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."

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.