At his age efficient help was beyond us, and in his
case the problem presented itself in its simple nakedness. What
comfort is there discoverable for the wretched which is not based
upon illusion? We could not tell him that all he endured was right
and proper. But even to him we were able to offer something. We did
all we could to soothe him. On the Sunday, at least, he was able to
find some relief from his labours, and he entered into a different
region. He came to see us in the afternoon and evening occasionally,
and brought his boy. Father and son were pulled up out of the vault,
brought into the daylight, and led into an open expanse. We tried
above everything to interest them, even in the smallest degree, in
what is universal and impersonal, feeling that in that direction lies
healing. We explained to the child as well as we could some morsels
of science, and in explaining to him we explained to the father as
well. When the anguish begotten by some outbreak on the part of the
wife more violent than usual became almost too much to bear, we did
our best to counsel, and as a last consolation we could point to
Death, divine Death, and repose. It was but for a few more years at
the utmost, and then must come a rest which no sorrow could invade.
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