“But we want you to stay with us as long as you can. I had a talk about you with Mrs. William E. Dodge last week at Lake Mohonk. Her husband and you were my ideals among the veteran Christians of New York.
“May the Everlasting Arms uphold you!”
One of the grandchildren was at a distance, and did not hear of her death till the night of the funeral. A letter from him is inserted, as showing the tender communion and confidence that subsisted between the older and younger members of the family.
“I have just received the sad news of dear Grandma’s death. I cannot realize that I am not to see her face again. I have always loved her more than I can ever tell, and have learned lessons from her lips which I can never forget. And now that she is gone, I do not know what to say to you, upon whom this sorrow has fallen so heavily. The burden will be a hard one to bear; it is hard for us; it must be harder for you, who have been the fifty years’ companion of her we have lost. And yet with all the sorrow can there not be found some joy in your lonely heart to-night,—joy over fifty years of the sweetest and holiest communion of life with life,—joy over the ending of what must almost have become a weary pilgrimage for Grandma, with her feeble strength and almost never-ceasing pain,—and, most of all, joy over the knowledge of her entrance into that home for which I am sure she has long been yearning? Grandma loved her own people dearly, but she loved her God more, and I am sure if that is the case heaven is a better place for her than earth. A life of joy and peace without pain, without disappointment, without sorrow, is so much better than a weak, worn life.
“I would I could tell you all I feel, Grandfather. I know how black it all looks ahead, but I also know how well you know where to look for light. Grandma had more than completed her threescore years and ten; the full measure of life had been hers, and now that the cross is laid down, is it not