"My little son George"

Friday, December 4 [1807]. We now take great numbers of excellent trout from under the ice, with hooks and lines. Early this morning, the woman whom I have taken to reside with me, became the mother of a boy, whom I name George Harmon.

Sunday, February 25, 1810. On the evening of the 15th inst. my woman was delivered of two living boys. They appear, however, to have been prematurely born; and, from the first, little hope was entertained that they would long survive. One of them died on the morning of the 22d, and the other the last night; and today, they were both buried in the same coffin. He who gave them life, has taken it away. He had an undoubted right so to do; and though his ways are to us, inscrutable, he has the best reasons for whatever he does. It becomes us, therefore, humbly to acquiesce in this afflictive dispensation.

Sunday, 21. A few days since, I sent the greater part of my people to McLeod's Lake, to prepare for the voyage from that place to the Rainy Lake. Tomorrow, I shall leave this place myself, in company with Mr. Quesnel and others, for McLeod's Lake. I shall take with me my little son George, who was three years old last December, for the purpose of sending him to my friends in the United States, in order that he may receive an English education. Mr. J. M. Quesnel will have the care of him, until he shall arrive at Montreal.

Tuesday, December 14. On the 1st inst. I set out for McLeod's Lake; and I there received several letters from my brothers below, which announce the truly afflicting intelligence, that my beloved son George is no longer to be numbered among the living! He was in good health on the second of March last, and a corpse on the eighteenth of the same month.—For some time, I could scarcely credit this intelligence; though I had no reason to doubt its truth. This dispensation of divine providence is so unexpected, and so afflictive, that at first, I could scarcely bear up under it, with a becoming christian resignation. My tenderest affection was placed upon this darling boy; and I fondly hoped, that he would be the solace of my declining years. But how delusive was this expectation! How frail and perishing are all earthly objects and enjoyments. A few days since, in my imagination, I was often wandering with delight, to the remote land of my kindred, and parental love centered in this promising son, for whom, principally, I wished to live, and for whom I would have been willing to die. Perhaps this child occupied a place in my heart, which my God and Saviour only may of right occupy. I hope that this affliction may be the means of disengaging my affections from an inordinate attachment to earthly objects; and that it may induce me to fix my confidence and hope on things, which will never disappoint my expectation. The Judge of all the earth has done right; and it becomes me to be still and know, that he is God. I, too, must soon die; and this dispensation is, perhaps, a seasonable warning to me, to be prepared to meet my own dissolution. I desire that the Holy Spirit may sanctify this affliction to me, and make it subservient to this important end. 

On my return from McLeod's Lake, I was accompanied by Mr. McDougall and family, who came to mourn with me, and the mother of my departed son, the loss of this dear object of our mutual affection.—Her distress, on receiving this intelligence, was greater, if possible, than my own. I endeavoured, by some introductory remarks, on the uncertainty of earthly things, to prepare her mind for the disclosure, which I was about to make. Her fears were alarmed, by these remarks; and, probably, she discovered in my countenance, something to confirm them. When I informed her that our beloved son George was dead, she looked at me, with a wild stare of agony, and immediately threw herself upon the bed, where she continued, in a state of delirium, during the succeeding night.