at we should live but a two Hours' Journey apart, and
that she coulde lose a Child three Months olde _whom I had never seene_?

I ran to _Father_, and never left off praying him to let me goe to her
till he consented.

--What, and if I had begged as hard, at the firste, to goe back to Mr.
_Milton_? might he not have consented _then_?

. . . Soe _Harry_ took me; and as we drew neare _Sheepscote_, I was
avised to think how grave, how barely friendlie had beene our last
Parting; and to ponder, would _Rose_ make me welcome now? The Infant,
_Harry_ tolde me, had beene dead some Dayes; and, as we came in Sight
of the little grey old Church, we saw a Knot of People coming out of
the Churchyard, and guessed the Baby had just beene buried. Soe it
proved--Mr. _Agnew's_ House-door stood ajar; and when we tapped softlie
and _Cicely_ admitted us we could see him standing by _Rose_, who was
sitting on the Ground and crying as if she would not be comforted.
When she hearde my Voice, she started up, flung her Arms about me,
crying more bitterlie than before, and I cried too; and Mr. _Agnew_
went away with _Harry_. Then _Rose_ sayd to me, "You must not leave me
agayn." . . .

. . . In the Cool of the Evening, when _Harry_ had left us, she took me
into the Churchyarde, and scattered the little Grave with Flowers; and
then continued sitting beside it on the Grasse, quiete, but not
comfortlesse. I am avised to think she prayed. Then Mr. _Agnew_ came
forthe and sate on a flat Tombstone hard by; and without one Word of
Introduction took out his _Psalter_, and commenced reading the Psalms
for that Evening's Service; to wit, the 41st, the 42d, the 43de; in a
low solemne Voice; and methoughte I never in my Life hearde aniething
to equall it in the Way of Consolation. _Rose's_ heavie Eyes
graduallie lookt up from the Ground into her Husband's Face, and thence
up to Heaven. After this, he read, or rather repeated, the Collect at
the end of the Buriall Service, putting this Expression,--"As our Hope
is, this our deare Infant doth." Then he went on to say in a soothing
Tone, "There hath noe misfortune happened to us, but such as is common
to the Lot of alle Men. We are alle Sinners, even to the youngest,
fayrest, and seeminglie purest among us; and Death entered the World by
Sin, and, constituted as we are, we would not, even if we could,
dispense with Death. For, where doth it convey us? From this
burthensome, miserable World, into