Weekly Trinity journal., 1870-07-16
A Dead Mother.

It is the lot of all to die. 1t is certain that
the destroying angel will in turn enter every
household; yet the thoughtless inhabitants of
earth do not realize this until death stares them
in the face or they are suddenly and rudely sep
arated from those they hold most dear 1t is
the mournful duty and priceless privilege of the
writer of this article TO chronicle the demise and
publish to the world the virtues of dearly-be-
loved mother, Mrs. Celia Ann Loveioy She
had been in frail health for several years, but it
was not suspected that she had any organic dis.
ease. On Saturday, the 9th instant she at
tended upon a dying woman "a stranger in the
place. and from the shock received at witnessing
death-bed scene she never recovered. On Sun
day following she was barely able to be around
On Monday next, she was unable to be up, and
that evening, while vomiting, burst a blood yes
sci and expired in the arms of her only son in
less than half a minute. The life of Mrs. Love
Joy was an eventfui one, and she drank deeply
OF the bitter cup of adversely. Reared in the lap
OF luxury, her trials began with her marriage
Her husband was hunted down like wild beast
and was finally assassinated in cold blood
Through all these troubles and exciting times
she never blenched nor faltered Threats nor
entreaties could not divide her from her bus-
band in the hour of danger. When he was laid
low by the hand of mid night assasSins, after
the ensuing paroxysm Of anguish, she devoted
herself to the rearing of his infant son, Most
no6ly did she discharge this duty. Language is
too weak to express her utter unselfshness and
self-sacri6cing devotion. The object of her un-
bounded affection lives only to cause her mem
ory to be beloved and revered. No monument
can be too costly a token of remembrance,
and no epitaph however studied exaggerate her
many virtues. Charitable to fault, her good
deeds were carefully concealed from every one
industrious as the day was long, upon the
slightest symptom of indispostion on their part,
she would urge upon others the necessity of re-
framing from labor and taking the best care of
themselves. To be concise the character of this
the poet
"And cen her feeling leaned to virtues side"
Having arrived at a ripe old age, and seeing her
darling boy established in life, she often said she
had no further ambition to crafty, and was
ready to go. For her son she was ready to
make any sacrifice; his welfare was her sole
aim. When he forgets her unutterable affection
and upselfish devotion, may just God forget
him. About this dead decaying mother he
could write and speak forever, but the world
would not care to hear There must be an end
TO all things, and he must close. 1t is hard to
bid adieu to such a friend. The relations of
this mother and son were peculiar. For more
than twenty years they were all in all to each
other BY day and night they were constant
companions Between them there existed an ex-
elusive and unreseryed confidence. They lived
in world of their own, barring their inmost
hearts to each other but to none else The
world can never know or understand the sorrows
of the survivor, and enough has been said
The funeral obsequies over 1t only remains
TO speak the last sorrowful words of parting
Beloved mother, pleasant companion, cheering
comforter, faithful friend, father, mother
brother, sister, more than all combined, a sad,
last long farewell.