ltogether in earnest."

"The mind of the girl is unbalanced."

"No, Mrs. Ellis; never was it more evenly poised. Come with me: it
will do you good."

"Don't urge me, Mrs. Bell. If I go, it will make me sad for a week.
Is the sick girl in want any comfort?--I will freely minister
thereto. But I do not wish to look upon death."

"In this aspect it is beautiful to look upon. Go with me, then. The
experience will be something accompany you through life. The image
of frightful monster is in your mind; you may now have it displaced
by the form of an angel."

"How strangely you talk, Mrs. Bell! How can death be an angel? Is
any thing more terrible than death?"

"The phantom called death, which a diseased imagination conjures up,
may be terrible to look upon; but death itself is a kind messenger,
whose it is to summon us from this world of shadows and changes, to
a world of eternal light and unfading beauty. But come, Mrs. Ellis;
I must urge you to go with me. Do not fear a shock to your feelings,
for none will be experienced."

So earnest were Mrs. Bell's persuasions, that her friend at last
consented to go with her. At no great distance from the elegant
residence of Mrs. Ellis, in an obscure neighbourhood, was a small
house, humble in exterior, and modestly, yet neatly attired within.
At the door of this house the ladies paused, and were admitted by a
woman somewhat advanced in years, on whose mild face sorrow and holy
resignation were beautifully blended.

"How is your daughter?" inquired Mrs. Bell, as soon as they were
seated in the small, neat parlour.

"Not so strong as when you were here yesterday," was answered, with
a faint smile. "She is sinking hourly."

"But continues in the same tranquil, heavenly state?"

"Oh yes." There was a sweet, yet touching earnestness in the
mother's voice. "Dear child! Her life has been pure and unselfish;
and now, when her change is about to come, all is peace, and hope,
and patient waiting for the time when she will be clothed upon with
immortality."

"Is she strong enough to see any one?" asked Mrs. Bell.

"The presence of others in no way disturbs her. Will you walk up
into her chamber, friends?"

The two ladies ascended the narrow stairs, and Mrs. Ellis found
herself, for the first time in many years, in the presence of one
about to die. A slender girl, with large, mild eyes, and face almost
as white as the pillow it pressed, was before her. The unmistakable
signs