journey in a new country, and as I travelled on, the magnificence and grandeur thereof continually increased. I could not realise how this could be. Without any effort I seemed to move on, and each step I took bewildered me the more. I saw no one—no one seemed to respond to my earnest appeals for help. 

I did not recognise the fact that I was dead. 

Those slimy serpents had disappeared, affording me great relief, still I realised that my condition was far from being desirable. Finally, I uttered a fervent prayer for assistance, appealing in tender terms to God to send me relief. 

I could move only with great difficulty, I was so weak. I felt as if I had just awakened from a protracted debauch, with my system so enervated thereby that I could not sit erect. 

Finally, I fell into a gentle, refreshing slumber. When I awoke, I found my darling sister and brother, long since deceased, accompanied by a spirit physician, standing by my side. 

Oh! how sweet the expression of that sister's countenance! 

A halo of light encircled her features, and its silvery, cloudlike richness made her have the appearance of an angel! 

She laid her hand upon my forehead, and said—

"Brother, you are in the spirit world. This humble apartment that you are now in corresponds with your inner life. Those pictures of loathsome animals you see yonder represent the outward physical conditions from which you have just escaped. Those shadows of the same poisonous, slimy creatures, resting on the opposite wall represent the fact that your spiritual body is tinctured with the fruits of your habits on earth, and that some time will elapse before the same can be eradicated. Life to you has been a terrific struggle. Your nature was educated for an inebriate, and in the maelstrom of passion you were swept along to the grave. Your taste for strong drink may still exist. You may yearn for that pernicious beverage, which has made your life so miserable. Your organism is very gross and dark now, and be cautious—or a life of wretchedness will still be yours. You must resist all thought of returning to your old haunts of vice and demoralisation. You are honest, noble, philanthropic and tenderhearted in aspiration, and always desired to be strictly temperate, and those promptings are the redeeming traits of your character. They brought us to you this morning. They will enable you to conquer your desire for liquor. You are weak now and will remain so for several days yet."

My brother then said—

''I rejoice to meet you on this occasion. The condition of your physical system drove you into a life of wretchedness. All our efforts to save you were unavailing—down! Down!! Down! you went until you were attacked by delirium tremens, resulting in your terrible death. In aspirations, you were always angelic—in habits of life a profligate. Your aspirations were subordinate to your passion for strong drink, and the latter triumphed over you and ruled them. Your desire now to live a correct life, to do good, and thereby progress upward will triumph. We welcome you to the spirit world, though it will be many months before you can advance to a higher sphere?"

The physician said—

"You are weak, I see, my friend. Your spiritual body has been badly affected by its earth dress—or what is termed the physical system. Between the two there is always a close connection, and every glass of intoxicating liquor you drank transmitted its pernicious influence to your spirit. Your spirit is a storehouse of effects, and each effect is a chapter in your life, from which I can read to judge you. It is a grand old law that all the acts of life write their own history. No nefarious deed can be committed in secret that will not eventually be known in spirit life. By looking at your spiritual organism, I can read your life lines, tell the character of your earth life, as well as you can yourself. You are now on the spiritual side of life, just having emerged from a heartrending sickness—delirium tremens. Your spiritual organism mirror-like reflects your earth condition. By indulging inordinately in intoxicating drinks, you moulded your physical body, and the spirit being connected therewith, received its pernicious influences. To accomplish the grand work in view, you must never place yourself en rapport with the inebriates of earth—or remain long in the atmosphere where liquor is manufactured. I see you are strong enough to conquer eventually. A life of immortal bliss awaits you. Progression will in due time carry you to the sphere of your dear brother and sister. I have given them directions concerning you, and for a short time I must leave you."

I fully realised the truthfulness of my spirit friends' statements. 

I then fell into a calm, refreshing sleep, and when I awoke I was greeted by enchanting music, which thrilled my soul and animated me with an intense desire to make rapid advancement. That aspiration did not, however, remain permanent. There was an attraction around the saloons of earth that would draw me thither at times in spite of myself, and had it not been for the unceasing efforts of my darling sister, I could not have triumphed as soon as I did. Her attention was uniformly tender and affectionate. Her smiles shed an illuminating influence over my pathway, and her encouraging words I always carefully treasured. 

I have been in spirit life many years, and still my spiritual organisation is marred by the debaucheries of earth. A century will not completely eradicate all the deleterious effects of my licentious acts. Those who saturate their physical bodies with poisonous liquors degrade themselves, not only on earth, but in the spirit world. It is horrible to pass to spirit life through the influence of delirium tremens. No one can die naturally who indulges freely in intoxicating beverages. 

I have suffered for my misdeeds more than tongue can express.

The only hell that I have ever found—or suffered from is the one that my mother and myself formed. During my prenatal existence, a tendency was given to my feelings and passions, and all the powers of my resolute will could not withstand its potent influence. The bad habits of my mother were all transferred to my infantile organism—deeply impressed on each particle of matter composing it, and I, of course, suffered from her transgression. 

Let each one read my narrative carefully, and feel kindly and tenderly toward the erring. 

You perhaps are pure and good. Your embryonic growth and development were suitable to mould you properly. Never point the finger of scorn toward the erring, but encircle them with your sympathy and love, and tenderly exhort them to reform. My darling sister never frowned on me once when she was redeeming my spirit from a life of shame. Kindness alone can effect the reformation of the deepest-stained villain. Harsh measures towards those who have sinned can accomplish nothing towards refining their brutal nature. Those who spurn the unfortunate—or the criminal can never progress while that feeling exists. 

Always bear that thought in mind.