The new Northwest. [volume] (Portland, Or.) 1871-1887, 1875-12-17

Ing 0ef SnOulQer, SalQs 'Mam0a, mere
is Mrs. Fenton." She raised her head a
! little then, took my offered hand, held
it for an instant, bnt with scarce return
of its pressure upon her own, and mo-
toned me to sit down beside her, re-
questing her daughter to leave us to-
gether in tones that sounded like the
echo of her dead voice-that voice I re-
membered as so clear and musical.
! We sat in silence for some minutes.
1 could not speak-she either could not
or would not. AS we thus sat, l noticed
| the changes in her whole appearance.
The face l remembered as full and oval
was almost heshless; the once bright
eyes hollow and dull, wearing an mex
pressibly mournful expressions; the
clear skin had become olive-colored, and
was drawn tightly over the sharpened
features, on which dwelt a look of great
mental anguish. The beautiful hair
had lost its brightness, looking, not so
much gray, as dead and lusterless. Her
whole form was shrunken and bowed,
and to the dignity and grace that form
erly characterized it, had succeeded an
appearance of utter helplessness, of cow
ering apprehension, as if some fearful
danger threatened. 1 may not have no.
ticed all this at once, but it was the i'm
preston carried away from that first
visit.
At length she broke the silence, for
my own lips were weakly closed, and
my tongue seemed chained.
'You find me altered, Sara"
eyes, my dear Ellen" replied 'you
have surely been very ill.,"
"Ill ~ she said, and paused-then,
''yes, if illness may be called that which
is one lingering agony brought on and
continued by ones own free will"
"Your own free will, Ellen? That
cannot be-surely it is beyond your
control"
"They tell me it is not. They despise
me because L cannot free myself from
this bondage, and they will make you
despise me-"
"That is impossible, for I believe in
you too thoroughly. If L could only
help you"
"I am beyond help; even my physi-
clans tell me that-though they need
not, feel it too surely. But you will
believe in me no longer, Sara, when you
know ALL"
Then she poured out in one resistless
tide of saddest eloquence, of which [ can
give but faint shadowing, the story of
her struggles and her despair. 1t would
: consume too much space to write this
conversation, or those that succeeded it,
fully as 1 can recall them; therefore, /
shall endeavOr to give in brief outline
all the sad history related to me from
time to time during these, my last in
terviews with my dear afflicted friend.
In lS3-, about ten years before the date
of our renewed intercourse, she suffered
feartully from a nervous disease, causing
almost sleepless nights for long period,
state of health brought on no doubt
by extreme debility. Living in the
country, several miles from any town,
or from any medical practitioner, she
struggled hard against the suffering and
increasing weakness it entailed, using
: such simple remedies as were recon-
, mended by friends, but without obtain
ing relief. At last her husband insisted
, upon calling in the aid of a physician,
who Immediately prescribed opium in
the form of mOrphia. This acted like
magic; subduing the pain and giving
r her, even on the first night of its use,
refreshing slumber, which she consid-
: cred boon to be thankful to God for,
! notwithstanding the succeeding nausea
of the morning.
. After time the opium became indis-
, pensable. The agony of pain, the weary
! nights returned, and her physician or
! dered from time to time an increase of
/ the dose, never warning her or her
i friends of the danger of continuing its
) use, or the Importance of leaving it off
\ as soon as practicable. When the ply
sIcian ceased his visits the remedy was
still at hand, and as the usual dose lost
q its power to quiet her nerves, she went
on increasing it until she, as well as her
husband, became alarmed at the large
r quantity necessary to produce the de-
! sired effect. l never knew the amount
of the dose reached, but suppose it to
have been very large. l do not believe
indeed l am very sure-it was never
: taken from any craving for excitement,
o nor from any love for the taste of the
drug, which ever remained exceedingly
p distasteful to her.
Her eyes were opened to her danger by
, what she thOnght a casual and mad
, vertent remark from a friend; though [
n think more probably dropped purposely
in her presence, and she made an at
T tempt to abandon its use. For awhile,
q hopefully; for a gradual diminution oil
the dose seemed to exert no unfavorable
q effect. But on its entire disuse, days Of
: intolerable pain and sleepless nights ot
r fearful agony ensued. Again the phy-
Il sician was summoned, and by his ad-
vice she resumed the use of the poison
Gus drug, finding it necessary to take
n larger uOSeS l1du OGlOTe. NE GApIGSsSU
!, surprise at the continued use, and al
the large quantities taken.
v Whose was the sin? If DIR. - had
= not made the opium disease his study,
d being regularly educated physician,
J.. he must have known the danger of q
t continued use of the drug, and his con-
3, sequent duty to guard against its abuse
: in all cases where felt called upon tc
e prescribe it. If it was his Ignorance,
d was it not in his case sinful ignorance
81 have tried" she said to me one day
s in despairing tones, when I spoke tC
8 her of the possibility of deliverance, 81
IS have tried again and again, but the
II suffering has been too fearful. DR.. -
/ told me that fearful consequences would
e follow, and that my nerves were sc
;. shattered that l would probably die in
J, the attempt; or what seemed more ter
s rible still, would become insane. My
r appetite failed entirely, and intense neu
# raIgic pain seized me in every part
e The slightest exertiOn of mind or body
j. was impossible to me. 1 was sunk in
it the Slough of Despond. 1t was useless.
e l know, Sara, you will think me weak
10 1 despised myself, but I went back
g. Even my husband-though his face wal
Y the image of despair when he said it
:; told me it was useless"
l, "Since then, Ellen ?'
ItSiDoa fbap 7 bo va NOT triad but n q ".