THE WIDOW AND HER SON.
{"newspaper_name": "The Wilmingtonian, and Delaware register.", "edition": "01", "page": "p1", "byline": "Dr WASHINGTON IRvINa."}
Bf WASHINGTON IRVING.


During my residence in the country, !
used frequently to attend at the old vii
lage church, which stood in a country tlled
with ancient families, and contained within
its cold and silent aisies, the congregated
dust of many noble generations. Its shad-
owy aisles, its mouldering monuments, its
dark oaken panneling, all reverend with the
gloom of departed years, seemed to fit it
for the haunt of solemn meditation. A Sum-
day, too, in the country, is so holy in its re-


pose ; such pensive quiet reigns over the
face of nature, that every restless passion
| is charmed down, and we feel all the natural


religion of the soul gently springing up with
in US:
! "Sweet day, so pure, so calm, so bright,
| The bridal ofthe earth and sky!-"


I do not pretend to be what is called de-


vout man; but there are feelings that visit


me in a country church, amid the beautiful


serenity of nature, which | experience no


where else; and if not more religious,


think am better man on Sunday, than on


any other day of the seven


/ But in this church felt myself continual
ly thrown back upon the world, by the fri


gidity and pomp of the poor worms around
me. The only being that seemed thorough


ly to feel the humble and p'ostrate piety OF


ID true Christian, was poor decrepit old


woman, bending under the weight OF years
and infirmities She bore the traces OF
something better than abject poverty


The lingerings Of decent pride were visible
in her appearance. Her dress, rnousi. hum


Bile in the extreme, was scrupulously clean,


Some trivial respect, too, had been awarded


her, for she did noc take her seat among the


village poor, but sat alone on the steps OF


the altar. She seemed to have survived all


love, all friendship, all society; and to have


nothing left her but the hope of heaven.
When saw her fecbly rising and bending
{ her aged form in overwhelmingly coming


her prayer-book, which her palsied hand
and falling eyes would not permit her to
read. but which she evidently knew by
heart--I felt persuaded that the faltering
. voice of this poor woman arose to Heaven
, far before the responses of the clerk, the
swell of the organ or the chanting OF the
choir.


am fond of lettering about country
churches, and this was SO delightfully."- sltu-
t ated. that it frequently attracted me. l
, stood OH knoll, round which stream
made beautiful bend, and then wound ITS
way through long reach OF meadow scene
, ry. The church was surrounded oy yeW
$ trees, which seemed almost coeval with IT.


self. It's tan SoltiC SPiiC Shos up hE"N'y
from among them, with rocks and crows
; generally wheeling about them. was seat
, ed there one still, sunny morning, watching


two labourers who were digging grave
, 'rhev had chosen one of the most remote
! and neglected corners of the church yard /;
) where. from the number of nameless graves
Z around, it would appear that the INDECENT


friendless were huddled into the earth.
!. was told that the new-made grave was tor
/. the only son of poor widow


While was meditating on the distinctlons
y of worldly rank, which extended thus down
n into the very dust, the toll OF the bell an
: nounced the approach ofthe funeral. 1ney
| were the obsequies of poverty, with winch
+ pride had nothing to do. A coffin OF the


plainest materials, without pail or other CO.
' vering. was borne by some Of the villagers.
! The sexton walked before with an air OF cold
s Indifference There were no mock mourn
v ers in the trappings of wo; but there was
3 one real mourner who feebly tottered alter
# the corpse 1t was the aged mother OF the
II deceased--the poor old woman whom hafl
:. seen seated OH the steps OF the altar. ohs
is was supported by an humble friend. who
n was endeavoring to comfort her. A few OF


the neighbouriug poor had joined the tram,
N and some children fthe village were run
If ming hand in hand, now shouting with un-
!. thinking mirth, and now pausing to gaze,
e with childish curiosity, on the si1ef OF the
D. mourner.


1t AS the funeral train approached the grave
ID the parson is sued from the church porch
II arrayed in the surphce, with prayer-beob
of in hand, and attended by the clerk. The
IS service, however, was a-mere act OF charf
,r ty. The deceased had been destitute, ane
st the survivor was pennyless. 1t was shut
,e fled through, therefore, in form, but coldiy
I'd and unfeelingly. The well-fed priest moved
s. but few steps from tine church-door; hi
es voice could scarcely be hoard at the grave
&c and never did I hear the funeral service
SO that sublime and touching ceremony, turn
b. ed into such frigid mummery OF werds'
sni I anproached the grave. The coffin wa
ut placed on the ground. On it were inscrlbe'
se the name and age of the deceased" Geergs