“I thought the burnt brandy would be effective,” said Mr. Hobart on the next morning.  “And it has proved so.”  In order not to lose this good effect, he fortified himself before going out with some of the same article, unburnt.  But, alas!  By ten o’clock the diarrhoea showed itself again, and in a more decided form.

Oh dear!” said he in increased alarm.  “This won’t do.  I must see the doctor.”  And off he started for Doctor L—­’s office.  But, on the way he could not resist the temptation to stop at a tavern for another glass of brandy, notwithstanding he began to entertain a suspicion as to the true cause of the disturbance.  The doctor happened to be in.  “I think I’d better have a little medicine, doctor,” said he, on seeing his medical adviser.  A stitch in time, you know.”

“Ain’t you well?”

“No,” and Mr. Hobart gave his symptoms.

“An opium pill will do all that is required,” said the doctor.

“Shall I continue the brandy?” asked the patient.

“Have you taken brandy every day since I saw you?” inquired the doctor.

“Yes; twice, and sometimes three times.”

“Ah!” The doctor looked thoughtful.

“Shall I continue to do so?”

“Perhaps you had better omit it for the present.  You’re not in the habit of drinking any thing?”

“No.  I haven’t tasted brandy before for five years.”

“Indeed!  Yes, now, I remember you said so.  You’d better omit it until we see the effect of the opium.  Sudden changes are not always good in times like these.”

“I don’t think the brandy has hurt me,” said Mr. Hobart.

“Perhaps not.  Still, as a matter of prudence, I would avoid it.  Let the opium have a full chance, and all will be right again.”

An opium pill was swallowed, and Mr. Hobart went back to his place of business.  It had the intended effect.  That is, it cured one disease by producing another—­suspended action took the place of over-action.  He was, therefore, far from being in a state of health, or free from danger in a cholera atmosphere.  There was one part of the doctor’s order that Mr. Hobart did not comply with.  The free use of brandy for a few days rekindled the old appetite, and made his desire for liquor so intense, that he had not, or, if he possessed it, did not exercise the power of resistance.

Sad beyond expression was the heart of Mrs. Hobart, when evening came, and her husband returned home so much under the influence of drink as to show it plainly.  She said nothing to him, then, for that she knew would be of no avail.  But next morning, as he was rising, she said to him earnestly and almost tearfully.

“Edward, let me beg of you to reflect before you go further in the way you have entered.  You may not be aware of it, but last night you showed so plainly that you had been drinking that I was distressed beyond measure.  You know as well as I do, where this will end, if continued.  Stop, then, at once, while you have the power to stop.  As to preventing disease, it is plain that the use of brandy has not done so in your case; but, rather, acted as a predisposing cause.  You were perfectly well before you touched it; you have not been well since.  Look at this fact, and, as a wise man, regard its indications.”