The Argus. (Rock Island, Ill.) 1885-1886, 1886-03-02

began his lecture Ri lIltl|[>t6 y lSSsSsW
on Peculiar Peo- |. 81 ,3sz{l1=t 1s$ts$yzaa
pie" But he sci Il K,bi(8 L3VsSsST%
dom spoke on any W..s WI Ss F#f9%Y Z
SUI bject without FT WIZ y
sooner or later ,o,,> ~ ,,,,,,u
touching on the
topic which was ever nearest his heart-tem-
perance.
On this night, after speaking not quite
three-quarters of an hour, he glidad into
talk ON the deadly effects of drunkenness
He was never more fiery, never more elo-
luent. He gesticulated abundantly, and
threw all the dramatic power Of his nature
into his words. His audience was MAJ
netiz'd and thrilled as seldom in their lives
He adjured young men with all the intea-
sity of his soul to abjure the serpent of
alcohol. Heraisei his tones, and in a fervid,
powerful voice exclaimed;
Young MAN, MAKE YOUR RECORD CLEAN
! lmmed ately after it was observed that he
thew his arms into the air, and that his
head dropped upon his chest He wa always
| intensely dramatic, and the audienc, though
this was mare gesticulation. Some were
| even still deceived when the orator fell for
ward upon the p atform But he did not
rise Some of those present lifted him and
carried him to sofa. There was intense
excitement among the overweight audience
then. a physician present came forward
examined him, and sail that Mr. Cough was
| stricken with apoplexy. His left side was
suddenly paralyzad. He fingered two DAYS
| unconscious and died Death came to him
in the way that all warriors who fight the
| good fight would choose-sIddenly in battle,
with his armor on. But the last message he
! left his fellow man is strangely significant.
| When he uttered the words his feet were
already upon the borders of the invisible
! country.
| Young man, keep your record clean"
| 1t is john j. Coughs message from thu
| other world.
| His history is familiar TO almost every
| child in America. He had been occurring on
| temperance as far back as many of US can
remember, so long, indeed, it almost seemed
| that, like Tennysons brook, he had been
| going ON forever Yet we find that he was
| only 6S years of age-not so very Id. after
all, in these times when people live to be 10.
| But he had spoken in public more times than
any other man living probably thaa any
other man dead. In one year he lectured
I
days In all he had delivered at the time Of
| his death about S, 600 lectures and had trav-
| eed half million miles. 1t is not too
much to say either that he permanently re-
| formed hundreds if not thousands of drunk
ards. He did this all the more effectually
| because he was reformed drunkard him
self Those cold, rigid purists with turuip
| In their breasts instead of heart, who sit
calmly back and lecture the drunkard on
the enormous sin of inebriety. little know
the molten fire of craving that consumes
his soul. But John b. Cough knew how it
was himself. The snakes, the scorpions and
| the burning-eyed demons of delirium
tremens bad dashed him in the midnight
watches His final escape from alcohol is
one of the most magnificent triumphs of the
| human viii on record, if it was indeed
simply that and not also power outside
of and beyond him
John b. Cough seems to have been raised
,ip to do a great work He himself ALWAYS
felt it TO be so His gifts and the money
| they brought him were alike used for the
good of his fellow man. His birth was
! English, his origin so poor and humble that
when be was II years old his father appren-
| ticed him to family coming to America
| He sent the boy away from him and across
the water, in the hope that in the new world
he might rise above the poverty and lowli-
ne.s from which there was no hope that he
could EN- rye in the oil. Poor people can
not afford to have feelings
He worked on n farm at first; then be-
came Eookbinder in a Methodist publish
ing house. He was of warm genial nature,
| with marvellous dramatic talent He never
had more than the rudiments of an educa-
ton. The power he possessed came wholly
| 10y nature. He sunk, in youth, TO the lowest
depths Of degradation, He was discharged
from one situation after another. He mar
riod, but lost his wife and infant child by
death 1t was said that his drunkenness
partly caused the death Of his girl wife He
felt rs if it was So and drank deeper to
drown the sting of it. A Quaker, Mr. STRAIT
| ton, found him reeling crazy drunk through
tie streets of this city in 1872, and induced
him to go to ii temperance meeting and sign
| the pledge. After that came n terrific strur-
gle of week to keep the pledge The
struggle nearly killed him. He came out
| of it weak as an infant, Tut he triumphed
| Shortly afterwards he began ecturiqg. I he
chqptag Of his autobiography in which h
ne t!la "a Lllb u lfFOfN OF JdJ week is Almost
blood chilling, He had a power of language
| which put things with the vividness of a
lightning flash. He went to lecture in Eng
land on temperance early in his career, and
the Students of Oxford university Kissed and
| egged him, so unpopular was his cause IN
| the land Of porter and brown stout.
Once after signing the pledge he reapsed,
but only for short time An English
writer says 1t is mainly TO John B. Cough
that tie United States owes its comparative
freedom from drunkenness He lectured
over forty years and never overcame his
stage fright He always wanted to run
away the first moment when he faced an
audience. This feeling grew on hih,
Of late years. He never wrote out a
lecture or made n note of his speeches
beforehand. A neighbor of his told me
last fall that Cough was poor man. His
charity was as large as his earnings. He
had beautiful country home near here.
He was much beloved by his neighbors. The
principal treasure of his home was a very
fine collection of the art works of George
Cruikshank, the teetoialist FAINTER and
friend of Cough. Among those whom
Coughs bounty supported in recent years
y ere the widow and children of Mr.. STRAIT
ton. the good Quaker who reclaimed hin
from i1ebriaty 1t is good to leave such q
rncor rs bis behind one
ELIZA ARcHARD