Clarksville weekly chronicle. (Clarksville, Tenn.) 1873-1890, 1874-10-24
5 a source Of incalculable benefit,

young and old. alike feel its benign
influence and are all more or less in
terested in the growth and prosperity.
Being a teacher of youth myself,
making the idiosyncrasy Of the youth
full mind my study, know and feel the
Importance Of the subject whereof /
speak. The first Sunday School in
Nashville was organized by the gifted
wife of Felix Grundy, assisted by Sam
p Ameut. There is an incident in
its history that should animate patron
and pupil OF every Sunday School to
exertion. Mr. Ament, who was a very
prompt business man, l knew him
when ! was school boy myself. in
the days Of the old University, under
Doctor Linsley, my alma mater, came |
up with two little boys fighting on
Sunday. He separated them, and in
their torn and bloody condition con-
Quoted them to the Sunday School
and turned them over to Mrs. Grundy,
who had their faces washed, and then |
proposed to them if they would be |
regular in their attendance at school,
she would present them with new
suit of clothes. This they acceded to,
exhibited great aptness for learning,
received their presents, acquitted
themselves with great credit in the
school and afterwards were men that
Tennessee delighted to honor, Judge
r. and Major NJ. They were bound
boys, and received the nucleus of their
education in the Sunday School. There
was erected living monument to the
name of that coed woman and man
and the Sunday School. Felix Grundy
once said in the Senate of the United
States that he longed to see the time
when Sunday Schools would be in OPP
Grafton over the whole country. How
true, that in the wreck of great mems
lives, somethingimmortal stillsurvives.
Mothers, this work is yours. Men
differ and are alienated by other duties;
woman never in this work. owe all
to my mother for what of early train
ing | had. / never forgot it. No
matter where, it was always present,
whether in pleasure, sin or sorrow, it
was ever there, and when at last, |
stood by her dying couch and babe her
farewell-took the last, long, lingering
look to bear my bleeding heart away
saw the last sweet smile as her soul
took its flight to the eternal realms of
bliss, not a murmur, no pain was
| there, / witnessed the Christians
triumph over death. This was the
last, best lesson ever taught. My loss
was her immortal gain, and l then re-
solved it should be mine, and in my
solitude and lonely hours l feel a
sweet communion with her still.
ayes, yet once again I've seen thee, and my
every thought is thine;
| Aye. kneel to thee in worship, as to an
idol shrine,
And my spirits lonely chamber, where
hope may ever be,
! One lovely light is burning; tits holy
love of thee.
/ see thee, oh! see thee, in the shadow
upon the River,
And in the moons pale beams that on the
bright lake CULVER;
see thee in the twists that move like
spectres DER the stream
And at midnight deep 1 see thee in the
shadowy world of Dreams;
hear thee, oh! hear thee, in the chime
of evening bells,
And in the murmur that DER the deep at
solemn twilight swells;
hear thee in the zephyrs, swept by the
breath OF even,
And in that low, sweet music voice that
| tells the soul of Heaven"
Yours, mothers, is the work of love
that cunningly thought with thought
binds the soul as well as hands
and roses grow along the path of duty.
IT'S love the bosom contents with
earth's every life lot, that plucks the
sting from adverse fate, and cloud
by day, fire by night, irradiates the
progress of our pilgrimage over
garden, waste, or wild and subsists on
the manner of its mental food, and
drinks sweet waters from the desert
rock-love that burned eternal fires in
Sappho's song, that lived in sadder
verse from the pen of Robert Burns,
while yet from many a tuneful voice
is walled his dirge of grief for High
land Mary. love that angel that fingers
here of Eden lost, and secretly sings
of Heaven. God is love, the soul is
love. and here you have an immortal
attribute to govern and direct the
future of these little people that brings
them at once under the influence of
the divine command. Will you do it /?
and lay up treasures that are incorrupt-
able and fade not away. Then,
mothers, bless the day that brings into
operation a Sunday School in your
midst. Dedicate to it your household
and yourselves as instructors at its
altar, and SOW the sweet seeds of early
piety that will live in memory dear
when you have been gathered to the
house of your father. In sunshine,
in shade. in all tria and troubles of
life, this little germ you have planted
in the bosom of your chill will live, a
green spot upon ife S deser waste, a
star of love to thee. Yea, break and
shatter the vase as you will, the scent
of the roses will hang round it still, "
and when buffeted by the winds of ad-
versity, jeered and scoffed at by cold
uncharitable world, the teachings of
his mother will come then to his re ief,
he turns to God, the soul is saved by
a mothers love, and you have your re-
ward.
A word to the children, and | am
done. This is no ordinary occasion.
Those who have assembled here have
met in no sordid interest. Those you
see around you are workers upon that
crimsoned veined marble out of which