It is well known, my lords, that publick happiness must be on a stated proportion to publick virtue; that mutual trust is the cement of society, and that no man can be trusted but as he is reputed honest.  To promote trust, my lords, is the apparent tendency of all laws.  When the ties of morality are enforced by penal sanctions, men are more afraid to violate them, and, therefore, are trusted with less danger; but when they no longer fear the law, they are to be restrained only by their consciences; and if neither law nor conscience has any influence upon their conduct, they are only a herd of wild beasts, let loose to prey upon each other, and every man will inflict or suffer pain, as he meets with one stronger or weaker than himself.  Thus, my lords, will all authority cease, property will become dangerous to him that possesses it, and confusion will overspread the whole community; nor can it be easily conceived, by the most extensive comprehension how far the mischiefs may spread, or where the chain of destructive consequences will end.

If we consider our fleet or our army, my lords, it is apparent, that neither obedience nor fidelity can be expected from men upon whom all the ties of morality, and all the sanctions of law have lost their influence; they will mutiny without fear, and desert without scruple, and like wild beasts, will, upon the least provocation, turn upon those by whom they ought to be governed.

But drunkenness, my lords, not only corrupts men, by taking away the sense of those restraints by which they are generally kept in awe, and withheld from the perpetration of villanies, but by superadding the temptations of poverty, temptations not easily to be resisted, even by those whose eyes are open to the consequences of their actions, and which, therefore, will certainly prevail over those whose apprehensions are laid asleep, and who never extend their views beyond the gratification of the present moment.

Drunkenness, my lords, is the parent of idleness; for no man can apply himself to the business of his trade, either while he is drinking, or when he is drunk.  Part of his time is spent in jollity, and part in imbecility; when he is amidst his companions he is too gay to think of the consequences of neglecting his employment; and when he has overburdened himself with liquor, he is too feeble and too stupid to follow it.

Poverty, my lords, is the offspring of idleness, as idleness of drunkenness; the drunkard’s work is little and his expenses are great; and, therefore, he must soon see his family distressed, and his substance reduced to nothing:  and surely, my lords, it needs not much sagacity to discover what will be the consequence of poverty produced by vice.

It is not to be expected, my lords, that a man thus corrupted will be warned by the approach of misery, that he will recollect his understanding, and awaken his attention; that he will apply himself to his business with new diligence, endeavour to recover, by an increase of application, what he has lost by inattention, and make the remembrance of his former vices, and the difficulties and diseases which they brought upon him, an incitement to his industry, a confirmation of his resolution, and a support to his virtue.