But your sorrow, though yet unsanctified, must be, to us, held sacred from severe judgment. Nature will rule for a time, and may compel utterance for which you can hardly be held responsible. We only fear that your grief may become morbid and your heart refuse to see the silver lining which may be discerned in every cloud. Why these afflictions have been sent we cannot tell. Our Father sees when our hearts have turned from their allegiance, and knows best what sharp lessons will be necessary to bring us back to him. He may see that your love has blinded you to the solemn duties that rest upon you, and to save the children from the effects of injudicious indulgence, may have taken them to himself, and by their loss design to draw you nearer. Some lines, sent us by Mrs. Crann, the author of “Little Foxes,” will show you more clearly what we would convey than any words of ours:-- “We sat within a lighted room, My baby boy and I; But empty were my loving arms, Where he was wont to lie And look up fondly in my face, For pretty toys were near; And, though I called him lovingly, The darling would not hear. “I yearned to clasp him to my heart, But wooed him all in vain; To leave his play and come to me Would give him too much pain. I took the candle in my hand, And, with a breath of air, Extinguished its soft, cheerful light, And made all darkness there. “And soon I heard a sweet-toned voice, To which I love to hark, Cry, ‘Mother, take me in your arms! I’m frightened in the dark!’ And then I caught the sweet boy up, And felt him clasp me tight, And knew that I was needed then, Because there was no light. “And as my darling grew in years, The brightness of my joy Made me adore our Father less Than I adored my boy. He called me in a tender tone,-- His voice is always mild,-- But I refused to go to Him, And played on with my child. “And then He blew my candle out By stopping Harry’s breath; And in the anguish of that grief, The darkness of that death, I cried out in a trembling voice, And with an aching brow, ‘I’m coming to thee, O my God! For my heart needs thee now.’” LXXXVII. UNTIL DEATH DO US PART.