Soon after the lamps were lighted, company began to assemble in
the spacious bar-room, where were comfortable seats, with tables,
newspapers, backgammon boards, dominoes, etc. The first act of
nearly every one who came in was to call for a glass of liquor;
and sometimes the same individual drank two or three times in the
course of half an hour, on the invitation of new comers who were
convivially inclined.

Most of those who came in were strangers to me. I was looking from
face to face to see if any of the old company were present, when
one countenance struck me as familiar. I was studying it, in
order, if possible, to identify the person, when some one
addressed him as "Judge."

Changed as the face was, I now recognized it as that of Judge
Lyman. Five years had marred that face terribly. It seemed twice
the former size; and all its bright expression was gone. The
thickened and protruding eyelids half closed the leaden eyes, and
the swollen lips and cheeks gave to his countenance a look of all
predominating sensuality. True manliness had bowed itself in
debasing submission to the bestial. He talked loudly, and with a
pompous dogmatism--mainly on political subjects--but talked only
from memory; for any one could see, that thought came into but
feeble activity. And yet, derationalized, so to speak, as he was,
through drink, he had been chosen a representative in Congress, at
the previous election, on the anti-temperance ticket, and by a
very handsome majority. He was the rum candidate; and the rum
interest, aided by the easily swayed "indifferents," swept aside
the claims of law, order, temperance, and good morals; and the
district from which he was chosen as a National Legislator sent