nd dried up his heart, and in
so doing he has cut himself off from the richest sources of human
enjoyment. He has wasted life's best opportunities, and there never was
an angel, however bright, terrible and strong, that ever had power to
roll away the stone from the grave of a dead opportunity, and what John
Anderson has lost in time, he can never make up in eternity. He has
formed no taste for reading, and thus has cut himself off from the
glorious companionship of the good, the great, and the wise of all ages.
He has been selfish, mean and grasping, and the blessing of the poor and
needy never fall as benedictions on his weary head; and in that
beautiful home with disease and death clutching at his heartstrings, he
has wealth that he cannot enjoy, luxuries that pall upon his taste, and
magnificence that can never satisfy the restless craving of his soul.
His life has been a wretched failure. He neglected his children to amass
the ways of iniquity, and their coldness and indifference pierce him
like poisoned arrows. Marriage has brought him money, but not the
sweet, tender ministrations of loving wifely care, and so he lives on
starving in the midst of plenty; dying of thirst, with life's sweetest
fountains eluding his grasp.

Charles Romaine is sleeping in a drunkard's grave. After the death of
his boy there was a decided change in him. Night after night he tore
himself away from John Anderson's saloon, and struggled with the monster
that had enslaved him, and for awhile victory seemed to be perching on
the banner of his resolution. Another child took the place of the first
born, and the dead, and hope and joy began to blossom around Jeanette's
path. His mother who had never ceased to visit the house marked the
change with great satisfaction and prevailed upon his father to invite
Charles and Jeanette to a New Year's dinner (only a family gathering).
Jeanette being unwell excused herself from going, and Charles went
alone. Jeanette felt a fearful foreboding when she saw him leaving the
door, and said to herself, "I hope his father will not offer him wine. I
am so afraid that something will happen to him, and yet I hated to
persuade him not to go. His mother might think I was averse to his
reconciliation with his father."

"It looks very natural to have Charles with us again," said Mrs.
Ro[maine] looking fondly on her son.

"Yes, it seems like old times, when I always had my seat next to yours."

"And I hope," said