Edgefield advertiser. [volume] (Edgefield, S.C.) 1836-current, 1856-02-13
&eautiful gtorp.
GIT rs NOT HARD To DIE,n

looking with confidence into the kind face
that had bent over her so often, tell me if
there is any certainty that | shall ever re.
cover! think not; so you see am pre-
pared for i'll tidings, and | am continually
tormenting myself with the question. Will
you not he candid with me, dear DR.. Ellis! q
"While there is life'-commenced the
doctor, but the frail young creature interrup.
ted him, saying:
"No, no, doctor, that won't do; | must
have your professional opinion; and when
say that my souls happiness, for the remnant
of this life, will be affected by your decision,
surely you will grant me the request"
But could you bear"
"Anything doctor, but this suspense.-l
am willing to be told the exact state OF
my case; for you see, some days | feel SO
really well, that my hope is unduly excited I;
and again, when the sleepless hours and ter
rible pains come, death takes an awful shape,
and frightens me out Of repose. But if |
was cerlain-she spoke with sole,nnity-"l
would teach my mind to dwell upon it in
such a way that my foolish fears would leave
me-"
"My sweet GIRL" said the doctor, taking
her wasted hand, al will then grant this
request. You cannot certainly recover,
unless some extraordinary providence occurs.
Your life may be protracted for some months
yet, but not over a year at farthest, SO it
seems to me"
The pale cheek grew shade paler, but
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 that will not abuse
them."
The beautiful consumptive sat alone in
her large easy chair some moments after the
doctor had gone. She gazed about her on
luxuries which wealth unbounded had pro.
cured for her pleasure, and the large, untrou.
bled eyes grew dim.
"Then | must die!" she said to herself,
"and oh, this fear, not of an hereafter, but
OF that dread passing through the valley,
which shadows my hours Of suferingl-
Even my religion does not dissipate that
shrinking, shuddering fear. The impressions
of my childhood will not away, but return
with new force" And as she thus half
whispered to herself, a lovely matron enter.
ed, and hurryiug to her side, kissed the fair
brow.
"You are better to-day, child" she said
in tones Of forced calmness; "nay, don't
shake your head SO mournfully; indeed, il
you knew how much improved you appear,
and she drew a low seat towards the young
girl and sat gazing in her eyes with the holy
love of maternity.
Mother" said the consumptive, as she
took the matron's hand in her own, there
is something want you to do for me-"
"What is it darling? You know would
lay down my life for you"
For an instant the pale lips quivered; but
commanding herself, the young girl said
gently:
81 want you to talk to me of death-o
my own death, which is certain soon."
My Amyp' was all the mother could
articulate; her voice seemed frozen by hor.
ror.
"Yes, mother; for, listen a moment, il
will make your poor sick child more willing
to leave earth, and find heaven. If you will
talk daily and cheerfully of passing away
if you will surround the thought with cheer.
fulness, and make the last struggle seem
pleasant to me, this strange horror with
which regard it would fade away, and my
mind be drawn more wholly to the better
land. 1t may be sacrifice to you, my
mother, but shall learn to look forward to
my deatb-bed with calmness, which strive
in vain to do now. viii you try to do this,
mothers Will you talk Of it oftens Will
you repeat the sweet words that dying saints
have spokens Will you speak of the smiles
that repose upon their faces, until I can
think cheerfully, and talk without reserve OF
that change, even as would lie down, and
put my garment by, ready to attire myself
when | should awake in the fair morning
Will you tell those who call to see me never
to shrink from speaking to me of death
Will you do this my mother 2"
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 it 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