Litchfield enquirer., 1844-09-12


 Stooo aIoof Tn their awe, and left them to the ca oi nm who Tn his most dreadful judgments is sti
 the God ofmercy For an hour the parents were left alone in tb, chamoer-ior scenes of suffering there are, whic 10 witness Is almost to profane None XUept no.
 them; and the few dear friends thai were in fh
 house dropped away one by one to their own homes me servants watched every louder groan that ech oeo through the stiffness of the dark and in whs
 Pers spoke of the sainty character of the believe,
 oead' "Ioo good was she," they, said; too beau
 cIul 10 live long;" and she who had tended he
 rom her birth showed ringlet of her hair cut of
 during her last mortal sleep, while many tear fel
 on It's golden glow from eyes little used to weep
 ana sentiments were expressed by those humbi, folk most affecting in their purity and solemnity k sucn IS the influence of sacred sorrow on the spirit. of all the children the dust.
 Hurried feet were heard descending the stair and tne sound dled away at a distance in the outey night. The old nurse ventured into the room. and 10! with one arm below the head of the corpse and .he oner across Its breast lay the mother in pro- louho sleep! Both faces were alike pale, and the same angellcal smile was on but no one else was present, and it was plain that the father had sought, Tn his distraction, the less insuIerable sol itude of the woods glens, now shone over by the midnight moon and stars.
 On he went, blind and deaf to all outward things yer tunconsclousy drawn, as if by the power of some invisible spirit, towards the solitary parish church that stood, among its multitude of burial heaps un der the gloom of an old pine-grove. Lonesome was the road he took, up ravine darkened with trees ana hiled with the constant thunder of waterfalls 10 ms car the place was silent as the grave. Un- appalled, he passed along the edges of precipices, and close to the brink of many an abyss, like one walking in his sleep, and to whom danger is not, because he has no fear. The confused sense of some unlmaginable calamity drove him along for hls soul ln its passion could no longer grapple with realities, and all it knew was that there had been most dismal death. Misery more than man could endure was quaking at his heart-but his reason was so shaken, that it lost hold of the cause why of all Gods creatures on this wretched earth he should be the most wretched and thus ordered out forever and ever into the haunted wilderness
 There came pause to his agony, and lifting up his eyes, once more he knew the heavens and Wepf. Then the image of his child lay before him, with Its face looking up to all those glorious luminaries and he remembered that she was dead. His seat was sravestone-the shadows of the church. tow CT lay across the moonlight burial ground--and the iar-of mysterious murmuF of midnight was as a sound from mother world, ..
 Then arose, Tn the silence of that lonesome church-yard, the claTnor of grief tbat knew not how great 1t was till, far away from human voice and eye, it thus poured itself forth like torrent, sounding along when all living things were asleep. All the blessings that Providence bestowed, ,-so many, so pure, so high, and so undeserved, ,-were now all forgotten, or remembered in bitterness of spirit, almost with an upbraiding ingratitude " What means the goodness of God, since he has gathered all his gifts into one and then destroyed them all by one dread decFees Better, oh better far that she had never been born n,that smiles such as hers had never been, since they have all passed away,--that mine eyes had never seen her kneeling m prayer-that- Oh thou great, and thou dreadful God! is her voice indeed mute forever?-Can it be that Emeline is dead d,and soon, soon to be bu- rcd smong these hideous tonbstones !" He dashed himself down acold stone slab, green with the moses of many years, and writhing like wounded worm, mutered curses on his existence, supplica- tions for pardon, walngs for the dead and prayers in behalf of her over whom, although he now knew 1t not, God had thrown the mantle of a profound sleep, out of which she to awake in perfect signaton, even with her only child lying corpse in her bosom!
 A shadow moved over the church-yard, there was a sound as of steps, and the miserable man felt himself in the presence of some one whom he could not yet discern. The feeling of that presence dis armed his grief,-something like shame for his weakness blended with the recollection of its rue- full cause, ,-and started to his feet, by sudden eff fort of sef-command, he prepared himself to be seen and spoken to by one of his fellow christians The figure of an old man stood close beside him, and he at once recognized the solemn countenance of him who had been praying to his daughter on her death-bed. It tseemcd as if tears were in those aged eyes; pity overspfead all his features, pity was III HIS JOCKS WHte as the snow, pity trenfoleo in his folded hands, and pity bent down that body more even than the weight of three score and ten years My son, this is a sacred place, and God will to the prayers of contrite heart send down peace from heaven-even the Holy Ghost, the Comforter. bid thee to be of good cheer,-tor where can mortal creatures like SO feel the van ity of sorrow as in the field of graves?
 Thsre was long silence, during which the hea- vens became more serene, each large lustrous star seeming nearer to the earth, and the solitary church-yard to be received into the very bosom of the sky. The soul of the bereayed father felt it's immortality; and the dreadful darkness rolled off from the decrees of Providence. The mystery of the dread of life grew more supportable; and he thought he heard the voice of an angel singing hymn. We'll known and dearly beloved was that voice! For many blessed years it had been heard amidst the shadow and sunshine of this earth; but now it wavered away far off into the blue celestial depths, murmurng holy, almost joyful, farewell.
 The old man bent over his son and wept. go father, for by that name from youth upwards have loved to call thee, join with me in bumblest sup plcation to heaven for pardon of my mad impiety.
 They knelt down together-he, that grey-head- ed man, who had long been familiar with sorrow, and we'll acquainted with grief, and he that had ne- yer before bowed down at the bidding of broken heart The signing and the sobbing were all now from the breast of hlm who had seemed unassaila- ble to earthly troubles. Drenched were his wrin- kled cheeks with tears, and ke bowed his white hairs down even to the flowers that smiled in the moonlight on grassy grave.
 go my son pray thou also for thy poor old fa- ther! for know that only a few hours before left my home to pray by little Emeline's bed, my own daughter--the sole daughter ofmy age-was called | away from me-my Lucy lies like thy Emelne- no moreno more than dust!'
 | o the great goodness, and the exceeding love ol inc human heart that all lifelong has been under