next room, penetrating the thin board partition at the
head of Varick's bed. A drunken brawl was going on, with oaths and
imprecations that alarmed all but the sick man and his wife, with now
and then a sharp pounding on the partition, as if some one's head were
being violently beaten against it. Overhead another similar disturbance
occurred. Then there was a crowd of squalid faces peering in at the
windows at us; for decent visitors were rare in the depraved locality of
that forlorn tenant-house. Altogether, the scene sickened and almost
frightened me.

My mother gave Mrs. Varick a basket filled with simple comforts she had
brought with her; and we were about taking our leave, when the door
opened, and a religious-looking man, dressed in black, entered the room,
bowed to us, spoke familiarly to Mrs. Varick, and approached the bedside
of the dying man. Presently he sank upon his knees, and in language most
appropriate to the spiritual hardness and destitution of poor Varick,
invoked the Throne of Grace in his behalf. Though the outcries and
turmoil around and above were continued, yet I lost no word of this
deeply affecting prayer. It touched my heart and heightened the
solemnity of the occasion. My own supplications went up in silence to
the mercy-seat on behalf of the dying man. I knew that my mother's would
be equally fervent; and from the reverential responses of the sobbing
wife, it was clear to me that hers were not withheld.

She was standing very near to me when the minister rose to his feet.
Turning to her, he said in a low voice,--

"Madam, I perceive that you are to have a funeral here very shortly. I
am an undertaker, and shall be glad to take charge of furnishing the
coffin and whatever else may be needed."

He put a card into her hand, and left us. I cannot describe the
revulsion of feeling which this uncouth and abrupt transition from
spiritual to carnal things occasioned in my mind. The shock was so
violent as to dissipate at once the solemn impression which the man's
excellent prayer had made. The heart-stricken wife could make no reply,
except by tears. It was well that the dying man was unable to catch the
mercenary drift of the religious exercises he had heard.

That night he died. When we reached there the next morning, several of
the low crowd who herded in other apartments of this great
tenement-house were already offering to bargain with the widow for her
husband's clothes. The thing was so