American union. [volume] (Morgantown, Va. [W. Va.]) 1855-1859, 1856-08-09

hear'iess words rang in our ears as we
saw the coffin borne up the aisle. The
bell t"iled long and loud. until its iron
tongue had chronieled the years Of tho
toil.worn mother. Oue-two-three
--four-tive. How clearly and almost
meuily each stroke told of her once
ptacoful slumber in her mother s bosom
and OF her seat at nighrtall on the weary
fathers knees. SiX--seven-eight-
nineteen rang outthe tale Of her sports
| upon the green sward in the meadow, and
10y the brook. Elevcn--twelve-
teen - acknowledgements more
gravoly of school days and little house
hold joys and cares. Sixteen--seven-
leen-eighteen sounded out the enrap-
tnred visions Of motherhood, and the
dream ofearly love. Nineteen brought
us tho happy bride. Twenty spoke of
the young mother. whose hoart was full
to Bursting with the new-strung love
which God had awakened in her bosom.
And then stroke after stroke told of her
early wumanh0od--o(t the love and ca, es
aud hopes and fcars and tells through
which she passed during these long
years. till Fifty rang ont harsh and loud.
From that to sixty each stroke told
of tho warm-hearted mother and grand
mother, living over again her own Joys
and sorrows in those Of her children
and children's children. Every family
OF all the group wanted grandmother
then, aud the only strife was who would
secure the p ize; but bark tho bell tolls
on! Seventy seventy -one--lwo-,hrec
four. She begins to grow feeble, re-
! qnireS some care, is not always perfect
Iy patient or satisfied; she goes from
one child's house to another, so that no
one place seems like home. She MUIR
murs in plaintivo tones, and after all her
toll and WEAKNESS, it is hard she cannot
he allowed home to die in that she
| must be sent rather than invited from
house to house. Eighty lightly. one
-three-four-ah, she is now sec
ond child; now, "she has out.lived her
usefulness, she has now ceased To be a
comfort TO herself or nybody;' that is
! she has ceased to be profitable to her
/ earth-cravlng and money grasping chill
| drcn.
Now sounds out ,rcverberariDg through
! our lovely forest, and cch"ing back from
our hill Of the dead" ErGury NINE !;
! there she now lies in the coffin, cold
and still-she makes no trouble now,
! demands no love, no soft words, no ten
der little Offices. A look Of patient en-
durnnce, we faucied also an expl ession
OF grief for unrequitcd love, sat on her
| marble features. Her children were
there clad in weeds'of woe, and in irony
we remembered the strong mans words
"Shc was a good mother in her day.
When tho bell ceased tolling, the
strange minister rose in the pulpit
His form was very erect, and his voice
strong, but his hair was silvcry white
/ He read several passages of scripture
expressive of Gods compassion TO fee.
bic man, and especially of his tender.
ness when gray hairs were upon him,
and his strength faileth. He then mado
some touching remarks, on human frail.
| ~, and OF depeudance on God, urging
all present 10 make their peace with
their Master while in health that they
might claim his promises when heart
and flesh should fail them. "Then, The
said "the eternal God shall be Thy re.
! fugc, aud beneath ltee shall be the ev-
crlasting AIMS" Leaning over tho
| desk, and gazing intently on the coffin.
ed form before him, he then said rever-
eutly. "From little child, have hon
"red the aged; but never till grey hairs
covered my own head, did know truly
how much love and sympathy this class
| has right To demand of their fellow.
creatures. Now f o! it. Our mother
she added most ienderly, "who now
lies in death before us, was a stranger
to me, as are all these, her descendants.
All know Of her is what her son has
told me 10 day-lhat she was brought
! to this town from afar, sixty nine years
ego, happy brido-,hat here sho has
passed most Of her life, t6iIing as only
mothers over have strength to toll, I'M
I'll she reared a large family of sons and
daug she lett her home hoie,
clad in tho weeds of widowhood, to
dwell among her children; and that
till health and vigor left her, she lived
for you, her descendants.
You. who together, have shared her
love apd her care, know how we'll you
have rcquited her. God forbid that
conscience should accuse any Of you Of
ingratitudo or murmuring, on account Of
the care she has been to you ofla'c.-
When you go back TO your homes, be
careful your words and your example
before yonr own children, for tho fruit
Of your own doing you will surely reap
from them when you yourseIftouer or
the brink Of tho grave. entreat you
as lend, as one who has himself en-.
tered the 'evening Of life, THAT you may
never say, in the presence of your fam.
lilies nor Of heaven, "Our mother has
oulived her usefulness. She was bur-
den to u.s. Never, never! A mother
cannot 1.-Two so long as that! No; when
shp can no lonppr labor far bor chill