So from the house there was banished from that time the alcoholic beverages which had been deemed necessary; but, alas! too late to save the wife and mother from rapidly drifting into confirmed habits of drunkenness. All the schemes that love could devise proved powerless to prevent the mistaken woman from continued indulgence in the fatal cup. The apparent need for constant recourse to stimulants had long since passed away, but the habit of past years had wrought deadly mischief, not alone in gradually weakening the power of self-control, but in creating that morbid craving for alcohol which leaves its deluded victim no alternative but to obey its behests. She had seen no harm in what had become an essential of life to her, until she found herself bound in its toils. True, she did not yield to its slavery without many a struggle, but temptation was overpowering, and finally she succumbed to what she declared was inevitable. She had forgotten the only remedy available in such need as hers. No cry from her despairing heart had risen to heaven; the strength she lacked had not been sought from Him Who only can save from the thraldom of sin, and so, with the stain of uncancelled guilt upon her conscience, she hastened to an untimely end. As she lay dying with mind weakened by long excess, they sought in vain for some sign of penitence, for some words to assure their sad hearts that the darkness of approaching dissolution was gilded by hues of hope and trust in the forgiving mercy of God through Christ. Day after day the sufferer's lips were sealed in an obstinate silence that struck dismay into the hearts of the watchers. She was dying without hope it seemed; but the prayer of faithful friends rose that the intercession of the Great High Priest might be made, and prove effectual for His wandering child. Still the shadows deepened until it became evident that the mother's hours were numbered. "I will watch beside her now, my dears," said the husband, dismissing his children for a brief period. Taking his seat beside the motionless form, he sent up a petition for help. Then, stooping over his wife, he said: "Eliza, dear, would you not like me to pray for you?" The dying woman opened her eyes and faintly whispered: "No." "Shall I send for a minister to come and pray with you, then, dear?" Mrs. Stewart roused herself with a great effort, and with energy exclaimed: "No, _He has prayed for me_, and that is enough." They were her last words. Before the next morning she had passed away, leaving to husband and children the faint comfort of her dying testimony: "He has prayed for me."