The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1884-01-15

MARIETTA JOHNSON'S LETTERS.
A Loyal Friend and Admirer Enters a Plea
for the Suicide.

Mary Maine, in Chicago Tribune.
A light touch of the trigger, a flash, a mOmen-
tary thrill of pain, d sigh. and the fair scenes of
earth go out forever on the vision of Marietta
johnson, the friend of my earlier years!
1t reads smoothly and easily, does it notl Not
a very unpleasant transit from one world to
another after a life with "a questionable romance
in it, But who shall tell us of the mysterious
motive power that raised that soft, womanly
hand against her own loved lifel Who shall
tell what sad secret those locked, long-lashed
eyelids have set their seal upon} Whether
of shame or injustice, L may never know;
whatever it might be, the cruel, self
imposed penalty is paid to a f~arthing, the deed
recorded, and my friend, whose memory is only
allied to all things innocent and fair, lies out
under the snow in the dishonored grave of a
suicide, with all things made clear to a super
fetal world, save that awfu conflict in the
hours OF darkness between the love of life and
the hunger for the rest and promised peace of
the grave!
Not long since the sympathy of the people
was excited over the announcement of the sor-
rowful circumstance of the death of Mrs. Sena-
tor Allison, of Iowa, by suicide. With reason
ueU1rOnSeu DuD SuU6ll0SS real, Une ldlu JIldJ
led her down to the waters edge was resistless,
and of the conflict on that rivers brink no one
shall ever know. With kind friends. the pleas
ures of prosperity and even the lights of home
calling her ack-and the fearful fascination of
the dark waters at her feet Turing her down!
There must have been a moment in that hour
beyond power TO paint which was the victor,
love of life or the spirit of suicide, the heavily
freighted, human burden dripping and dead, the
result of the next days search proved.
How alEc tba nnyVa that 1aA noch ON INV
friend and this unhappy woman), but how differ
emily viewed by the outside world! How differ
emily they look down upon these two freshly
made graves!-on one with all sweetness and
tender compassion, untouched by shame; on the
other-ah, mel Cannot the offering of that gra-
cious gift, ones life, purchase some scant charity
and a touch of pityl More than this can no
man give" And | know life was sweet to my
friend in her girlhood days. How well | can now
remember every incident of my last visit to her.
Life at that time was presenting its sterner as
poets, and yet she found beauty and much to love
in it. 1t was in a certain populous Western
town, and the family home was the best to be
rented at that time, and was an old-faShloned,
'tumbie-downH affair-the swayed roof smooth
cred with moss, and the half-ruined porch over
grown with 1iotous vines. The doors were open
to the sunshine, the bees rumbled in the porch,
and a humming-bird was fitting in and out the
doors, encouraged by her kind, friendly face, and
allured on and on by a bouquet she set in the
porch, moving it nearer and nearer each day to
the door, until they sought its sweets in the very
room in which we sat. She told me of all her
perplexities in a frank, girlish way; of her foolish
little ambitions (great enough to her them, of
her plain, old-fashioned surroundings; of
thwarted hopes, offended tastes; of her great
struggle to keep up an appearance (which every
spirited young girl desires). and constant effort
to make her home pleasant and attractive. cts
an everyday war" she said, with mold, mil
dew and decay. l spend most of my time
patching and p%ropping, but fear the old place
will rattle down about our ears some windy
night. But she added, her fine, dark eyes
Frightening as she looked out across the
garden, running over with a wild, unkept con
fusion of old-fashioned flowers, ''the world is
very beautiful outside, after all, and / love to
livei l can't be quite a model society girl, but |
have lots of friends the world doesn't know of.
I've made friends with the humming birds, the
bees and the butterflies. They fly to meet me
the first thing in the morning when / step out
on the porch" That's because you always car
ny sweets in your hand, Marietta, said her gen
tie, invalid mother. Eyes" she said laughing,
but all friendship requires feeding" Few
young girls could take such rational views of
life, and CLOSING over its rough places, sur
round themselves with an atmosphere Of refine
ment and content, and accept so sensibly, and
with enjoyment. the beauties of ltheinatural
world as a substitute for the privileges of wealth
and all the pretty gilded friyolities of society so,
dear to all young girls.
An affectionate memory of Marietta Johnson's5
early life leads meto make a record here of her
sweet, innocent giTlhood, hoping it,may shine
out as one silver line amid the many dark para
graphs in regard TO her that are to-day floating
on the ''sea of print" If a chapter of shame
crept into the history of her married life, then,
indeed, were all the promises of a discreet,
modest, and virtuous youth signally violated;
and then, indeed, may every mother in the land
tremble for her carefully-reared daughter if a
combination of mighty temptation, aiding and
abetting circumstances, and suspicious time
assail them!
You don't believe it, fair womenl OF course
not. In times of peace who dreams of war; In
trenched behind your strong walls of friendly
circumstance, and peeping through your little
portfolios of prosperity, you deem yourselves
unassailable, and scorn the weakness that falls
before shot and shell of temptation. But come
out of that Meet the enemy on his own grounds,
with all odds in his favor There are such situa-
tons, fair Pulitans!), and if his arrows don't find
some vulnerable spots in your armor | am not
a woman or you are angels of heavenly mist, and
not fair representatives of our SEX There is an
objectionable sin mentioned in the Bible.
The Creator makes that sin one thing
and society makes it another. The Crea-
tor defines it as 'blasphemy against
the Holy Ghost and society defines it as a
woman tempted, and, being tempted, ~yieldingl
viii any sage, philosopher, or divine of the
present age tell me why pardon is purchasable
for every other sin in the calendar of crime save
thiss Why no lifelong penance and p%enitence
can wipe out this transgression} Why is it worse
than robbery of widows and orphans, and muir
der or ~forgery2 In this instance the offender
gives what is her own, impoverishing no one, but
makes herself poor indeed; in the other the help
less and innocent are crushed and ruined. There
is, or should be justice in the scales, and the
heavy weights should not hang all on one side.
The woman who has erred does well to end her
life, for there is no spot, however small, mean,
and secluded for her on the face of this wide
earth! There's my glove, pick it up who may.
A Bride of Two DAYS,
New HAVEN, Conn, Jan. 4.-William Hale,
who died quite suddenly, was one of New Ha-