This is all wrong. You say that your husband is kind, and bearing his own sorrow for the loss of the little one silently, that he may comfort you. Should you not remember that he has been equally bereaved, and may need your sympathy? “Bear ye one another’s burdens,” and by so doing will you not find strength to rise above this affliction, so far that you can perform your duties with comfort, if not with cheerfulness? You say you have no pleasure in the little one still left you. May it not have been sent as a ministering spirit, to awaken in your heart a deeper love and gratitude for the mercies that still surround you, and bring you nearer to the Father, who often “wounds to heal, afflicts to save”? There are trials harder to bear than those which seem to have so nearly crushed you. When, instead of the prattle and frolic of babyhood, the child becomes old enough to be taught how to assist the mother in various ways,--begins to read and study, showing a mind rapidly maturing, giving promise of no common strength of character,--do you not see that it must become even more precious with each new development? Yet when incurable disease fastens upon it, and the parents see their bright and joyous child slowly but surely fading from their home, is not this a heavier calamity than when our little ones are taken from their cradles after only a few days of suffering? We have seen a mother for months hold back her tears, and minister to the wants of the sufferer; and, hardest of all, sit by the bedside and listen to the child’s anxious questionings,--soothing its fears, when knowing that it is just entering the dark valley; singing of the peace and joys that lie beyond; step by step, as death came nearer, leading this child of her love down even to the banks of the “river that flows close by the throne of God,” that when its timid feet touch the waters she may herself almost lay the child into the Saviour’s arms, who is waiting to receive and bless it. In this, cannot you imagine that there is a depth of anguish which you have not yet fathomed? As our children grow toward manhood and womanhood with promise of rich maturity, does not our love grow with their growth, and strengthen with their strength? When their education is just completed, and they are almost ready to begin life’s work, if taken from us, is not the loss greater, the desolation more appalling, than that which you have known?