“Who loved my babe so fondly?” said she, when she came from the room.  “Who has been so kind and thoughtful of me?  It has unsealed my tears; now let me weep alone.”  We left her.  She came out of that room a changed woman.  She assisted us in our preparations for the burial of the dead, spoke cheerfully to her husband, conversed freely about her children in heaven, and remarked that henceforth her life should be worthy of a Christian.  We buried the sweet babe by the side of his brother, and planted a rose-tree over his grave.  Then our thoughts turned to Ellen, whose whole manner indicated resignation and peace.

We were not surprised at the effect of grief upon Ellen, for I have told you she was not educated to bear human misery with much composure.  Yet what her parents had left undone seemed to be effected by those severe dispensations of God.  Our Father in heaven often educates us by his chastisements, giving us wisdom, patience, hope, trustfulness and resignation, according to the severity with which he afflicts us.

Ellen maintained the same cheerful manner from the time of the burial of her second babe to the birth of her third child.  Her friends hoped many blessings for Ellen in the life of this child.  It was a daughter, apparently healthy; and as its mother had endured so severe a trial we hoped the Lord would deal mercifully with her in sparing this one to her.  For one short year we had reason to hope for the life of the child.  But it was too frail a creature for this world, and, like its little brothers, died in early infancy.  And its mother—­we found her to be a practical Christian indeed.

Instead of moaning and violent grief, she held her babe as it breathed its latest breath, and was first to break the awful silence in the room that succeeded the final struggle, with these words:  “She is with her little brothers now, and I have reason to bless the Lord.”  She could say no more then; and a few large tears fell on the cheek of her babe as it still lay on her lap.  Once only did she freely yield to tears.  It was when her husband first heard of the death of his babe.  His anguish overcame her composure.  Soon recovered however, she maintained a truly Christian deportment.  The third little grave was opened in the burial lot of Mr. Moore, and the body of this babe laid by its little brothers.

A fourth babe was born in the lonely home of Ellen, and fresh hopes cherished for the long life of her child.  The burden of every prayer offered at that family altar was, “Lord, if it be thy will, suffer us to rear this tender child!”

“Yet though I pray thus,” said Ellen, “my heart is strong to meet its early death; and if it dies, I shall not mourn as for my first-born.  God has afflicted me, but I am profited thereby.”

“Very true, Ellen, but if this fourth dear babe is taken from us, we shall almost doubt the mercy of God.  How can you, in your present delicate health, endure to lay this last dear babe by the side of the departed ones, and again find your home desolate and silent?”