distress usually does. It was heartrending to hear him. One day, they
allowed him to enter the room, hoping it might quiet him; he jumped upon
the bed instantly, and disturbed the suffering child so much that he was
never permitted to go in again. Poor Arthur! he no longer had a smile or
caress even for Rover, the companion of his lonely hours, the sharer of
his exile! He did not even notice him, except by raising his hand to
keep him off.

After three weeks of severe suffering, a change came over the beloved
child. The physician thought it barely possible that such a crisis might
terminate favorably, and had prescribed powerful stimulants, but it was
soon evident that he was rapidly sinking in spite of them. He suffered
no longer, but the shadows of the grave were gathering upon his face,
and it was not probable he would survive till morning. But Mrs. Hamilton
did not wish any one to sit up by his bedside except herself. "They were
wearied," she said, "by watching; she should not sleep if others
watched, and if any thing was needed, she would call them." So she
passed the night alone with her sweet boy. In after years, I have often
heard her speak of it. It was one of those glorious moonlight October
nights. The loveliest of landscapes lay before her eye as she stood by
the window, and gazed out upon the scene. Green hills, with intersecting
valleys, forest trees lifting their tops toward the sky, wide-spreading
pasture lands, and, threading its way among them, a little
mountain-stream, bright and pure as innocence itself; all these were
visible, and over all, lay that holy moonlight bathing each object in
its spiritual radiance. Who would imagine, to look on the earth on such
a night, that it could be filled with sin and suffering, that those
glorious skies bent over breaking hearts, and opening graves? The scene
was full of calming influences, and the heart of the mother as she
gazed, was soothed and elevated. She felt the presence of God who had