“I don’t know, Fannie. He’s only one step from _delirium tremens_. He ought to go at once to an inebriate asylum.” Mrs. Forest was shocked at the idea. “It couldn’t be so bad as that. She would have a long talk with him. Doubtless he had met old friends and they had induced him to drink.” “My dear, he is already over the bay. His nerves are shattered. He has no power to save himself. Talk to him! I should as soon expect to stop the thunder by beating a tam-tam.” “I know. Those are your fatalist views. You don’t believe in free-will, so of course you will say he can’t save himself.” “What is free-will? One of our greatest scientists characterizes it as the ‘lawlessness of volition.’ The will is not a faculty. It is simply the state of mind immediately preceding action, and that state is determined by motives; by circumstances and attractions which we do not create.” “Yes, we do. We create them in others. We constantly affect their motives and their actions; and so we may act on ourselves, and change our motives. We can make weak ones strong.” “What do you mean by _we_ acting on _ourselves_? But I will not quibble, Fannie. What is the result, when you put two pounds in one scale of a balance and one pound in the other? Dan’s desire for the excitement produced by alcohol is the two-pound weight; his resisting force is the other.” “I am sure there can be no pleasure in the excitement he is now under, for example.” “Oh, yes; a subverted pleasure. He felt himself a hero as he talked about his wrongs, and he had strong hopes of conquering Frauenstein, whom he thinks his enemy. You see it is insanity; but many insane people are happy. This is often the case when insane enough to be ignorant of their condition. Some madmen enjoy years of a triumphant career as Julius Cæsar, Napoleon, and so on.” “Well, then, you think Dan happy, and that we had better do nothing to save him,” said Mrs. Forest, with a sad irony. “For my part, I shall do all I can to avoid the repetition of this.” “Do all you can, dear. You should know, without my telling you, how I feel about our son; but I see no possible way to save him, except the one I suggested. How do you propose to keep him from getting in the same condition to-morrow?” Mrs. Forest was silent a moment, and then she went quickly out of the room. Pretty soon she returned. “Just look!” she said, holding some crumpled money in her hands and counting it. “Two dollars and eighty-four cents, out of twenty dollars that I gave him to-day. Well, he can’t get any liquor to-morrow; that’s one satisfaction. Such a shame! Such a disgrace to us!” “Rather worse than Clara’s leaving Delano, eh?”