Sentinel of the valley. [volume] (Woodstock, Va) 1841-1848, 1848-04-20
/ NUMBER 80.
FEMALE INFLUENCE,
BY g. W. DEWEY.

The cradle and the couch the teiat
pie and The tomb; give alike evidence
oi female influence. 49,.
! la the remembrance Of our earliest
pleasures, as we look back through the
dim vista of the past, nowhere does the
InlnG's mirror so wildly restore the pic.
tured panorama tor our view, as that
Wherein are etched the scenes ofchild.
! hood. The history of our infancy is
filed with the ;enderest tales and most
| affecting incidenis-bu it comes to us
only In The to'm of family legend,
, il>phed IN the nursery, the truth and
! accuracy of which we can only Judge
of, By the fidelity with which the like
scenes seem daily enacted before u.s.
But even there, while yet The unAedg.
ed pinlons oflhought are unable to reaa
son upon the lessons learned within a
mothers arms-even there the heart
receives its most indelIible impressions,
which, although they live not in the
memory, mark our marbles to eternity
with indices ever pointing toward
Heayen--tho' lie finger of The hand
may, sometimes, indicate the opposite
direction from that we have chosen.
But childhood budding, rosy child
hood there the history is all DIR own,
and heart learned. Ills there that the
affections wrealhed around The deities
of Home, cling like the tendrllls Of
some clambering vine, and are often
found claSped SO tightly that The leaves
borne by the same branches which gave
them birth are faded or lost in ashes,
white they remain--and so truly curea
and twisted, to their hold, that to loose
them but destroys them forever. Ard
who is the most sacred ofthose house,
hold deitiess The mother! She it is,
whose lessons Of love, whose looks Of
kindness, whose sentiments Of honor.
whose feelings of benevoence, are
transferred warm from the mind to the
mould wbereon they leave their ever-
lasting impress. Then look ye, moths
ers, to your children. For the clear
lake that doth image in its bosom the
pale moon, also doth image the spots
upon that moons disc, and thus thy
chlldren's stream of life, so pure at
first, may ever BE discolored by the
least stain that falls upon its surface.
The couch of sickness may be call.
ed woman's hottest sphere. For, there
Nightly vlgis DER the invalid's unrest.
words of consolation for the souls dis.
quiet, hymns of hope for the faitering,
anthems of praise for the sangune, and
dirges for the dead, these, all these,
ale her offices at the bedside of the
young, the aged, the weak, the strong,
the soldier, and the saint, always rem.
dered with alacrity and cheerfulness,
either in the cabin or the camp, he
howell or the palace! Then look ye,
watchers, TO your words, for oft, per-
haps, they are uttered, while some spi.
rlt is waiting to bear cisembodied
soul to Heaven, with thy last accents
lingering around it, for YEA! or wo--
forever!
The temple OF waman is the banquet,
be it the rude oakea table, spread with
frugal fare-or the festive hoard, cows
cred with damask, and o'erladen with
the fruits ofevery cIime-around which
wealsk and wit may pass the ocund
hours. There, should be woman's TEN.
pie. For if her presence can render
poverty less cheerless, and sweeten ths
hard-earned crust-then can she string,
among the sparkling gems of wit, the
pearls which are ever hers ana can on
ly be dissolved and lost when hidden
in the acid which disassociates them
forever. Thus, the temple of woman
is home and its domestic pleasures
Then look ye, ma,rons, to your feasts,
for m:rth may make the fleeing hours
pass like the sunbeams that ri pen the
seed sown in the hearts deep soil,
which if unattended when their tender
shoots pu, forth, may produce those
gnarled and twisted twigs, with roots
more crooked than they, to cut out
which would, perhaps, require sur-
gerry so deep, that few who would un-
dergo, wOull ever survive tue operas
ZION.
The tomb! aye, there again is wos
mans shrine. See her, now offering
at the grave an ohla,ion of the heart
that trusting, fond ,hexile heart-which
goes gushing and throbbing thro,' this
| world in one continual sorrow-mak-
ing the lips mo.ionless and mute. or it
moved at AL, only with the eloquent
language of grief, which vents itself in
sohs aud signs. Yes, at the altar. her
whole soul goes with the idol that has
cas-, its shadow Ger her path.
WuoopING CouGH.-A teaspoonlul
of oil 10 tablespoonful of molasses, a
t.,Spoonfnl ri I'M. ,uiYture piven when.