The southern enterprise. [volume] (Greenville, S.C.) 1854-1870, 1857-01-29
HIsrrllanrmuz Kraainq.
Death Bed of Cromwell.

The following, from Headlcy's Work. is
marked with the usual briliancy OF the ne.
culIar writer. Cromwell appears no longer
As the hrpocrite, but rather as the sincere
Covpnanter, when called to his lust sum.
mons.
AT length the last night drew on that was
to usher III his fortunate day. The 81 of
September, and anniversary of Dunbar and
of Marston, came amid wind and storm. In
this solemn hour for England, strong hearts
were ever beseeching heaven to hear the
Protector; | ut the King of Kings had is.
sued his decree; and the spirit that had en-
dnred and toiled SO long, was already gath.
erlng his pinions for eternity. "It Is n fear
ful thing to fall into the hands of the living
God," broke then from his lips in solemn
faith, on the covenant of Grace. His breath
came difficult and thick; but amid the
pause of the storm, he was heard murmur.
ing: Truly God is good-indccd he is
he will not here his tongue failed him :
"hut," says an eye witness. - apprehend it
was, lie will not leave me-" Again and
again, there escaped from the ever Inovinc
lips, the half ariiculate words: "God is
good-God is good" Once, with sudden
energy, lla exclaimed. i wopII be willing
to live to be further serviooable to God and
his people; but my work is done. Yet God
will DC with his people" All night long
he mnrmured thus to himself Of God show
ing how perfect was his trust, how strong
his filth. Once, as some drink was otfared
him, he said, " 1t IS not my design 70 drink
or sleep, but it is my design to make what
haste can to he gone"
while this scene was passing in that sol,
emn chamber. all was wild and terrible
without. Nature seemed TO sympathise
with the dying patriot and hero. The wind
howled and roaled around the place, houses
were unroofod, ehinneys blown up, and
the trees that had stood for half a cer,tui Y
In the parks, were uptorn and strewn over
the earth. The sea, too, was vexed. the
waves smote in ungovernable fury the shores
OF England and vessels lay stranded along
the coasts OF the Mediterranean. 1t was a
night when there are,
"As they saw,
Lamentings heard in the mir B.; strange screams OF
. death,
And prophesying, with accents terrible,
or dire connection, and confused events
Now hatchcd to tie woeful time.
some say the earth,
Was feyerous shook
But all was calm and serene around the
dying bed of Cromwell On that more than
kingly brow, peace, like white winged
dove safe and that voice which had turned
the tide of so many battles now Ipurmured
only prayers. Bonaparte, dying in the
midst OF just such storm, shouted, "Tete
d'Armee," as his gazing eye fell once more
on the beads of his mighty columns disap.
pearing in the smoke Of battle; but Crorn
well took nobler departure. The storm
and uproar without brought no din Of arms
to his dying ear--not in the difiripm Of bat.
tie his soul burst away, but with his eyes
fixed steaJfastly on the eternal kingdom, ("
ard llis strong heart sweo,ly stayed on the
promise Of faithful God. he moved from
the shore Of time, and sank from sight for.
ever.
He died at three o'clock, on the yory day
which eight years before saw his sword
flashing over the tumultuous field Of Duu.
bar-the same which, seven years previous,