The Bossier banner. [volume] (Bellevue, Bossier Parish, La.) 1859-1952, 1897-02-18

expended in this destructive music
The lights have gone out in the draw
Ing room, the pianos have ceased the
puisatlon OF their keys, tho wardrobe
has lost Its last article of appropriate
attire. The Belshazzarean feast has
left nothing but the broken pieces of
the crushed chalices. There it stands,
tho Rhastliest thing On earth, the rem
nant OF drunkard's home. The cost
llest thing on earth is sin. The most
expensive OF all music is the song of
the drunkards. 1t is the highest tariff
OF nations-not a protective tariff.
but tariff Of doom, tariff of woe, a
tariff OF death. This evil whets the
knives OF the assassins, cuts the
most OF the wounds Of the hospital,
makes necessary most Of the aims
houses, causes the most Of the rawlings
OF the insane asylum, and puts up
most OF the iron bars of the peniten-
ttaries. 1t has its hand to-day on the
threat of the American republic. 1t
is tho taskmaster of nations, and the
human race crouches under its anath-
ema- The song of the drunkards
has tor its accompaniment the clank of
chains. the chattering teeth of pov-
erty, the rattle of the executioner's
scaffold. the creaking door of the de.
serted home. the crash Of shipwrecks,
and the groan OF empires. The g., ,O2O,-
OOO, COO which rum costs this country
in year, in the destruction of grain
and sugar and the supporting Of the
panPers and invalids and the criminals
which strong drink causes, is only a
small part of what is paid for this ex-
pensive song of the drunkards.
Again, this song of tho drunkards is
a multitudinous song-not a solo, not
duet, not quartet, not a sextet; but
millions on millions are this hour sing
ing it. Do not think that alcoholism
has this field all to itself. 1t has pow
erful rivals in the intoxicants of other
nations; hasheesh, and arrack, and
pulque, and opium. and quavo, and
mastic, and wedro. Every nation,
barbare as we'll as civilized, has its
pet intoxicant. Fhe song of the
drunkards is rendered in Chinese,
Hindoo, Arabian, Assyrian, Persian
Mexican-ye, all tho languages.
All zanes join ia it. No CONT
nent Would be large enough for
the choir gallery if oil those who
have this libretto in their hands
should stand side by side to chant the
international chorus. Other throngs
are just learning the eight notes of
this deathful music, which is already
mastered by the orchestras in full
voice under the batons in full swing.
All the musicians assembled at Dussel-
dorf. or Berlin, or Boston Peace jubi-
lee, rendering symphonies, rcauiems
or grand marches Of Meadelssohn, or
Wagner, or Chopin, or Handel, were
insignificant in numbers as compared
with tho innumerable throngs, host
beside host, gallery bove gallery, who
are now pouring forth the song of the
drunknrd.
Again, the song OF the drunkards is
a suggestive song. You hear nursery
refrain, a nd right away you think Of
your childhood home, and brothers
and sisters with whom you played, and
mother, long since gone to rest. You
hear national air, and you think of
the encampment of 1868, and the still
night on the river bank, and the camp
fires that shook their reflections up and
down the faces of the regiment. You
hear and old church tune, and you are
reminded Of the revival scenes amid
which you were brought to God.
Nothing SO brings up associations as
a song sung or played upon instru-
ment, and the drunkard's song is full
of suggestion. As you hear it on the
street quite late some night, you begin
to say to yourself, II wonder if he has
mother? Is his wife waiting for him?
viii his children be frightened when
he enters the front door and staggers,
| whooping up the stairs? What chance
is there for a young man started SO
early on the down grade? In what
| business will he succeed? How long
| before that man will run through his
property? wonder how he got SO far
astray? Can any influence be welded
to fetch him back? He must have got
into bad company who led him off. u
So you soliloq uize and guess about
this man whose voice you hear on the
street under the starlight.
| Again, the song of the drunkards is
easily learned. Through what long
and difficult drill one must 60 to sue
ceed as an elevated and inspiring
singer. Emma Abbott, among the
most eminent cantatrices that ever en-
chanted academies of music, told me
on an ocean ships deck, in answer tc
my question: "Whither are you
bound?" II am going to Berlin and
Paris to study music" "What!' said
latter all your world-renowued sue
cesses in music, going to study?'
Then she told me through what hard
ships, through what self-denials
through what almost killing fatigue!
she had gone in order to be 3
singer, and that when, in her Garlic,
days, a great teacher of music had tolG
her there were certain notes she coule
never reach, she said: II will reaci
them" and through doing nothing
else but practice for Ave years she dix
reach them. Oh, how many heroes
| and haroines of rnnsical achievement