Mr. Birtwell’s voice and manner grew more confident as he spoke.  He felt that he had closed the argument.

“If society,” answered his wife, “gets wrong, how is it to get right?”

Mr. Birtwell was silent.

“Is it not made up of individuals?”

“Of course.”

“And is not each of the individuals responsible, in his degree, for the conduct of society?”

“In a certain sense, yes.”

“Society, as a whole, cannot determine a question of right and wrong.  Only individuals can do this.  Certain of these, more independent than the rest, pass now and then from the beaten track of custom, and the great mass follow them.  Because they do this or that, it is right or in good taste and becomes fashionable.  The many are always led by the few.  It is through the personal influence of the leaders in social life that society is now cursed by its drinking customs.  Personal influence alone can change these customs, and therefore every individual becomes responsible, because he might if he would set his face against them, and any one brave enough to do this would find many weaker ones quick to come to his side and help him to form a better social sentiment and a better custom.”

“All very nicely said,” replied Mr. Birtwell, “but I’d like to see the man brave enough to give a large fashionable party and exclude wine.”

“So would I. Though every lip but mine kept silence, there would be one to do him honor.”

“You would be alone, I fear,” said the husband.

“When a man does a right and brave thing, all true men honor him in their hearts.  All may not be brave enough to stand by his side, but a noble few will imitate the good example.  Give the leader in any cause, right or wrong, and you will always find adherents of the cause.  No, my husband, I would not be alone in doing that man honor.  His praise would be on many lips and many hearts would bless him.  I only wish you were that man!  Spencer, if you will consent to take this lead, I will walk among our guests the queenliest woman, in heart at least, to be found in any drawing-room this season.  I shall not be without my maids-of-honor, you may be sure, and they will come from the best families known in our city.  Come! say yes, and I will be prouder of my husband than if he were the victorious general of a great army.”

“No, thank you, my dear,” replied Mr. Birtwell, not in the least moved by his wife’s enthusiasm.  “I am not a social reformer, nor in the least inclined that way.  As I find things I take them.  It is no fault of mine that some people have no control of their appetites and passions.  Men will abuse almost anything to their own hurt.  I saw as many of our guests over-eat last night as over-drink, and there will be quite as many headaches to-day from excess of terrapin and oysters as from excess of wine.  It’s no use, Margaret.  Intemperance is not to be cured in this way.  Men who have a taste for wine will get it, if not in one place then in another; if not in a gentleman’s dining-room, then in a drinking-saloon, or somewhere else.”