“No, Frank, your father and mother do not see the matter in the same light as myself and I have no right to blame them, for, when I first came to Waterland, I thought nearly the same as they do. Perhaps they will take my view by-and-by.”
Frank shook his head, and then went on,—
“But you do think it the best thing for young people, as well as grown-up people, to be abstainers?”
“Yes, assuredly; and I will tell you why. I will give you a little illustration. There is a beautiful picture representing what is called the ‘Lorelei,’ a spirit fabled to haunt some high rocks that overlook the Rhine. This spirit is represented in the picture as a beautiful female, with a sweet but melancholy expression of countenance. She kneels on the top of the rock, and is singing to a harp, which she strikes with her graceful fingers. Below is a boat with two men in it, the one old, and the other young. The boat is rapidly nearing the rocks, but both the men are utterly unconscious of their danger—the old man has ceased to hold the helm, the young man has dropped the oars, and both are fondly stretching out their hands towards the deceiving spirit, wholly entranced with her song—a few moments more and their boat will be a wreck. Now, it is because the drink is such an enticing thing, like the Lorelei spirit; because it seems to sing pleasantly to us, and makes us forget where we are; because it lures on old and young to their ruin, by robbing them of their self-control;—it is for these reasons that I think it such a happy thing to put every safeguard between ourselves and its snares.”
“Yes,” said Frank thoughtfully; “I know the drink is becoming a snare to me, or may become so. What shall I do? Ought I to give it up altogether?”
“It is a very difficult thing to answer that question,” replied the rector. “I could hardly urge you to give up beer and wine altogether, if your father and mother positively forbid your doing so; there is no sin, of course, in the simple taking of fermented liquors, and therefore I could not advise you to go directly contrary to your parents’ orders in this matter.”
“There is no harm, however, in my trying to give up beer and wine, if my father and mother will allow me?”
“Certainly not, my dear boy; and may God make your way plain, and remove or overcome your difficulties.”
The day after this conversation, Frank was sitting in his place at the dinner-table of the hall. The butler brought him a glass of beer. “No, thank you,” he said. A little while after he filled a tumbler with water, and began to drink it.
“Frank, my boy,” said his father, “are not you well? Why don’t you take your beer as usual?”