The doctor was distressed and confounded by this declaration. He had feared that such was the case; but now it was charged unequivocally.
"I am pained at all this," he replied, "In sinning I sinned ignorantly."
But, ere he could finish his reply, the sick man became suddenly worse, and sunk into a state of insensibility.
"If it be in human power to save his life," murmured the doctor"I will save it."
Through the whole night he remained at the bed-side, giving, with his own hands, all the remedies, and applying every curative means within reach. But, when the day broke, there was little, if any change for the better. He then went home, but returned in a couple of hours.
"How is your husband?" he asked of the pale-faced wife as he entered. She did not reply, and they went up to the chamber together. A deep silence reigned in the room as they entered.
"Is he asleep?" whispered the doctor.
"See!" The wife threw back the sheet.
"O!" was the only sound that escaped the doctor's lips. It was a prolonged sound, and uttered in a tone of exquisite distress. The white and ghastly face of death was before him.
"It is your work!" murmured the unhappy woman, half beside herself in her affliction.
"Madam! do not say that!" ejaculated the physician. "Do not say that!"
"It is the truth! Did he not charge it upon you with his dying breath?"
"I did all for the best, madam! all for the best! It was an error in his case. But I meant him no harm."
"You put poison to his lips, and destroyed him. You have made his wife a widow and his children orphans!"
"Madam!"The doctor knit his brows and spoke in a stern voice. But, ere he had uttered a word more, the stricken-hearted woman gave a wild scream and fell upon the floor. Nature had been tried beyond the point of endurance, and reason was saved at the expense of physical prostration.
A few weeks later, and Doctor L, in driving past the former residence of Mr. Hobart, saw furniture cars at the door. The family were removing. Death had taken the husband and father, and the poor widow was going forth with her little ones from the old and pleasant home, to gather them around her in a smaller and poorer place. His feelings at the moment none need envy.
How many, like Mr. Hobart, have died through the insane prescription of brandy as a preventive to cholera! and how many more have fallen back into old habits, and become hopeless drunkards! Brandy is not good for health at any time; how much less so, when the very air we breathe is filled with a subtle poison, awaiting the least disturbance in the human economy to affect it with disease.
THE TEMPERANCE PLEDGE
"I WANT a quarter of a dollar, Jane."
This was addressed by a miserable creature, bloated and disfigured by intemperance, to a woman, whose thin, pale face, and heart-broken look, told but too plainly that she was the drunkard's wife.
"Not a quarter of a dollar, John? Surely you will not waste a quarter of a dollar of my hard earnings, when you know that I can scarcely get food and decent clothes for the children?"
As the wife said this, she looked up into her husband's face with a sad appealing expression.
"I must have a quarter, Jane," said the man firmly.
"O, John! remember our little ones. The cold-weather will soon be here, and I have not yet been able to get them shoes. If you will not earn any thing yourself, do not waste the little my hard labor can procure. Will not a sixpence do? Surely that is enough for you to spend for"
"Nothing will do but a quarter, Jane, and that I must have, if I steal it!" was the prompt and somewhat earnest reply.
Mrs. Jarvis laid aside her work mechanically and, rising, went to a drawer, and from a cup containing a single dollar in small pieces, her little all, took out a quarter of a dollar, and turning to her husband, said, as she handed it to him
"Remember, that you are taking the bread out of your children's mouths!"
"Not so bad as that, I hope, Jane," said the drunkard, as he clutched the money eagerly; something like a feeble smile flitting across his disfigured and distorted countenance.
"Yes, and worse!" was the response, made in a sadder tone than that in which the wife had at first spoken.
"How worse, Jane?"
"John!" and the wife spoke with a sudden energy, while her countenance lighted up with a strange gleam. "John, I cannot bear this much longer! I feel myself sinking every day. And youyou who pledged yourself"
Here the voice of the poor woman gave way, and covering her face with her hands, she bent her head upon her bosom, and sobbed and wept hysterically.
The drunkard looked at her for a moment, and then turning hurriedly, passed from the room. For some moments after the door had closed upon her husband, did Mrs. Jarvis stand, sobbing and weeping. Then slowly returning to her chair near the window, she resumed her, work, with an expression of countenance that was sad and hopeless.
In the mean time, the poor wretch who had thus reduced his family to a state of painful destitution, after turning away from his door, walked slowly along the street with his head bowed down, as if engaged in, to him, altogether a new employment, that of self-communion. All at once a hand was laid familiarly upon his shoulders, and a well-known voice said
"Come, John, let's have a drink."
"Jarvis looked up with a bewildered air, and the first thing that caught his eye, after it glanced away from the face of one of his drinking cronies, was a sign with bright gold letters, bearing the words, "EAGLE COFFEE-HOUSE." That sign was as familiar to him as the face of one of his children. At the same moment that his eyes rested upon this, creating an involuntary impulse to move towards the tavern-door, his old crony caught hold of his coat-collar and gave him a pull in the same direction. But much to the surprise of the latter, Jarvis resisted this attempt to give his steps a direction that would lead him into his old, accustomed haunt.
"Won't you drink this morning, Jarvis?" asked the other, with a look of surprise.
There was evidently a powerful struggle going on in the mind of the drunkard. This lasted only for a moment or two, when he said, loudly, and emphatically
"No!"
And instantly broke from his old boon companion, and hurried on his way.
A loud laugh followed him, but he heeded it not. Ten minutes' walk brought him to the store of a respectable tradesman.
"Is Mr. Rin?" he asked, as he entered.
"Back at the desk," was the answer of a clerk.
And Jarvis walked back with a resolute air.
"Mr. R, I want to sign the pledge!"
"You, Jarvis?" Mr. Rsaid, in tones of gratified surprise.
"Yes, me, Mr. R. It's almost a hopeless case; but here goes to do my best."
"Are you fully sensible of what you are about doing, Jarvis?"
"I think I am, Mr. R. I've drunk nothing since yesterday morning, and with the help of Him above, I am determined never to drink another drop as long as I live! So read me the pledge and let me sign it."
Mr. Rturned at once to the constitution of the Washington
Temperance Society, and read the pledge thereunto annexed:
"'We, the undersigned, do pledge ourselves to each other, as gentlemen, that we will not, hereafter, drink any spiritous liquors, wine, malt, or cider, unless in sickness, and under the prescription of a physician.'"
Jarvis took the pen in his hand, that trembled so he. could scarcely make a straight mark on paper, and enrolled his name among the hundreds of those, who, like him, had resolved to be men once more. This done, he laid down the quarter of a dollar which he had obtained from his wife, the admission fee required of all who joined the society. As he turned from the tradesman's store, his step was firmer and his head more erect, than, in a sober state, he had carried it for many a day.
Jarvis took the pen in his hand, that trembled so he. could scarcely make a straight mark on paper, and enrolled his name among the hundreds of those, who, like him, had resolved to be men once more. This done, he laid down the quarter of a dollar which he had obtained from his wife, the admission fee required of all who joined the society. As he turned from the tradesman's store, his step was firmer and his head more erect, than, in a sober state, he had carried it for many a day.
From thence he proceeded to a hatter's-shop.
"Well, Jarvis," was uttered in rather a cool, repulsive tone, as he entered.
"Are you not in want of a journeyman, Mr. Warren?"
"I don't want you, Jarvis."
"If you will give me work, I'll never get drunk again, Mr. Warren."
"You've said that too many times, Jarvis. The last time you went off when I was hurried with work, and caused me to disappoint a customer, I determined never to have any thing more to do with you."
"But I'll never disappoint you again," urged the poor man earnestly.
"It's no use for you to talk to me, Jarvis. You and I are done with each other. I have made up my mind never again to have a man in my shop who drinks rum."
"But I've joined the temperance society, Mr. Warren."
"I don't care if you have: in two weeks you'll be lying in the gutter."
"I'll never drink liquor again if I die!" said Jarvis, solemnly.
"Look here, you drunken vagabond!" returned the master hatter in angry tones, coming from behind the counter, and standing in front of the individual he was addressing"if you are not out of this shop in two minutes by the watch, I'll kick you into the street! So there nowtake your choice to go out, or be kicked out."
Jarvis turned sadly away without a reply, and passed out of the door through which he had entered with a heart full of hope, now pained, and almost ready to recede from his earnest resolution and pledge to become a sober man and a better husband and father. He felt utterly discouraged. As he walked slowly along the street, the fumes of a coffee-house which he was passing, unconsciously, struck upon his sense, and immediately came an almost overpowering desire for his accustomed potation. He paused
"Now that I try to reform, they turn against me," he sighed bitterly. "It is no use; I am gone past hope!"
One step was taken towards the tavern-door, when it seemed as if a strong hand held him back.
"Nono!" he murmured, "I have taken the pledge, and I will stand by it, if I die!" Then moving resolutely onward, he soon found himself near the door of another hatter's-shop. Hope again kindled up in his bosom, and he entered.
"Don't you want a hand, Mr. Mason?" he asked, in a hesitating tone.
"Not a drunken one, Jarvis," was the repulsive answer.
"But I've reformed, Mr. Mason."
"So I should think from your looks."
"But, indeed, Mr. Mason I have quit drinking, and taken the pledge."
"To break it in three days. Perhaps three hours."
"Won't you give me work, Mr. Mason, if I promise to be sober?"
"No! For I would not give a copper for your promises."
Poor Jarvis, turned away. When he had placed his hand to the pledge, he dreamed not of these repulses and difficulties. He was a good workman, and he thought that any one of his old employers would be glad to get him back again, so soon as they learned of his having signed the total-abstinence pledge. But he had so often promised amendment, and so often broken his promise and disappointed them, that they had lost all confidence in him; at least, the two to whom he had, thus far, made application.
After leaving the shop of Mr. Mason, Jarvis seemed altogether irresolute. He would walk on a few steps, and then pause to commune with his troubled and bewildered thoughts.
"I will try Lankford," said he, at length, half-aloud; "he will give me work, surely."
A brisk walk of some ten minutes brought him to the door of a small hatter's-shop in a retired street. Behind the counter of this shop stood an old man, busily employed in ironing a hat. There was something benevolent in his countenance and manner. As Jarvis entered, he looked up, and a shade passed quickly over his face.
"Good morning, Mr. Lankford," said Jarvis, bowing, with something like timidity and shame in his manner.
"Are you not afraid to come here, John?" replied the old man, sternly.
"I am ashamed to come, but not afraid. You will not harm me, I know."
"Don't trust to that, John. Did you not steal, ay, that is the worddid you not steal from me the last time I employed you?" The old man was stern and energetic in his manner.
"I was so wicked as to take a couple of skins, Mr. Lankford, but I did very wrong, and am willing to repay you for them, if you will give me work. I was in liquor when I did it, and, when in liquor, I have no distinct consciousness of the evil of any action."
"Give you work, indeed! O, no! John; I cannot give you another chance to rob me."
"But I will not get drunk any more. And you know, Mr. Lankford, that while I was a sober man, and worked for you, I never wronged you out of a sixpence worth."
"Won't get drunk any more! Ah! John, I have lived too long in. the world, and have seen too much, to heed such promises."
"But I am in earnest, Mr. Lankford. I signed the pledge this morning."
"You!" in a tone of surprise.
"Yes, I signed it."
"Ah, John," after a pause, and shaking his head. incredulously, "I cannot credit your word, and I am sorry for it."
"If I have signed the pledge, and if I am really determined to be a reformed man, will you give me work, Mr. Lankford!"
The old man thought for a few moments, and then said, half-sorrowfully
"I am afraid of you, John. You are such an old offender on the score of drunkenness, that I have no confidence in your power to keep the pledge."
"Then what shall I do!" the poor wretch exclaimed, in tones that made the heart of the old man thrillfor nature and pathos were in them. "Now that I am trying in earnest to do better, no one will give me a word of encouragement, nor a helping hand. Heaven help me!for I am forsaken of man."
Mr. Lankford stood thoughtful and irresolute for some moments. At length, he said
"John, if you will bring me a certificate from Mr. R, that you have signed the total-abstinence pledge, I will give you another trial. But if you disappoint me again, you and I are done for ever."
The countenance of Jarvis brightened up instantly. He turned quickly away, without reply, and hurried off to the store of Mr. R, the secretary of the society he had joined. The certificate was, of course, obtained.
"And you have joined, sure enough, John," Mr. Lankford said, in a changed tone, as he glanced over the certificate.
"Indeed I have, Mr. Lankford."
"And you seem in earnest."
"If I was ever in earnest about any thing in my life, I am in earnest now."
"Keep to your pledge, then, John, and all will be well. While you were a sober man, I preferred you to any journeyman in my shop. Keep sober, and you shall never want a day's work while I am in business."
The poor man was now shown his place in the shop, and once again he resumed his work, though under a far different impulse than had, for years, nerved him to action.
Two hours brought his regular dinner-time, when Jarvis, who began to feel the want of food, returned home, with new and strange feelings about his heart. One impulse was to tell his wife what he had done, and what he was doing. But then he remembered how often he had mocked her new springing hopeshow often he had promised amendment, and once even joined a temperance society, only to relapse into a lower and more degraded condition.