Year: 1868

BALTIMORE, Sept. Is, 1868.
''My Dear Friend, This is the last time
shall ever address you, for even before you re
ceive this I will be dead.


| Il will be as brief as [ can in stating the
causes that have led me to the commission o.
this act In my early youth my mother died
and my father having much business thai
called him from home, | was thrown into the
company of vicious, or rather, having no one
to restrain me, fell into vicious habits the most
| fatal of which was playing cards. The habit
grew on me so rapidly that almost before I was
| aware of it, I was satisfied nowhere save when
engaged in gaming. In sober, rejecting mo
ments | knew and realized that it was running
me, but so complete was the strange infatuation
that although resolved over and over again to
abstain, with each recurring temptation | was
sure to fall Life in the army contributed to
strengthen this terrible vice. However. for
some time after the war ceased, succeeded in
mastering my passion, and even fancied that
had so far overcome any desire in that direc
ton that would in future escape the snare,
but my strength of mind and purpose was not
sufficient and ever since my life has been con
slant warfare with this my besetting SIM


"a little over twelve months | sought to
strengthen my good resolutions by connecting
myself with the Church, and thus draw around
me the mantle of her projection. l succeeded
until [ came to Baltimore. l came here, as
you are aware, nearly bankrupt, and the insid-
ious whisperings Of hope that might retrieve
my broken fortunes kept whispering to me un-
til at last, unable to withstand temptation, |
fell and was lost I lost what money had. |
borrowed and borrowed again, still thinking
and hoping that streak of good fortune would
enable me to succeed. But why go farther?-
'Ts the same old story. Led on by blind in
fatuation that had not the strength to control,
lost until honor itself was lost. 'Tis that
that | cannot survive the loss of. You can
never know and scarcely dream of the agony
am feeling this moment. and the bitter, burn
ing remorse that is flowing over me In such a
food that my very heart-strings are swapping
one by one. Soon, very soon, the last will be
broken.


"Oh, my dear friend, never, never touch a
card, not even for amusement. | commenced
for amusement [ lost 81 $50 at faro bank.
leave letter to him which | hope you will
deliver, asking him to return one-haf to my
family, who are left destitute [ desire that
you will take charge of my remains and convey
them to Fincastle. and have them inferred in
the Methodist churchyard; also take charge of
my trunk, etc. have suit of clothes and
one pair of pants at Ohems, on Pratt street.
Burgh knows where they are. My watch and
d ;
you will find ticket in my memorandum book.
Had [ simply lost this money without deceiv-
ing any one, would not mind it. 1t was the
first dishonest act Of my life. | cannot survive
disgrace. / can never more respect myself |
have been unfortunate in business, and some
times could not pay when | ought but | could
always look man in the face until now.
''My family will be left destitute, but they
are innocent, and God has promised care for
| the widow and orphan. If [ could have had
| any hope that some kind friend would have lis
tened to my tale Of shame, and then helped
me out of it until could have gone to work
and paid him. But who would trust me after
"a confession that | had deceived others? On
what would [ give to undo the past two weeks
| All the letters | have written | leave in youl
charge, to be forwarded to their destinations
Inform the house | am living with of my end
If you telegraph to Fincastle, do so to james
H. H. Figgat. IF you can spare the none!
| sixteen dolIars) wish you would redeem my
watch and chain, and give it to my little bo,
''Gilbert Lee, but do not do SO unless eonven
lent.


''Your unhappy and ruined friend,


III Nj. Becky"