"Morality never saved a soul, Mr.Woodhouse." But Helen laughed gayly: "John, dear, Gifford doesn't understand your awful Presbyterian doctrines, and there is no use trying to convert him." Gifford smiled, and owned good-naturedly that he was a heathen.

"But I think," he said, "the thing which keeps the town back most is liquor." "It is, indeed," John answered, eagerly.

"If it could be banished!" "High license is the only practical remedy," said Gifford, his face full of interest; but John's fell.
"No, no, not that; no compromise with sin will help us.

I would have it impossible to find a drop of liquor in Lockhaven." "What would you do in case of sickness ?" Gifford asked curiously.
"I wouldn't have it used." "Oh, John, dear," Helen protested, "don't you think that's rather extreme?
You know it's life or death sometimes: a stimulant has to be used, or a person would die.

Suppose I had to have it ?" His face flushed painfully.