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THE
AABOYS’ AND GIRLS’-‘hip
WEEKLY CATHOLIC MAGAZINE.
w. J. CUNNINGHAM, PUBLISHER,
104 SOUTH THIRD STREET.
MARGARET,
: Ion THE ’
J.‘ > A."
;)‘.'f' .t N
1);E1=fi'-:1 of‘ A Mo'I‘HER’S LOVE.“
v v AN ORlGlNAL,.TAl;E.
"1": l ]‘ (Conlinuedfhm our last Number.)
inperious and indo-
mitable ‘ ‘woman !”
exclaimed“ the un-
fortunate’ .Bechart;
“it is not ‘ enough
that you must’ make
me "unhappy; you
‘must ’ consummate
children, ‘my poor
children.’ ” Pride and
weakness, ye‘ have
undone me! In mar-
rying a rich woman,‘
I thought to find l1ap-
.piness; fool that I‘
v was? had I yet to
2.2,; ' ‘ ‘ %learn that happiness
‘ J-.mJrm-4.w,......Ir.1. “ ,
1
, . ,‘ , h is‘ only to be found
with'virtue? I Long, too ‘long, have I been
breathing the pestilential atmosphere-by which
I ‘am rsurroiinded; instead of that -religion
. which was once ‘mine, there is nothing here,
(striking his bosom) nothing but bitterness, and
remorse ! M My God, my God, what hast Then
in store for me in thy anger! Ah, could I yet
-but how. break the chain which binds’ me,
and whose galling pressure daily becomes more
1nsupportable?. Dare I return to the faith of
my childhood? Ah,‘what'will my friends‘
Say? What sneers, what ridicule ! And yet,
shall I leave my children'thus to breathe the
air of "infection. 0 heaven ! listen to the
Prayers which Ludovic has put up in my be-
half;<l1sten to the suppliant voice of‘ her,
whose remorse prevents me from naming, and
ceased to bless me!” ,
‘V],1‘0a"it1 spite of ‘my ingratitude,’ has never,
PHILADELPHIA, SATURDAY, JULY 25, 1846.
the misery: of“ my.
a NO;
This thought which ceased not to weigh so
heavily upon the heart of Bechart, threw at‘
this moment a sombre expression over his
features, revealing the struggles which. was
passing in his soul. V Ilis bitter reflections
were interrupted by the entry of a poor little
suffr “gr being, puny, pale, deformed, who,‘
th ifig himself around his father’s neck,-
s g',s well as his sobs would let him: “My
1.” ,3r has driven me away from her; “my.
brother and sister do not wish to see me; will;
you also reject me?” It was Charles, M. Be-r
chart’s second son. ,-‘He was hated auddes-‘
pised by the whole family, and ill treated by
all the children of,his age, forno "other reason ‘
than because in coming into‘ the world, he had
received noother gift than that of :1 good heart.“
Tlleipioor child was comforted by the affec-
tionate manner i11 which his ‘father received
him. A He dried up his fears, and. in a fondling
manner climbed’ upon M.‘ Bechart’s,. knees.
“My dear child,” said M. Beehart, as he cover-
ed him with caresses; -‘.‘ come frequently to your
father; he is more unhappy than you are, far KW’;
more unhappy; your ‘presence willrdo ‘him
good.” o,.As he said this some-‘tedi:s trickled
down his jeheek, which Charles,‘ weeping in
return, fondly wiped away with his littlqjhand. ;
At length Beehart’s eyes were opened to the"
abyss into which he wals"plunged. He saw
the truth; it flashed upon Lhis view; but how .
strong must be the ray th
heart of which philosophy has frozen up the
life-springs.‘r1Some glimpses‘ of a desire for“
conversion arose in his mind; but it was light
without heat: a frosty moonsl1iue,“(all-ended
in nothing, or worse than nothing, for llIS‘(‘0l'1-
duct only led‘to fresh sources of d1S0l‘d0I‘1l1
his household. The unbeliever ivllile. in the
act of embracing some vain idol i!1.,h,‘5 $9“?!
may whisper to himself: “,‘I can displace 13,
necessary, as'rt3adil)’ as I installed it there;
‘alas! he sees not, till too late, the fatal fallacy
of such reasoning, V .
M. Bechart found that‘ the bondsgwhich he
strove to burst, clutched him -‘more strongly
than ever. ‘ Ilis returning sense of duty was p
t can penetrate? the
