John B. Gough, in Worcester, Massachusetts, was down as low as any man could be. So low and miserable he was that there was none to look at him. He was an outcast from the respectable churches, and the raging devils of the craving for drink were in his heart and soul.
He went out one day, he said, determined to do away with himself, a poor drunkard, lost to everything; and a young lad, called Joel Stratton — John B. Gough never forgot it — put his hand on the poor shoulder, and said, “John, man, I believe you’ll give up the drink yet.”
John B. Gough staggered away from him; both went to their knees, and the trembling hand of John B. Gough wrote the pledge; but, better than that, he said, “Lord, save my soul;” and Joel Stratton’s hand never left the shoulder of John B. Gough in Massachusetts till John B. Gough stood erect, till, with a tongue of clarion peal, the rescued one spoke for God. When multitudes came round him in America, and in this country, amid his oratorical triumphs, John B. Gough said that he felt to his dying day the hand of Joel Stratton on his shoulder.
Blessed be God, if there be one that cares for you, to direct you to God. What is the influence of your comrades today, you boy from the north, as I was? It is good to have Christian companionship. Speak it out, Jehosaphat. You were cowardly in your testimony, but God really brought salvation from the trouble to Jehorum in your presence.
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J. Wilbur Chapan, “Present Day Parables.”