p. 221 | An Unknown Woman

International Tract and Missionary Society · Oakland, California · Apr 8, 1886

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 12, No. 14.

"An Unknown Woman."

THE journals of one Monday morning added another to the list of inscrutable crimes awaiting detection. The body of a young female was found, on Saturday, in an out-of-the-way and desolate locality in the town of Sharon, Mass., under circumstances thought to imply that the woman had been murdered a half-mile away and carried to that spot to be abandoned there. The fact of saddest significance to us about it is, that it is stated to be the body of "an unknown woman." Almost all the population of the town having gazed upon her features—not uncomely in the repose of death—declare her to be strange to them. And so far, after forty-eight hours of research, no clew to her identity had been found. No home was reported to miss her. No boarding-house, even, claimed her as an inmate for whom it had a quasi-responsibility. She had dropped out of this life, and seemed to have left no socket behind whose emptiness mourned her.

We have before referred to this sort of thing—which, alas, is no novelty in the annals even of New England crime. If we remember correctly, once, and not many months ago, where a somewhat similar enigma presented itself for solution, there were more than one hundred applications from homes which did miss one member, in many cases which had missed one for many months, to know whether the body, awaiting identification bore the semblance of that missing member or not.

But what kind of homes can these be, whose parents, or whose children, can thus disappear and leave no sign! And what kind of a past must such an incident reveal in such a home?

An unknown woman! Some mother was in pain at her birth-cry, and thought she was a sweet babe; and hushed her to rest upon her bosom; and taught her to talk all manner of dear words, as she began to prattle; and watched her expanding growth with loving eye, and proudly thought of good days to come for her. Yet here she lies, doubtfully, if not dishonorably, dead; and, somehow, something dreadful has come in to sever her from that mother's love and care, so that a great guilt lies between them, and nobody knows whose daughter she is.

Ah, fathers and mothers, if you want to avoid such a fate for those who are bone of your bone and flesh of your flesh, see to it that they have a home that is a real one; that they love it as the best place in the world for them! Keep them in at nights. Keep them out of the streets in the daytime. Watch their companions. Watch the books and newspapers they read, and see that they have such ones to read as will win and bless them. Watch their speech, and set them yourselves a good example therein. Keep the run of them by day and by night, remembering that the trouble of doing this is a part of the price of good citizenship, as well as of faithful humanity. And especially remember that, in such a world as this, there is no security that even your sons and daughters will go well, and prove an honor to you, and a blessing to the world, except as religion shall preserve them. Go, then, before them in that godly way which hath promise of the life that now is, as well as of that which is to come, and do your best to secure that they follow after.

And, boys and girls, if you want to make the most and the best of yourselves, be obedient, keepers at home, honest, honorable, faithful to every duty, humbly and gratefully uniting with your parents in all well-doing. Remember that you have but one life to live. Remember that a happy home is the happiest thing in that life, after godliness; and that "good times" on which home does not smile, almost always end in bad times and ruin. Don't drift off and be a waif floating on a perilous stream; if "anything happens," only to be known as "unknown."—Congregationalist.