Thus was this affliction, though “grievous,” beginning to work out in her heart its “peaceable fruit of righteousness,” by deepening her humility, quickening her zeal, and leading her to a more thorough consecration of herself to the work she had undertaken.

FOOTNOTES: 

[Footnote 10:  Romans ix. 3.]

CHAPTER VIII.

DEATH OF THEIR FIRST-BORN.—­LETTERS FROM MRS. B.

In the spring of 1829 Mr. Boardman and his family made a short sea-voyage for the benefit of their health, Mrs. Boardman having experienced another attack of illness, and their little George being frail and puny.  Indeed none of the family seemed to have been healthy but the “plump, rosy-cheeked” first-born, the darling Sarah, her mother’s joy and pride, and—­as her Heavenly Father saw—­her idol too!  Terrible was the stroke that shattered that lovely idol; but it came—­so faith assured her—­from a father’s hand.  Sometime afterward she writes, “My ever dear Sister, I think I have not written you since the death of our beloved Sarah, which is nearly eight months ago.  I have never delayed writing to you so long before.  For some time after her death, little George was apparently near the grave, and I was confined to my bed for a number of weeks.  As soon as my health was a little improved, the rebellion at Tavoy took place, which threw us all into confusion, and this lasted until I was taken ill again about three months since.  From this illness I am but just recovering.  So you see, my beloved sister, my outward circumstances have been sufficient to prevent my writing.  Nor is this all—­for some time after little Sarah’s departure, I was too much distressed to write; I felt assured that God had taken her away from us in love, and was also assured, that she is a happy angel in heaven; but oh the thought that we should see her no more on earth, filled me with indescribable sorrow.  By degrees my mind became calmer; not that I forgot her, but I feel, my dear Harriet, that the dearest and sweetest pleasures of this life are empty and altogether unsatisfying.  I do not look for comfort from these sources as I formerly did.  We have a fine, healthy boy, but I do not allow myself to idolize him as I did his dear departed sister.  In her dissolution, we saw such a wreck of what was most lovely and beautiful, that it seems as if we should be kept in future from ‘worshipping the creature.’”

Particulars respecting the child’s illness and death are given in another letter of nearly the same date.  “Our little Sarah left us July 8th of last year—­aged 2 years and 8 months....  She was a singularly lovely child.  Her bright blue eyes, yellow hair, and rosy cheeks, formed a striking contrast to the dark little faces around her....  From the time she began to notice anything, we were the objects of her fondest love.  If she thought