Litchfield enquirer., 1863-04-09

thoughts passed through her mind.
 Fanny Talbot was an orphan, whose parents
 had lived in a beautiful country village of New England. They both died before Fanny was ten years old, and from that period she had found a home in New York, with Mrs. Ches- ter, her fathers sister. Being an only child, she had inherited her fathers fortune, which was handsome one, so that in pecuniary point of view she was entirely independent of her relatives. -s,. s.
 Faany had no recollection of her father, but she had most sweet and tender memories ofher mother, who had survived him several years. That beloved mothers pale face, her sweet voice, all the sweeter for the touch of sorrow in it, and her delicate, slight figure, on which dis case had laid it's hand, ere all indeliby i'm pressed upon the heart of that orphan child She remembered, too, the pleasant walks they had taken on the banks of the little stream, the hymns her mother had sung to her at twilight, and the prayers she had offered as they knelt side by side in their quiet home. There were sweet pictures painted on her memory of green fields with yellow dandelions and red clover blossoms; of hills covered with tall dark pines, and of the little brook which wound in fanciful curves through the old pasture and often when surrounded with brick walls and crowded streets, these pictures had risen before her with calm and refreshing influence. Like gold en thread these recellectiens had run through the web of her life, blending with it's varying texture almost imperceptibly, yet imparting to it bright, fresh hue it would otherwise have lacked.
 But Fanny's character had been still more influenced by the remembrance of her mothers dying hours. Never could she forget the sick-room, with it's darkened windows, or the awe crept over her young soul, as she stood by the bedside and watched the pallid cheek, and the fitful, laborious breathing nor the morning when she found that room was vacant, when no mothers loving face was there no soft, ,low voice to whisper, Good morning, dear, ,-noth ing but silence and desolation,s such as only death can bring.
 Many years had passed away Fanny had re- ceived an expensive education, and was now entering society with all the advantages which youth, cultivation of mind, and elegance of manner gave. Her aunt had been affectionate and kind, almost as her own mother, but she differed widely in one respect she was fash ionable, worldly woman who attached great importance to outward show, and had never felt the constrainng power of religious princi- pie. But the last wish and the last prayer of the dying mothers heart had been answered. and amid the temptations 10 different course which had surrounded her, Fanny had been led to love'holiness, and to consecrate herself cheerfully and fully to the service of her Sa. viour. But she was far from perfect. Natur- ally gentle and yielding, she too often glided thoughtlessly with the current, and found it very difficult to do what her conscience dicta- ted and very often she mourned bitterly over her deficiencies, and resolved to make new eff. forts for progress in the heavenly life.
 On the evening to which we have referred, as she sat aloue in her luxuriously furnished room, a train of self reproachful thoughts pass ed painfully through her mind. She saw she was wasting life-fritterng it away to no good purpose. I am perpstually busy thought she, but what do I accomplish Whom do | make better or happier? What except selfish entertainment and enjoyment do aim at or achieve! Yet have health, time, and some little portion of wealth at my command. Oh, it ought not, must not be ss" Bitter and re pentent tears filled her eyes; the image ofher mother rose before her, and she felt that if she had lived, it would have been easy for her to be good. But all this is weakness she said at length, rising and going to the window am old enough to know my duty and to do it, with out leaning on any earthly arm. l must learn to surnount difficulties, and to gain some char acter and indepeadence.' And she resolved - alas, not for the first time, that she would be mere desidcd, would save time, would seek out objects of charity and relieve their want. would be self-denying and thoughtful of others, in all her daily life.
 She was conscious of having spent large proportion of her income foolishly on her. self entirely, but certainly to no available pur- pose. She had often given impulsively, but she had been too indoIent to adopt active and systematic measures for the relief of suffering. Now she resolved to give time and labor as well as money to the woes and wants of her fellow creatures, and to practice self-denial in their behalf. She raised the curtain and look ed out into the night. From the windows op- posite, a bright gleam, softened by the crimson drapery, shone out, and the notes of piano fell upon her ear. Beyond were innumerable roofs and chimneys, peering one above another till all were lost in the darkening distance Below, the crowd were still passing to and fro "a mingled mass of human beings, each with his own burden of care and toil, of crime and sorrow. An, over how many souls does the Great Father keep His watch,' said Fanny, as
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