Such is the nature, such the constancy of a mother’s love. It begins before birth, and continues after death:
“There are spun
Around the heart such tender ties,
That our own children, to our eyes,
Are dearer than the sun.”
There are four forms in which this love is peculiarly conspicuous: when,
1st The child is criminal;
2nd The child is sick;
3rd The child is dying;
4th The child is dead.