rushed through her heart, when she saw that he was dying! It was seen in its effects. Her heart was broken.

After the death of her affianced husband, all interest in life and in living things, seemed lost to this stricken one. She withdrew to the solitude of her chamber, and saw no one but her mother, her sisters, and one female friend. In vain they tried to arouse her from the grief that had settled on her like an incubus. Hour after hour she sat with her clasped hands resting on her knees, and her eyes fixed on one spot, with a strange vacant expression, as if dead to every thing around her. The only circumstance that appeared to bring her to consciousness, was the marriage of the sister who had been her nurse and attendant since the affliction that had made such ravages on her frame. When the bride and groom elect came to bid Caroline farewell, as they were about to proceed to the church, where they were to be united, the brokenkearted girl folded her sister in her arms, and wept over her, as if the separation was more than she could bear. When her intended brotherin-law offered his hand, she said: 'No, George, I cannot take your hand-not yet-it seems so hard to take my Mary from me.' When the bridal party had gone, her friend tried to console her, but she refused to be comforted.' No!' said she, mournfully, it is always so; every thing that I love is taken from me!'

Shortly after her sister's marriage she was taken to the country, in the vain hope that the fresh air would revive her. The heat of June, in the crowded city, had been too much for her enfeebled state. All expectation of her recovery was gone, for the fatal symptoms of a confirmed and rapid consumption were upon her, and her friends knew that she must die. She alone was yet unconscious that this was to be her last summer upon earth that the grave would soon be opened to

receive its victim.

As soon as I heard that she was in the neighborhood, I visited her. We had not met since we were school-girls. Though nearly of the same age, yet the tranquil seclusion in which I had lived, had kept me in ignorance of the trials and the experience of life, while she had drank deeply of its poisoned chalice - and to her it was a fatal draught.

When I first saw her, she was leaning back in an arm chair, with her head resting against one of the porch-columns. Her cheek touched the fragrant blossoms of the white jessamine, that twined its light and feathery foliage around the fluted pillars, and mingling with the graceful woodbine, hung their united drapery above her head. I had often heard of the peculiar beauty with which consumption invests its victims; but here I saw it in all its fearful loveliness. The fragile form, almost bending beneath the summer breeze-the transparency and purity of her complexion, through which you could trace the delicate tinting of the blue veins her beautifully-formed lips, to which fever had given the coral hue of health and her eye! oh how spiritual, how unlike earth was the brightness of her dark blue eye! I looked on her high, fair forehead, over which the golden brown hair was parted in rich waves on her gentle smile, and the soft serenity of her countenance I was reminded of the artist's conception of a 'beauty not of earth.' At times, she became quite animated, and we spake together of school-days, and of several occurrences that had then

As

excited our merriment, notwithstanding the rigor of our teacher, with whom laughter was a punishable crime. I never shall forget her smile, when she could be roused to cheerfulness. There was something so sweet, so peculiar, so radiant with the loveliness of her character, that it instantly won the heart. How painful was the reflection, that one so beautiful should pass away from the fair, green earth, to the cold, dark grave from life and beauty, to corruption and decay?

She

As soon as the fatal disease became seated, the settled gloom that had hung over her since the death of her lover, suddenly passed away, and her natural buoyancy of spirits returned. Before this, she was never seen to smile; and though still subject to occasional depression, yet she was more cheerful than she had been since the fatal event. now frequently spoke of her lost William, and loved to relate the circumstances connected with their acquaintance, though previous to this, his name was never heard to pass her lips. The world seemed again to become beautiful, and the love of life once more awakened in her bosom. Oh,' said she, if I could only get strength enough to rove through these woods and meadows, I know I should be well again!' This change was one of the strongest symptoms of the melancholy disease. Illusive consumption! Thou clothest thy victims with new beauty, as thou art about to crumble them into dust and ashes, and thou inspirest them with a love of the pleasant things of earth, just as thou art ready to snatch them from our sight forever.'

The last time I saw the dying girl, was the evening of her departure for the city. The revival produced by the change of air was but temporary. She was sinking rapidly, and it was thought better to remove her, while she yet had strength to bear the fatigue. It was a beautiful summer evening, when she was carried down stairs, and laid upon the sofa. The shutters were thrown open, and the full moon poured in a radiance of light, bringing the lovely invalid into bright relief, as she lay there, like some beautiful creation of fancy. As its pale beams rested on her brow, showing the classic outline of her features, she looked like sculptured marble. There was a fearful beauty in the sight! Her eyelids were closed; their long dark lashes lay pencilled on her cheek, and so death-like was the composure of her countenance, that her mother arose, with a cold shudder, and closed the window. The sight was too like a corpse for a mother to bear. She was taken to the city on that beautiful moonlight evening, and I never saw her

more.

A few days after her return home, she was told that there was no hope of her restoration to health-that the hour of her death was at hand. She received the information with calm submission; and as the patriarch gathered up his feet into the bed,' ere he yielded up the ghost,' so did she gather up her thoughts, that she might be prepared for the great and awful change. She would lie for hours in deep meditation, and silent prayer; and when one of her gay acquaintances wished to relate to her the news of the day, she waved her hand, and gently said: My dear friend, I have now no interest in the things of earth ; my concerns are with God, and eternity.' She fell asleep in Jesus,' as tranquilly as the wearied child sinks to repose on its mother's bosom and the sweet smile of serenity that dwelt on the lips of her

1836.]

The Victims of Consumption.

beautiful corse, showed how gently death had done its work in severing her redeemed spirit from its earthly tenement.

IT was in the early part of June, 18-, that I was crossing the Chesapeake Bay, on a visit to the eastern section of Maryland. The to land and reboat, as usual, stopped at the ancient city of A ceive passengers. While I was busily watching the changes of a passvoices ing cloud, as they were reflected on the still waters, my attention was gay roused by a silvery laugh from a young creature, and by the of her companions, as they were stepping from the shore to the deck of Her mother and brother were to accompany her; but the steam-boat. there were some female friends, and several gentlemen, who had come with her, to defer their leave-takings, until the warning bell had tolled for the last time. While she was leaning against the railing, and gaily talking with the group, another and another gallant youth came on board to pay his parting compliments, some with bouquets of rare flowers, others with a volume of poems, or the last new novel. For each, she had a sweet smile, and a pleasant or witty reply. Her attentions were equally divided, and with all she seemed a favorite. I soon discovered that this lovely girl, was the wit, the beauty, and the belle of A ; and seldom was such a distinction more justly merited.

She was just of that age when the child is merging into the woman; that interesting age, when the youthful heart is as yet unsullied by the She was a bright and beauworld's teaching or the world's flatteries. tiful creature. Her dark eye sparkled with animation, and the bloom of her cheek varied with the quiet or excitement of her feelings, from the delicate tint of the maiden-blush rose, to the richest hues of the Provence. Her dimpled mouth, with its pearly teeth, seemed made for smiles, and nothing could exceed the light-heartedness, the music of her joyous laugh. It was like the wild carol of a bird, and thrilled through me, making my very heart feel glad, as if I had met with some unexpected pleasure.

Her companions bade her farewell, and our heavy boat was again The gentlemen stood on ploughing its way through the waters. shore and waved their hats until we lost sight of them. She then sat down, and opened one or two of the volumes, but soon threw them aside, Her attention was excited by some aquatic and took her brother's arm. birds, whose active pursuit of their prey seemed to her more like amusement than employment. Look, brother,' I overheard her exclaim, 'at that sea-bird; one moment it darts toward the water, then it flies far up into the blue sky, and swiftly returning again, it rests upon the bosom of I wish I could be a the waves, as if it loved the refreshing coolness. sea-bird, for a little while, at least.'

'You are to much of one already, Kate,' said her brother, 'for the peace of the finny tribe you left gasping on the shore of our own fair river.'

Brother,' said she, while the tears started in her beautiful eyes, 'you do not mean that I am a coquette, do you? Oh! if I thought that my levity had made me act like that cold, heartless thing, I would despise myself, and never be gay again.'

No, my sister,' said the brother, fondly encircling her waist, you have too much soul about you, I believe, ever to be a coquette. I did not think you would take my jesting so seriously.'

When this little cloud passed by, the same sportiveness animated her fine countenance, and gave her step and her every action a buoyancy so light and graceful, that she seemed the embodied spirit of health and cheerfulness.

The steam-boat stopped opposite the place where they were to land; a little skiff shot out from the bank toward it, and in a few minutes the fair girl, with her mother and brother, were seated within it, and were passing rapidly to the shore. The light boat rose and fell with the heaving waters, and the dipping oars moved like the wings of a flying sea-bird. As it glided onward, her brother sportively rocked it from side to side, and her light laugh came ringing over the waves, as soft as the sound of distant bells. Oh! that silvery laugh! I can remember it yet!

Ir was about the middle of May, that I paid my next annual visit to my sister. As the boat drew near A —, I thought of the beautiful girl I had seen the year before, and wondered whether she was still a reigning belle, or had settled into the happy wife-the sober married woman. My thoughts continued to dwell upon her, until we stopped at the wharf. A couch was prepared on deck, and a carriage drew up, from which a sick person was carefully lifted by a family servant, and borne on deck in his arms. A middle-aged lady followed, whose thick veil prevented a view of her features. But as soon as she threw it aside, to bathe the temples of the exhausted invalid, I saw it was the mother of that lovely girl who had been the subject of my thoughts. I looked on the emaciated face of the sufferer, and mentally exclaimed: 'Can this be the beautiful Catherine F? There is some resemblance, indeed — but no, it cannot be !

Upon my offering a fan to the lady, as she anxiously bent over the couch, she thanked ine, and recollecting when we had met before, said: This is a great change in one short year.'

her

I felt so much shocked, that I could say nothing in reply. Yes! it was a change a sad, sad change! To me it seemed but a few brief months since I had seen her entering the same boat with her buoyant step, her merry laugh, and attended by her gay companions. Where were they now? Her mother and the faithful servant were still at her side, but her brother was far away upon the broad blue sea, and her friends and admirers left her when the hour of sickness came. And she, too, was Consumption's victim! I knew it by the steady lustre of eye, the hectic flush on her hollow cheek, the sharpened outline of feature, and, above all, by the peculiar transparency of her taper fingers, as they lay in dazzling whiteness across her rich dark hair. I wondered much what could have caused this gay young creature so soon to become a prey to the insatiate spoiler. I was subsequently told, that after a summer spent in gayety, she returned home with a slight cold, contracted when out upon one of their moonlight sails, or in one of the dances on the green, damp with the evening dews. It seemed to have nearly passed away, and nothing more was thought of it. But it returned again, upon the slightest exposure; and at last it showed that

it had been secretly undermining its way, for it revealed its fatal symptoms, the bright fevered spot- the gradual wasting of flesh- and the painful sinking away into utter feebleness.

We parted when the boat reached its place of destination; and a few weeks afterward, upon taking up the village paper, I saw the following obituary notice:Died in A, Catherine F, aged seventeen; the idolized sister of an absent brother the only daughter

of a widowed mother.'

I HAVE given but two of many, very many, sketches that memory records. How numerous are the cases of this disease, that must have occurred within the remembrance of every one! Consumption, like the horrid idol of the Hindoos, rolls over our land, and annually crushes beneath its wheels more than fifty thousand victims. The number startles us, and appears incredible. But let every one look back for a few years, and see whether he will not find, in his neighborhood, among his acquaintance, and it may be even in his own family, enough to bring conviction, not only that this is true, but enough, too, to make him feel that something should be done, and that speedily, to arrest the progress of this desolating scourge.

G.