‘That is again entirely the individual view of the question,’ said the curate gently, ‘and in that I grant you—but don’t you think we might take a more extended range when the question is a public one? I don’t in the least object to that, far from it. I know there is nothing so good as the way of working by individualities, of getting hold of Tom, and Will, and Peter, one by one, the door-to-door system, as I may call it; but when you have a great public evil like that of intemperance, don’t you think, Miss Florence, it is well, while not leaving the other undone, to try what some large public method will do——’
‘Like Father Matthew’s?’ said Florence.
‘Father Matthew was too sensational,’ said Mr. Osborne; ‘and it is impossible to tell how much fiction there was in such a movement. Indeed, I rather think the one by one system is the best; but to interest them en masse, to make them see what a thing it would be for all their families, and themselves, of course, and how much purer and more rational pleasure they would get out of their lives——’
‘Do you think they learn in that way?’
‘If they don’t, I do not know how they are to learn.’
‘But they all know beforehand how dreadful a thing it is—they know it’s destruction. Oh, don’t you think they know far better than we do, since they see it before them every day, and all day long?’
‘What would you do, then,’ said the curate, ‘to bring this home to them? I’ve got all the statistics. Of course they know, for misfortune brings it home; but if we could fully convince them what a prodigious evil it is over all the country, how many better things they could do with the money. I remember proving to a man once, that if he only put by every penny he had been accustomed to spend in drink, he could buy his cottage, he could have a little garden of his own, and a pig, and I don’t know how many things which every man prizes——’
‘And did he do it?’ said Florence.
‘Do it!’ said the curate. ‘Of course that meant a course of years. One could not tell whether he did it or not, till a long time was passed. Well, no,’ he added, with a sigh, ‘I am trying to deceive you, not to admit my failure; he did not do it. He went on just in his old way, and almost killed his wife, and starved his children, till he died.’
‘Is it true, Mr. Osborne,’ said Florence, ‘that you said to old Mrs. Lloyd, if she would give up her beer, and take the pledge, you would do so too?’