Another writes, two years after leaving the Home: "In different places
where I lived, I was generally a moving spirit in everything of a
literary character, and, from a naturally social, convivial disposition,
enjoyed the conversation and society of literary men over a glass of
beer more than any other attraction that could have been presented. For
years, this continued, I, all the time, an active spirit in whatever
church I was a member of, and an active worker in whatever I engaged in,
thereby always commanding a prominent position wherever I was. Thus
matters progressed till I was about twenty-seven, and then I began to
realize my position; but, alas, when it was too late. The kindly
admonition of friends and my own intelligence began to tell me the
story, and then how I struggled for months and months--a naturally
sensitive nature only making me worse--till, at last, the conviction
forced itself upon me that, for me there was no redemption, that I was
bound, hand and foot, perfectly powerless, and then I was forced to
accept the fact. My only desire then was to save those dear to me from
any knowledge of the truth; for this reason I chose Chicago for my home.
Not wishing to take my own life in my hands, I was simply waiting for
the moment when, having gone lower and lower, it would, at last, please
God to relieve me of my earthly sufferings. Oh! the mental agonies I
endured! Too true is it that the drunkard carries his hell around with
him. At any moment I was perfectly willing to die, perfectly willing to
trust whatever might be before me in the other world, feeling it could
be no worse. At last, by God's grace, I was directed to the
'Washingtonian Home,' and there, for the first time, I learned that I
could be free; and in this knowledge lies the power of the Home. The
Home took hold of me and bade me be a man, and directed me to God for
help; and, at the same time, told me to work out my own salvation. Its
teachings were not in vain; and to-day I can look up and ask God's