The Kanzas news., 1858-05-01
For THr KAnzas d, Nxrs.
A Mothers T.nua

The only love which on this teemiug earth
Asks NO return for passions vayward birth. ;"
A mothers love! How thrilling the
sound The angel spirit that watched over
US in our infant years. and cheered US with
ber smiles; who ministered to our wants
when we were unable to provide for our
selvesl Oh, how faithfully does memory
cling to the fading mementoes of a parents
home, Frightened by the recollection of that
waking eye that never closed while single
wave Of misfortune or danger sighed around
her child. Like the lone star of the heavens
in the deep solitude of Natures night, she
sits the presiding divinity of the family
mansion, its delight and its charm, its stay
and its hope, when all around her is o'er-
sbadowed with the gloom of despsndeney
and despair.
Who does not feel his heart kindle and
glow with feelings of tenderness and love
as he pronounces the word Mother 1t is
then that all the tender emotions of the
heart are awakened, and all the pleasing re-
membranes of her who was our guardian
and protector during our infancy, come
trooping up to the mind in countless num-
bers. With what devotion does the heart
cherish her image With what variety
of emotions does the soul mediate upon the
happy hours spent in her society!
Il is she who instils into our minds the
importance of mental culture, and that we
must lay up for ourselves those treasures of
knowledge which last through all the chang
es and vicissitudes of life, and in the dark
est hours afford US comfort and joy. 1t is
she who subdues our evil passions, and en-
deayors to render US kind, gentle and obe-
dent. There may be loving sisters. a kind,
indulgent father, but the mothers name
fingers more fondly Oh the lips, and about
her face and form memory gathers with a
warmer, fresher feeling, and clings to her
looks, her tones, with fonder tenacity.-
The stars may fade away, the sun himself
grow dim with age, and the fires of God
consume this globe on which We live. but
the devotion of mother is unceasing, last
ing as eternity itself. The same
Through Joy and through sorrow, through glory
and shame"
We may find the world uncharitable, friends
may prove treacherous, and envy and malice
may hurl their envenomed darts but the
mother, through sunshine and storm, clings
to her child with an unfaltering affection.
Her constant thoughts are of us; and
though she may have but one loaf to share,
her child is welcome to the most. There is
none in all the world so ready and willing
to sacrifice their happiness for ours-none
so fervently prays to heaven to bless and
guide us in the path of virtue, truth and
love-none watches so diligently by our
voice, ever soft. low and soothing, falls upon
the ear like summer evening zephyrs that
| fan the fevered brow, and still the tumult-
uous throbbing of the excited heart.
| II er influence is not like the torrent
bursting from the mountain side, and mad
| ly rushing on to the great deep ocean; not
like the broad rays of the mid day sun, that
scorch and bewilder by their own intensity /;
but like the gentle beams that fall from the
silver orbs of night, or the calm and placid
river that steadily pursues its course, cheer
ing the heart with the low music of its fall
ing waters.
A mothers love is a symbol of the love
of our Savior, for we may at times treat
with contempt her good counsels, but she
is ever ready to forgive US, and with ex-
tended arms to welcome US back to her
heart and home. She attends US through
all the varying scenes of this evontful life,
and when her pure spirit wings its flight to
heaven, does she not at times revisit US in
spirit form-in Joy to temper exultation, in
grief to fan the fevered brow with angel
wings, and beckon US on to the golden gates
within which ''tbe wicked cease from trou-
bling and the weary are at rest ?'' What a
sense of desolation the heart must feel when
death comes to take her away-when the eye
that once beamed with affection is lusterless
when her lips. from which words of kind
ness fell, are motionless and when she is
followed to her last, long resting place, tie
mind is half frenzied by the agonies that
wrung the bosom.
Sacred forever be the dust that covers
hers. A stranger should tread lightly DER
that hallowed spot. There proud ambition
is subdued. and dreams of fame for time
lose their brightness; there the turf should
be greenest and the sunshine brightest
Affection prompts and the rose is planted,
blooms. fades and withers upon her grave,
emblematical of our ephemeral existence,
and teaching US that we, too, must pass
away. We may be separated from, or hel
voice of love and kindness may be hushed
in the awful stiffness of the grave, yet mem
lory of her in the blaze of noon day and in
the solemn silence of the night, will stea
over US like the minstrel harp, 'ssad, bu
pleasant to the soul,'' for
"There is none,
In all this cold and hollow world, no fount
OF deep, strong, deathless love, save that withir
| A mothers heart"
Neosho Valley, Kanzas.