tenderness.

Three weeks were spent at one of the Virginia springs, but little
apparent benefit was the result. The young mother grieved for the
loss of her babe so deeply and constantly, often giving way to
tears, that the renovating effects of changed air and medicinal
waters were counteracted, and she returned home, drooping in body
and depressed in spirits. Her infant seemed but half restored to
her, as she clasped it to a bosom in which the current of its young
life had been dried up. Sad, sad indeed was her realization of the
immutable truth, that the way of transgressors is hard!

Two years more of a painful and anxious existence were eked out, and
Amanda again became a mother.

From this additional shock she partially recovered; but it soon
became evident to all, that her shattered and enfeebled constitution
was rapidly giving way. Her last babe was but four months old, when
the pale messenger passed by, and gave his fearful summons.

It was toward the close of one of those calm days in September, when
nature seems pausing to note the first few traces of decay which
autumn has thrown upon garden, field, and forest, that Mrs.
Beaufort, and the husband of her daughter, with a few friends, were
gathered in the chamber of their beloved one, to see her die. How
sad, how very sad is the death-bed of the young, sinking beneath
premature decay! In the passing away of one who has met the storms
of life, and battled with them through vigorous maturity, and sinks
at last in the course of nature, there is little to pain the
feelings. But when the young and beautiful die, with all their