The gold leaf. [volume] (Henderson, N.C.) 1881-1911, 1893-03-16
MOTHER.
ONE OF THE SWEETES
NAMES IN OUR LANGUAGE.
and Thoucing and Tender
Tribute to a Sainted Mother by DR..
kingsbury.
Wilmington Messenger

This writer was SO unfortunate as to
have no mother to guide, bless and
love him after he was about eight
years of age. And yet, the memory
of that sainted mother-for she was
indeed a Christian woman of most
devout nature and pure life, for God
had touched her soul and she believed
is very precious to him in 1895,
although she s'fell on Sleep in great
peace and resignation and hope in
1896, and as sweet to the soul as spice
ladened zephyrs from Araby the
Blest to the cheek of the sick and
suffering. 1t is most precious,
inestimable blessing to have mother
God bless the faithful, good mothers
of our land and the world! The
sainted mothers cannot return to earth,
but their faithful, believing children
who live holy lives that are child with
Christ in God" can 60 to that
sBeulah land" and rejoin them after
''life's ftful fever ends.
Is there any other word in all our
language SO sweet, SO tender, SO dear
as-mother? Around it gathers the
most tender memories and the most
fondly cherished associations. 1t is a
very depraved and unnatural creature
who does not love tenderly and deeply,
his mother. When all other claims
have failed with the prodigal the voice
of mother has possessed still charm
and potency to bring him back to
reason and duty. Like the tones of
the maiden's voice to the lover, the
accents of mothers tongue have
ever been sweet and enhancing to the
true son in whose heart remained
forever the image of the dear one who
bore and nurtured him. We see this
grand passion of the soul illustrated
most beautifully in the life of our
Savior. How lovingly he remembers
his mother, even amid the agonles of
the cross, when he commits her to the
tender charge of the disciple to whom
he was 50 deeply and especially
attached: "When Jesus therefore saw
his mother, and the disciple standing
by, whom he loved, he saith unto his
mother, Woman, behold thy son!
Then he said to the disciple, behold
thy mother! And from that hour
that disciple took her into his own
home"
Men love their mothers more than
any other beings, with whom they are
connected by the ties of blood, because
they know how deep, inexhaustible,
and undying is mothers love for
them. The love of others may fail,
but that Of mother is perennial and
everlasting.
Many of the great men of the world
have chung to their mothers with an
ardor and love that was very beautiful.
The affection that DR.. Johnson had
for his mother was more creditable to
him than any literary abilities he
possessed. The illustrious George
Charming loved his mother most
tcnderly, and, it is related of him,
made ample provision for her support.
When foreign ambassador, he wrote
to her invariably every week letter Of
love. She was a plain woman, but
his heart was too good, too noble,
too true to feel any shame for OBJ
security.
Though he could never elevate her
tastes and association above the con-
nections Of her youth, he used to
throw aside the cares of Office, that he
might visit her and the humble cousins
with whom she dwelt at Bath, and
there, when in the zenith Of his fame,
would walk out with his plebeian
relatives, and receive the homage of
his lordly visitants at that fashionable
place of resort, in their company.
Now Claiming was Prime Minister
of Great Britain, was great orator
and statesman, and one of the most
accomplished literary men of his times
But how much more does his deep
love for his mother dignity and ele-
vate him than do his eloquence, genius
and power.
Lamartine, referring to his mother,
says: "She was tender and afec-
tionate by nature, and the impressive
ness and love still resound in my heart,
after that voice has, alas! been long
mute
And lastly, for we have not the
space for other quotations, the gentle
and very rarely gifted Charles Lamb
writing this to his friend, tn great
Samuel Taylor Coleridge, said:
"Oh my friend! l think some
times could recall the days that are
past, which among them should l
choose? Not those 'merrier days.
not those wanderings with a fair
haired maid, which l have SO often
and so feelingly regretted, but the
days, Coleridge, of a mothers fond
ness for her schoolboy. What would
l give to call her back to earth for
one day, on my knees to ask her
pardon for all those little asperlties Of
temper which, from time to time, have
given her gentle spirit pain And
the day, my friend, trust will come;
there will be time enough for kind
Offices of love, if Heavens eternal
years be ours. Hereafter her meek
spirit shall not reproach me. Oh, my
friend, cultivate the filial feelings! and
let no man think himself released from
the kind scharities' of relationship;
these shall give him peace at last:
thesesare the best foundation tor every
species of benevolence.
Young maidens, young men, cherish,
obey, honor, love your mothers, and
in after years when they are sleeping
the last sleep and you stand over their
graves you will find no cause for bitter
self-reproach, for poignant regrets over
Thar