"How singular!" said Mrs. L-;"she reminds me all the time of Augusta Howard. You remember her, my dear?" "Yes, poor thing! and her husband too. That was a shocking affair of Edward Howard's. I hear that he became an intemperate, worthless fellow. Who could have thought it!" "But you recollect, my dear," said Mrs. L, "I predicted it six months before it was talked of. You remember, at the wineparty which you gave after Mary's wedding, he was so excited that he was hardly decent. I mentioned then that he was getting into dangerous ways. But he was such an excitable creature, that two or three glasses would put him quite beside himself. And there is George Eldon, who takes off his ten or twelve glasses, and no one suspects it." "Well, it was a great pity," replied Mr. L—; "Howard was worth a dozen George Eldons." "Do you suppose," said Dallas, who had listened thus far in silence, "that if he had moved in a circle where it was the universal custom to banish all stimulating drinks, he would thus have fallen ?" "I cannot say," said Mr. Lnot." "perhaps might as well try to reclaim the lost in hell. Do you think," he continued, in a wild, deter mined manner, "do you think I do not know all you can tell me? I have it all by heart, sir; no one can preach such discourses as I can on this subject: I know all-believe all-as the devils believe and tremble." "Ay, but," said Dallas, "to you there is hope; you are not to ruin yourself for ever." "And who the devil are you, to speak to me in this way?" said Edward, looking up from his sullen despair with a gleam of curiosity, if not of hope. "God's messenger to you, Edward Howard," said Dallas, fixing his keen eye upon him solemnly; "to you, Edward Howard, who have thrown away talents, hope, and health-who have blasted the heart of your wife, and beggared your suffering children. To you I am the messenger of your God-by me he offers health, and hope, and self-respect, and the regard of your fellow-men. You may heal the broken heart of your wife, and give back a father to your helpless children. Think of it, Howard: what if it were possible? only suppose it. What would it be again to feel yourself a man, beloved and respected as you once were, with a happy home, a cheerful wife, and smiling little ones? Think how you could repay your poor wife for all her tears! What hinders you from gaining all this?" "Just what hindered the rich man in hell between me and all that is good; my wife, my children, my hope of heaven, are all on the other side." "Ay, but this gulf can be passed: Howard, what would you give to be a temperate man ?" thought for a moment, and burst into tears. "What would I give?" said Howard-he Mr. Dallas was a gentleman of fortune and leisure, and of an ardent and enthusiastic temperament. Whatever engaged him absorbed his whole soul; and of late years his mind had become deeply engaged in schemes of phi-between us there is a great gulf fixed;' it lies lanthropy for the improvement of his fellowmen. He had, in his benevolent ministrations, often passed the dwelling of Edward, and was deeply interested in the pale and patient wife and mother. He made acquaintance with her through the aid of her children, and in one way and another, learned particulars of their history that awakened the deepest interest and concern. None but a mind as sanguine as his would have dreamed of attempting to remedy such hopeless misery by the reformation of him who was its cause. But such a plan had actually occurred to him. The remarks of Mr. and Mrs. L- recalled the idea, and he soon found that his projected protegée was the very Edward Howard whose early history was thus disclosed. He learned all the minutiæ from these his early associates without disclosing his aim, and left them still more resolved upon his benevolent plan. "Ah, I see how it is," said Dallas; you need a friend, and God has sent you one." "What can you do for me, Mr. Dallas ?" said Edward, in a tone of wonder at the confidence of his assurances. "I will tell you what I can do: I can take you to my house, and give you a room, and watch over you until the strongest temptations are past I can give you business again. I can do all for you that needs to be done, if you will give yourself to my care.” "Oh God of mercy!" exclaimed the unhappy man, "is there hope for me? I cannot believe it possible; but take me where you choose-I will follow and obey. A few hours witnessed the transfer of the lost husband to one of the retired apartments in the elegant mansion of Dallas, where he found his anxious and grateful wife still stationed, as his watchful guardian. Medical treatment, healthful exercise, useful employment, simple food, and pure water, were connected with a personal supervision by Dallas, which, while gently and politely sustained, at first amounted to actual imprisonment. For a time the reaction from the sudden suspension of habitual stimulus was dreadful, and even with tears did the unhappy man entreat to be permitted to abandon the undertaking. But the resolute steadiness of Dallas and the tender entreaties of his wife prevailed. It is true that he might be said to be saved "so as by fire!" for a fever, and a long and fierce dekrium, wasted him almost to the borders of the grave. But at length the struggle between life and death was over, and though it left him stretched on the bed of sickness, emaciated and weak, yet he was restored to his right mind, and was conscious of returning health. Let any one who has laid a friend in the grave, and known what it is to have the heart fail with longing for them day by day, imagine the dreamy and unreal joy of Augusta when she began again to see in Edward the husband so long lost to her. It was as if the grave had given back the dead! "Augusta!" said he, faintly, as, after a long and quiet sleep, he awoke free from delirium. She bent over him. "Augusta, I am redeemed ———I am saved—I feel in myself that I am made whole." The high heart of Augusta melted at these words. She trembled and wept. Her husband wept also, and after a pause he continued: "It is more than being restored to this life -I feel that it is the beginning of eternal life. It is the Saviour who sought me out, and I know that he is able to keep me from falling." But we will draw a veil over a scene which words have little power to paint. "Pray, Dallas," said Mr. L-, one day, "who is that fine-looking young man whom I met in your office this morning? I thought his face seemed familiar." "It is a Mr.Howard-a young lawyer whom I have lately taken into business with me." "Strange! Impossible!" said Mr. L. "Surely this cannot be the Howard that I once knew?" "I believe it is," said Mr. Dallas. "Why, I thought he was gone-dead and done over, long ago, with intemperance." "He was so; few have ever sunk lower; but he now promises even to outdo all that was hoped of him." "Strange! Why, Dallas, what did bring about this change?" "I feel a delicacy in mentioning how it came about, to you, Mr. L, as there undoubtedly was a great deal of interference with other men's matters' in the business. In short, the young man fell in the way of one of those meddlesome fellows, who go prowling about, distributing tracts, forming temperance societies, and all that sort of stuff." "Come, come, Dallas," said Mr. Lsmiling, "I must hear the story, for all that." "First call with me at this house," said Dallas, stopping before the door of a neat little mansion. They were soon in the parlour. The first sight that met their eyes was Edward Howard, who, with a check glowing with exercise, was tossing aloft a blooming boy, while Augusta was watching his motions, her face radiant with smiles. "Mr. and Mrs. Howard, this is Mr. Lan old acquaintance, I believe." There was a moment of mutual embarrassment and surprise, soon dispelled, however, by the frank cordiality of Edward. Mr. L-sat down, but could scarce withdraw his eyes from the countenance of Augusta, in whose eloquent face he recognised a beauty of a higher cast than even in her earlier days. He glanced about the apartment. It was simply, but tastefully furnished, and wore an air of retired, domestic comfort. There were books, engravings, and musical instruments. Above all, there were four happy, healthy-looking children, pursuing studies or sports at the farther end of the room. END OF TEMPERANCE AND INTEMPERANCE. Printed by BRUCE and WYLD, 84, Farringdon-street. SELF-CONTROL. A NOVEL. BY MRS. BRUNTON, AUTHOR OF "DISCIPLINE," ETC. His warfare is within. There unfatigued And there obtains fresh triumphs o'er himself, COWPER. TO WHICH IS ADDED, THE SOLITARY. A ROMANCE OF THE INDIAN BORDER. IN BRUCE, 84, FARRINGDON STREET, AND SOLD BY ALL BOOKSELLERS 1844. SELF-CONTROL. ADVERTISEMENT PREFIXED TO THE SECOND EDITION. In presenting to the public another edition of Self-Control, the Author gratefully acknowledges the indulgence which her first literary attempt has received. The approbation with which it has been honoured, flatters her with the hope, that her little work may not entirely fail in the purposes of usefulness, which were her chief aim in its publication. It was on a still evening in June, that Laura The commendations bestowed on Self-Control Montreville left her father's cottage, in the little have been by no means unqualified. Strictures village of Glenalbert, to begin a solitary ramble. have been made upon various parts of the narra- Her countenance was mournful, and her step tive, and objections stated against the probability | languid; for her health had suffered from conof some of the incidents. Had these censures finement, and her spirits were exhausted by been pointed at the lessons which the tale was long attendance on the deathbed of her mother, intended to convey, the Author would have felt That labour of duty had been lessened by no it her duty, as well as her earnest desire, to re- extrinsic circumstance; for Lady Harriet Monmore them. Had the characters described intreville was a peevish and refractory patient; Self-Control been the portraits of living originals, her disorder had been tedious as well as hopeless, she might have been bound to avail herself of and the humble establishment of a half-pay any hint for rendering the likeness more com- officer furnished no one who could lighten to plete. But where no higher interest is at stake Laura the burden of constant attendance. But than the credit of her own powers of invention, Laura had in herself that which softens all she feels herself at greater liberty; and some- difficulty, and beguiles all fatigue-an active times where she might have bowed to superior mind, a strong sense of duty, and the habit of taste and experience, she has been unable to re- meeting and overcoming adverse circumstances. concile contradictory authorities. She is not even sure of her right to make any material alteration upon a work of fiction. Perhaps they who have before honoured it with their notice, are entitled on a second perusal to find, along with the same qualities which conciliated their favour, the same faults which amused their critical sagacity. The language has been changed in various instances, either where the expression was faulty, or where it has been said to bear a meaning which it was not intended to convey. A few sentences have been omitted at the suggestion of a lady, to whose powerful genius and cultivated taste the Author would willingly have shown still greater deference; and for many of the verbal alterations she is obliged to the kindness of a friend. Since the publication, she has observed that part of Hargrave's miserable scale of duties (Vol. I. page 89) is borrowed from a Captain Montreville was of a family ancient and respectable, but so far from affluent, that, at the death of his father, he found his wealth, as a younger son, to consist only of £500, besides the emoluments arising from a lieutenancy in a regiment of foot. Nature had given him a fine person and a pleasing address; and to the national opinions of a Scottish mother, he was indebted for an education, of which the liberality suited better with his birth than with his fortunes. He was in London negociating for the purchase of a company, when he accidentally met with Lady Harriet Bircham. Her person was showy, and her manners had the glare, even more than the polish of high life. She had a lively imagination, and some wit; had read a little, and knew how to show that little to advantage. The fine person of Montreville soon awakened the * Cœlebs. vol. II. page 100. 10th Edit. |