Edgefield advertiser. [volume] (Edgefield, S.C.) 1836-current, 1856-07-09


a tear, even though her own children had
none to shed.
"She was good mother in her day, and
toiled hard to bring US all up--she was no
comfort to herself, and 4 burden to every
body elsew! These cruel, heartless words
rang in our ears as we saw the coffin borne
up the aisle. The bell tolled long and loud,
until its iron tongue had chronicled the years
of the toil.worn mother. One -two-three
-four--fve. How clearly and almost
merrly each stroke told of her once peace.
full slumber in her mothers bosom, and of
her seat at nightfall on her weary fathers
knees. Six-seveu-eight-.nine-.te rang
out the tale of her sports upon the green.
sward, in the meadow and by the brook.
Eleveu-twelve. .-thirteen--fourteen.-fi(teen,
spoke more gravely of school.days, and little
household joys and cares. Six:een-seven:
teeu-eighteen, sounded out the enraptured
visions Of madenhood, and the dream of
early love. Nineteen brought before us the
happy bride. Twenty spoke of the young
mother whose heart 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 womanhood-
of the love and cares, and hopes, and fears
and tolls through which she passed during
these long years, till fifty rang out harsh and
loud. From that to sixty each stroke told
of the wartl.hearted mother and grand:
mother, living over again her own joys and
sorrows in those of her children and chill
dren's children. Every family of all the
group wanted grandmother then, and the
only strife was who should secure the prize !;
but bark the bell tolls on !--Seventy-.seven.
-three-four. She begins to
grow feeble, requires some care, is not al
ways perfectly patient or satisfied; she goes
from one chld's house to another, so that no
one place seems like home. She murmurs
in plaintive tones, and after all her toll and
WEAKNESS, it is hard she cannot be allowed
home 10 die in; that she must be sent,
rather than invited, from house to house.
Eighty-eighty- ne-two-three--four-.a .ah,
she is now a second child-now "she has
outliyed her usefulness, she has now ceased
to be comfort to herself or anybody;" that
is, she has ceased to be profitable to,her
earth.craviug and money,grasping children.
Now sounds out, reverberating through
our lovely forest, and ,echoing back from
our 8" hill Of the dead" Eighty.nine! there
she now lies in the coffin. cold and stilI-:she
makes mo trouble now, demands no soft
words, no tender. little Offices. A look Of
patient endurance, we iancied also an .ex.:
preston of grief for unrequted love, sat on
her marble features Her children were
there, clad in weeds of woe, and in an irony
we remembered the strong mans words,
She was good mother in her day"
When the bell ceased tollug, the strange
minister rose in the pulpit. His form was
very erect, and his voice strong, but his hair
was silvery white. He read several passa.
ges of Scripture expressive of Gods COM
passion to feeble man, and especially Of his
tenderness when gray hairs are on him, and
his strength failelb. fle then made some
touching remarks on human fraity, and Of
dependence on God, urging all present to
make their peace with their master while in
health, that they might claim his promises
when heart and flesh should fail them.
F." Then" he said, "the eternal God shall be
the everlasting arms" Leaning over the
desk, and gazing intently on the coftined
form before him, he then said reverently,
"From little child have honored the
aged but never till gray hairs covered my
own head, did know truly how much love
and sympathy this class have right to de:
nand of their fellow-creatures. Now feel
it. "Our MOTHER" he added most ten
derly, who now lies in death before us,
was stranger to me, as are all her descen-
dauts. All know of her is what her son
has told me to.day-that she was brought
to this town from afar, sixty.nine years ago,
a happy bride-that here she passed most
of her life, toiing as only mothers ever have
strength TO toll, until she had reared large
family of sons and daughters that she left
her home here, clad in the weeds Of widow.
hood, 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
and her care, know how well you have re.
Quilted her. God forbid that conscience
should accuse any Of you of ingratitude or
mu; muring. on account of the care she has
been to you of late. When you go back to
your homes, be careful of your words and
your example before your own children, for
the fruit Of your OWL doing you will surely
reap from them when you yourselves totter
on the brink of the grave | eDtreat YOU as
friend, as one who has himself entered the
"evening Of life," that you may never say,
in the presence Of your families nor of hea.
ven, "Our mother has outlived her useful.
s-she was burden to u.s." Never,
never; a mother cannot live so long as that |!
No; when she can no longer labor for her
children, nor yet care for herself, she can
fall like precious weight on their bosoms,
and call forth by her heI Iplessnees all The no.
BILE, generous feelings Of their natures.
"Adieu, then, poor toil.worn mother
there are no more sleepless nights, no more
days of pain for thee. Undying vigor and
everlasting usefulness are part OF the inheri.
tancc Of the redeemed. Feeble as thou vert
on earth, thou wilt be no burden on the
bosom of Infinite Love but there shalt thou
find thy longed for rest, and receive glorious
sympathy from Jesus and his ransomed
fold"
WOMEN endure pain, poverty and the Sc.
verest misfortune with more fortitude than
men, but melt at the first harsh wcrdc from