Those Flowers Never Fade [pp. 284]

MATERNAL AFFECTION..
Indians. It was, indeed, a time to be remembereda season of refreshing from the presence of the
Lord. On Monday, the Lord's supper was administered, and forty-seven Indians, adults and children,
were baptized. Some of the adults had experienced
religion previous to the camp meeting, under the
labors of the missionary. And on this day the
Indians formed on the ground in a procession,
marched round and parted with the whites and
with one another by shaking hands. It was an
affecting scene. The hearts of all literally ran together. It seemed painful to leave the sacred place;
but, thank God, while sitting together in heavenly
places, in Christ Jesus, and banqueting on angelical
cheer, their hearts had become one, and they left
the encampment full of light, and life, and love;
and, doubtless, as they roam through our northern
wilds, they will spread the common Savior's name.
W. M.
Original.
MATERNAL AFFECTION.
AFFECTION, though a tender plant, roots deeply
and makes itself manifest. Though the blooming
rose may be hidden from mortal gaze, and covered
with leaves, its fragrance will find some secret
avenue through which to scent the evening air-so
affection will perfume the atmosphere in which it
lives. As the carnation loses none of its beauty
under the window of the humble cottage, so affection blooms as luxuriantly in the meanest cabin as
in the lordliest mansion. It is a plant that does
not root in the surface of the soul, but digs deep into
the heart. Though in some hearts it finds more
congenial soil than in others, yet it is indigenous in
all, and should be diligently cultivated wherever
found.
It is generally influenced somewhat by outward
circumstances: for instance, the love of a friend
dries up without reciprocity; but that natural affection exercised by a mother toward her child, gushes
forth even when it meets with no return. It is
deeper, stronger, purer, than any other. A moth.
er's affection has no semblance on earth. It can
neither be measured, fathomed, nor illustrated.
A mother's love! It is a theme of centuries.
We are glad, for the honor of mankind, it is so. It
is one of the first on which the youthful mind
should be taught to linger. Teach the infant first
to think of the love of God, and next the love of
mother; and cold will be the heart of that child
that will not, in riper years, prize it.
It has been said by an eloquent author, "The
love which the father, the brother, or the sister
bears, seems to be secondary, and the result of
habit and association. But that which glows early
and late —that which never tires or decays, in the
bosom of the mother, seems innate-a part of her
very being. In such cases as that presented to Solomon, it speaks out in nature's own voice." Why,
it may be asked, has the Almighty planted this
deep, this unquenchable, inexpressible love, in a mother's heart? Can there have been no design in it?
Does Omnipotence do aught in vain? It is to the
care of the mother he has intrusted an immortal
mind, that may act on other minds, and influence
their eternal destiny; a gem for her to polish and
prepare to shine in eternal light. Then, mothers,
forget not your duty. When you feel for your child
the warm gushings of affection, remember God has
placed it there, to enable you to discharge the important trust committed to you-to sustain your
fainting head as it hangs over the cradle of affliction; to give keenness to that eye which watches
the erring footsteps of wayward youth, and fire to
those lips which utter a mother's prayer. C.
THOSE FLOWERS NEVER FADE.
"0 GoD! how glorious must the mansion be,
Where thy redeemed shall rest with thee!"
A LADY, who had buried a very dear and lovely
sister, dreamed one night that her sister was with
her, and, as they had been wont when girls, they
left home with their baskets on their arms, to seek
in the fields and woods, the beautiful wild flowers.
While filling their baskets, the lady, calling the
attention of her sister to a spot all covered with
lovely flowers, said to her, "O0, sister, how beautiful are these; did you ever see any equal to them
before?" "O0, yes," said the sister, with a most
heavenly smile, "where I dwell, flowers, a thousand-fold more lovely, for ever bloom."
"0, then," said the lady, "let me return with
you, dear sister, and behold those richer flowers."
"Not yet," the sister answered. "Stay awhile
and gather these; it is the Master's will. Those
flowers never fade; they will be as fresh and fragrant
whenever you conime, as now."
The lady turned away to weep, and when she
looked again, the heavenly visitant had departed.
A comforting and, at the same time, instructive
moral, has this sweet dream.
Parent! some of the most lovely plants that for
a moment blossomed, and shed their fragrance in
the domestic nursery, have been transplanted; while
others still remain behind. Thy tearful eye often
turns upward, toward "the garden of the Lord,"
where they now bloom in beauty. Those flowers
never fade, while these on earth may be blighted.
With tears and prayers, cultivate awhile these, that
are still below, and then thou shalt be permitted to
enjoy for ever, those that early passed from earth;
and those, also, that now bud and blossom at your
fect.-Sunday School Teacher.
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