Herald of the times. [volume] (Newport, R.I.) 1830-1846, 1839-06-06
From the u. =. Gazette.
FROM Uit " - uHh'''''
A MONUMENT TO A MOTHERS
GRAVE.

Flower GATHERiSG.-"The flowers that
spring up on the sunny side OF hilIocks, be-
meath the remnants of snow banks, are very
small aud entirely scentless, and the little
beauty which is imputed to thein Is chiefly
from contrast with the desoaiion and cold
ncss in which they are found"
The death of friend who never spared
fault of my character, nor found virtue
which he did not prize, had cast gloom
over my mind, which no previous deprivation
had produced. ! remember how sceptical
and heart smitten--(no heart broken-the
broken heart always bclIevcs) ii stood at
his grave, while the clergyman touched too
little on his virtues, and spoke with n humble
confidence, that he would spring from the
tomb to an Immortality of happiness and
suggested the promises OF the scripture, and
argued with logical precision, from texts and
analogies, that my friend should rise from
the dead. Dependency is not more the child
than the parent Of unbelief- grief makes
us selfish--and the naturally timid and Der-
vous, lose that confidence in promises. lncu-
ding their own particular wish, which they
yield To them, when the benefit of others is
alone proposed. A little learning is danger
Uus in such matters; We suffered n mental
argument upon the probability which we SO
much desired, to displace the simple faith
which would have produced comparative hap
piness. Those who have con,crded with,
and at length yielded to this despondency,
alone know its painful operation.
Occupied with thoughts resulting from
such an unpleasant train of mind, followed
into small buryirg ground, in the surburbs
of the city, a small train Of persons, not more
than dozen, who had come TO bury one of
their acquaintance. The Clergyman in at
tendance, was leading q little boy by the
hand, who seemed to be the only relative of
tia deceased in the slender group. ] gath
cred with them round the grave, and when
the plain coffin was lowered down, the child
burst forth in uncomfortable grief. The lit.
tie fellow had no one left to whom he could
look for affection, or who could address him
in tones of parental kindness. The last Of
his kinsfolk was in the grave--and he was
alone.
When the clamorous grief Of the child had
q little subsidized, the clergyman addressed us
with the customary exhortation to accept the
moniton, and be prepared; and turning to the
child, he added She is not TO remain in
this grave forever: as true as the grass which
is now chilled with the frost of the season,
springs to preenness and life in few months,
go true shall your mother come up from that
grave TO another life, life Of happiness ]
hope The attendants shovelled IN the
earth upon the coffin, and som" one took lit.
tie William, the child, by the hand, and led
him forth from the lowly tenement Of his
mother.
Late in the ensuing spring, was in the
ncrhborbood Of the same buying ground,
aud seeing the gate open, walked among the
graves for some time, reading the names o'
the dead and wondering what strange dis
ease could snatch off So many younger than
nyself-when recollccting that was near
the grave Of the poor widow, buried the pre-
vious autumn. turned Ia sec what had been
done to preserve the memory of one so Ut
tcrly destitute Of earthly friends. To my
surprise, I found The most desirable OF all
memcntos for mothers scpulcbrc-litile
William was sitting near the head Of the now
runken grave, looking intcbtly upon some
green shoo,s ,ha, had come forth with the
warmth of spring. from the soil that covered
bis mothers crifin.
William started at my approach. aud would
have left the place II was lnng beforo I
could induce him 20 iarry snd indeed did
not win his confidence, until told him was
present when they buried his mother, and
had marked his tears nj the time.
Then you heard the minister say, that my
m'iher would come up out of this grave said
lnilc William.
4 did,