Morning Star

MISCELLANY.

A Horrible Species of Business.

Not many months ago a very respectable man, aged about 45 years, who had been for several years a sexton of one of our principal churches fell sick at his residence at No. — in — street.

His sickness at first was not considered dangerous. His family physician attended him as usual — but in a short time it was ascertained that some potent remedy must be adopted or all would soon be over.

"Do you think I am in danger, Doctor!" asked the sick man.

The physician was loth to say so — as physicians generally are in such cases.

The sick man lingered and grew worse. "Oh! doctor, doctor," said he, "there is something that preys on my mind — something even worse than this fatal disorder."

The patient tossed and tumbled about — was restless, thoughtful and entirely absorbed in some mental calamity. His wife attempted to soothe him — talked of Heaven and mercy — but all would not do. The physician was equally unsuccessful in all his endeavors to soothe the disturbed mind of the dying man.

"Take away your physic, Doctor — it is useless — it cannot administer to a mind diseased."

The physician and the sick man's family talked over the matter with great seriousness. They could not conjecture what was the cause of the disturbed fancies of the poor dying man. The wife had lived a long and respectable life with her husband. He was a sexton of one of our most respectable churches, and had always enjoyed the esteem of the clergy and congregation by whom he was employed.

In this dilemma it was therefore determined to ascertain what lay so deeply upon his conscience. The Doctor one afternoon turned the attention of his patient to the subject that troubled him.

"Can you not tell me, Mr. — what troubles you so deeply?

"Oh! doctor, doctor, don't speak of it — Oh! it gnaws me to the quick. Look, I see their very faces glaring upon me — horror! horror! horror!"

The physician soothed him as he would have soothed a child. "It will relieve your mind" said he to the sick man.

"Oh! God! I wish I could get relief — see doctor, see them all there pointing their skinny fingers. There's Mrs. . whom I sold for 20 dollars. She asks me for the money — here she stands! my God! my God! I have not got the money — I did not get but half, the other sexton got part — go to him, Oh! horror, horror, horror, horror!"

"My dear sir," said the physician mildly, "you are raving — you are talking of shadows."

"Heavens, Doctor! do you call those persons shadows? See one of them coming into the room. Shut that window, and bar the shutters — I see old Mrs. — just trying to get in. There's her winding sheet. She says I sold her for fifty dollars — Oh! no, no, no — I only got thirty."

The physician then, to humor his poor distracted patient, went to the window and closed the shutter.

"Look there, doctor — there's a young woman that I took away after being a couple of days in the grave. She cries out against me — she cries and tears her hair — Oh. oh, oh!"

The physician found that all his efforts were fruitless; after calling in the wife and family of the dying man, they partly succeeded in quieting the tumult which agitated his bosom. He would, however, listen to no effectual consolation until they would promise to call in a highly respectable clergyman whom he named, to minister some pious comfort to his last hours, which were now rapidly drawing to a close.

Accordingly a message was immediately despatched, the venerable clergyman came, and the sick man on perceiving him, desired all to withdraw, except the man of God. When left entirely together, after some struggles, the sick man unfolded to the astonished clergyman, one of the most extraordinary practices which could be dreamed of in a christian community.

It appeared that the dying man, who was a sexton for several years, had been in the habit, secretly and at night, of abstracting the corpses of such persons as were buried in the grave yard he had charge of, and of selling them for subjects of dissection to the physicians around town, and even sending them into the country. In conjunction, it is supposed, with a person now alive, who was then also a sexton, it is believed that a most extensive business of this kind was carried on for several years — and that it was found so lucrative, that both individuals, originally quite poor when they became sextons, became rich and respectable in a very few years.

By the rules and regulations applicable to church yards and sextons, those officers had full and free access at all hours, to all the public and private vaults under their charge. The remains of the dead deposited in the private vaults were generally untouched — but those buried in the church yard, or those deposited in the public vaults, were considered the property of the sextons, and they disposed of their horrible merchandize accordingly, to the highest bidder among the medical faculty.

The remembrance of being thus engaged in such a business caused the agonized terrors of the dying man, and made him restless, until a clergyman was called to minister comfort to a mind diseased on his death bed. And in order to show that we do not state these fearful details without some good foundation, we now openly call upon Bishop Onderdonk of this city, to say whether he ever heard of such a case as we have detailed, or any one similar to it — or whether he was the clergyman who attended the last moments of the repentant man. His associate is still alive, and doing a good business in this city, but not as a sexton.

N. Y. Herald.