The holidays having passed, Fred sought out and found immediate
employment in Montreal. The sad impressions that were engraven upon his
mind at first began and continued gradually to wear off. New friendships
were formed. Things became more and more familiar to him, and at length
he experienced a much happier state of mind. At first he purposed
writing immediately to his friends in London, but after a few
postponements, resolved not to do so, as he considered it would show an
effeminency on his part, and that a few month's silence would perhaps
season their affection for him.
Two of his fellow-workmen, who belonged to a company of volunteers,
persuaded Fred to join their ranks. He was tolerably well acquainted
with military discipline, having practically served in a company during
his residence at Tiverton; and he had also studied considerably the
tactics of war, therefore he found no difficulty in getting himself
initiated as a Canadian volunteer; but in so doing it ultimately proved
to be another unfortunate step. The circle of his acquaintances was thus
increased tenfold. Military glory unfolded its social charms. Friendly
meetings with jovial comrades became more frequent. The foaming glass
sparkled brightly with fascination. Temptation unmasked itself. Again
and again his companions of the evenings had recourse to expedients to
induce him to drink with them. He was willing to pass an evening and
smoke a cigar, but sternly refused to even moisten his lips with the
poisonous liquid, which showed a manly independence in principle, a
dignity of honor; and it would have been well for him had he always
continued as invincible.
"I say, Fred, you must have something to drink with us to-night," said
Billa Haveril one evening as Fred and a few of his comrades were walking
along Craig Street. "Here's the '_Royal Arms_,' come in, boys--come in
Fred, and I'll introduce you to Mr. Stone, a jolly good old Englishman.
He knows how to warm up a fellow when the cold is 30 degrees below
zero."
They entered, and became seated in a room adjoining the bar.
"Well, Fred, what's your choice," said Haveril.
"A glass of cold water," replied Fred.
"Horrible! horrible!" ejaculated Haveril. "Are you really going to
commit an arctic outrage upon your sensibilities? That will never do if
you intend living in Canada."
"Perhaps he wants to convert himself into an ice-house," exclaimed Harry
Jenkins.
"Gentlemen," said Fred, "I previously informed you that I belong to the
Sons of Temperance; you will therefore confer a favor by not pressing
your kindness further upon me."
"Take it as a medicine, then; a glass will neither awaken your
conscience nor injure your stomach," said Haveril.
"Do as St. Paul advised Timothy to do--take a little for your stomach's
sake and your often infirmities," said Nichol Henderson.
"Come, Fred, _one glass_ will never ruffle a feather in your
conscience," said Ernest Stevens.
"Come, boys! tip up your bumpers!" exclaimed Haveril, and then singing
aloud, followed by the others in chorus,
"_For Fred's a jolly good fellow_," &c.
Frederick having declined was again pressed to drink, to which he
replied--"I am willing to condescend to the wishes of the company in
which I may be placed; but when principle is at stake I must necessarily
decline sacrificing my honor to the demands of others, even those of my
best friends, as I am a pledge-bound total abstainer."
"Pooh! pooh!" ejaculated Jenkins, "that's enough of your sophisticated
balderdash. Do you not know that a London pledge is not valid in
Canada?"
"Why, what's the difference," exclaimed Fred, "the principle is the same
throughout."
"Well, sir, the difference is just this," said Jenkins, "every country
has its own laws, and every subject therein is commanded to obey them,
and to do so only while he is a resident. The laws of the temperance
cause are based upon the same principle."
"Philosophically speaking, you cannot assimilate them," replied Fred.
"Civil laws differ according to the government of a country, the
characteristics of a people, their intellectual, moral and spiritual
condition, etc. Whereas, the temperance cause, in its strictest sense,
is everywhere identical, and its laws universal; the essence of which in
the abstract is simply '_to abstain_' and '_to obey_.' But suppose, for
the sake of argument, that you are right in your opinion, I ask then, is
there sufficient reason in the act of having withdrawn myself from the
country in which I took the pledge, to disannul my responsibility, when
I have not withdrawn my name from the Society's list of membership. And
again, I ask you, if I desire to remain a total abstainer, wherefore
should I compel myself unnecessarily, in order to please others, to
sacrifice my liberty to the 'king of evils,' even should I feel no
longer bound to obey the laws of the Society."
"I say, Fred, for goodness' sake stop," exclaimed Sandie Johnstone, "or
else you will sink us so deeply into the ruts of philosophy that our
friends will never be able to discover us."
"Go on, Fred, go on, you're a brick," cried Haveril. "Give Jenkins
another dig with your philosophical pick."
"Fair play," shouted Jenkins, "'tis my turn to bait the trap."
"Bait it with a bottle of brandy," cried Haveril, "and we'll see who'll
bite at it first."
"If Jenkins wont, I'll bet you a dollar you will," ejaculated Johnstone.
"Yes, Haveril would bite at the very devil if his Satanical Majesty was
filled to the teeth with brandy," exclaimed Jenkins, the others
chorusing with a series of discordant laughs.
"Well, well, gentlemen," exclaimed Fred, "if you desire the continuance
of my friendship, and if you wish to respect the dignity of morality and
the English language, you must refrain from using such insinuating
balderdash and bar-room-slang."
"You're right, Fred, stick to your subject and make them all your
subjects," said Ernest Stevens.
"Why, Fred, if you would only take a gentle sipling of the nectar you
would know how to appreciate and enjoy our company," said Henderson.
"True friendship and true happiness are based upon more _solid_ material
than _liquids_," replied Frederick.
"Well, Fred, as you are a sort of philosopher, allow me to ask you, if
the true destiny of man, both here and hereafter, is not the enjoyment
of life?" interrogated Henderson.
"Certainly, sir," replied Fred; "but I further believe that our Maker
designed that man should use the proper means for the promotion of both
terrestrial and celestial happiness."
"Our opinions are identical, then," exclaimed Henderson. "We are both of
the same mind and yet cannot agree; and the reason is simply this--that
I occasionally partake of a social glass with my friends as a means to
awaken and promote enjoyment; whereas you teetotally reject the means.
This delicious nectar sparkling before me has the inherent virtues of
making me truly happy; I, therefore, use it for its medicinal qualities.
So here is my best respects to you all, boys,--not forgetting you,
Fred," added Henderson, raising the tumbler to his lips and draining the
liquor to its very dregs.
"Ha! ha! ha!" ejaculated Jenkins, "I say, Fred, you are completely
cornered up, Henderson's as good a philosopher as yourself."
"That may be so," replied Fred, "but I wish you, and Henderson
also, to bear in mind that reason may be twisted into sophistry.
He must first prove the premises of his arguments to be correct,
namely, 'that spirituous liquors are conducive to the happiness of
mankind'--otherwise, the syllogism must be false. To attempt such an
undertaking would be a more fool-hardy task than that of Hercules to
carry the globe upon his back. My dear sir, you would soon find that the
universal evidence of the world would be against you. The horrid shrieks
of suffering humanity would denounce the falsity of your arguments,
while myriads of skeletons would startle from their graves with horrid
indignation!"
"Hold on, hold on, I say, Fred," shouted Henderson, "you are firing away
your balls at random and never look at the target."
"I think he has made a good many bull-eyes in your head," exclaimed
Stevens.
"Come, come, boys, we'll have a _horn_ on the _head_ of the subject,"
cried Jenkins.
"Yes, yes, that's the talk," responded some of the others.
"Hold on, hold on, gentlemen," exclaimed Henderson, slightly irritated.
"I must have fair play in the game."
"By all means," said Fred, "I shall see that you shall."
"Well, sir," said H., "allow me to inform you, that in your arguments
you deviated from the proposition I made, namely--that liquor as a means
is conducive to human happiness. I mean the proper use of it; but you
immediately darted off to the furthest extremity of the subject, and by
a sort of superlative sophistry of your own, you attempted to conjure up
a horrid array of evils arising from the abuse of that spiritual gift,
which is the very essence of those cereals designed by the Author of
Creation as the principal sustainer of animal life."
"You accuse me, sir, of doing injustice to your proposition, by
representing the consequences of abusing that spiritual gift, as you
very improperly term it," said Fred. "Your proposition, let me tell you,
embraces only the germs; but I look forward to the fruits thereof. He
would be but a very foolish farmer indeed, who would sow tares or
imperfect seed for the mere pleasure of seeing his fields adorned with
verdure, without looking forward to the consequences. Every good farmer
anticipates an abundant harvest and accordingly sows the best seed. So
should every man who desires to reap a harvest of happiness. He should
look well to the seed, and sow only that which will eventually produce
the best results. Again, you say that liquor when used in moderation, is
a means of producing human happiness, and therefore should be used. I
beg to differ with you; happiness arises not from the animal impulses of
human nature stimulated by intoxicating liquor. Use it moderately you
say. Alas, how many millions have been ruined forever by the taking of
only one single glass at first, _only one glass_! Think of it! It is the
magnet that attracts material akin to itself; alas, what a world of
wretchedness and crime is reflected from that nucleus of Intemperance."
"Hold on, hold on, Fred," ejaculated Jenkins, "that'll do for the
present."
"Go on, Fred, your illustrations are beautiful and impressive," cried
Stevens, "go on, you are hitting the target at every shot."
"For goodness sake, Fred, do stop; or you will convert us all into a
company of 'cold water-boys,'" cried Jenkins.
"Come! come, my lads," exclaimed Haveril, "we'll wind up for the present
with a bumper of 'hot Scotch' and I'll pay for the drinks."
"Hot Scotch! hot Scotch!" shouted a half dozen of voices--and having
partaken of a rousing bumper they called upon Fred to favor them with a
song, to which he responded in the following Temperance Song, entitled
"One Glass More."
Behold yon wretch at the tavern-bar:
His matted hair hangs over his brow;
The manly form and the noble soul
Are wrecked and lost in the drunkard now.
He shivering stands in his dirty rags,
With bloated face and his blood-shot eyes;
With quivering lips and a fever'd breath
For one glass more how he pleading cries.
_Chorus._--O give me, sir, but a single glass;
O pity me now when my cash is done;
The night is cold and my blood runs chill,
And all I ask is a single one.
Away from here, you miserable wretch;
I want no more of your blubbering gas,
Be off at once! or I'll kick you out;
You'll get none here--not a single glass,
What brought you here in your filthy rags,
To disgrace my house in this drunken way.
At once, begone! for you'll get no drink,
No, not a glass, when you've nothing to pay.
_Chorus._--O give me, sir, &c.
O, wherefore, sir, would you kick me out!
Why so unjust to thy friend art thou;
You gave me drink and you took my cash,
You made me, sir, as you see me now.
You scorn me too, as a drunken wretch,
Debased and steep't in the dregs of sin;
And when I ask but a single glass,
You'll kick me out tho' you took me in.
_Chorus._--O give me, sir, &c.
Thro' ten long years while I labored hard,
You gave me drink, and you drain'd my purse,
I was your friend, and your blessings then,
Have proved at length but a demon's curse.
My loving wife and my children dear,
Have often sigh'd with a hungry soul,
While I was here with my social friends
And drinking deep from your mad'ning bowl.
_Chorus._--O give me, sir, &c.
My health and youth I have wasted here;
To thee, for drink, my money I gave;
I'm now a wreck of what I was once,
And sinking fast to a drunkard's grave;
All wasted here in my reckless course,
Which neither thou nor time can restore;
Then pity me now for old friendship's sake,
And give one glass and I'll ask no more.
_Chorus._--"Begone from here, you miserable wretch!"
The landlord cried, and he stamp't and swore,
Then kick't him out to the cold night storm,
And curs'd the wretch as he closed his door.
Frederick Charlston continued to step into a saloon occasionally to pass
an evening with his comrades. Every expedient was tried to persuade him
to taste with them; but with a manly spirit of independence he remained
for several weeks invincible to their attacks. At length he was induced
to take a tumbler with hot water, sweetened with sugar, and flavored
with nutmeg and peppermint. But Jenkins one night gave the innkeeper a
wink to put a few drops of Scotch whiskey into Fred's tumbler. A few
drops were sufficient to slightly stimulate his brain, and produce a
flow of social feeling within his heart; and thus, when too late, he
discovered that he had tasted of the evil spirit. Having once tasted, he
felt a less restriction of duty; and on subsequent occasions allowed a
few drops to be added to the mixture. _Only a few drops!_ how
insignificant in number! how innocent they appear within themselves!
But, alas, a few drops were added to the few, until they became _a great
number_; and before winter had thrown off its fleecy covering, Frederick
Charlston could empty a tumbler of hot punch as readily as any of his
comrades. Thus, he who had once nobly defended the cause of Temperance,
and had remained so long invincible, at length dishonored that pledge
which, even under the most trying circumstances, he had hitherto never
violated. "_Only a few drops_" at first--yes, _only a few drops_, and
therewith poor Frederick Charlston became the votary of intemperance.
His Saturday nights were afterwards too frequently spent, or rather
misspent, in deep carousals with his comrades. His Sabbaths were also
often desecrated; and instead of appearing in his accustomed seat in
Church, he was either sleeping away the sacred hours of the day, or,
perhaps, polluting his mind with the filthy contents of some sensational
novel. For a few weeks at first his moral feelings were occasionally
awakened by the stings of conscience; but gradually they became less
susceptible and less unwilling to recognize or respect the laws of moral
responsibility.