Morning Star

For the Morning Star.
NARRATIVE SKETCHES, NO. 3.
May 1, 1844. Was invited by Eld. S. to accompany
him to a funeral, three miles distant.
Accepted the invitation; and we soon arrived at
the place, which proved to be "the house of
mourning" in reality. The individual whose remains
were to be interred, had committed suicide
in old age. As it was at an early hour, and
but few had collected, we had a good opportunity
to become informed in relation to the circumstances
of this awful death. We were shown
the corpse, and I gazed for a time at the lifeless
remains of that once active individual, with
deep sensation. I thought, how frail is man.—
How vain are all things here below. Solemn
indeed were my feelings, and painful my reflections.
The individual before me had murdered
himself. With his own hands, given him for
nobler purposes, had he done the fatal deed. I
had a cursory view of the dwelling; the barns;
the orchards; and the fields—all were inviting,
and bespoke plenty and comfort. But the
things of the world cannot secure happiness
to the restless soul, neither can they secure
life.
The funeral obsequies were performed at the
dwelling, in presence of a large collection of
people. The minister was so overcome that he
could preach but little; and a more solemn funeral
I am very certain I never attended. The
body was conveyed to a family burying ground
on the premises, in a pleasant field, and interred,
there to remain till called to come forth by the
sounding of the last loud trumpet.
It was thought by some, that Mr. L. was deranged.
How this was, I cannot tell. It may
be correct. He was considerably involved, and
it was thought his debts would soon crowd upon
him. There was some prospect of his losing his
property. The thoughts of this he could not
well endure. But after giving all these circumstances
their full weight in the probability of
their leading him to such a dreadful end, it must
be added that he was given to strong drink.—
This circumstance is not alluded to with the view
of casting reflections upon the dead, or of injuring
the feelings of living relatives; but it is that
I may raise a voice of warning to the living.—
Who can tell, that but for strong drink Mr. L.
might have met with a peaceful and happy end?
The amount of human woe and misery it brings
upon our fellow creatures, made in the image of
God, is more than can be told. And how ill-prepared
must the rum-seller be to meet his account
at the bar of God? How will the man
that put the cup to the mouth of Mr. L. feel to
meet him in the day of judgment; and then,
more sensibly than ever, realize, that he has aided
in his ruin for time and for eternity? Let
the rum-drinker and the rum-seller beware, lest
God smite them with a stroke, and there be none
to deliver.
WIGHTMAN.