A TEMPERANCE PICTURE

Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · Nov 10, 1898

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 24, No. 45.

A TEMPERANCE PICTURE.

“It was in the beautiful bar-room of the Tabor Grand in Denver,” said Eli Perkins. “A group of handsome young men were laughing and drinking, when a poor, tottering tramp pushed open the swinging door, and, with sad eyes, looked at them appealingly.

“ ‘Come in, senator, and drown your cares in the flowing bowl,’ they said jeeringly.

“ ‘I will come in, thank you,’ he said, ‘for I am cold and hungry.’

“ ‘Take this brandy, senator,’ they said mockingly, ‘and drink our health.’

“ ‘After swallowing the liquor, the tramp gazed at them for an instant, and then, with a dignity and eloquence that showed how far he had fallen in the social scale, he began to speak:—

“ ‘Gentlemen,’ he said sadly, ‘I wish you well. You stand where I stood a few years ago. You and I complete the picture of my life. I was, alas, a senator! My bloated face was once as young and handsome as yours. This shambling figure once walked as proudly as yours. I, too, once had a home, and friends, and position. I had a wife as beautiful as an artist’s dream, and I dropped the priceless pearl of her honor and respect in the wine cup, and, Cleopatra-like, saw it dissolve, and quaffed it down. I had children as sweet

and lovely as the flowers of spring, and I saw them fade and die under the curse of a drunken father. I had a home where love lit the flame upon the altar and ministered before it, and I put out the holy fire, and darkness and desolation reigned in its stead. I had aspirations and ambitions that soared as high as the morning star, and I broke and bruised their beautiful wings, and at last strangled them, that I might be tortured with their cries no more. To-day I am a husband without a wife, a father without a child, a tramp without a home to call his own, a man in whom every good impulse is dead. All, all swallowed up in the maelstrom of drink.

“ ‘Young gentlemen,’ he said, as he passed out into the darkness, ‘whichever way you go, whether you follow your mothers’, wives’, and children’s prayers, and enjoy their love on earth and dwell with them in heaven, or whether you become a saddened soul, forever lost, like me, I—I wish you well.’

“ ‘I shall never forget that sad picture,’ continued the humorist. “It was wit and humor ending in pathos. Tears dimmed the eyes of youth as they watched a despairing soul disappearing in the darkness.”