Recollections Of A Mother    


THE days of my childhood have long since

passed away, but the remembrance of them,

though sometimes mingled with sadness, is 

oftener soothing and refreshing to my spirit. The

 recollections of an intelligent, affectionate and

 pious mother I love most to cherish, because 

they not only delight, but elevate and purify my

 heart. From the earliest dawnings of intellect 

and affection, my attachment to her was strong,

 and her influence unbounded. Nor did they 

diminish with my advancing childhood and youth;

 for they were sustained and strengthened by a 

tenderness, a prudence and a piety, the most

 uniform and watchful. Even now I seem, at 

times, to feel the gentle movements of my kind

 and anxious mother, as amid the shivering cold

 of a northern winter, she came night after night

 to my lowly bed, long after my eyes were closed

 in sleep, and scarcely waked me from my 

slumber, while she carefully pressed the warm

 covering around my feet and limbs.

Nor can I soon forget the impression oft made

upon my childish heart, when the door of the

sitting-room opened upon me, while engaged

with my morning's book or play, and I looked

up, and saw my mother enter, with her Bible in

her hands and her face still wet with tears. I

needed none to tell me what had been her 

employment, Whence she came. More" than

once, in the pursuit of her I loved, I had followed

her to the place of her retirement, found

her upon her knees, and listened to her tones of

fervent tenderness, while with many tears she

prayed God to have mercy upon me and keep

me from evil, and to bless those she loved. On

such occasions, kneeling or standing beside my

praying mother, I had a strange but affecting

sense of a present God, who heard her prayer,

and thought and felt that I could not, must not

grieve or disobey such a tender, godly mother.

When some ten or eleven years of my life had

rolled quietly away, I was thrown, at school, into

the company of boys who did not fear to take

God's name in vain, and learned to imitate their

examples so far as to use improper, if not 

profane language. My ever-watchful mother soon

learned my danger and my sin, and calling me

privately to a seat by her side, warned and 

reproved me with a grief and tenderness, which I

could not resist. She reminded me that she had

dedicated me to God, that I was the Lord's

child. Punishment I could perhaps have borne,

but her words and her tears broke my heart,

though proud and rebellious. She made me

feel that I had sinned against a good and holy

God, and that my wickedness was great. I felt

ashamed and distressed that I had wounded a

heart so pious and so affectionate, and probably

while memory lasts I shall never forget the time

and the place, the expressive countenance, and

the earnest manner of my mother. From my

earliest childhood, I had been taught, and in

some degree accustomed to pray, and now 

began seriously to seek the salvation of my soul.

In my mother I had confidence, and from her I

sought counsel. As she lay upon her sick-bed

she turned to me and said, with a seriousness of

manner, and with a tone of emotion which 

impressed the words upon my inmost soul, 

"Strive, my son, agonize, to enter in at the strait

 gate."

Before my thirteenth year I was permitted, with

others of my own age, to approach the table of

the Lord. My mind had been sometimes 

powerfully impressed by the fervor and 

tenderness of my mother's prayers, when she

 assembled her children around the family altar,

 and supplicated the protection and blessing of 

God upon us and our absent father. Now I was 

more deeply affected when on a similar occasion

 my mother turned to me and said, "Henceforth,

 my son, we shall expect you to lead the 

devotions of the family in your father's absence."

 In the following year I left the home of my 

childhood, to pursue my studies in a distant city,

 and was afterward only an occasional inmate in

 my father's house. But my mother's influence,

 the remembrance of her example and prayers

 still followed me, as a guardian angel, to 

preserve me from the many dangers and

 temptations which were around my path.

During one of my college vacations I was

called to take charge of my father's school. After

two or three days I was somewhat tried by

the misconduct of several boys but little younger

than myself, and at dinner gave vent to my

 feelings by the remark, "I do not know but I

 shall have to kill some of those boys." My 

mother turned upon me her full, dark eyes, 

kindled and yet softened by the emotions of her

 soul, and twice repeating my name, with a look

 and tone strongly expressive of surprise and 

grief,  conveyed- to my heart gently, but 

effectually, the deserved rebuke.

I soon sought my chamber, there to weep

over my impatient spirit, and to ask forgiveness

for my sin against God, and my unkindness to

my mother.

During the years that have since glided swiftly

away I have ever felt myself more indebted

to my mother than to any other human agency

for whatever I have attained or enjoyed. The

remembrance of her instructions and reproofs

still excites me to be more consistent, more 

useful,and thus more happy, as a disciple and a

minister of Jesus Christ, and I praise God that

she yet lives to bless me with her counsel, her

example, and her prayers.





 Mother's Magazine.