Litchfield enquirer., 1856-10-09

indeed very polite. and could not find words to express her love and respect for us She ad- yised us to go ts Colswood, and buy the little meat We wanted of him, aS be is richer man, and is able to wait for his money. cared DO, to tell the good woman how that usurer treat ed us year ago, when he charged us penny a pound more than others for his meat, and when his oaths and curses could not help him out, and he could not deny it, how he declared roundly that he must receive little interest when he was kept out of his money whole year, and then showed ps the door.
 l still have in ready money @ Is. 3d.- What shall 1 do, if no one will trust me, so that may pay my bills quarterly? And if Dr. Snarl appoints another curate, then must I aud my poor children be turned into the street
 Be 1t so God is in the street.
 De- l9, early, A. MI awoke very early to-day, and ponuered what l shall do in ny difficult situation. 1 thought Of Master Sit tug, my rich cousin at Cambridge only poor people have 10 cousins, ouly the rich. Were New Years Day to bring me bishops mltre, according to Po.ly's dream, then 1 should have half ot Engand for my relations.
 have written and sent by the post the fol- lowing letter to the Rev. Df. Suarl:
 |" 1 write With an anxious heart. It is said that your reverence intends to appoint another curate ID my stead l kuow not whether the report has any toundat.on, or whether it has arlsen merely tror. my having mentioned to some persous the interview l had With you.
 The office with which you entrusted me, have discharged with Zeal and fidelity have preached the word of God in all purity l l have heard no complaints. Eyeu my inward montor coudemns me not. l humbly request ed for a little increase Ill my small salary Your reverence spoke of reducing the small stlpeud, which scarcely suilices to procure me and my family the bare necessarles of life. Let your humane heart decade.
 '' have labored sixteen years under your revereuce's plous predecessors and year aud half under yourself. l am now fifty Years od. My hair begn's to grow gray. Without acqaautanccs, without patrons, withogt the prospect Of another llylng, without the mealIs oi earulng my bread in any other way, mine aud my cullureus' fate depends upon your eom- passion. Ii you fail us, there relnaius no sup port tor us but the beggar's staff.
 ." My daughters, gradually grown up, occa- siou, wlth the closest ecohony, increased ex- pense My eldest daughter Jcnuy, supplies tue place of d mother to her sister ana con- ducts our domestic concerns. Me keep no mad my daughter is maid, cook, washerwo- man, talloress, and even shoemaker, while am the carpenter, mason, chimuey-sweepcr, wood cutter, gardcuer, farmer, aud wood-carrler of the household.
 Gods mercy has attended us hitherto. We have had uo sickness. We could not have pald for medicines. = is a little place.
 My daughters have ill vain offered to dc other work, such as wasb.ug, mendlng aud sewing. They very rarely get any. Here in the country, every one does her own house. work noue are rich.
 1t wli be hard task to carry me and mine through the year upon 420; but 1t will be harder sttll II am to attempt 1t upon 4l5- But 1 throw myself upon your compassion and On God, and pray your reverence at least to relieve me ot this anXlety."
 Alter l had finished this letter, l threw myself upou my.knces. (wh,le Poiy carried 1t to the post-otlice,) aud prayed for Il happy ls- sue. then became wonderfully clear and calm in my miud. Ah a word to God is al- ways word lrom God--so cheertuly came l from my little chamber, which l had ,eutered wtl u heavy heart. Jenny sat at work in the window. Sne sat there with the repose and grace oi all angel. Light seemed to stream rom her looks 4 sieuder sunbeam came through the window, and transGgured tue who.e place. 1 was in heavenly state. seated myself at the desk, aud wrote my ser men, "Uu the Joys of Poverty"
 preach lii the pulpit as much to myself as to my hearers ; sua come from church edi. fed, ii no one else does If others Go not It. cetye consolat,or from my words, iiuo 1t my. self. It Is with the clergyman as with the physician. He knows the power of his Ded cines, but not always their effect upon tue con stltution of every patient.
 The same day, 4 M-This morning re ceyca a note irom stranger who had tarried over mgnt at tue iun. He begs me, on ac count oi urgent affairs, to c0me to hm. 1 l have been to hun. l found hlin a hand some young man ot about tweuty-Six, with no <. bic features aud graceful carriage. He hat Oil all old well-Woru sartout and boots, Whlcf -s.,ll bore the mark of yesterdays travel. Hr round hat, although originally of a hner mate rlal than nine, Was still lar .inore 'aefaced ant shabby. The young man appeared, notwth standing tine derangement oI his dress, to be o good fa,nily. He had on at least a clean shir yof the finest linen, which perhaps had jus
 been given him by some charitable hand
 He led me iuto pFYate room, begged par |.dou u thousand tunes for having troubled he
 and proceeded to inform me ln very Inimbl
 ,aanuer, that he found hrmself ill most painiu clrcumstances, that he kuew nobody iu thi place where he had arrived last evening An