Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1871-04-19
" She has Outliycd her Usefulness .

Aud ON my heart with song.
She has 0utliyed her Usefulness"
Not long since good looking man in mid
die life came to our door asking for " the
minister" When informed that he was out
Of town he seemed disappointed and anxious
On being questioned as to his business, he re-
piled " have lost my mother, and as this
place used to be her home, and as my father
lies here, We have come to lay her beside
him"
Our heart rose in sympathy, and we said
" You have met with great loss"
Well-yes," replied the strong man, with
some hesitancy, "a mother is great loss in
general but our mother had outlived her
usefulness. She was in her second childhood,
and her mind had grown as weak as her body,
so that she was no comfort to herself, and was
a burden to everybody. There were seven of
us sons and daughters; and as we could not
find any one who would board her, we agreed
to keep her among us year about. But |
have had more than my share of her, for she
was too feeble to be moved about when my
time was out and that was more than three
months before her death. But then she was
good mother in her day and toiled very
hard to bring US up"
Without looking at the face Of the heart
less man. we directed him to the house Of a
ueighboring pastor, and returned to our nur-
sery. We gazed on the merry little faces
which smiled or grew sad in imitation of ours
those little ones to whose ear no word in our
language is half so sweet as mother" and
we wondered if that day could ever come
when they would say of US, She has out
lived her usefulness-she is no comfort to
herself and burden to everybody else "
and We hoped that before such day would
dawn we might be taken to our rest. God
forbid that we should outive the love of our
children Rather let us die while our hearts
are a part of their own, that our grave may
be watered with their tears and our love
linked with their hopes of heaven
When the bell tolled for the mothers bu-
rial we went to the sanctuary to pay our only
token Of respect to the aged stranger for
we felt that we could give her memory tear,
even though her own children had none to
she'd
She was a good mother in her day, and
toiled hard to bring us all up-she was no
comfort to herself and a burden to everybody
else :, " These cruel hcartless words rune in
our ears as we saw the coffin borne up the
aisle. The bell tolled long and loud, until its
iron tongue had chronieled the years of the
toi-worn mother One-two-three-f
five. How clearly and almost merrily each
stroke told Of her once peaceful slumber in
her mothers bosom, and of her seat at night
fall on her weary fathers knees. Six-.sev-
eight-nine- -ten-rang out the tale of
her sports upon the greensward, in the mead
ow and beside the brook Eleven-twelve-
thirteen iourteen-spoke more gravely of
school-days and little household Joys and cares.
Sixteen-Seventeen--e eighteen-sounded out
the enraptured visions of maidenhood and the
dream of early love. Nineteen brought be-
fore us the happy bride. Twenty spoke of
the happy mother, whose heart was full to
bursting Of the new, strong love which God
had awakened in her bosom. And then stroke
after stroke told of her early womanhood-o
the loves, 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
warm-hearted mother and grandmother, Ev.
ing over again her own joys and sorrows in
those Of her children and ehildren's children.
Every family Of all the group wanted
grandmother then, and the only strife was
who should secure the prize; but, hark, the
bell tolls on Seventy-seyenty- -one-two
-three--iour. She begins to grow feeble,
requires some care, is not always perfectly
patient and satisfied she goes from one
chid's house to another, so that no one place
seems like home. She murmurs in plaintiye
tones, and after all her tolls and WEAKNESS
il is hard she cannot be allowed q home TO
die in that she must be sent rather than in
vited from house to house. Eighty-eighty-
one-two-three--four. All, she is now
second child-now &C she has outlived her
usefulness; she has now ceased to be COM
fort to herself or anybody" that is, she has
ceased to be profitable to her earth.craving
and money-grasping children.
Now sounds out, reverberating through our
lovely forest, and eehoing back from our " hill
of the dead" eighty-nine There she lies
now in the coffin, cold and still-she makes
no trouble now, demands no love, no soft
words, no tender little offices. A look of
patient endurance--we farcied also an ex-
preston Of grief for unrequitted love--sat on
her marble features. Her children were
there clad in weeds of woe, and in irony we
remembered the strong mans words, " She
was good mother in her day."
When the bell ceased tolling 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 passages
of Scripture expressive of Gods compassion
to feeble man, aud especially of his tender.
ness when gray hairs are on him, and his
strength faileth. He then made some touch
ing remarks on human fraility, and of depen-
dence 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 faileth them "Then," he
said, 81 the eternal God shall be thy refuge
and beneath thee shall be the everlasting arms.
Leaning over the desk, and gazing intently
on the coffned form before him, he then said
reyerently, From little child | have hon
ored the aged but never till gray hair COW
cred my own head did | know truly how
much love and sympathy this class have
right to demand Of their fellow creatures.
Now | feel it. Our mother" he added most
tenderly, "who now lies in death before us,
was a stranger to me, as are all of these her
descendants. 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-tha here she has passed most
of her life, toiling, as only mothers ever have
strength to toll, until she had reared large
family of sons and daughters-th that she lett
her home here clad in the weeds of widow.