or all intoxicating liquors,
which I hope not even his father or his father's friends will be able to
overcome. He was inordinately fond of them for so young a creature, and,
remembering my unfortunate father as well as his, I dreaded the
consequences of such a taste. But if I had stinted him, in his usual
quantity of wine, or forbidden him to taste it altogether, that would
only have increased his partiality for it, and made him regard it as a
greater treat than ever. I therefore gave him quite as much as his
father was accustomed to allow him; as much, indeed, as he desired to
have--but into every glass I surreptitiously introduced a small quantity
of tartar-emetic, just enough to produce inevitable nausea and depression
without positive sickness. Finding such disagreeable consequences
invariably to result from this indulgence, he soon grew weary of it, but
the more he shrank from the daily treat the more I pressed it upon him,
till his reluctance was strengthened to perfect abhorrence. When he was
thoroughly disgusted with every kind of wine, I allowed him, at his own
request, to try brandy-and-water, and then gin-and-water, for the little
toper was familiar with them all, and I was determined that all should be
equally hateful to him. This I have now effected; and since he declares
that the taste, the smell, the sight of any one of them is sufficient to
make him sick, I have given up teasing him about them, except now and
then as objects of terror in cases of misbehaviour. 'Arthur, if you're
not a good boy I shall give you a glass of wine,' or 'Now, Arthur, if you
say that again you shall have some brandy-and-water,' is as good as any
other threat; and once or twice, when he was sick, I have obliged the
poor child to swallow a little wine-and-water without the tartar-emetic,
by way of medicine; and this practice I intend to continue for some time
to come; not that I think it of any real service in a physical sense, but
because I am determined to enlist all the powers of association in my
service; I wish this aversion to be so deeply grounded in his nature that
nothing in after-life may be able to overcome it.
Thus, I flatter myself, I shall secure him from this one vice; and for
the rest, if on his father's return I find reason to apprehend that my
good lessons will be all destroyed--if Mr. Huntingdon commence again the
game of teaching the child to hate and despise his mother, and emulate
his father's wicked
|