The Wellington enterprise. [volume] (Wellington, Ohio) 1867-188?, 1884-11-19


given up TO evil practices does not startlei
US very much, for we expect those who live
In the ditch to have the manners of the
ditch. But when we find wickedness Joined
to acuteness of intellect and attractive
ness of manner, we are startled. The ac-
complishments of Mary Queen of Scots
make her patronage Of Darnley, the profit
gate, the more astounding. The genius of
Catherine H., Empress of Russia, only set
of in more repelling light her unappeasa-.
BILE ambition. The translations which
Elizabeth made from the Latin and the
Greek and her extraordinary qualification
for Queen only brought out into more
vivid contempt her capricousness of afrec-
tion and haughtiness Of temper. Lord By
ron's greatness makes the more shameful
Lord Byron's sensusality. Let no one think
that suavity Of bearing or high style Of
accomplishment can apologize for vanity,
or ill-temper. or unkindness. Disobedience
to God or unrighteousness toward man
will becloud the most brilliant attachments.
Though your accomplishments be heaven
high, they will not excuse for vice hell
deep.
Again, learn the real influence Of woman.
In the power which Eve exercised over
Adam and on the destiny of uncounted
generations see type Of the power which
her descendants should exercise. We have
no sympathy with the batteries that are
showered upon her from the pulpit and the
stage. The true nobility of woman con-
sists in the power Of Christian influence.
Ewes overthrow Of Adam and the race was
only an illustration Of what power there is
now in the frail arm Of woman to strike
until the echo ring through eternity, down
among the caverns or up among the
thrones. The influence was not monopo-
lized by such great representative women
as Eve, who ruined the race with one fruit
plucking; nor of Jael, who sent q spike
through the head of Sisera; nor of Esther,
who overcame royalty; nor of Abigail, who
by her beautiful countenance arrested o
hostile army; nor Of Mary, who nursed the
worlds Savior; nor of the great dancer,
who carried about on a dish the CORY head
OF John the Baptist; nor Of Grandmother
Lois, who was immortalized in her grand
son Timothy; nor Of Charlotte Corday,
who, with her dagger, slew the assassin of
her lover; nor of Marie Antoinette, who
could conquer mob by one look from the
balcony of her castle, and whose scaffold
was a throne of forgiveness and moral
courage. l refer to the mothers, to the
wives, to the daughters, to the sisters, who,
unambitious for political power and the
scramble of the hustings, are performing
the ten thousand sweet offices of home.
When thus speak find myself using as
n model one whom about twenty years ago
we put away for the resurrection. About
eighty years ago, just before the day Of
their marriage, my father and mother stood
up in the old Westinghouse at Somerville
to take the vows of Christian. Through
long life of vicissitudes she lived blame
lessly and usefully, and came to her end
In peace. No child Of want ever came to
her door and was turned away. No strick-
en- soul ever appealed to her and was not
comforted. No sinner ever asked her the
way TO be saved and was not pointed TO
Chr st. When the age Of Life came to q
neighbor's dwelling she was there to re-
joice at the incarnation, and when the angel
of Death came she was there to robe the de-
parted one for burial. We had often heard
her while kneeling among her children at
family prayers, when father was absent,
say: "I ask not for my children wealth or
honor; but do ask that they may all be-
come the subjects Of Thy converting
grace" She had seen oil her eleven chill
dren gathered into the Church, and she had
but ono more wish, and that was that she
might again see her missionary son. And
when the sh p from China anchored in New
York harbor, and the long absent one
crossed the threshold Of her paternal home,
she said: snow, Lord, lettest Thou Thy
servant depart in peace, for mine eyes have
seen Thy salvation"
We were gathered from afar TO see only
the house from which the sou, had fed for
ever. How calm she looked! Her folded
hands appeared just as when they were
employed in kindness for her children.
And we could not help but say as we stood
and looked at her: "Don't she look beauti-
fulw Il was a cloudless day when with
| heavy hearts we carried her out to the last
! resting place. The withered leaves crum-
/ bed under wheel and hoof as we passed,
and the setting sun shone upon the river
until 1t looked like fire. But more calm
and bright was the setting sun Of this aged
pilgrims life. No more toll. No more
tears. No more sickness. No more death.
Dear mother! Beautiful mother!
"sweet is the slumber beneath the sod,
While the pure soul is resting with God"