276 LIFE OF BENJAMIN SILLIMAN. 



This lovely and promising child gave us only delight, 

 until occasional ill turns of fever and cough, in the autumn 

 of 1818, began to excite alarm. All his unfavorable symp- 

 toms were aggravated in the winter, and my own solicitude 

 and watchfulness at night, after busy and laborious days at 

 College, were increased by the sufferings of his mother 

 with acute rheumatism. His nights were much broken by 

 his cough and fever, but his spirits were cheered by the 

 hymns which I often sung to him during the watches of the 

 night. Spring brought some recreation to the dear child 

 by riding ; but it was only too obvious that his progress 

 was downward toward an early grave. 



The little sufferer was removed by his father to 

 Hartford, in the hope that good would result from 

 the journey and the change of place. 



I remained in Hartford with my precious little patient 

 as long as there appeared the slightest prospect of allevia- 

 tion. At last, with a bed in the coach as before, we pro- 

 ceeded slowly homeward, and one week of respite was 

 afforded us before death came to his relief. We had a 

 few short rides, and I had arranged a swing for his amuse- 

 ment ; but all in vain. The evening before his death, his 

 little brother, Benjamin, came into the room, and, although 

 Trumbull was panting with cough and fever, on seeing his 

 little friend waddling into the room, he smiled, and uttered 

 his favorite expression : " O funny little Bunny ! " On 

 Sabbath morning, June 27, 1 was alone with him when he 

 gently expired, and he put up his cold lips to kiss me a 

 few minutes before he ceased breathing. His mother was 

 brought down in a double chair, and looked upon his cold 

 remains, still beautiful in death, as he lay in his coffin ; 

 and she could only follow with her tearful eyes the funeral 

 procession as it moved from the house. We were sorely 

 bereaved ; but we submitted without repining, feeling that 



