A HEAETBENDING SCENE.

Thames Star, Volume X, Issue 3104, 29 January 1879, Page 1

A HEAETBENDING SCENE.

God help the poor women who have gone down to the gates of death in London, Paris, Dresden, Berlin, and other places victims of an ambition, which at home, might have secured them employment in some respectable capacity; bat here, no door offering, they hare perished. Is this a fancy sketch ? Listen. In 1872 there came a young lady from America as gorerness. It appears that the lady who engaged her discharged her from no other fault but that of refusing to take a servant's situation, in addition to the duties of those of a gorerness. The following letter speaks for itself. In despair she went to Westminster Bridge, threw aside her hat and shawl, and plunged into the Thames. A polifla^offiaer wJm* saw her went to her rescue, but toof' late ;•'life was extinct. Next a funeral was got np for her, and a monument was erected over her grave. Thus for bread she was given a stone! This letter was found in her room:—'London, Sept. 3, 1872. No. 171, High street, Shad well — The crime I am about to commit, and that I must suffer for hereafter, is nothing compared to my present misery. Alone in London, not a penny, or friend to advise or lend a helping hand, tired and \ weary with looking for something to do, failing in every way, footsore and heartweary, I prefer death to another wretched morning. I have been in Britain only nine weeks. I came as a nursery governess with a lady from America to Wick, in Scotland, whence she discharged me, refusing to pay my passage back, gi»ing me my wages which amounted to £3 10s. After my expenses to London I found myself in this great city with only ss. What was I to do? I sold my watch. The phi try sum I obtained from that >oou went in paying for my board, and in looking for a situation. Now, I am destitute; every day is a misery to me. No friends—no hope—no money. Oh, God of Heaven, have mercy upon a poor helpless sinner! Thou knowest I have striven against this; but fate is against me. I cannot tread the path of sin, for my dead mother will be watching me. Fatherless, motherless, home I have none; oh, for the rarity of Christian hearts! I am not mad. for days I have forseen that this would be the end. May all who hear of my end forgive me, and may God Almighty do so before whose bar 1 must soon appear. Farewell to all this beautiful yet wretched world. Alick Bdakchb Oswald. I am 20 years of age on the 14th of this month.'