EDWARD FISHER, THE BANKER. A SKETCH, BY T. B. THOMPSON. THE narratives of reformed drunkards are full of interest. While they cheer the temperance reformer, they frequently inspire others who have been deeply sunk in the mire of drunkenness, to resolve to be free from its debasing influence. The following narrative of facts is written for the accomplishment of these results. The hero of our tale is Edward Fisher, of Holomas Drove, Wisbeach St. Mary's. At the age of 11, with scarcely a knowledge of the first rudiments of education, he entered the service of a farmer, in which situation he remained for some time. In consequence of the drainage of the Fens offering high wages to bankers or excavators, he was induced to engage in that laborious employment. To this period his conduct had been moral, and he was rarely or ever drunk. Having now to work with some of the strongest and best men in the district, who believed that they gained their strength by intoxicating drinks, and that no man was fit to work with them who did not drink as hard as themselves, he too readily yielded to temptation, and soon became as degraded as the rest. His once happy cottage became the home of misery, and his wife and children were made to suffer through his intemperance; and though his wages were good, yet they were not sufficient to support his drunkenness, and to find a comfortable habitation for his household. Unable to pay his rent, in the depth of winter, he was forced from the house that had sheltered him and his family, compelled to raise a miserable shed on a piece of waste land, through which the winter's storms found a ready access. During the winter his house was often flooded to the cords of the bed; and in this hole, and on that bed, his poor wife was confined three weeks. To increase his sorrows, he had lost the confidence of those who only could give him work; and was therefore compelled to search for employment at a distance. These things led him to seek comfort in that which was the cause of his sufferings-drink; and, as a necessary consequence, he sunk deeper in wickedness and misery. In the midst of his sins and sorrows, he was induced to attend the preaching of the Primitive Methodists. His attention was arrested; the truth reached his heart; and with trembling lips he exclaimed, "What must I do to be saved?" In a short time Fisher and his wife became members of the society. His home again became happy; the oath was exchanged for prayer, and the song of the sot for the hymn of praise. Having tasted of the sweets of religion, he felt anxious that others should share in the same blessings. This consistent conduct soon gained him the confidence of his Christian friends, and prospects of usefulness were opening before him. Fisher had drunk deep of the cup of sorrow; he had learned from painful experience that "the way of transgressors is hard." He feared lest he should again fall into habits of intemperance. Unhappily he believed that strong drink was necessary for those who had to perform toil like his. In addition to all this, they were articles of every-day use alike by the profane and the pious. He saw the evil of excess, but not danger of the moderate use. He was on the edge of a precipice, but he knew it not ; and, alas! like thousands more, in an unguarded hour he fell, and fell into deeper misery than before. He drank now, not only for excitement, but to drown reflection. He became reckless as to consequences. Night after night was spent in revelry. His wife used every means in her power to win him back to habits of sobriety and peace. His children, had it not been for the industry of his wife, would have been driven to the workhouse. At the best of times they hardly knew how to get a sufficiency of food. In consequence of the father's drunkenness, debts increased, one of which was owing to the publican, who pressed for the payment of his bill, and when the poor mother told him that it was his house which had helped to ruin her peace, and deprive her children of necessary comforts, the unfeeling wretch replied, that was no business of his; they must pinch to pay him! When this was told the sot, it filled him with remorse. He wished that he was dead, or could change his place with the beasts of the field. He hated himself for his folly. He felt deeply his degradation, but could see no way of escape. To increase his misery, on his return home one day his youngest child, a little girl about five years old, as soon as she saw him coming, exclaimed in fear-"Mother, there is my old drunken daddy coming again." He thought, "What a wretch I have become, when my own child dreads my return home!" Mental anguish and intemperance began to injure his health, and he found himself no longer able to perform the labour of a banker. His strength rapidly wasted: and, in debt and poverty, he was soon laid upon the bed of sickness, and he feared it was the bed of death. Like many others in the same state, he was led to ponder over his past life, and repeatedly he promised that, if Providence would restore him, he would lead a righteous and sober life. Contrary to all human hopes, he began to recover. This was in the year 1840. The Temperance movement had begun to attract attention. Anxious to escape impending ruin, he determined to hear for himself. He thought that the teetotalers went too far; he could do with what is commonly called temperance. In addition to this, he must work hard; his health had failed; and he wanted a little of something extra to support him. He began, however, to think what strong drink had done for him; he soon found that, instead of a blessing, it had been a curse. It had robbed him of his peace; it had all but broken the heart of his wife, and caused his children to grow up in ignorance; and he feared that drink might prove his eternal ruin. Though fully satisfied that his abstinence would injure his health, he resolved so adopt the principle, live or die, determined to be a sober man, and tremblingly gave in his name to the pledge, conscious that it was to him a last, a forlorn hope. Having adopted the principle of abstinence, to his great surprise and joy, though he was nearly fifty years of age, and had been a drunkard about eighteen years, he found his strength return, and was once more able to perform his work as well as ever. He can now labour with the best of men at the hardest employment; and he has satisfied the minds of numbers, that the most difficult work can be done not only without, but better without its aid than with it. He became again a member of the Primitive Methodist Society, and was made a partaker of that peace which passeth all human understanding. He determined to show to others the reality of his change by the consistency of his life. By hard working and rigid economy he paid off his debts. His children were sent to the day-school. The very little he had learned in early life was all but lost. He resolved to learn for himself, and, after many a hard day's toil, as he sat down in his cottage for the purpose of improving his mind, by diligence and perseverance he soon learned to read and write. He then felt anxious to teach others; he formed an evening class for adults. One of his pupils has now become a local preacher. Fisher for some years has been similarly employed on the Sabbath. And working hard during the week, on the Sunday with a cheerful heart and willing feet, he travelled upwards of a dozen miles, preached three times the word of life to those who, had it not been for the labours of himself and others like-minded, would have been left in darkness. His labours have not been in vain. I have met with several who, through his untiring efforts, have been reclaimed from habits of intemperance, and have changed the public-house for the house of prayer. The influence of his example amongst his class is incalculable. In the midst of his multifarious labours, he is ever devising plans of usefulness; he is always ready for "works of faith and labours of love." In his spare moments he has written several essays on moral and religious subjects, one on "The Temporal Advantages of the Sabbath," for which he received prize of £5 from the hands of Lord Ashley, at the great meeting at Exeter Hall. The appearance and address of Fisher, attired in homely fustian, called forth a high eulogium from that benevolent nobleman, who described him as "a fine specimen of Briton's toiling millions." We have briefly traced the history of one of our trophies. I will not attempt to describe the joy of his family. Over him, doubtless, angels will rejoice, and good men will feel grateful. The case of Edward Fisher is not a solitary one; we count our reformed ones by thousands; and there are hundreds of thousands more who want our aid. "Who will come up to the help of the Lord against the mighty?" -British Temperance Advocate. J. M. Burton and Co., Stereotypers and Printers, Ipswich. |
