Democratic Northwest. [volume] (Napoleon, Ohio) 1869-1894, 1892-01-07

awoke, by tivine Arrangem = aIfl Ia soms
unexplained way. the child Jesus might
have been found N some comfortable cradle
/ Of the village. Bot 20. no. Mol-erhood fol
| all time was lie Clns~Httea q and one ol
I the tenden<i rylatiuns was 70 b. the ma
/ ternAi reii., :, and one OF the sweetest
| words "Mot.-r.r In all ages God la,
hOnored COOL motherhood John Wesley
had a good mother, 81 Bernard had a good
mother, Samuel Budge;t gn0d mother
Doddridge good mother. Wnll.r Scott q
good mother. Benjamin West a good
mother.
In great audience, most Of whom wert
Christians, asked that all those who had
been blessed Of Christian mothers arise
and almost the entire assembly stood up
Don't you see how important il is that al
motherhood be eonsecrateds Why did
Titan, the Italian artist. when he sketched
the Madonna, make it an Italian facet
Why did Rubens, the German artist, in
his Madonna, make il a German facet
Why did Joshua Reynolds, the English
artist, in his Madonna, make It an English
facei Why did Murillo, the Spanish artist
In his Madonna, make it Spanish faces
never heard but | think they took their
own mothers as the type of Mary, the
mother Of Christi When you hear some
one, in sermon or oration, speak in the alb
stract of a good, faithful, honest mother,
your eyes fill up with tears while you say
to yourself, THAT was my mother"
THE GLORY OF MOTHERHOOD.
The first word a child utters is apt to be
Mother" and the old man in his dying
dream calls "Motherl motherP' 1t matters
not whether she was brought up in the sur
roundings Of a city, and in alfiuent home,
and was dressed appropriately with refer
ence to the demands Of modern life, OF
whether she wore the old time cap and
great round spectacles, and apron of her
own make, and knit your socks with her
own needles, seated by the broad fireplace,
with great black logs ablaze ON a winter
night It matters not how many wrinkles
crossed and recrossed her face, or how
much her shoulders stopped with the bur
dens of long life If you painted Ma
donna hers would be the face. What a
gentle hand she had when we were sick,
and what a voice to sooth pain, and was
there any one who could so fill up room
with peace and purity and lighti And
what sad day that was when we came
home and she could greet us not, for her
lips were forever still
Come back, mother, this Christmas day
and take your old place, and as ten or
twenty or fifty years ago come and open
the old Bible as you used to; read and kneel
in the same place where you used to pray
and look upon us as of old, when you
wished US merry Christmas or happy
New Year. But, mol That would not be
fair to call you back You had troubles
enough and aches enough and bereave-
ments enough while you were here. Tarry
by the throne, mother, till we join you
there, your prayers all answered, and in
the eternal homestead of our God we shall
again keep Christmas jubilee together
But speak from your thrones, all you glori-
fed mothers, and say to all these, your
sons and daughters, words of love, words
Of warning, words of cheer. They need
your voice, for they have Travelled far and
with many heartbreak since you left
them, and you do well to call from the
heights of heaven to the valleys of earth
Hail. enthroned ancestry We are coming.
Keep place right beside you at the ban
quet.
Slow footed yearsl More swiftly run
Into the gold of that unsetting sun;
Homesick we are for thee.
Calm land beyond the sea.