Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1856-09-27

iAAN .Ntu uN hiG " EAluG uAillf NNNtAo
advise, and not a single soul TO love, or be low
ed by. There was, three thousand miles dis
iaui from home and friends a waif on life's
wave, solitary in the midst Of thousands, and
with heart yearning for kiadly sympathy, bu.
finding none. Whilst musne on my fortune.
all at once the following passage entered my
mind, and afforded the consolation Trust in
the Lord. and DO good so shalt thou dwell in
the land, and verify thou shalt be fed" In a
few days he found employment in the Melho-
dist Book cunccru, as errand boy and to learn
the book binding business. As his prospects
began to improve, he sen, for his parents and sis
tel to join him. His mother and sister arrive
cd in 1888 His fliher did not accompany
them, heing 10th to lose his hard earned PEN
sion of Geo pei anuum. They went to house
keeping and Tor time were happy IN their iru-
galty and industry. urtil, owing to the press
ute Of The times, young Cough was dismissed
from work at the commencement oi hard win
ter. To them that dreary winter was one con-
linual scene Of privalion and their sorrows
were aggravated by the mothers sickness. lie
vas obliged to paWn his best coat to procure
her some mutton broth. And here let Us quote
passage which contains truth no less gener-
al than lamentabe during all that hard win
ter We received no charitable assistance from
any source. Once, aud once only. my mother
spoke Of some wood which was to be given
away to tho poor at the City Hall: bns ! re-
fused to allow her 10 apply for relief then, know
ing well that she would be subjected to the in
sultng questions Of hard-hearied officials, who
faat rAvaufa.ts q fIafr -. fDa.sit al
fortunate children Of penury. Pity it is. that
kind actions cannot always be performed in
kindly spirit bat too often such is not the case
IN this culd-hearted world. Glad To this day
anu that | prevented her from being mortified
By cuntumely which cannot bear to tliink
she would have borne"
In the summer of 1884 occurred what Mr..
Cough describes as one of the most terrible
events Of his history, and which almost bowed
him to the dust His loved and sifeetionaie
mother died suddenly Of apopexy during the
Temporary absence Of himself and sister He
touchngly describes the scene Of anguish that
followed. There was no ''pomp and circum-
stance" about her humble funeral-but never
went mortal to the grave who had been more
truly loved, and was then more sincerely la
menIed, than that silent traveller toward Pot
ler's field, the place of her inierment. Only
two lacerated and bleeding hearts mourned for
her; but the almost unnoiiced procession
passed through the streets, tears Of more eenu-
inc sorrow were shed than fre equen,ly fall when
''some poor child Of earth returns to dust -
There was no burial service read-none! His
mother was one Of Gods creatures, bat she had
ved-died-amongst the poor. She had be-
queathed no legaeies To charitable Institutions,
and the church volunteered no one to pray over
her paVper grave-no bell tolled forth iIs sol
emn luneral notes as she approached her final
resting place. No wondor that her son has
, since excl lined, "Oh miserable indeed IS the
lot Of the poor--a weary, struggling, self-deny-
ing life, and then a solitary death and an un-
blessed gravel'
1t was shortly after this that young Cough
commenced thai career which led hun, ia the
vigor Of his youth, to the terrible condition Of
the abandoned inebriaie. Up to this time lie
was under the sacred Influences Of . mothers
love, and those pious principles which only such
mother can inculcaie. Beng good singer.
an admirable story-teler, and most entertain
I ing mimic, his society was sought and won by
the thoughtless young men, who drank, and
considered themselves respectable. He began
TO attend the theatre instead Of the church, and
to forget the lessons Of wisdom which his moth
er had taught him, losing all relish for reilg-
ion, and neglecling his accustomed devo,ions.
, Finally, he entered on the stage IS a comic
singer, under an assumed name, and was so en-
cored as to be encouraged 10 regard the actor $
profession as the suumii Of his ambition.
He went from New York to Providence,
where he worked partly at his trade, being an
excellent book-binder, and performed low com
edy on the stage, until January, 1893, when he
wen, 10 Newburypor, worked awhile al his
trade, and then wen, on fishing voyage, being
absent three and half months, and narrowly
escaping with his life on two occasions. On
his return he resumed his trade, go, married,
and commenced housekeeping, with far pros
pecis of doing well, had not the ,yrant strong
drink again obtained the mastery over him. So
entirely did he give himself up to the bottle, that
his former dissolute companions gradually with
drew from his company. He became a father,
bot death removed the little one at TOO early an
age for him 10 realize The loss as much as if i.
had lived longer TO engage his affections
Shortly after this, his wife wen. 10 Provi.
denee to nurse his invalid sister, who had also
married, He drank habiiually for the FIRST
three days Of her absence, in his own house
and narrowly escaped horrible death from
burning alive, by setting FIRE to the bed in which
he lay while too drunk to know his danger, IN.
Ill the neishbors dragged him from his bnrning
couch The fright sobered him for time
but he again sought refuge from his trouble,
in rum. Dein,1n IreRens followed--lhe Ter
rlble horrors Of which no man can describe $,
well as John b. Gough-nO man, perhaps, eve
felt them more keenly than he.
He was finally startled at the declining healll
of his wife, and the idea of her and himsel
coming to want, entirely in consequence of hi
habits, and he made another desperate struggl
10 reform. The tyrant again tri1mphed. Hi
wife and her infant both died, and he was agail
alone in The world. While they lay in the
house, he would steal from his lonely bed TO tin
place where his dead wife and child lay, an,