“With all his singing and dreaming,” remarked a third, “he was no better than the rest of us. The old one would show himself pretty often.” “That’s so,” chimed in the fourth; “wilt thee look at him now, lying there, when he might have been alive and well, like the rest of us! Well, he’s gone to his account now, poor lad!” I waited to hear no more. Mind and brain were alike maddened by what I _had_ heard. It was all true enough; but every word seemed like a scorpion’s sting, to pierce my soul. Who were these, that they should condemn one who had not the power to defend himself? Were they free from the common taint of sin? Thus I questioned; but unable to solve the mighty problems that seemed pressing down upon me, I made one herculean effort, and, bursting the bonds that confined me to my useless body, I rushed from the place, away I knew not where, I cared not; only to get relief for my burning, tortured soul. And here allow, if you please, one digression. Let me warn you, oh, mortals, to mind how you speak and think of those who have departed the mortal life. Let your thoughts and words be as charitable and kind as possible; for by so doing you may furnish a beacon-light that will brighten their paths upward. But if you speak ill of them, if you hurl the stone of censure at departing spirits, you may furnish the heavy weight that will drag them downward. Alas, I did not understand the cure of sin-sick, tortured souls; and I sought that refuge that had been, and was now again, my curse, but which I vainly thought would drown all recollection and bring relief. I soon found myself in a well-known spot, one of my former haunts—the back parlor, just beyond the taproom—of a public-house. I seated myself as naturally as ever, and waited for some one to comply with my demand for liquor; but while the bar-maid flitted about, here and there, and several times brushed against my person in passing, she paid no attention to me whatever, and I felt myself neglected indeed. Presently, I observed, entering the apartment, one whom I had occasionally seen at that resort, and who I understood to be a hard drinker. He called for liquor, and when it was brought, raised the glass to his lips. Suddenly, by a sort of fascination, I was drawn to his side, and while he poured the fiery liquid down his throat, my whole being seemed to vibrate in sympathy, and became saturated with the fumes of the liquor. At every drop he tasted, I seemed to quaff a corresponding one; and I found I could indulge myself in that way to any extent. I remained by his side, drinking long and deep. Our potations lasted for hours. Oh, the craving desire I had for that deadly fluid! My deep delight and utter abandonment of self you cannot realize.