N. Stonington, Sunday, Oct. 5^th 1862.

My own dear dearest darling Court:

                                                            Although you may not have received my last letter, yet it is so lonesome, and as I was thinking of you, I happened to think I would write to you, and Court—I have concluded that I will not always wait for you to answer my letters, as it may not be convenient for you at all times to write, but will write to you occasionally as I have opportunity, even though I may not have received an answer to my last, but Court though I have come to this conclusion, yet, I do not want you to neglect to write as often as you possibly can, for if I did not receive a letter from you once or twice a week certain, I could not stand it. Well my darling,/now that I have commenced I hardly know what to write, except to repeat the old story that I love you, love you, yes, but that don’t half express it. I cannot tell you how dear you are to me. Oh but if you were only here I’d show you. I guess I could find something to say then. I have been to church to-day. Last evening I attended the Lyceum with Lucy and Alice and went home with them and staid all night. The question was “Resolved that there is more happiness in the married life than in the single”. The question was decided in the affirmative, which was quite right I think, don’t you? Geo. Stillman was on the negative. He got up and said that he had not prepared himself to speak on the question, that he would not speak on the negative, and that/if they would have the question over again and choose him on the affirmative he would speak. The affirmative thought he spoke very well for their side. But Oh dear I did not enjoy the debate, because my dear darling Court was not there. I never can enjoy anything again. I never can take any more pleasure ‘till my Court comes home, and if such a thing should be that you should never come, (which may God forbid) do not think I could ever be happy again. Oh no, if you should die I could never love another. no, I should choose to die too. I would not care to live. I was thinking of you last night, thinking what I should do if I were to hear you were dead. I thought of it a long time, tried to realize the danger you were in, and that there was a possibility that I might never see you again, and/then, I think I experienced some of the feelings that I should experience if It were really so, and then I thought of death, and it was a sweet thought to me, it seemed to me it would be a pleasure to die too, to die and be with you. But Court you must not die yet. I have prayed to God to protect you, and I trust he will. I leave it in his hands. Court I do not write you this to make you feel bad but I want you to know what my feelings are and how I should feel if anything should happen to you. But I can stand it, yes, I can hope on as long as you are alive, but if you should die, then, and not ‘till then, will my heart break. But away with these gloomy feelings. Let us think of the time when you’ll come home, when we’ll meet again, and then we’ll be so happy, we’ll know how to appreciate it then won’t we? Sometimes I think ‘tis best that we should part for a while and then when we do meet we shall the better know how to prize each others society.

I have not time to write more Good bye May God bless you and bring you home in safety to Mary again. Enclosed you’ll find a lock of my hair I thought you would like to see a lock of it by this time—Mary