Litchfield enquirer., 1860-09-20

anu again ol the love and gratitude tha
 swell my heart. l think of you, and pra :, for you, and the dear children all the time
 My dear husband, you were my idol. l. lived only for you and myself Happy-O now happy in your love. forgot the han'
 that H loaded me with benefits, ,"-that show cred blessings in such profusions upon me! 5 needed ali the chastisement have received ] to arouse me from my forgetfulness and iu
 gratitude. But O, what cause for humilia tion, sorrow and regret,-that until m, } heart strings were breaking, should neve think of consecrating myself to him, wh'
 has done 30 much for me! Dearest husband avoid my example as you would avoid th
 bangs of remorse,-aud perhaps, final de , struction.
 have been source of great unhappines to you, my dear husband, ever since we wer, united. Had you found wife free from sucl defects as unfortunately had, how happy had you been! My only consolation is, tha It was my sincere and constant wish to please you, however far came short of it. o, for give me, for every pang ever cost you,- and think Of me with kindness and lenity when my many imperfections can trouble yor no more!
 * *
 know l need not enjoin it on you my dearest husband, to be kind to my father and to consider him, during life, as parent 1t IS very touching to see him now He re- tans his wonted selfcommand, but looks heart-breken at the prospect of losing his last remaining child. o, strive to console him in his utter loneliness! May he be sustained by Almighty strength. All, how unworthy am l of all this love and regret?- | * *
 Permit mo to request, dearest that they will praise the children when they do well The human heart needs commendaton for its encouragement in the path of rectitude; and we have the example of our blessed Saviour, and his inspired apostles, as sure warrant of it's usefulness and propriety * * *
 To-day I have been thinking of our part ing in November It came fresh to my memory, as an uuheeded sound will return on thc ear. The remembrance of your look of anguish when about leaving us, wrings my heart with sorrow and regret. How could l be so unfeeling then? Forgive me, c, forgive nc, dearest husbund!- "The shadows lengthen as my sun declines.''
 My heart at times, sinks in my bosom like lead. When the paroxysms of fever pass away, most distressing lassitude follows 0, that you were with me! o that might be permitted to breathe my last breath on your kind and affectionate bosom! But if it Is otherwise ordered, thy will, 0 Father, be douc!
 Dear husband, we shall meet again! Be- yond the grave all looks bright and glorious. Here, the shadow of death rests upon every thing However nnad hAyaxar, hee.n+t fiat fearful shade is by, to biust ara a~-.-.- But there is lile!-life ill unfading vigor, and bloom, and purity! You must--you will give your heart to the gracious Redeemer: that you may be made "meet to partake of the inheritance of the saints in light" aud then in what blessedness shall we meet to part no more--foreyer! Precious, cheering, sustaining thought!
 My huttering heart, my trembling hand, and the irregular characters that l trace, admonish me that what do, must be done quickly. Once mere, dearest husband, per nit me to express to you, the deep, the ar- dent, the fathomless love bear you. o, that could yet once again gaze on your face, with long-long look of love and gratitude!-O, that could hear you pro- noOnce my fl full forgiveness.
 Were it not for parting with you, the dear children, and my father, I should feel no shrinking from death. o, supply mothers place to those helpless ones To you com- mend them. To God I commend both them and you.
 The letter ended thus abruptly. No doubt Helen hoped to write more, but her strength failed. Had the heart of Mir. Howard been capable of deeper love and regret, or more bitter selfupbraidng, than it already knew, and chldIike heart, now cold and silent in the grave, would have produced it. Re peatcdly he laid it aside, as more than he could bear; but would seize it again with as much eagerness, as if its contents would rend the cloud of darkness in which he was enve- oped,-or restore to him his lost treasure. The life of mourner would be short in deed, did he always feel as during the first months of bereavement; but our infinitely wise and benevolent Creator has so consti- tuted us, that the bitterness of grief will pass away. As time rolled on, the agony of MT. Towards sorrow subsided-but he was al- ways mourner Helen was enshrined in his heart, and there was no room for a new love- In vain were attractions displayed to the still young and elegant widower; he saw them not. In vain was deep sympathy ex- pressed for the motherless condition of his children; he understood not it's purport.- And when two or three years after Helen's death, Mir. Atwood himself inquired if his happiness would not be promoted by marry. ing again." he ended the subject forever by saying ....... "Never mention it, my dear sir. Heller was too gentle, too good, too lovely for me too gentle, too lovely for earth. never de served such treasure; but having possessed her, could l ever hope to love another?" s," Beside" pursued he, mentally, " l coult never treat another so barbarously as dif
 her; and should I treat successor mor' , tenderly, would not those. gentle eyes ever b. looking on me in their sorrow, that it wa not thus with her? No Helen cruel ant
 uufeeling as was, loved thee--and 1 vii f love thee-thee alone-till we meet il , Heaven."
 To MT. Atwood, MT. Howard was eve