Columbus Democrat. [volume] (Columbus, Miss.) 18??-18??, 1838-07-07
THE WIDOW AND HER SON.
BT WASHINGTON IRVING.

0dut VI @siSlh meditation. a Sund3vs ton, ln tAe
country. Is 50 holy in It's rtpose such pensve qui-
ct regns over the face Of nature, that every restless
passion j. charmed down, aud we feel al the nauIr-
a, religion Of the soul gently spuuging up amongst
/ US.
Sweet day, SO pure, so calm, 50 bright,
The bridal Of the earth and sky
| 10 not pretend To be what is called dcyom
man, but there are feelings that visit me IN a coun-
| try church, amid the beautiful serenity of nature,
which | experience no where else aud if not
more religious, think am a better man on Sun
day, than on any other day of the whole seven.
But in this church felt myself continually throwA
back upon the world by the iriyuity and pomp ct
the poor worms around mr. The only being thai
seemed thoroughly 10 ieel the humble and PROSTATE
| plety ola true Christian, was poor, decrepid old
woman, bending under the weight Of years and in.
iirmitics. She bore the traces Of something bette
than ablect poverty The !ingerings of decent pride
were visible IN her appearance. Her dress though
humble IN the extreme, was scrupulouSly clean.
Some trivial respect too, had been awarded her, for
she did not take her seat among the village poor,
but sat alone on the steps Of the altar. She seemed
to have survived all love- all friendship, all society;
and 10 have nothing left her but the hopes ofheay-
en-. When saw her eebly rising and bending her
form in praycr-hahiualy coming her PRAYER
book which her palsied hands and failing eyes
would not permit her to read but which she evident
| y knew by heartl felt persuaded that the laIter-
| ing voice of that p02r woman rose to Heaven far
above the responses ofthe clerk the swell OF the or
gan, or the chanting of the choir
| | am fond Of lettering about country churches,
and this was so delightfully."- situated, that il frequent
| " attracted me- Il stood on knoll, round which
a small stream made beautiful bend, and then
wound its way through long reach of meadow
scenery, The church was surrounded by view trees,
which seemed almost coeval with itself. Its tall Co
THO spire shot up lightly from among them, with
rocks and crows generally wheeling about it.
was seated here one still sunny morning, watching
two laborers who were digging grave. They had
! chosen one OF the most remote neglected corners of
! the church yard where from the number OF name
| less graves around 1t would appear that the indi-
gent and lriendesS were huddcd into the earth
| was told that the new made grave was for the only
| son ola poor widow. While was meditating on
the distinctions of worldly rank, which extended
thus down IN the very dust, the toll of the bel an
nounced the approach OF the funeral. They were
the obSequies fp0very with which pride had moth
ing to do. A coffin of the paincst materials, with
out pail or covering, borne by some of the villa
gers The sexton walked before with an air Of cold
indifference. There were no mock mournerS in the
| trappings OF affected wo but there was one real
mourner who ftebly tottered after the corpse Ii
was the aged mother Of the deceased the poor old
woman whom had seen seated on the steps of the
altar. She was supported by an humble TREND who
was endeavoring To comfort her. few of the
neighboring poor hal joined the train, and some
children Of the village were running hand in hand,
shouting with minimizing mirth, and now pausinp to
gaze with childish curiosity on the grief the mour-
| ner.
AS the funeral train approached the grave, the
parSon ISSUED from the church porch arayed in the
surpice with prayer book in hand, attended by
the clerk. The service, however, was mere act Of
charity. The deceased had hcen destitute, and the
survivor pennyIess. II was shuiIled thro therefore,
in form, but codIy and unfeelingy.-The well fed
priest moved but a few steps from The church door
his voice could scarcely be heard AZ the grave and
never did hear the funeral service, that sublime ard
| touching ceremony, turned into such irgid mum
merry Of words.
! approached the grave. Tie coffin was placed
| on the ground. On it were inscribed the name and
| age Of the deceased George Somers aged 2Gyrs'
The poor mother had been assisted to knee down
at the head oft. Her wilhered hands were caspcd
as in prayer, and could perceive by feeble rock
| ing Of the body and convusiye motion Of the lips
| that she was gazing on the last relics of her SON.
with the warnings ola mothers heart
Preparations were made 10 deposit the coffin in
! the earth. There was that busting STIR which
breaks so harshly on the feelings Of grief and afiec.
ton; directions were given in the cold tones Of bu-
siness; the striking ofspades INTO sand and gravel,
which, at the grave Of those we love- is Of all sounds
the most writing. The hustle around seemed To
awaken the mother from wretched reverie. She
raised her glazed eyes, and looked about with faint
| widness As the men approached wit cords to
lower the coffin into the grave, she wrung her
hands and broke into an agony Of grief The poor
woman who attended her took her by tue arm, en-
deayoring to raise her from the earth and 10 whis-
| per something like cOnSoa ton Nav now-nav
now--don't take it so sorely to heart She could
only shake her head and wiring her hands, as one
not 10 be comlo; ted
As they lowered the body into the earth, the crea-
slhg Of the cords seemed to agonlze her blt when
On some accidental obstruction, there was lOstng
of the coffin, the tenderness Of the mother burst
| forth, as if any harm could come 10 him who was
far beyond the reach Of worldly suffering
could SEE no morc--fny heart swelled in my
throat-my eyes filed with tears--l felt as if was
acting barbarous part in standing by and gazing
| idly on this scene of maternal anguish. wandered
10 another part of the church yard, where remained
until the funeral train had dispersed.
When ! saw the mother slowly and painfully
quitting the grave, leaving behind her the remains
| OF all that was dear 10 her earth, and returning
to silence and restitution, my heart ached for her.
What thought l. are the dstresses of the rich, they
have friends to soohe-pleaslres TO beguile-a world
TO divert and dissipaie their greis. What are the
sorrows Of the young' Their growing minds soon
close above the wound-their elastic spirits soon
rise above the prcssure-ther green and ductie aI-
| iections soon twine around new objects But the
! sorrows of the poor, who have no outward applsn-
ces TO soOthe--the sorrows Of the aged with whom
life at best is but wintry day, and who can look for
no after growth Of oy--ihe sorrows ola widow,
aged, solitary destitute, mourning over an only son
the last solace Of her years; these are indeed
rows which make us feel the impotency Of consoa-
/ ton.
/ 1t was sometime helore left the church yard.
On my way homeward met with the woman who
had acted as comforter she was just returning from
accompanying the mother to her lonely habltaticn,
and i drew from her some particulars connected
with the affecting scene had witnessed
The parents Of the deceased had resided in the
neighborhoOd from childhood. They had inhabited