Military life in Italy : sketches - Societa italiana di storia militare

lips on her forehead, murmured smiling
:
"
mother !
THE MOTHER. 57
And I, standing there with my back against
"
My poor, dear old
the wall and
my arms crossed on my breast, thought :
" Here is a man who adores his mother ! He cannot help
being a good, respectful, well-disciplined soldier, full of amour
propre and courage.
Yes, courage too, because the souls which
feel deeply and strongly can never be cowardly.
That soldier
there, taken on to the battle-field, would allow himself to be
killed without fear, and he would die with the name of his
mother upon his lips. Teach him what his country is ;
make
him understand that the country
is a hundred thousand mothers
and a hundred thousand families like his own, and he will
his country with enthusiasm. But one must begin
love
with the
mother. Oh ! if we could discover the germ of all the lovely
affections and all the honest and generous actions of which we
are proud, we should almost always discover them in the heart
of our mothers. How many medals of military valor ought to
gleam on the breasts of the mothers instead of the sons ! and
how many wreaths of laurel ought to rest upon an old, bald
head instead of upon the brown one of youth Oh, mothers,
!
you should never die You should remain at the side of !
your
sons, and accompany them to the end of the journey
of life.
Before you, even when we are old, we would always be children,
and love you ever with the same love. Instead, you leave us
alone . . . oh no ! no ! not alone ; your sweet memory remains
with us, your dear image is always before our eyes, your
loving counsels are ever present to the spirit, and this is
enough.
Every time that a weariness of life assails us, and some hard
disillusion raises in our hearts a feeling of hatred and aversion