“I should be very unwilling to violate that pledge.”

“It would be, virtually, no violation.”

“I cannot see it in that light,” Marshall said, “although you may be perfectly correct.  At any rate, I am not now willing to act up to your interpretation of the matter.”

This declaration closed the argument, as his friends did not feel any strong desire to see him drink, and argued the matter with him as much for argument sake as anything else.  In this they acted with but little true wisdom; for the particular form in which the subject was presented to the mind of Marshall, gave him something to think about and reason about.  And the more he thought and reasoned, the more did he become dissatisfied with the restrictions under which he found himself placed.  Not having felt, for many months, the least desire for liquor, he imagined that even the latent inclination which existed, as he readily supposed, for some time, had become altogether extinguished.  There existed, therefore, in his estimation, now that he had begun to think over the matter, no good reason why he should abstain, totally, from wine, at least, on a social occasion.

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.”