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“Ah, I see how it is,” said Dallas; “you need a friend, and God has sent you one.”

“What can you do for me, Mr. Dallas?” said Edward, in a tone of wonder at the confidence of his assurances.

“I will tell you what I can do: I can take you to my house, and give you a room, and watch over you until the strongest temptations are past–I can give you business again. I can do all for you that needs to be done, if you will give yourself to my care.”

“O God of mercy!” exclaimed the unhappy man, “is there hope for me? I cannot believe it possible; but take me where you choose–I will follow and obey.”

A few hours witnessed the transfer of the lost husband to one of the retired apartments in the elegant mansion of Dallas, where he found his anxious and grateful wife still stationed as his watchful guardian.

Medical treatment, healthful exercise, useful employment, simple food, and pure water were connected with a personal supervision by Dallas, which, while gently and politely sustained, at first amounted to actual imprisonment.

For a time the reaction from the sudden suspension of habitual stimulus was dreadful, and even with tears did the unhappy man entreat to be permitted to abandon the undertaking. But the resolute steadiness of Dallas and the tender entreaties of his wife prevailed. It is true that he might be said to be saved “so as by fire;” for a fever, and a long and fierce delirium, wasted him almost to the borders of the grave.

But, at length, the struggle between life and death was over, and though it left him stretched on the bed of sickness, emaciated and weak, yet he was restored to his right mind, and was conscious of returning health. Let any one who has laid a friend in the grave, and known what it is to have the heart fail with longing for them day by day, imagine the dreamy and unreal joy of Augusta when she began again to see in Edward the husband so long lost to her. It was as if the grave had given back the dead.

“Augusta!” said he, faintly, as, after a long and quiet sleep, he awoke free from delirium. She bent over him. “Augusta, I am redeemed–I am saved–I feel in myself that I am made whole.”

The high heart of Augusta melted at these words. She trembled and wept. Her husband wept also, and after a pause he continued,–

“It is more than being restored to this life–I feel that it is the beginning of eternal life. It is the Savior who sought me out, and I know that he is able to keep me from falling.”

But we will draw a veil over a scene which words have little power to paint.

“Pray, Dallas,” said Mr. L., one day, “who is that fine-looking young man whom I met in your office this morning? I thought his face seemed familiar.”

“It is a Mr. Howard–a young lawyer whom I have lately taken into business with me.”

“Strange! Impossible!” said Mr. L. “Surely this cannot be the Howard that I once knew.”

“I believe he is,” said Mr. Dallas.

“Why, I thought he was gone–dead and done over, long ago, with intemperance.”

“He was so; few have ever sunk lower; but he now promises even to outdo all that was hoped of him.”

“Strange! Why, Dallas, what did bring about this change?”

“I feel a delicacy in mentioning how it came about to you, Mr. L., as there undoubtedly was a great deal of ‘interference with other men’s matters’ in the business. In short, the young man fell in the way of one of those meddlesome fellows, who go prowling about, distributing tracts, forming temperance societies, and all that sort of stuff.”

“Come, come, Dallas,” said Mr. L., smiling, “I must hear the story, for all that.”

“First call with me at this house,” said Dallas, stopping before the door of a neat little mansion. They were soon in the parlor. The first sight that met their eyes was Edward Howard, who, with a cheek glowing with exercise, was tossing aloft a blooming boy, while Augusta was watching his motions, her face radiant with smiles.

“Mr. and Mrs. Howard, this is Mr. L., an old acquaintance, I believe.”

There was a moment of mutual embarrassment and surprise, soon dispelled, however, by the frank cordiality of Edward. Mr. L. sat down, but could scarce withdraw his eyes from the countenance of Augusta, in whose eloquent face he recognized a beauty of a higher cast than even in her earlier days.

He glanced about the apartment. It was simply but tastefully furnished, and wore an air of retired, domestic comfort. There were books, engravings, and musical instruments. Above all, there were four happy, healthy-looking children, pursuing studies or sports at the farther end of the room.

After a short call they regained the street.

“Dallas, you are a happy man,” said Mr. L.; “that family will be a mine of jewels to you.”

He was right. Every soul saved from pollution and ruin is a jewel to him that reclaims it, whose lustre only eternity can disclose; and therefore it is written, “They that be wise shall shine as the brightness of the firmament, and they that turn many to righteousness, as the stars forever and ever.”