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The daily recurrence of such thoughts, soon began to worry his mind, until the pledge, that had for two years lain so lightly upon him, became a burden almost too intolerable to be borne.

“Why didn’t I bind myself for a limited period?” he at last said, aloud, thus giving a sanction and confirmation by word of the thoughts that had been gradually forming themselves into a decision in his mind. No sooner had he said this, than the whole subject assumed a more distinct form, and a more imposing aspect in his view. He now saw clearly, what had not before seemed perfectly plain–what had been till then encompassed by doubts. He was satisfied that he had acted blindly when he pledged himself to total-abstinence.

“Three hundred signed the pledge last night,” said his wife to him, a few weeks after the occurrence of the dinner-party, just mentioned.

“Three hundred! We are carrying everything before us.”

“Who can tell,” resumed the wife, “the amount of happiness involved in three hundred pledges to total-abstinence? There were, doubtless, many husbands and fathers among the number who signed. Now, there is joy in their dwellings. The fire, that long since went out, is again kindled upon their hearths. How deeply do I sympathize with the heart-stricken wives, upon whom day as again arisen, with a bright sun shining down from an unclouded sky!”

“It is, truly, to them, a new era–or the dawning of a new existence.–Most earnestly do I wish that the day had arrived, which I am sure will come, when not a single wife in the land will mourn over the wrong she suffers at the hand of a drunken husband.”

“To that aspiration, I can utter a most devout amen,” Mrs. Marshall rejoined, fervently.

“A few years of perseverance and well-directed energy, on our part, will effect all this, I allow myself fondly to hope, if we do not create a reaction by over-doing the matter.”

“How, over-doing it?” asked the wife.

“There is a danger of over-doing it in many ways. And I am by no means sure that the pledge of perpetual abstinence is not an instance of this.”

“The pledge of perpetual abstinence! Why, husband, what do you mean?”

“My remark seems to occasion surprise. But I think that I can make the truth of what I say apparent to your mind. The use of the pledge, you will readily admit, is to protect a man against the influence of a morbid thirst for liquor, which his own resolution is not strong enough to conquer.”

“Well.”

“So soon, then, as this end is gained, the use of the pledge ceases.”

“Is it ever gained? Is a man who has once felt this morbid thirst, ever safe from it?”

“Most certainly do I believe that he is. Most certainly do I believe that a few years of total abstinence from everything that intoxicates, will place him on the precise ground that he occupied before the first drop of liquor passed his lips.”

“I cannot believe this, Jonas. Whatever is once confirmed by habit, it seems to me, must be so incorporated into the mental and physical organization, as never to be eradicated. Its effect is to change, in a degree, the whole system, and to change it so thoroughly, as to give a bias to all succeeding states of mind and body–thus transmitting a tendency to come under the influence of that bias.”

“You advance a thing, Jane, which will not hold good in practice. As, for instance, it is now two years since I tasted a drop of wine, brandy, or anything else of a like nature. If your theory were true, I should still feel a latent desire, at times, to drink again. But this is not the case. I have not the slightest inclination. The sight, or even the smell of wine, does not produce the old desire, which it would inevitably do, if it were only quiescent–not extirpated–as I am confident that it is.”