Ellsworth American. [volume] (Ellsworth, Me.) 1855-current, 1862-08-29
BeyOnd the Mountain.

The little child was dying. His weary
limbs were racked with pain no more
The flush was fading from his thin cheeks
and the fever that for many days had
been drying up his blood, was now cool
Ing rapidly under the touch Of the icy
hand that was upon him.
There were sounds Of bitter but sup
pressed grief in that dim chamber, for
the dying little one was dear to many
hearts. They knew that he was depart
ing and the thought was hard to bear ;
but they tried to command their feelings,
that they might not disturb the last mo-
ments of their darling.
The father and mother and the kind
physician, stood beside dear Edly's bed,
and watched his heavy breathing. lie
had been silent for some time, aud APP
peared to sleep. They thought it might
be thus that he would pass away, but sud-
denly his mild blue eyes opened wide and
clear and beautiful smile broke over
his features. He looked upward and for
ward at first. and then turning his eyes
upon his mothers face, said, in sweet
voice
" Mother, what is the name of that
beautiful country that | see away beyond
the mountans-the high mountains ?"
:" can see nothing my child" said the
mother "therc are no mountains i'll sight
Of our home"
" Look there, dear mother said the
child, pointing upward, yonder are the
mountains Can you not see them now y
he asked, in tones Of the greatest aston
ishmcnt as his mother shook her head
:" They are near me now-so large and
high, and behind them the country looks
50 beautiful, aud the people are so happy
there are no sick children there. Papa,
can you not see behind the mountains =
Tell me the name Of that land -
The parents glanced at each other, and
with united voice, replied
The land you see is heaven, is it not
my child -
:, Yes, it is heaven. | Thought that
must be its namc Oh, let me go-but
aow shall cross those mountains Fa-
ther, will YOU not carry me, for they call
me from the other side, aud | mUS 20.
There was not a dry eye in that cham
her, anl upon every heart tell Il solemn
awe. as if the curtain which concealed its
mysteries was about to be withdrawn
" Nv son, said the father, " will YOU
STAY with Us Il little while longer You
shall cross the mountain soon, but III
stronger arms than mine. Wait-stay
With Your mother Il little longer; see how
She wccps at the thought Of losing you -
. Oh, mother! oh, father tlo not cry,
but come with me- and cross the noun
tailIS-oh, come :" and thus he entreated,
with Il strength ami carnestncss which as
tonished all.
The chamber was filed with wondering
and awe-striekeu friends. At length he
turned t. his nothes, with face beam
ne with rapturouS delight, and stretch
in. out his little arms to her for one last
embrace, he cried
Goodbye, mother, am going; but
don't you be airaid-tbe StroR9 arm has
coa3c Ia caYrg me otcr tte moHHiaja'"
These were his parting words upon
his mothers breast he brcathcd his last,
and they laid the little fair boy down
again upon the pillow, and closed the lids
over the beautiful blue eyes, over which
the mists of death had gathered heavily,
and bowing by the bedside, prayed with
submissive though abicoding hearts, and
said The Lord gave, aud the Lord
hath taken away. Blessed be the name
of thc Lord -