Public ledger. [volume] (Memphis, Tenn.) 1865-1893, 1874-08-26
FLORA HARDING.
George q. Hardfug's Tribute 60 His
Lost Daughter.

G. Harding, editor of the indianapolis
Sunday Herald shot Sol Moritz for
seducing his daughter. Moritz will
recover, but will lose an arm, which
was shattered by one of the shots. Flora
Harding was brilliant, accomplished
girl, having a bright literary future be-
fore her, but who unfortunately fell a
victim to the wiles of man. who pro-
fessed to be her fathers bosom friend.
She confessed her sins to her father and
took poison, her sensitive soul shrinking
from the sneers Of heartless world,
which would forever point at her the
finger Of scorn and speak of her as
lost and wicked woman. Her father,
while on his way to a physicians Office,
met Moritz on the street and shot him
several times. The following tribute to
the memory Of the dead was written by
the unfortunate journalist in the pres
ence Of the dead body Of his child 1t
is a wall of broken heart, crushed
spirit, which cannot fail to touch the
sympathetic chords in every human
breast:
THE BEREAvED FATHERS FAREWELL.
Indianapolis Herald. August %
Z HARDING-At the residence of her father,
No. 20 Pratt street, on Wednesday last, Miss
Flora X. HARDING, daughter of George @.
Harding, aged nineteen years.
A noble life, full of promise, has gone
out in shame. She loved much and she
suffered much. Her sorrowful soul, re-
leased from earth-burdens, has gone to
meet it's God to lay before Him the cruel
wrongs for which earth has no redress.
Poor, fond heart, illstarred from birth,
yeur tempestuous beatings are stilled,
your restless longings will trouble no
morel Hers was joyless childhood,
warped and distorted by relentless cir
cumstances. Her womanhood is blasted
in the bud Despite unfortunate traits
and unhappy moods, in which she seemed
to move and act as if under some weird
SPELL her underlying nature was noble,
generous, unselfsh, self-sacri6cing, with
an honest pride which would scorn to do
a mean action. The unhappy circum-
stances attending her childhood had i'm
pressed her nature with an inefface-
able tinge of melancholy. She was
Respondent always, rather than san
guine. Papa" she said to me
once, when a cherished desire was
thwarted, and l was endeavoring to con-
sole her; don't distress yourself about
me. Ny entire life has been a disap-
pointment." Notwithstanding the SOM
L 10 N,,ra he ut 70
almost unnaturally vivacious But even
in her most CHEEKY moments an appar-
emit consciousness of the falseness and
hollowness of earthly things could be
noted. Her deepest and profoundest
feeling, the one which was ever present
and was never overshadowed by dou BITS,
OF obscured by less worthy sentiments,
was love for her unhappy father. This
| love had taken root in her infantile
mind at an age when impressions are
easily effaced, but it grew without nur-
ture, and seemed to strike deeper its
roots and grow more luxuriant in leaf
] and bloom the more it was deprived of
| light and air. 1t survived absence, ap-
parent neglect, hostile influences; and
so soon as she was Of age she came to
the father whose love she had never
| doubted.
In her religious nature she was peeu-
liar She had the profoundest venera-
ton for Deity aud sublime confidence
in His business, but she had no sympa-
thy with creeds or the forms of religion.
| She believed in the law of compensa-
ton, and having known bat little save
unhappiness, she believed that the fu-
ture, either on earth or in heaven, had
recompense in store for her She often
tested on the subject of suicide and, on
one occasion, being reproved and told
that God frowned on self-murder, she
said Papa, | am not afraid Of God.
There were few brighter intellects than
Flora's and her future was full of prom
Use. She had a remarkably felicitous
command of language, and was exceed
ingly versatile. While she knew moth
ing of politics, her familiarity with re-
condite subjects was wonderful In
reasoning she was subtle, and in thought
she was powerful and searching. She
had determined on literature as a pro-
fession and had she lived would have
made her mark in the world of letters.
The cruelest reflection in this hour of
bitterest agony is that her father might
have been less stern and more sympa'
thetic in his intercourse with her, though
be could not have loved her more. With
two such natures an estrangementis apt
to raise up an invisible but impossible
barrier, and while there may be no
spoken word of unkindness, tie reserve
is infinitely more cruel and eating than
words could be, The unhappy secret
the first Withholding of confidence
caused such feeling, apd this was onl
broken down the night before her death,
when, on her fathers breast with her
arms about bis neek, in heartbroken
sobs she told him tie dreadful story, and
pleaded for bis forgiveness, not so much
Tor her ain as for the want OF confidence
in him. All vas forgiven, and father
and daughter once more reoonciled.
Even then she had determined on sur
eide. and that last heartbreaking inter
view. so sweet to remember and yet so
sad. must be invested with all the sane
-t;ty of deathbed revelation.
Through that long last day Of suffer
ing / watched with her, alternately
cheered by hope and torn with the an
guish Of despair, and with the last gasp,
as the suffering soul took its tremulous