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 a great prayer-meeting. The music
grew more distinct as he went in. A man was singing in clear, penetrating
tones:

"What means this eager, anxious throng,
Which moves with busy haste along;
These wondrous gatherings day by day;
What means this strange commotion, say?
In accents hushed the throng reply,
'Jesus of Nazareth passeth by!'"

John had but a vague idea of religion, yet something in the singing
affected him; and, weary and footsore and heartsore as he was, he sank
into a seat and listened with absorbed attention: