The Hancock Jeffersonian. [volume] (Findlay, Ohio) 1857-1870, 1867-11-29
An Effective Speech.

An EUectlVe SpeccHs
"A speech, speech, from Wilton"
cried the thoughtless fellows.
es"He can't make speech on cold
water, defy him. said one Of their
number. ... f. .-.-r -.-....-.
"My friends" began Wilton.
"Hear, hear! he's really in for it
now; pitiful signs of his devotion to
the bottle. Wilton is on his feet"
The comrade they called Wilton,
was young man, some twenty-three
years of age. Upon his face, and
within his eyes, q settled melancholy
rested. His manners were as grave
as those of an old man. He was Of
ten called "Wilton, the steady" on
account of his quiet adherence tn
principle. .-el. .e5..
The head partner in the firm in
whose employ Wilton was, gave a
great party once a year, and it was
70 this gathering that Wilton had
been persuaded to come.
In vain, his companions tempted
him with the wine that flowed freely.
They considered themselves good
christians, as, indeed, did the wor!i
generally. They gave large'ys to
charities and to their church, where
their seats were seldom empty. They
did great deal of good with their
money; yet in placing this fiery
temptation before young men, some
of whom were as yet without fixed
principles, they committed q gross
and almost fatal error.
Looking about him, Wilton, saw
already many flushed, almost to inc
briation, many eyes, that spite OF
their flash and, sparkle, moved with
difficulty and that dire unsteadiness
that marks the incipient stage, of
drunkenness. --, --
"My fricnds," he said, and then
paused as if to give greater emphasis
to what might follow, Il am going
to make a confession" ai 1Ms s.
"Five years ago 1 had a brother, a
bright, beautiful lad, in whom the
hopes of a large family centered.-
He was called o genius, and he was
one. Sensitive, gentle-hearted and
generous to q fault, he also gave
promise of extraordinary vigor OF
mind. One night several boys in the
village, where l was born, resolved
to have frolie. The party was to
be secret one, and were each to
carry from our homes, if we could,
provisions and wine. 1t come Off
with success There was good
cheer, there were bright and flowing
liquors ); we were all young and buoy
ant. My brother had never tasted
wine. Whether it was dislnclina-
ton caused by natural dislike, or
whether his constitution led him to
avoid it as dangerous to him, l do not
know. L only know-and the recol-
lection is at this moment burning in
my brain-that we all thought that if
we could get him drunk it would be
fine fun. Fiends could not have set
themselves more iDgeniously at work
to compass the object than we did.
I was foremost iu the attempt. / will
not excuse myself, nor aught palliate
my conduct. / knew he had man.
uscript poem, that had been pro
nounced remarkably good; I knew
he could imprOyise almost without
mental effort, and expected that un-
der the stimulus Of the fiery serpent
whose sting dread more than /
dread doath-his brain would be
quickened and we would be charm
ed, perhaps amazed, at the exhibition
of his rare gifts. ..H- -ref II
.sAt last we prevailed, but instead
of quickening, the wine supplied his
faculties. A few glasses reduced him
to state of utter inebriety. 3s.
oThe Marty hrolyn- vx Wo yrn-o
all Wild with drink and excitement;
he alone was insensible and immova-
BILE. There was no rousing him from
the deathly sleep into which he had
fallen. dared not take him home
that night, fearing that our frolic
might be found out In consequence
of the trouble we should have in get
ting him to his room. So We left
him there lying as comfortably as we
could place him-his handsome face
flushed and almost purple, his active
brain, for once, completely stupified.
"In the morning, I was awakened
by the sound of sobs. A white
scarced face stood over me: q trem-
bling weak voice cried out, so, Phil
lip, your poor brother !''
81 sprang from my bed. My
friends, ! knew the truth soou
enough. Herbert had recovered
consciousness in the night sufficient
to mislead him. He had fallen from
the window, o height of twenty feet.
He was still living. In vain my
prayers, and tears, and anguish-his
"Young men, he is living yet, but
an ineurable idiot. Now, will you ask
me to take the accursed stuff? Yes,
the curse. of the living God rests
upon it. 1t has burdened my life, it
has ruined as noble and intellect as
eyer was ready to do battle with the
faults and follies of the world. DO
you still jeerand laugh because I will
not be jovial? / will tell you, if it
was living thing, would strapgle
it-and there is nothing upon earth /
hate with such deadly hatred.
There was q deep silence. Not
one in all the company seemed in
clined fo drink aoain 10.