The western Democrat. [volume] (Charlotte, N.C.) 1852-1870, 1856-05-20

TIE SUICIDE.

Some time since a beautiful young girl
was found drowned in the Schulykill River,
in the vicinity of Philadelphia. A stranger
to those who discovered the body, it was
taken and laid out for time in the charity
hospital in order that she might be reccg-
nized by her relatives. When found, her
dress was of the best material, neatly made,
and in her pocket was found a note wrap
ped in oil silk, in order that tho water might
not affect it, which note stated that her
death was an act of her own. This Great
ed much interest to discover her parentage;
many visited her remains, and no clue could
be had to identity. just as the directors
of the hospital were about to place her re-
mains in Il common pine coffin, to consign
them to the resting place of the miserable
and unfortunate, an old man, accompanied
by young gentleman, entered and on ex-
amining her person closely, they seemed to
be greatly detected. The young man or
dered a handsome coffin, one appropriate
for her personal attraction, and purchased
burial place in the cemetery, and had her
decently inferred. They evidently recog-
nised her, but avoided disclosure of her
history; and even to this day her remains
rest in cemetery near Philadelphia, un-
known. She was, it is believed, dishon-
ored victim, and probably an outcast in
consequence from home and friends.
Her melancholy fate gave rise to the fol-
lowing feeling and beautiful remarks
BY MISS LOUISE REEDER:
Take her up gently from the cold earth,
and fold the slight hands upon the bosom
whence all pain has fed. Speak no light
word Of her who rashly thus has cast away
the life God gave her-for to Him alone,
who reads all hearts, her great Sorrows have
been known, and it's for him alone to pun
sh. There rests upon that brow an awful
calm-a presence all mysterious, that tells
of the deep agony too great to bear-of the
heart-strings frozen at last, and then broken
in the wild, despairing struggle. Oh! it is
very sad to look on one whose span of life
not sixteen summers yet hath breathed up
on, and feel with mOurnfulness that for her
the past has been one long, deep, painful
vigil--an agonizing brooding over some
fearful wrong-till the sullen river. rolling
onward clos ed over the fragile form, and
hushed beneath its waves the moaning wall
of grief that burst from the throbbing heart.
The midnight winds in their journeyings,
perchance, have borne upon their breathing
sigh her last supplication to the great
Father of mercies; and as the slanting sun
beams wavered through the crystal deep,
who shall say the darkened spirit bathed
not in their senescent light; or that the
angels, who tread bright meridian, gave not
their ntercessiOn for the poor wanderer,
whose penance long had broken the ashen
crust of bitterness! No signet of decay
rests on the pale cheek that thus, in the
autumn time, has faded with the dying flow
ers, but the tender buds of youths eternal
May for her have been blighted, ere they
biossomed. We gaze upon her, and the
vanished years pass, one by one, before US,
till we hear her silvery laugh, as like some
sportive syiph she chased the butterflies
in childhood's thoughtless hours. Thus
following her, we start and shudder at the
desolating change. The home she once
made light by her dear presence, lies in the
dim shadow of dishonored name. The
spring flowers still bloom along the fami
liar paths, but the spoiler has borne from
the cherishing bosom the sweetest blossom
of them all. The music of stream and bird
will come back when the ice-king leaves
his tottering throne, but there is voice
heard no more in the desolate chambers,
and name banished from the evening
prayer. They miss her from the ire-side,
and her place is vacant at the board. A