He knew all about wines, and had a weak vanity
in being thought a connoisseur. If he had a friend to dinner, he would
bring out two or three kinds, and discuss them through half the meal.
He called the men who were ranging themselves against the terrible
evil of intemperance, and seeking to stay its baleful course, "poor
fanatics." He talked of pure wines and liquors as harmless, and gave
them to his son at suitable times and occasions, _moderately_; only
guarding him by warnings against excess.
But these warnings went for nothing as appetite increased. At twelve
years of age the boy was content with a single glass of light wine at
his dinner; at eighteen he wanted two glasses, and at twenty-one
three. By this time he had acquired convivial habits, and often drank
freely with other young men of his age. His mother was the first to
take the alarm; but his father was slow to believe that his son was in
danger. The sad truth broke upon him at last in a painful humiliation.
At a large party in his own house the young man became so badly
intoxicated that he had to be removed from the company.
From that unhappy period wine was banished from the father's table.
But it was too late! The work of ruin had progressed too far.
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