"If I cannot control myself without a pledge, I shall never do so _with_
one."
"No, not by the pledge only, or chiefly. But it would be a help. It
would be a check. It would be a something to appeal to, as being an
open declaration of what you were resolved to keep to. But oh, I fear
that you do not wish to put such a restraint upon yourself, as you must
do, if you would really be what you would have us believe you mean to
be. Were it otherwise, you would not hesitate--for Mary's sake, for
your own peace's sake--to renounce at once, and for ever, and entirely,
that drink which has already been to you, ay, and to us all, a source of
so much misery. Dear Frank, I say it once for all, I never could allow
my beloved child to cast in her lot for life with one of whom I have
reason to fear that he is, or may become, the slave of that drink which
has driven peace, and joy, and comfort out of thousands of English
homes."
"But why should you fear this of me?" persisted Frank. "Within the last
three years I have fallen twice. I do not deny it. But surely two
falls in that long space of time do not show a habit of excess. On each
occasion I was overcome--taken off my guard. I have now learned, and
thoroughly, I trust, the lesson to be watchful. I only ask for one more
trial. I want to show Mary, I want to show you all, that I can still be
strictly sober, strictly moderate, without total abstinence, without a
pledge. And oh, do not let it be said that the mother and daughter of a
minister of the gospel were less ready to pardon than their heavenly
Master."
"Oh, Frank," cried Mrs Oliphant, "how grievously you mistake us!
Pardon! Yes; what are we that we should withhold pity or pardon? But
surely it is one thing to forgive, and quite another thing to entrust
one's happiness, or the happiness of one's child, into hands which we
dare not hope can steadily maintain it. I can say no more. Write to
Mary, and she will answer you calmly and fully by letter, as she could
not do were she to meet you now."
Poor Frank! Why did he not renounce at once that enticing stimulant
which had already worked him so much misery? Was it worth while letting
so paltry an indulgence separate for ever between himself and one whom
he so dearly loved? Why would he not pledge himself at once to total
abstinence? There was a time when he would have done so--that time when
he spoke on the subject to the rector, and made the attempt at his own
home. But now a spell seemed to hold him back. He would not or could
not see the necessity of relinquishing that which he had come to crave
and love more than his daily food.
"I must use it," he said to himself; "but there is no reason why I
should abuse it."
He wrote to Mary and told her so. He told her that he was now fully
alive to his own weakness, and that she might depend on his watchfulness
and moderation, imploring her to give him one, and but one, more trial.
He would watch, he would strive, he would pray to be strictly moderate.
She should never have cause to reproach him again.