"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