Women, Temperance, and Domesticity – A Close Reading Guide from America in Class 4
keep him close to her] —and her success was perfect. Up to the age of sixteen or seventeen, I do not think he had a desire for other
companionship than that of his mother. But this, you know, could not last. e boy’s maturing thought must go beyond the home
and social circle. e great world, that he was soon to enter, was before him; and through loopholes that opened here and there he
obtained partial glimpses of what was beyond. To step forth into this world, where he was soon to be a busy actor and worker, and to
step forth alone, next came in the natural order of progress. How his mother trembled with anxiety, as she saw him leave her side! Of
the dangers that would surround his path, she knew too well; and these were magnied by her fears — at least so I often said to her.
Alas! how far the sad reality has outrun her most fearful anticipations.
“When Willy was eighteen — he was then reading law [studying to be a lawyer] — I think I never saw a young man of fairer promise.
As I have often heard it remarked of him, he did not appear to have a single fault. But he had a dangerous gift — rare conversational
powers, united with great urbanity of manner. Every one who made his acquaintance became charmed with his society [friendliness];
and he soon found himself surrounded by a circle of young men, some of whom were not the best companions he might have chosen.
Still, his own pure instincts and honorable principles were his safeguard; and I never have believed that any social allurements would
have drawn him away from the right path, if this accursed tavern had not been opened by Slade [the owner of the Sickle and Sheaf].”
“ere was a tavern here before the Sickle and Sheaf was opened?” said I.
“Oh, yes. But it was badly kept, and the bar-room visitors were of the lowest class. No respectable young man in Cedarville would
have been seen there. It oered no temptations to one moving in Willy’s circle. But the opening of the Sickle and Sheaf formed a new
era. Judge Hammond — himself not the purest man in the world, I’m afraid — gave his countenance to the establishment, and talked
of Simon Slade as an enterprising man who ought to be encouraged. Judge Lyman and other men of position in Cedarville followed
his bad example; and the bar-room of the Sickle and Sheaf was at once voted respectable. At all times of the day and evening you
could see the ower of our young men going in and out, sitting in front of the bar-room, or talking hand-and-glove with the landlord,
who, from a worthy miller [Simon Slade, the owner of the tavern, had once owned a gristmill], regarded as well enough in his place,
was suddenly elevated into a man of importance, whom the best in the village were delighted to honor.
“In the beginning, Willy went with the tide, and, in an incredibly short period, was acquiring a fondness for drink that startled
and alarmed his friends. In going in through Slade’s open door, he entered the downward way, and has been moving onward with
eet footsteps ever since. e ery poison inamed his mind, at the same time that it dimmed his noble perceptions. Fondness for
mere pleasure followed, and this led him into various sensual indulgences [physical pleasures], and exciting modes of passing the
time. Every one liked him — he was so free, so companionable, and so generous — and almost every one encouraged, rather than
repressed, his dangerous proclivities. Even his father, for a time, treated the matter lightly, as only the rst ush of young life. ‘I
commenced sowing my wild oats at quite as early an age,’ I have heard him say. ‘He’ll cool o, and do well enough. Never fear.’ But
his mother was in a state of painful alarm from the beginning. Her truer instincts, made doubly acute by her yearning love, perceived
the imminent danger, and in all possible ways did she seek to lure him from the path in which he was moving at so rapid a pace.
Willy was always very much attached to his mother, and her inuence over him was strong; but in this case he regarded her fears as
chimerical. e way in which he walked was, to him, so pleasant, and the companions of his journey so delightful, that he could not
believe in the prophesied evil; and when his mother talked to him in her warning voice, and with a sad countenance, he smiled at her
concern, and made light of [joked about] her fears.
“And so it went on, month after month, and year after year, until the young man’s sad declensions [declining morals] were the town
talk. In order to throw his mind into a new channel — to awaken, if possible, a new and better interest in life — his father ventured
upon the doubtful experiment we spoke of yesterday; that of placing capital in his hands, and making him an equal partner in the
business of distilling and cotton-spinning. e disastrous — I might say disgraceful — result you know. e young man squandered
his own capital and heavily embarrassed his father [caused his father to lose a lot of money].
“e eect of all this upon Mrs. Hammond has been painful in the extreme. We can only dimly imagine the terrible suering
through which she has passed. Her present aberration was rst visible after a long period of sleeplessness, occasioned by distress of
mind. During the whole of two weeks, I am told, she did not close her eyes; the most of that time walking the oor of her chamber,
and weeping. Powerful anodynes [medicines], frequently repeated, at length brought relief. But, when she awoke from a prolonged
period of unconsciousness, the brightness of her reason was gone. Since then, she has never been clearly conscious of what was passing
around her, and well for her, I have sometimes thought it was, for even obscurity of intellect is a blessing in her case. Ah, me! I always
get the heart-ache, when I think of her.”
“Did not this event startle the young man from his fatal dream, if I may so call his mad infatuation [object of desire or admiration]?”
I asked.
“No. He loved his mother, and was deeply aicted [hurt] by the calamity; but it seemed as if he could not stop. Some terrible
necessity appeared to be impelling him onward. If he formed good resolutions [if he tried to improve] — and I doubt not that he
did — they were blown away like threads of gossamer [lm of cobwebs], the moment he came within the sphere of old associations
