.

In the first half hour of that evening were lost the fruits of the whole
year's self-denial and self-control. He was not only drunk that night,
but he went off for a fortnight, and was drunk night after night, and
came back to find that his master had discharged him in indignation. John
thinks this over bitterly, as he thuds about in the cold and calls
himself a fool.

Yet, if the truth must be confessed, John had not much "sense of sin," so
called. He looked on himself as an unfortunate and rather ill-used man,
for had he not tried very hard to be good, and gone a great while against
the stream of evil inclination? and now, just for one yielding, he was
pitched out of place, and everybody was turned against him! He thought
this was hard measure. Didn't everybody hit wrong sometimes? Didn't rich
fellows have their wine, and drink a little too much now and then? Yet
nobody was down on _them_.

"It's only because I'm poor," said John. "Poor folks' sins are never
pardoned. There's my good wife--poor girl!" and John's heart felt as if
it were breaking, for he was an affectionate creature, and loved his wife
and babies, and in his deepest consciousness he knew that he was the one
at fault. We have heard much about the sufferings of the wives and
children of men who are overtaken with drink; but what is not so well
understood is the sufferings of the men themselves in their sober
moments, when they feel that they are becoming a curse to all that are
dearest to them. John's very soul was wrung within him to think of the
misery he had brought on his wife and children--the greater miseries that
might be in store for them. He was faint of heart; he was tired; he had
eaten nothing for hours, and on ahead he saw a drinking saloon. Why
shouldn't he go and take one good drink, and then pitch off a ferry-boat
into the East River, and so end the whole miserable muddle of life
altogether?

John's steps were turning that way, when one of the Shining Ones, who had
watched him all day, came nearer and took his hand. He felt no touch; but
at that moment there darted into his soul a thought of his mother, long
dead, and he stopped irresolute, then turned to walk another way. The
hand that was guiding him led him to turn a corner, and his curiosity was
excited by a stream of people who seemed to be pressing into a building.
A distant sound of singing was heard as he drew nearer, and soon he found
himself passing with the multitude into