During the autumn she suffered much again from feeble health and incessant loss of sleep.  “I have often thought,” she wrote to a friend, “that while so stupefied by sickness I should not be glad to see my own mother if I had to speak to her.”  But neither sick days nor sleepless nights could quench the Brightness of her spirit or wholly spoil her enjoyment of life.  A little diary which she kept contains many gleams of sunshine, recording pleasant visits from old friends, happy hours and walks with the children, excursions to Newark, and how “amazingly” she “enjoyed the boys” (her brothers) on their return from the pursuit of golden dreams in California.  In the month of November the diary shows that her watchful eye observed in Eddy signs of disease, which filled her with anxiety.  Before the close of the year her worst fears began to be realised.  She wrote, Dec. 31:  “I am under a constant pressure of anxiety about Eddy.  How little we know what the New Year will bring forth.”  Early in January, 1852, his symptoms assumed a fatal type, and on the 16th of the same month the beautiful boy was released from his sufferings, and found rest in the kingdom of heaven, that sweet home of the little children.  A few extracts from Eddy’s journal will tell the story of his last days: 

On the 19th of December the Rev. Mr. Poor was here.  On hearing of it, Eddy said he wanted to see him.  As he took now so little interest in anything that would cost him an effort, I was surprised, but told Annie to lead him down to the parlor; on reaching it they found Mr. Poor not there, and they then went up to the study.  I heard their father’s joyous greeting as he opened his door for them, and how he welcomed Eddy, in particular, with a perfect shower of kisses and caresses.  This was the last time the dear child’s own feet ever took him there; but his father afterwards frequently carried him up in his arms and amused him with pictures, especially with what Eddy called the “bear books.” [2] One morning Ellen told him she was going to make a little pie for his dinner, but on his next appearance in the kitchen told him she had let it burn all up in the oven, and that she felt dreadfully about it.  “Never mind, Ellie,” said he, “mamma does not like to have me eat pie; but when I get well I shall have as many as I want.”

On the 24th of December Mr. Stearns and Anna were here.  I was out with the latter most of the day; on my return Eddy came to me with a little flag which his uncle had given him, and after they had left us he ran up and down with it, and as my eye followed him, I thought he looked happier and brighter and more like himself than I had seen him for a long time.  He kept saying, “Mr. Stearns gave me this flag!” and then would correct himself and say, “I mean my Uncle Stearns.”  On this night he hung up his bag for his presents, and after going to bed, surveyed it with a chuckle of pleasure peculiar to him, and finally fell asleep in this happy mood.