University of Virginia Library

3. CHAPTER III.

We have, in the preceding chapter shown our hero surrounded with the
happiness of `home.' We have witnessed the manly integrity and virtuous
firmness of his moral character, in his interview with Ralph Waldron; the
kindness and affability of his nature in his unreserved intercourse with
Roundy; the excellency of his character as a son; the purity of his devotion
as a lover. We have seen him honored and loved, and the centre of the
hopes of two beings, the dearest to him upon earth. We have borne testimony
to his high principles as a man; and the temperance, truth and sound
judgement he has manifested, have irresistably commanded our respect, and
created in our breasts a strong and sincere interest in his future career.—
Towards Waldron, his companion from boyhood to manhood, a young man
of equal social rank, of equal education, wealth and advantages, our sentiments
have instinctively been of an opposite description. Instead of commanding
our esteem, he has inspired in us emotions of dislike. Yet two
years, nay a much shorter period, before he would equally have challenged
our regard and enlisted our interest. He had been, from his eighteenth up
to his twenty-first year, the confidential clerk of his relative, Mr. Ward, a
distinguished merchant in New York. He had gone with him, after he had
graduated at that early age, at the request of his father, who desired him to
become a merchant. As he had stated to Edward, he had assiduously devoted
himself to his business, and won the confidence of his uncle. But
being ambitious of political distinction, to which he saw that the bar was
the chief avenue, on arriving at maturity he left his uncle, returned to his
native place, a beautiful seat situated half a mile below that of Mrs. Austin,
and entered upon the study of the law with that assiduity which had characterised
him in his mercantile pursuit. Edward being at this time at
home with his mother, their youthful intimacy was renewed, and Waldron
was then worthy of the friendship of his noble friend. But this
intimacy was destined soon to be impaired, and finally to terminate. Ralph
had hitherto never freely indulged in the rich wines which it was his father's
habit to have daily upon his table. He was temperate in the midst of temtation.
But one day a fashionable young gentlemen from New York, a
cousin, came to pay him a visit of two or three days. This person's name
was Witt de Wittelsey, and he prided himself much upon his aristocratic
connections. He was exceedingly dissipated, and had nearly expended a
few thousands which had been left to him. Ralph, though he had seldom associated
with him in New York, was gratified to see him, and they went hunting
together, De Witt having brought a very fine blooded setter with him.
It chanced, that being fatigued with rambling the woods, they came to a
spring, at which Ralph proposed they should drink and refresh themselves.

`Water? Pah!' ejaculated the young roue. `I have something here,
Ralph, better than that,' and taking from his pocket the very flask Ralph had
afterwards shown to Edward, he shook it with a gratified air. `This is my
pocket pistol; I never go without it. One gets such detestable liquor in the
country, a fellow can't trust himself ten miles out of town without preparing
himself; come, Ralph, here is a bumper!'

`Is it wine?'

`No, pure Cogniac!' and he offered the brimming gobblet to the lips of
his friend.

`Thank you, De Witt; but I have never drunk any thing stronger than
wine.'

`Then you are a rare bird. Wine! pah! That will do for the women.
Men drink something stronger! come, try it. It won't hurt you. It is of
the color of ruby, and as smooth as olive oil. It was imported expressly for
a clique, and is confoundedly expensive; but then it is nectar! Come, I'll
set you the example; your health, Ralph!'

And the young man emptied the silver cup which formed a cap to the
flask, at a draught.

`Now try one; it puts life into a fellow! come!'

`I had rather not. If it was wine I should not object, though I drink wine
only at dinner.'

`If you are accustomed to drink wine, Waldron,' said Wittelsey, determined,
now that he saw his friend was a temperate man, to commit him to
intemperance, (for the drinker would have all drinkers,) `it won't harm you.
One glass of brandy is not worse than two of wine! It will do you more
good. Take it, or, by Jupiter, I shall feel hurt, and take it as a slight. It
looks as if you was condemning me for what I conceive there can be no
harm in!'

`Well, I will to oblige you, De Witt,' answered Ralph with hesitation;
and receiving the silver cup, he placed the draught to his lips; but finding
it too strong he would have declined it, but his friend carefully pouring a
part back into the flask filled it up with water from the cool spring, degrading
God's free gift to the basest uses, and then the victim received it and
drank it off. De Witt eagerly watched his countenance.

`Is'nt it very fine? I am sure you will never drink flat wine after having
tasted this?'

`It is certainly very pleasant.'

`I am surprised you never have drank brandy! I am proud in having
the honor, my dear boy, of initiating you. You see I would'nt have urged
you; but I knew how you would like it.'

It is too strong to be agreeable; I prefer wine.'

`You will soon get used to it; a mere tickle of the palate. To enjoy it,
you should take it pure. Water spoils it.'

The two young men proceeded homeward. Before they reached the
house a shower came suddenly up and wet them thoroughly. Water does
temperate folks no harm, but it is doubtless, dangerous to drunkards; for
Wittelsey gave the shower as an excuse for taking something inside.—
Ralph having once drank was the more easily persuaded to repeat the
draught, especially as his friend assurred him, upon his honor, that unless
he did so he would catch cold. But Ralph had had many a severer ducking
than that without any injurious effects, and yet he had taking nothing
to prevent them. De Witt's arguments were, however, irresistable. They
were, virtually, `we must either take a cold or take a drink. A drink is far
pleasanter, so let us take a drink. We can't take two things at once!

Waldron drank with him, and without water, his cousin contending that
they had quite enough of that fluid without, to put any in. So he drank
with him, that he might not take cold; for there is a wonderful plausibility
in the argument of a man who would tempt a temperate friend to drink;
and he who listens is too apt to see their plausibility, and finally to sacrifice
his own judgment and experience to the sophistry which seeks his downfall.
So Ralph listened, drank, `and became as one of them.' Would he
have yielded so easily if his father's wine cup had not gone before his cousin's
goblet? From that day, during Wittelsey's visits, he constantly drank
with him; for he loved the taste, and the after effects of the brandy upon

his blood and brain. It inspired him with an exhilaration of spirits and
feeling, that was novel and delightful. It had upon him the effect, in some
sort, of opium, and he enjoyed the state of high excitement and animation,
which it induced. As this condition, however, passed away, with the exhaustion
of the alcoholic virus, and left a corresponding flatulency of feeling,
and dullness of mind, attended with a strange, indescribable weight upon
the thoughts, he sought to restore the pleasing state, and revise his
agreeable emotions by new draughts. Wittelsey had made him a present
of the flask, and had promised to send him a demijohn of the brandy; a
small one filled with his `nector,' being always carried by him in his trunk!
After he left, Waldron took his gun to go to the woods, his flask in his
pocket. He did not go so much to hunt, as to heat himself by exercise, and
induce that fatigue, which would render, as he knew by experience, a pull
at his brandy-flask, so refreshing and agreeable. After half an hour's walk,
he sat down, fatigued, beneath a tree, and filling his cup drank it full, and
with a sensible emotion of pleasure, that would have rejoiced the heart of
Wittelsey, and made heavy the soul of the philanthropist.

For a young man, first deliberately to fatigue himself to enhance the enjoyment
of a draught of strong waters, and then retire to a secluded spot in
the forest to drink alone, merely for the false animation and fatal exhiliration
he knew it would produce, was a strong proof that the habit of intemperance
had fastened upon his life with the fangs of an adder. It had truly
became a habit, short as the time was in which he had formed it; for in four
days any habit may be formed and interwoven into the character of the
man, be the habit good or bad. Every person's experience will bear testimony
to the truth of this assertion. The habit which Ralph had formed
while Wittelsey was with him, was irresistably confirmed upon him in his
absence; for he had said within himself, when he discovered he was liking
brandy, `I will drink it only while he is here, and with him; when he is
gone I shall abandon it!'

But resolutions that are not strong in the temperate hour, are not likely to
be after brandy has passed the lips; it takes a place within the man, and
pleads for itself. Out of the mouth the monster has no power; within it,
he is a subtle arguer on his own behalf; and strong in virtue and moral
power, must he be who can resist him, and stand in his integrity as he stood
before.

A second time Ralph emptied his silver cup, and then proceeded homeward.
As he was coming out of the wood, he beheld coming along the path,
with his rods and wires, Edward Austin. Suddenly he coloured, stopped
and looked around, as if he would have avoided the meeting. His looks
were confused and guilty. Already he began to be sensible of his degradation.
He was sensible he was considerably under the influence of what he
had taken. He stopped and asked himself if he were not steady enough in
step, and sober enough in countenance to meet his friend, without his suspecting
any thing. He summoned all his self possession, and being conscious
that his step was a little rambling, he affected a lameness to conceal
any disposition to stagger, for the path had been for some minutes a little
tremulous to his eyes, as he looked before him. Assuming then a bold,
confident air, and thrusting a peppermint under his tongue, (a secret taught
him by Wellesley to conceal the smell of spirits on his breath,) and limping
a little, supported by his gun, he encountered his friend, whom, before this,
he had never feared to meet eye to eye.

`Ah, Ralph, have you hurt yourself?' asked Edward kindly.

`Yes—a little; it is a mere trifle. Going a fishing, my boy?' he continued
in a higher tone than was needful.

`Yes. But why have I not seen you of late?'

`Why, De Witt, you know, has been with me, and—'

`But he has been gone a week!'

`Yes; fine fellow he is, Ned you should have cultivated his acquaintance.
You'd liked him!'

`I did not like him. He seemed a very dissipated and unprincipled
young man. His countenance showed intemperance in strong lines.'

`De Witt takes a little—a little, but he don't make a practice of it; oh
no! He's a d, d,—I mean a confounded cle—clever fellow! I did'nt mean,
to swear, oh no!'

Edward, by this time had discovered that his friend was under the influence
of liquor, though trying to disguise it. His heavy, and yet restless eye,
his flushed cheeks, and slightly thick articulation, confirmed this condition.
He also inhaled the brandy-tainted air which he breathed. He was transfixed
with surprise, and regarded him in silence, with mingled pity and
amazement. Waldron saw, and rightly interpreted his looks. He would
have said something to defend himself, but fearing he should betray his condition
farther if he spoke, for he was a ware he had not the full control of
his words, he pretended to feel pain in his foot, and screwing up his features,
he said he must hurry home! From that time he avoided Edward's
company, from a dread of exposing his habit to him, and from an instinctive
feeling that he was not fit to associate with him. Drinkers like the society
only of their kind; for they reproach not one another for alcoholic breaths,
and have charity if a brother staggers, or utters his words thick. Edward,
after meeting him two or three times more, and each time detecting the
signs of indulgence, gradually withdrew from his society; and latterly when
they met it was usually with a cold bow, or a few indifferent words. In
the meanwhile the habit grew upon him. He neglected his studies, for
drinking kept him constantly in a restless condition of the mind, and application
became impossible to him. He took to reading books that would entertain
and divert him from himself, and when these failed he would drink
a glass of brandy and water. His habit he kept as secret as he could. He
never let any one see him drink; and being always careful to disguise his
breath, and to avoid society when at all overcome, he passed unsuspected,
except by those who, like Austin, were not deceived in the appearances
with which the wretched man, who finds his habit growing upon him, vainly
and ingeniously strives to hide it from the world.

Finding that he could not apply himself to study, he determined to return
to business; and, conscious that his habit was becoming fixed, he hoped,
(all hope so at first!) that he would be able to break it off by change of
place and associations. He, therefore, opened a correspondence with his
uncle, and Mr. Ward being wholly ignorant of the alteration in his habits,
gladly embraced the opportunity of taking him in as a partner. Ralph had
a thousand dollars, a legacy from an aunt, and five thousand given him by
his father. This sum he intended to add to the capital. The day following
the interview with Edward by the trout stream, he accordingly departed by
stage for the metropolis.

Edward had also determined to embark his fortunes in the city. He had
at interest five thousand dollars, which with some other sums, amounted to
about six thousand dollars. The villa with the land which he would inherit
on his mother's decease was worth about fifteen thousand dollars, though
it was still lying under a heavy mortgage, which had been existing since
his father's death. To lift this weight from his inheritance, and increase
his patrimony, he resolved to become a merchant. He had written Mr.
Laurens to this effect, and received in reply such encouragement as determined
him to proceed to the city with as little delay as possible. Anne
Laurens left with her father a day or two after his return from his angling
with Roundy, while Edward promised to follow in a few days. Mr. Laurens
had no suspicions that his daughter had lost her heart during the four

weeks he had left her with Mrs. Austin; although the knowledge of the
facts would have gratified him a little; for he was well acquainted with the
correct character and integrity of principle of Edward, and had more than
once thought over the prospect of a match between him and his daughter.
Perhaps, it was partly to favor this wish that he planned this visit to the
residence of Mrs. Austin.

They had driven but a little while along the road, after leaving the
grounds of Hart-Hall, when Mr. Laurens assuming a dry manner, but with
a slight twinkle in his eye, said

`Well, Anne, you have had a pleasant visit.'

`Yes, father.'

`Mrs. Austin is a fine woman.'

`Yes; I like her very much.'

Having thus answered, Annette trembled, turned pale, and then blushed
very deeply; for, thought she the next question will be about Edward.—
And the next question was about Edward.

`You saw something of her son? A fine young man. How do you like
him?'

`Pretty well, sir!'

`Eh? only pretty well. Methinks he is a young gentlemen that might
make an impression upon young ladies' hearts. Only pretty well?'

`I think he is pleasant, sir!'

`That is better!'

`He is very agreeable at times.'

`Is he?'

`Quite so. He converses well.'

`Does!'

`I have hardly known a person who can render himself so agreeable.'

`No!'

`He is very handsome too!'

`Ah, ah!'

`And intelligent.'

`And any thing more?' inquired her father with a quizzical glance out of
the corner of his eye.

`He told me he loved me,' she replied, blushing yet laughing and effecting
a bewitching simplicity.

`He did, ah?'

`Yes sir,' she answered demurely.

`And what did you reply, hey?'

`That I also loved him very much.'

`The devil you did!'

`Yes sir!'

`So you like him pretty well?'

`Pretty well, sir!'

`Ah, you minx, you have been making hay, I see! Well, you have behaved
like a good girl. So he told you he loved you, and you told him so!
What more happened?'

`We promised to love each other till death, and be married as soon as
my dear papa would give his consent.'

`Very well put in. So you and Edward are engaged, Anne?' said he seriously.

`Yes father,' she answered in a faltering voice, her eyes drooping, and
sweet blushes mantling her cheeks.

`Then I am happy. I wished this very thing. Edward is a noble young
man, and will make you a good husband.'

Anne embraced her father with grateful affection, and her eye brightened
with pride and happiness.

`But you will have to be content with being lovers a while,' he said gravely.
`Edward has to get into business, and establish himself before he thinks
of marrying.'

`How long before it will be, do you think, dear father?' she asked demurely.

`A year!'

`A year? that is an age!' she said, clasping her hands together with surprise.

`Well, be a good girl and perhaps we may say six months,' he said smiling.
He received a kiss upon his cheek for this; and when he said it might
be no more than three months, he was nearly smothered.