"We toil for treasure through our years of active labor, and, when acquired, are anxious to have it well secured against the time when we or our children may have need of it; and we feel entire confidence in this security. We allow the common flurries of the world to pass by without disturbing our quiet or comfort essentially. What treasure of a temporal character is comparable with a child who is everything a Christian parent could desire, and who is just coming into mature life universally respected and beloved, and who is taken before any cloud or spot has touched him, and who has left bright and clear marks upon those who have come within his sphere of influence? Such was R. The green earth of Mount Auburn covers his mortal remains; the heavens above have his immortal; he was a ripe child of God, and I therefore feel that blessed assurance of entire security which adds another charm to that blessed company to which I hope, through mercy, to be admitted in our Father's own good time. This early death of our beloved youngest comes upon us as an additional lesson, necessary, without doubt, to prepare us for our last summons; and the reasons which now seem mysterious will be fully understood, and will show us that our good required this safe keeping of this treasure, so liable to be made our idol. R. had passed the dangerous period of his college life without blemish, and was only absent from prayers three times (which were for good cause), and had a settled purpose, from the beginning of his college life, so to conduct in all respects as to give his parents no cause for anxiety; and, for the last year, I have felt perfectly easy in regard to him. We have visited his grave to-day. The teachings there are such as speak to the heart with an eloquence that language cannot. Dear S. and R.! She the only daughter, he the only son of his mother! and both placed there since you left!"
"President H., in a letter a few days before I wrote to you, had this sentiment: 'The old oak, shorn of its green branches, is more liable to decay.' Applying this to the old oak fronting the graves of those loved ones who have passed on, the outspread branches of which make the spot more lovely, I was more deeply impressed than mere words could have impressed me. A few months after the death of S., a violent storm tore off a main limb of the old oak about midway between the ground and the top, in such way as to mar its beauty, and endanger its life. The limb fell upon the graves, but avoided the injury to the monuments which might have been expected. Since then, I noticed that some of the lower limbs cast a sort of blight or mildew upon the pure white of your mother's monument, and they required dressing. I desired the 'master' to do this, and also to come and heal the wound occasioned by the loss of this main limb on that side of the tree. The trimming out was done at once; the other was left undone until the request was renewed. On my visit there last week, I discovered, for the first time, that the wound had been healed, and the body of the tree appeared smooth, and of its natural color, and its health such as to give good hope that its other branches will spread out their shade more copiously than before. What a lesson was here! The appeal was to the heart; and, in my whole life, I remember none more eloquent. To-day I have been to Mount Auburn again; and the spot seems to be none other than the gate of heaven.'"