This case presents a sad and dark picture in the history of womanhood. An intemperate woman, through the blasting and blighting influence of liquor, leaving her home, and like the prodigal, spending her substance in riotous living, and at length being compelled to feed on the husks. A fallen woman seeking pleasure away from home with all its endearments. Alas! alas! "There is no peace saith my God unto the wicked. Whither, oh, whither can they fly as wretched wanderers from their homes?" "Home, sweet home! There is no place like home!" It is a divine institution. A place of rest and peace and joy. To forsake home is to despise bliss and accept woe. It is to reject felicity and receive sorrow. When God has been so kind as to furnish a peaceable, well-governed home, nothing should tempt the young to leave it. All that is necessary for pure pleasure can be found in the family circle. The unwary are sometimes induced to leave home through false representations, and a desire to gratify every earthly propensity. Idle curiosity may be greatly augmented, and the new acquaintances formed may, for the time being, partially please the senses; but the calm recollection of former unalloyed joys in the cottage home naturally extorts the old cry from pale quivering lips, and a broken heart, "I will arise and go to my father, and will say: father I have sinned against heaven and before thee." Such a course of turning to God, and such a cry, is always richly rewarded. Personal reformation is not only gratifying to relatives and friends, but well-pleasing to God. "Won to reformation" by the Bible woman through the omnipotence of _loving kindness_! We are reminded by this incident of a story we heard told by the late John B. Gough. It was part of his experience a few days after he became a total abstainer. He had returned to work. But his burning thirst for liquor was intense. In his agony of mind and body, he said to his employer, "I have signed the pledge." The reply was, "You will keep it about a week." "If so, then I will go and get a drink now, for I cannot endure this awful agony any longer," he retorted. He rushed out of the room and down the stairs leading to the street, when he was accosted by the kind, gentle voice of a strange gentleman who met him. "How do you do, Mr. Gough? I am so glad to see you; I was delighted to see you at the meeting last night, and I am so thankful that you had courage given you to go forward and sign the pledge. I simply called over to shake you by the hand and wish you God speed in your noble endeavor. Here is my card; I want you to call at my office, as I desire to get acquainted with you." Those kind words entered into his heart, and from that auspicious hour he resolved to be steadfast and immovable in his renunciation of his drinking habits.