Stories and Sketches | Page 5

notwithstanding the dissipated habits of the husband and father they
still possessed a home, although many of the comforts of former days
had disappeared before the blighting influence of the demon of
intemperance. After being dismissed by his employers Mr. Harland
seemed to lose all respect for himself, as well as for his wife and
children, and, but for the unceasing toil of the patient mother, his
children might have often asked for bread in vain.
So low had he now fallen that almost every evening found him in some
low haunt of drunkenness and dissipation; and often upon returning to
his home he would assail his gentle wife with harsh and unfeeling
language. Many there were who advised Mrs. Harland to return with
her children to her parents, who were in affluent circumstances, but she
still cherished the hope that he would yet reform. "I pray daily for my
erring husband," she would often say, "and I feel an assurance that,
sooner or later, my prayers will be answered; and I cannot feel it my
duty to forsake him." But on this evening, as she sits thus alone, her
mind is filled with thoughts of the past, which she cannot help
contrasting with the miserable present, till her reverie is interrupted by
the sound of approaching footsteps, which she soon recognizes as those
of her husband; she is much surprised--for it is long, very long, since he
has returned to his home at so early an hour--and, as he enters the room,
her surprise increases when she perceives that he is perfectly sober. As
he met her wondering gaze a kind expression rested upon his
countenance, and he addressed her saying: "I do not wonder at your
astonishment, dear Mary, when I call to mind my past misconduct. I
have been a fiend in human shape thus to ill-treat and neglect the best
of wives; but I have made a resolve, 'God helping' me, that it shall be so
no longer." Seating himself by her side, he continued: "If you will
listen to me, Mary, I will tell you what caused me to form this
resolution. When I went out this evening I at once made my way to the
public house, where I have spent so much of my time and money.
Money, I had none, and, worse than this, was owing the landlord a

heavy bill. Of late he had assailed me with duns every time I entered
the house; but so craving was the appetite for drink that each returning
evening still found me among the loungers in the bar-room, trusting to
my chance of meeting with some companion who would call for a treat.
It so happened that to-night none of my cronies were present. When the
landlord found that I was still unable to settle the 'old score,' as he
termed it, he abused me in no measured terms; but I still lingered in
sight of the coveted beverage; and knowing my inability to obtain it my
appetite increased in proportion. At length, I approached the bar, and
begged him to trust me for one more glass of brandy. I will not wound
your ears by repeating his reply; and he concluded by ordering me from
the house, telling me also never to enter it again till I was able to settle
the long score already against me. The fact that I had been turned from
the door, together with his taunting language, stung me almost to
madness. I strolled along, scarce knowing or caring whither, till I found
myself beyond the limits of the city; and seating myself by the roadside
I gazed in silent abstraction over the moonlit landscape; and as I sat
thus I fell into a deep reverie. Memory carried me back to my youthful
days, when everything was bright with joyous hope and youthful
ambition. I recalled the time when I wooed you from your pleasant
country home, and led you to the altar, a fair young bride, and there
pledged myself before God and man to love, honour and cherish you,
till death should us part. Suddenly, as if uttered by an audible voice, I
seemed to hear the words 'William Harland, how have you kept your
vows?' At that moment I seemed to suddenly awake to a full sense of
my fallen and degraded position. What madness, thought I, has
possessed me all this time, thus to ruin myself and those dear to me?
And for what? for the mere indulgence of a debasing appetite. I rose to
my feet, and my step grew light with my new-formed resolution, that I
would break the slavish fetters that had so long held me captive; and
now, my dear wife, if you can, forgive the past and aid me in