“Perhaps an incident that occurred not long ago, which I will relate to you, may explain more clearly my meaning.  I can vouch for its correctness, for it came under my own observation.  You have frequently heard me speak of Henry Leslie, my room-mate at college, one of the noblest and most gifted of young men, but who unfortunately had contracted a taste for intoxicating liquors.  Unfortunately for himself, his agreeable manners and fine qualities rendered him a great favorite with the ladies, and no party seemed complete without him; and thus constantly exposed to the seducing influence of the wine-cup, the habit of imbibing largely grew so strong, that he scarcely had any restraining power left.  I remonstrated with him, and, as I trusted, with some success, for he solemnly promised to abstain totally from the intoxicating beverage,—­but the very next day we found, on returning home from a walk, an invitation to an evening party lying on our table.  It was from the mother of the young lady to whom report alleged he was deeply attached, and whatever influence I might have possessed in dissuading him from attending any other social gathering, I found I was powerless in this case.  But he again renewed his determination to abstain from intoxicating stimulants.

“’I know what you fear, Arthur, but I have made the resolution to “touch not, taste not, handle not,” as the teetotallers say, and I am determined not to break it.’

“I made no answer, but prepared to accompany him, with a heavy heart; for I felt certain, in my own mind, of the result, at least to some extent, of that evening’s visit.  I need not enter into particulars; suffice it to say, that Henry Leslie bravely withstood all solicitations, from our sex, to partake of the destroying beverage, and I was beginning to hope that my fears would prove unfounded, when the daughter of our hostess, the young lady to whom I before alluded, approached him with a glass of sparkling wine in her hand.  She was beautiful,—­I cannot but acknowledge that,—­and I shall never forget her appearance as she stood there, a fascinating smile lighting up her animated countenance, and, in her sweetest tones, begged him to take a glass of wine with her.  I thought of Satan, disguised as an angel of light, and trembled for the result, as I stood anxiously listening for his answer.  It came in the negative, but the hesitating, half-apologetic tone was very different from the firm and decided one, in which he had resisted all other solicitations.  But she was not yet satisfied.  Womanly vanity must triumph, no matter how dearly the victory may be purchased.

“’You surely will not be so ungallant as to refuse a lady so small a favor,’—­and her eyes added, as plainly as words,—­’but much less can you refuse me.’

“‘You see how society is degenerating, Mr. Bernard,’ she said, turning to me, ’there was a time when a lady’s request was deemed sacred, now we poor women have little or no influence over your sex.’