Motherly Love

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That grand old man of English statesmanship, William Gladstone, one day arose in Parliament and solemnly announced that he had a sad statement to make. “Princess Alice is dead,” said he; “and love did it.” Her boy was ill with diphtheria and near to death. The physician had cautioned her not to come close enough to the child to breathe his breath. But the little fellow looked up from his bed, reached out his tiny arms, and said feebly, “Mamma, please come and kiss me.” And she did it, in spite of warning, and at the cost of her own life.

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