The spirit of democracy. [volume] (Woodsfield, Ohio) 1844-1994, 1848-02-26
A Mothers Love.

10 Is tiIcIc ttuV tocS NV
edge and bow in reverence TO a moths
er's love- What is i, that causes the
eve to fill? that refuses ntte!ance TO
speech, and overwhelms with utter,
Loneliness in the midst Of life? Deny
it not, truant heart; it is the sacredness
of a mothers love-feltl throughilong
years it may be, yet always pure, ever
sacred, blessing and ref eshing! Gen,
tie mother! tenderest, truest, and the
best of friends! constant in owe, IN
weal' or woeAin deformity or bealth,i
in honor or shame, through evil on
good repon-thy affection knows no
change nor shadow OF turning! Bless
ings on tEe,! Earliest memories link
toge her and throw holiness on thy
name! Sacred to the heart is the
memory Of a mothers love!
Such were the reflections suggested
by an incident in the great drama Of
life. A poor victim Of intemperance
was staggering home ward-no, he
knew not whither-when he fell heavI-
ly 10 the earth. Stunned and bruised
by the fall, he lay for a moment insen-|
sible, but assistance soon restored him
to consciousness, and to a sense Of de.
graduation. ..,~-"ii'
81 thank you, gentlemen" said he,
falteringly, "it was a hard fall, but | am
better now. | have had many such.
1t is nothing when you get used 10 it,"
and he laughed as he prepared to start
again on his way.
"What u pity" Remarked a spectator,
"that you should thus debase your man
hood, by such selfish indulgence in
strong drink"
"You're a temperance lecturer, | sus-
pect," sneered the inebriate.
"No, friend" replied the gentleman.
81 am not a temperance lecturer-at
least not one proiessedly. But ne
glect no opportunity to speak a word
in favor of that honest cause"
"You're Il preacher then, may be-"
"No."
swell, whatever you are, | want
none of your advice"
81 merely meant it for your good"
mildly answered the gentleman. "Are
you married."
"No."
"Have you sisters and brothers"
"Yes-but they don'tknow menow."
slave you a father?"
"No-he died long SINCE"
"a mother"
There was a deep silence.
"You do not answer; have you a
mother?"
The silence that ensued was broken
by the sobs of the wretched man.
"Oh, God? oh, Cod" he exclaimed,
sshe, too, is dead! broke her heart
many years since by my misconduct!
My poor, poor mother! So good, SO
kind--so gentle and ~forgiving!" and he
smote his breast in the bitterness of his
anguish.
Unhappy man-oh, how unhappy at
moment! Through all the vicisi.
tudes of life, a mothers love had follow
ed him-entreating, urging, imploring
him to forsake evil, and cling only to
that which is right. In vain had she
.striven-he had gone on blindly, per-
verseIy, reckIessIy, till now he was
down in health, fortune and re-
putation, an outcast from society, dis
owned by his own flesh and Blood
Yet in the midst of this accumulation
Of wretchedness, there came reproach.
fully, though full of love, across the,
waste of years, a molher'svoice
sweet and sad, and the heart bowed in
grief to its mute appeal. .T uJ-.r
Honor to woman! Without her
smiles the world would loose its bright
ess-sOciety's charm would exist no
onger-Christianity would languish
Without her aid and approval. SIN
whose principles" said the dying daugh-
er Of Ethen Allen, TO her skeptical
ather, sin whose principles shall ] die
yours. or those of my Christian
nother" The stern old hero of IL
:onderoga brushed a tear from his eye
S he turned away, and with the same :
ough voice which summoned the Bril- :
ish to surrender. now tremulous with r
motion, said-"In your mothers, child !
lin your mother's!' am.. !
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