k-^ ri ■wry-'- ^^ iL^ ^ n^ -i^'J^'*'^ rV-> itr^ ■^j^.. ^ ^ ^^ i k^'" > •^^. ^ > "^ " ^ ■«^-> i>' : V v^y'i: ./ V^- >^>-. ^^1^ V-^/^ir --<, . 7 ^ ^\ ^|Br^ ^'^vKv^^N.. €^t i^atl] of a ^otlj^r: J^ DISCOURSE • DELIVERED IN TUB FIRST CONGREGATIONAL CHURCH, CHICAGO, ILLINOIS, SABBATH, ^TJGS-TJST S, ISST. By WILLIAM AV. PATTON. CHICAGO: STEAM PRESSES OP SCRIPPS, BROSS & SPEARS, 45 CLARK STREET. 1857. PUBLISHED BY REQUEST, THE DEATH OF A MOTHER. Psalm xxxv. 14. "I bowed down lieavily, as one that mourneth for liis mother." There is no sound in tlie English language, if we except that which expresses the name of our Savior, which falls upon the ear ^vith so sweet and touching a cadence as the word Mother. From the earliest hours of dependent and affectionate childhood to the last moment.^ of expiring age, it is, of all words Avhicli relate to earth, the most precious, retaining its charm through every change of life, and breathing music into the verj ear of death. The face upon which our eyes first learned to look with love in this world, remains fixed in memory — as it were daguerreotyped on the heart — until the pulse ceases to beat and we j)ass to a world where the relationships of time merge in those of eternitv. Tliis feeling of interest and afJ'ectiou is the result of a divine constitution. God ordained tliat every hu- man being, subsequent to the first created pair, should liave a mother. Not even "-the man Christ Jesus" was exempt from this law of ontj-anco into mortal life. THE DEATH OF A MOTHER. Tliougli lie acknowledged no father but God, lie was tlie son of a virgin, and learned in cliildliood to lisp the precious name of mother! Tliis divine arrange- ment was intended to secure numerous and important ends, through the mutual love of mother and child. It is, therefore, an interesting study to inquire into the facts connected with this phase of the family. First, then, I remark, that the relation of a MOTHER TO A CHILD IS PECULIAR. It is hascd UpOll the physical fact of birth. Tlie child derives its being from its mother, and is emphatically "bone of her bone and flesh of her flesh." She has borne the child with all that special suffering which, in every language under heaven, has been made the flgure of the most intense agony. At the risk, and sometimes at the ex- pense, of the mother's life, does every child enter the world. This constitutes a link between the two, such as binds in no other relation. Tliere can be no ap- proximation of any other person, in the eyes of a mother, to her own child. Tliere can be no substitute, on the other hand, in the eyes of a child, for a mother. Tliey are peculiarly one, as trunk and branch are one, as the sun and its light are one. Tlie mother never forgets that her children are her oflspring, with her blood in their veins, her life in their heart. Then follows the fact of early, protracted, self- denying and all-embracing rare. Tlie new l)orn babe, THE DEATH OF A MOTHER. utterly helpless, is cast upon the care of the mother, - who from that moment assumes a responsibility which only maternal love could sustain, and enters upon long years of labor and sacrifice. By day and by night, in health and in illness, without intermission save in an anxious sleep which the slightest disturbance ends, does the mother wait uj^on the wants of her little one. To guard it from harm and to promote its happiness, is the one thought ever present in her mind, con- sciously cherished during the greater portion of the time, and abiding in the depths of her heart even when, for brief periods, she is drawn to other duties. JS'o person but herself sustains this relation of perpet- ual care, to ward off actual aiid possible harm, to sup- ply every bodily want, to minister comfort in the many but brief griefs of childhood, and to be a con- tinual sunshine around the young plant. God thought of this maternal symi^athy, when he said lovingly to his people, "Then shall ye suck, ye shall be borne upon her sides, and be dandled upon her knees ; as one whom his mother comforteth, so will I comfort you." And the Bible also presents a very natural and affecting illustration in the case of the little son of the Shunammite woman, wlio, being taken ill, as he watclied the reapers, cried out, "My head! my head;" upon which the father said, "Carry him to his mother;" and we read that "he sat on her knees 6 THE DEATH OF A MOTH]i:R. till noon, and then died." Yes, it is tlie mother whose all-embracing care is at hand in every emergency, and who may be said to live for her child. Tlien we nmst add the fact, that to tha mother is committed the earliest and most important instruction and training of the child. It is she who has nnder sole charge the tender mind in its most susceptible stage, w^hen the deepest impressions are made ot thought and feehng, and the first directions are given to the will. Solomon, even from the throne, looked back to the instruction which he had received from his mother; for in the book of Proverbs we find such sentences as these frequently recurring: ''My son, for- sake not the law of thy mother;" "I was tender and only beloved in the sight of my mother;" "Tlie words of King Lemuel, the prophecy that his mother taught him." And so every man, who has been blessed w^ith a faithful and pious mother, will remember that his earliest lessons were learned in his mother's lap, and that from her lips' and kneeling by her side, he was taught to pronounce the name of God and to articulate the words of prayer. 'No other person has that full authority, deep interest, constant access and perpetual presence, which make a mother's instructions the very atmosphere in which the child moves and breathes. Tlie infantile years of life, which are, beyond doubt, the forming period of character, are placed at her sole THE DEATH OF A IMUTUEK. disposal, so tliat in no untrue sense she may be said to be tlie mother of the child in soul and body alike. Secondly, we should notice the fact, that fkom this PECULIAR RELATION RESULTS AN ANSWERING MUTUAL LOVE BETWEEN THE MOTHER AND THE CHILD. TlllS love is, on both sides, partly blind and instinctive, and partly intelligent and cultivated. God has implanted, even in brutes, a strong affection for their offspring, at least during the period in which the latter need pro- tection. Tlie human mother has this passion devel- oped permanently in its highest form. Tlie first sight of her new born babe is attended with a gush of feel- ing such as she has never before experienced, and from that moment a fountain of deep and tender emo- tion is opened, which never ceases to flow while life continues, for it is increased by all the contact, labor and self-denial of subsequent years, with their results of good in the child. Indeed, this becomes the master passion of her nature, and for the defence and happi- ness of her children, she will sacrifice every personal blessing which earth can afford. Hence God himself appeals to this all-engrossing and imperishable love, as an illustration of his love for Zion, in the well known passage commencing with the words, '' Can a woman forget her sucking child, that she should not have compassion on the son of her womb ?" Tlie use, also, which Solomon made of maternal love in deciding to 8 THE DEATH OF A MOTHEK. wliom a disputed child belonged, will occur at once to every mind. The instinctive love of the lower animals for their offspring ceases when the latter have arrived at matu- ^•ity. The lioness cares not for her cub when it has become a full grown lion. Tlie female bird, that will try every possible art and display the most sm^Drising com'age to conceal and protect her brood, deserts them w^hen they can provide for themselves. j^Jot so does maternal love expire in the human breast. A mother's eye never loses sight of a child when manhood or wo- manhood is reached ; a mother's heart never ceases to rejoice m the prosperity and to sorrow in the afflic- tions of her children. Let the man of middle age come to honor, and it may be said to him then, as truly as in the days of liis childhood, in the language of Solomon, "Tliy father and thy mother shall be glad, and she that bore thee shall rejoice." Let him fall into sin and dishonor, and the bowed head of his gray- haired mother will proclaim how intensely she feels it, who a half century before gave birth to him in min- gled joy and agony ; for as the wise man observed, "A foolish son is the heaviness of his mother" — "a grief to his father and bitterness to her that bore him." " Sweet is the image of the brooding dove ! Holy as heaven, a mother's tender love — The love of many prayers and many tears, Which changes not with dim, declining years." THE DEATH OF A MOTHER. 9 And tliis afFection is returned, thongli in a weaker degree, by tlie child. Tlie first and strongest affection of our nature is given to our motlier, whose loving face hangs over our infancy, and to whose arms we leap with joy from all other embrace. This natural clinging to the mother does indeed, in a few years, be- come less close, especially with boys, and during youth there is often an abatement of filial afiection, particu- larly in cases where restraint is unw^elcome. But as soon as reason regains her sway, parental claims are more respected than ever, and the word mothek thrills on the ear with more than wonted power. Every noble nature is highly susceptible of this filial regard, and we instinctively honor the young man wdiose attention is lavished upon his mother, and to whom her word is law now as in younger days. It is one of the most touching traits in our Savior's character, that eminent as was his station, many and sorrowful his trials, he was ever thoughtful of her who, in virgin purity, bore him ; so that in the hour of his agony, as he hung upon the cross, at whose foot stood the w^eep- ing Mary, he tenderly committed her to the protection of the beloved disciple, saying to her, "liehold thy son!" and to John, ''Behold thy mother!" And who does not admire the respect with which Solomon, at the time the most illustrious and powerful sovereign in the world, treated his mother, when she came be- 1-^ 10 THE DEATH OF A MOTHER. fore liis throne to make a request? "And the kmg rose up to meet her and bowed himself unto her and sat down on his throne and caused a seat to be set for the king's mother; and she sat on his right hand." Who does not detect the swelling of filial love in the royal heart, as in persuasive tones he encourages her to speak, saying, "Ask on, my mother; for I will not say thee nay?" And if we turn to the delightful verses of Cowper — all of which deserve to become "household words," so replete are they with purity of imagination and refinement of feeling, and so full of domestic pictures — which of them strikes a more re- sponsive chord, than those lines upon the recej)tion of his departed mother's portrait, which the coldest tem- perament can scarce peruse without tears? How his grateful memory ran back over the scenes of child- hood, as he spake of the home that was for a brief time their own. "Short-lived possession! but the record fair That memory keeps of all thy kindness there, Still outlives many a storm that has effaced A thousand other themes less deeply traced. Thy nightly visits to my chamber made, That thou mightst know me safe and warmly laid; Thy morning bounties ere I left my home, The biscuit or confectionery plumb ; The fragrant waters on my cheeks bestowed By thine own hand, till fresh they shone and glowed ; THE DEATH OF A M0THP:R. 11 All this, still legible in memory's page, And still to be so to my latest age, Adds joy to duty, makes me glad to pay Such honors to thee as my numbers may ; Perhaps a frail memorial, but sincere, Not scorned in heaven, though little noticed here." It is only tlie most hardened and debased heart, if any, that extinguishes this love for a mother. Long years of crime cannot efface the remembrance of the sweet voice which spake of God, and truth, and right, in the ear of childhood. You may go into the largest prison, and" select the most desperate character within its cells of guilt and shame — the wretch who has mur- dered his fellow-man and blasi3hemed his God, and who meets all accusations and reproaches with stern defiance and brazen scorn — and you shall take his hand and talk with him of his boyhood and early home, and ask him whether he remembers his mother, and the deep-drawn sigh, followed by the trickling tear, will convince you, that in that callous soul one tender spot remains, in which lies buried the memory of a mother's love. And how often has this single and last cord sufficed to draw the victim of sin back to \dii:ue, as he has been led to hope that he might yet become what his mother had thought to see him, or at least might be prepared to meet her in a world of purity above. How often the first step in vice and crime has been arrested, when just about to be taken, 12 THE DEATH OF A MOTHEK. by the sudden recollection of a mother's liopes and prayers and tears. Yes, God made tlie mother to be loved, and as He implanted in her heart an intense yearning over her children, that storge of which the Greek classical writers make such frequent mention, so has he placed among the nobler instincts of om* nature, an answering iilial aifection. Hence, it follow^s, thirdly, that there is a peculiar GRIEF OCCASIONED BY A MOTIIEr's DEATH. ]^0 tWO afflictions are precisely ahke, for they assail different interests and different classes of affections. The grief occasioned by tl^e loss of property or the defeat of an important enterprise, is not the same as that which results from the death of a relative or friend. And so the death of an infant is felt in another manner from that of an adult son or daughter, while we mourn the loss of a husband or w^ife as we do not that of a child. As peculiar links bind us to each class of relatives, so our sorrow at their death assumes varied tyj)es. Where a beloved mother is removed by death, the heart is wounded in a part of exquisite tenderness. Our grief is at once deep and gentle. We feel that a thousand little tendrils of affection that fastened upon om* mother, have been suddenly and rudely torn asunder. We seem to bleed as from a multitude of wounds. With the love wdiich we cherish for a father is mingled much of that awe, THE DEATH OF A MOTHER. 13 reverence and snbniission, whicli create something of distance ; but tlie mother lies in the closest proximity to tlie heart, and when she is taken, we feel specially deserted and sorrowful. This is the view of the Psalmist in the text, who uses the grief felt at the death of a mother, as a strong and somewhat hyper- bolical illustration of the sorrow which he had benevolently exhibited for the calamities of those w^ho had subsequently repaid him with the grossest malignity. ''But a^ for me, when they were sick, my clothing was sackcloth. I humbled my soul with fasting, and my prayer returned into my own bosom. I behaved myself as though it (he) had been my friend or brother ; I bowed down heavily as one that mourneth for his mother." When a mother is removed, it seems as though we buried wdth her no small j)ortion of our ow^n, and of the family life. Who so Avell acquainted as she, with the numberless little interesting particulars of our childhood ? Who else can tell us all we wish to know of the early days of our brothers and sisters ? Who but she can describe what our father was in his youthful days, and during his first labors and trials ? Her memory was the family record, and she the historian whom all loved to consult. And now she is gone, we have parted, as it w^ere, with whole years of life. There is no one left w^ith whom to o-o lovino^ly 14 THE DEATH OF A MOTHER. over tlie past, searcliing out the forgotten incidents, and renewing former experience. Xo ; henceforward we consign it all to oblivion. And then how poor we feel, when sensible that we are no longer the objects of the pecidiar love of a MOTHER. Ah ! now we begin to prize a mother's afiection, a mother's prayers, counsels, and tears I AVe rise above the gross materialism of our daily pursuits, and bethink us, that love is of more value than o:old ; and that it were better to have the wealth of a mother's pure, generous, disinterested affection, than to possess all the treasures of California. We contrast her undvinor reo:ard with the iiimsv friend- ships of ordinary associates, and realize that it is a sad thing to be left in this cold world without a mother's heart to feel for us. And then comes the crowning element of wo, that a MOTHER can never be replaced, that we have met vdih a loss which can never be made good. When parents part with a child, though the pang be severe, "there is the knowledore that other children remain to cheer their home, or that God may send a like precious gift in its place. When the young man parts from his chosen companion, and with mitold anguish lays the precious body in the tomb, though he seems to bury the hopes of life, we know that time will assuage grief, and that another gentle soul, frill of THE DEATH OF A irOTIIEK. 15 syiiipatliy and love, may become one with liis own, and be to him all that is implied in the precious name of wife. But we can have only one mother. The tie is a blood tie, peculiar and alone. We can be born into the w^orld but once, and of all the loving hearts of womankind that throng the earth, but one can know and feel that we are her offspring. Hence we grieve with special sorrow, when Death snatches away what earthly life can never replace. We say to ourselves, again and again, as we strive to realize the sad event, " Can it be that we have no mother ? that that sacred word can never be addressed again to one who shall sustain the endeared relati - i^ /,?7v -■ ■ )S^ 'i ^fit^s: iX J^\ ■ 'J.. \ ^,i^> ,^'/S'- '