The Belmont chronicle, and farmers, mechanics and manufacturers advocate. [volume] (St. Clairsville, Ohio) 1848-1855, 1853-12-02

and he Is dead. Oh! doubly dead to us
You, Amy, have not seen him for five years
You will remember him as the lofty, high
minded, noble brother-the embodiment o
all that was good and manly. ] Imust remem.
Der him as the dying Misunderstanding in
his agony, and fighting with madman's fury
with legions Of devils. Remember him with
glaring and blood-shot eyes, with foaming
mouth, uttering curses, groans and deafening
cries.
! | must remember him as the murderer OF
our boy, for it was his hand that in frenzied
moment dealt the fatal blow that preciptated
him down the long flight of stairs, which fall
you know, ended his life. "Spare me, oh
Emily, spare mel" hear you cry, "why
have you told me all this? Why, if my bro
ther is gone, will you blight his memory thus !!
In pity let me remember him as the good the
noble! Have you thought If the agony that
this recital will give his gray haired mother,
or of the pangs that will grieve his fathers
soul, of his young brothers, and sisters just
bursting into womanhood! Could you not
have spared us this recital, and thrown the
mantle of charity over dead husband!"
Gladly would have spared you, oh my
sister, my mother, my father and,my brothers.
Gladly would have hid his sins in my own
heart, and locked them in the casket of love
as strong as woman's heart e'er knew. But
a stern duty said no. His father still orders
the wine to be placed before his guest, with
his own hands he fills the tempting glass for
his sons. His mother smiles complacently
and makes no effort, and Amy, my sister Amy
and her lover sip the dainty nectar coyly from
the same glass. Amy and her lover--he pure,
and good and strong now, but not purer or
stronger than was William in the days past
Amy said to him, "Drink, it will do you good;
never mind Emily-she belongs TO the fana-
tics who preach that every man that wants
glass now and then for exhilaration, must be-
come drunkard, because, forsooth, some low
vulgar wretch has fallen in pot-house,
Never let woman rule you, Wili!"-Dost !
it, Amy!
Oh, by that disigured corpse beneath yon
winding sheet, BY the agony of the fearless
wife, (no tears have soothed me since he ded) !
by the cries Of orphaned children, who now
must depend on charity for bread, let me i'm.
plore you, Amy, to take your stand against
the destroyer. Save your younger brother
from the fearful doom; save your lover, if it be
not too late; save your father Twas for
this and this only have penned these lines;
for this that have opened the deep and in
curabe wounds of my heart, in their hideous
deformation Tomorrow they will lay him
by his son in the poor-ho"se church yard. |
There shall soon follow him, for poverty,
shame and abuse have done their work.
did not drink the dark waters of death--but |
he who was dearer to me than my own life
drank them, that they have killed me. If
our father cares for the children, q know he
WILL and would have done it long ago had we
told him our needs,) oh say to him, my sister
that would rather my babes, my darling boys
could be brought up in the poor-house, and
on their risks among strangers, than to live
in his lorlly halls, and be tempted day by day
to sin by loving lips and hands. /,
shall never write you again, but let me
plead with you as one from the grave: give
your aid to the work of reform. Stand no
more with the temp:ers; stand no more with
the idle. The whole soul is crying out for
help: you can do much, for you have talent,
wealth, and beauty. Join, then, the army of
women who are already marshalled to fight
the moral battle for humanity. Women must ,
do the work, man is too busy; he has wealth .
to make, fame to gain, honor to acquire. How
can he stop to save! Stop to save, did say
he is pulling down--making gold through the
bodies and souls of men-filling his Golfers
with gold coined from strong mems hearts,
wives tears, and orphans walls Let women
to the work, nor stay her hand till the mon
ster sin is crushed beneath the iron hoof of
law.
Farewell! can write no more. God pre-
serve thee, Is the dying prayer of
EMILY--."
Thus wrote the dying wife over the corpse
of her husband, and is there but one such case
leading his children to ruin! one easy mother,
making no effort for her loved ones! but one
sister Amy laughing TO scorn those who would
save the weak or wavering from destruction.
We know there are thousands, and we trust
this record of truth may reach their hearts.
Coon By.-The editor Of the Albany Reg
lister comments thus upon this simple word,
so common and yet So full of solemn and ten
der meaning:
How many emotions cluster around that
word. How full Of sadness, and to us, how
full Of sorrow it sounds. 1t is with us con-
secrated word. We heard it once within the
year, as we hope never to hear it again. We
spoke it on an occasion, such as we hope never
to speak it again. 1t was in the chamber of