He had played his part as a centre of all things very badly. Of that he was very well aware. He had sense enough to know that it should be a man's lot to earn his bread after some fashion, and he often told himself that never as yet had he earned so much as a penny roll. He had learned to comprehend that the world's progress depends on the way in which men do their duty by each other,--that the progress of one generation depends on the discharge of such duties by that which preceded it;--and he knew that he, in his generation, had done nothing to promote such progress. He thoroughly despised himself,--if there might be any good in that! But on such occasions as these, when the wine he had drunk was sufficient only to drive away from him the numbness of despair, when he was all alone with the cold night air upon his face, when the stars were bright above him and the world around him was almost quiet, he would still ask himself whether there might not yet be, even for him, some hope of a redemption, --some chance of a better life in store for him. He was still young,--wanting some years of thirty. Could there be, even for him, some mode of extrication from his misery?

He had played his part very badly; of that he was well aware. He had sense enough to know that he should earn his bread in some way, and had never yet earned so much as a penny roll. He had learned that the world's progress depends on men doing their duty by each other; and he knew that he had done nothing to promote such progress. He thoroughly despised himself. But when he was alone with the cold night air upon his face, when the stars were bright above him and the world was almost quiet, he would ask himself whether there might still be some hope of redemption - some chance of a better life.
