“He was, much against his will, prevailed on to take the stout, and in time he recovered from his sickness. When he got well, I of course praised up the virtues of stout as a means of saving his life, for which he ought ever to be thankful; and rather lectured him on being such a fanatic (that’s the word) as to refuse taking a bottle of stout daily to restore him to his former health. I lost sight of my patient for some months; but I am sorry to say that on one fine summer’s day, when driving through one of our public thoroughfares, I saw a poor, miserable, ragged-looking man leaning against the door of a common public-house drunk, and incapable of keeping an erect position. Even in his poverty, drunkenness, and misery, I discovered it was my teetotal patient whom I had, not so long ago, persuaded to break his pledge. I could not be mistaken. I had reason to know him well, for he had been a member of a Methodist church; an indefatigable Sunday-school teacher; a prayer-leader whose earnest appeals for the salvation of others I had often listened to with pleasure and edification. I immediately went to the man, and was astonished to find the change which drink in so short a time had worked in his appearance. With manifest surprise, and looking earnestly at the poor wretch, I said, ‘S—, is that you?’ With a staggering reel, and clipping his words, he answered, ‘Yes, it’s me. Look at me again. Don’t you know me?’ ‘Yes, I know you,’ I said, ‘and am grieved to see you in this drunken condition. I thought you were a teetotaler?’ “With a peculiar grin upon his countenance, he answered, ‘I was before I took your medicine.’ ‘I am sorry to see you disgracing yourself by such conduct. I am ashamed of you.’ Rousing himself, as drunken people will at times, to extraordinary effort, he scoffingly replied, ‘Didn’t you send me here for my medicine?’ and with a delirious kind of chuckle he hiccupped out words I shall never forget. ‘Doctor, your medicine cured my body, but it damned my soul!’ “Two or three of his boozing companions, hearing our conversation, took him under their protection, and I left him. As I drove away, my heart was full of bitter reflections, that I had been the cause of ruining this man’s prospects, not only of this world, but of that which is to come.