The southern enterprise. [volume] (Greenville, S.C.) 1854-1870, 1856-03-20

4 -
the smile faded not on the gentle lips.
Thank you DOCTOR was her reply, thank
you for your trust and confidence in me-
You shall see will not abuse them
| The beautiful consumptive sat alone i,
her large easy chair some moments after tn,
doctor was gone. She gazed about her on
luxuries which wealth unbounded had pro-
cured for her pleasure, and the large un.
troubled eye grew dim.
Then l must die said she TO herself
and oh, this fear, not of an hereafter. but ot
that dread passing through the valley which
shadows my hours Of suffering Even INV
| religion does not dissipate that sbrink,pS
shnddering fear. The impressions of my
childhood will not go away, but return with
new force. And as she thus half whispered
to herself, a lonely matron entered, but hur-
rying to her side, kissed her fair brow.
You are better to-day, child she said in
tones of forced calmness may, don't shake
your head so mournfuIly indeed, if you
knew how much improved you appear and
she drew low seat towards the Young gir!
and sat gazing in her ewes with the holy
love OF maternity.
'Mother,' said the consumptiye, as she
took the matron's hand IN her own, there fs
something want you to do for me-
What is it darling? You know I would
lay down my life for you'
For an instant the pale lipsquivered but
commanding herself, the young girl replied
gently:
Il want you to talk TO me Of death-of
nay own death, which is certain soon.'
My Amy j was all the neither could ar
ticulate; her voice seemed frozen by horror.
\ es, mother; for listen moment, it will
make your poor sick child more willing to
leave earth and find heaven. If YOU will
talk daily and cheerfully Of my passing
away it you will surround the thought with
cheerfuhess, and make the struggle seem
pleasant to me, this strange horror with
which lregard it would fade away and my
mind be drawn wholly to the better land
it may oe sacrifice TO you, mother, but,
shall learn to look forward to my death-be
with calmness, which now strive in vain to
do. Will YOU try to do this, mother p
VIII you talk of it often? Will You repeat
the sweet words that dying saints have spo-
kens Will you speak of the smiles that re.
pose upon thei. faces, until / can think cheer
FULLY, and talk without reserve of that change
even as would lie down, and put my gar
ments by, ready to attire myself when /
should awake in the fair nj ,rning9 Will
you tell those who call to see me never to
shrink f-om speaking to me of death Will
you do this, moihorP
The matron promised, and retired to her
chamber, to shed the tears of anguish born
OF this request. She, too, had long felt that
her child must die, but had put afar off the
evil day And in the strength of God she
performed her duty.
Seven months had passed, and still gentle
Amy lived. The fatal crimson burnt its
death fire into her cheek, and her eyes
cleaned with the fitful flash of disease but
about her sweet lips hoyered constant
smile; she had conquered her fear of the
kirg of terrors, and dwvlt upon departure
with almost exulting JOY. Il knew through
Christ was prepared to CO. she said SO her
pastor; Il knew that there were glories in
the bright world above, that the imagina-
tion cannot conceive Of; yet have shuddcr-
ed from my infancy at death. The thought
Of dissolution:with it, chill, and quivering
breath, made rue cold at my heart, and /
strive to forget it but cannot. Yet, since
you, since my mother, since all who know
me,haye made it familiar household word
clothed it with beautiful thoughts; and sur
rounded it with heavenly images, it has be-
come less and less terrible, till now can
hold my hand to him who unlocks the spir-
it, and say, "Death, where is thy sting r'
AS she spoke thus, ray from the setting
sun imaged crown Of glory upon her fair
brow. Her mother and friends at that mo-
ment entered.
'Hush,' said the pastor, with uplifted
hands, and they STOOD transhxed. With
that last holy smile he had marked an in
stantaneous change; aud as he bent forward,
through the lips so beautifully wreathed,
there came no breath.
well might she exelaim, "Death, where
is thy sting n said the pastor, turning with
fearful eyes ''never saw I the king Of ter
rors in so lovely a garb. How sweet she
sleeps u
Aye sweetly sill in graveyard upon
the hill side; and on the white shaft tina.
bears her name, some loving hand has CHS
elled,
at Is not hard to die"