Weekly Trinity journal., 1873-08-16
THE WORTH OF OLD AGE.

try, asking for the minister" When
informed that he was out of town he
seemed disappointed and anxious. Or
being questioned as to his business, he
replied L have lost my mother, and as
this place used to be her home, and my
father lies here, we have come to lay her
beside him."
Our hearts rose in sympathy, and we
said" Yon have met with great loss" +"
"Well, yes" replied the strong man
with hesitancy. "A mother is great
loss in general but our mother had out
lived her usefulness. She was in her
second childhood, and her mind had be-
come as weak as her body, so that she
was no comfort to herself and burden
to everybody. There were seven of US
sons and daughters, and as we could moi
find anybody who was willing to board
her, we agreed to keep her among US q
year about. But I've had more than my
share of her, for she was too feeble to be
moved when my time was out, and that
was three months before her death. But
then she was good mother in her day,
and toiled very hard to bring us all up"
Without looking at the face of the
heartless man, we directed him to the
house Of neighboring pastor, and re-
turned to the nursery. We gazed at the
merry little faces which smiled or grew
sad in imitation of ours-those little ones
to whose ear no word is half so sweet as
''mother"-and we wondered if that day
would ever come when they would ever
say Of us "She has outlived her use
fulness she is no comfort to herself, and
a burden to everybody !" and we hoped
that before such day would dawn, We
might be taken to our rest. Rather let
us die while our hearts are 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
funeral, we went to the sanctuary to pay
our tribute of respect for the aged stran-
ger, for we felt that we could give her
memory tear, even though her own
children had none to shed.
"She was good mother in her day
and toiled hard to bring us up; she was
no comfort to herself, and burden to
everybody else"
These cruel heartless words rung in
hn
the aisle. The bell tolled long and loud,
until its iron tongue had chronicled the
years of the toilworn mother. One-two
three four-fve. How clearly, and
almost merrily, each stroke told of her
once peaceful slumber in her mothers
bosom, and Of her seat at nightfall on
her weary fathers knee. Six-seven-
eight-nine-ten, rang out the story Of
her sports upon the greensward in the
meadow and by the brook. Eleven
twelve-thirteen- fifteen, spoke
more gravely of school days, and little
household joys and cares. Sixteen-sev-
enteen-eighte sounded out the enrap-
tured visions Of maidenhood and the
dream of early love. Nineteen brought
the happy bride. Twenty spoke of the
young mother, whose heart was full to
bursting with the new-sprung 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 warm
hearted mother and grandmother, living
over again her own joys and sorrows in
those of her children and her children's
children. Every family Of all the group
wanted grandmother then, and the only
strife was who should secure the price,
But bark the bell tolls on Seventy
one-two-three-four. She begins 10
grow feeble, requires some care, is not al
ways perfectly patient or satisfied she
goes from one child's house to another's,
SO that no one place seems like home
She murmurs in plaintive tones, and af-
ter all her toll and WEAKNESS it is hard
she cannot be allowed homo to die in; (;
that she must be sent rather than invit-
ed, from house to house. Eighty-eighty-
one-two-three-four. All now she is
second child-now "she has outlived
her usefulness, she has ceased TO be a
comfort to herself or anybody that is,
she has ceased to be profitable to her:earth-
craving and money -grasping children.
Now sounds out, reverberating thro'
our lonely forest, and echoing back from
the chill Of the dead" eighty
There she now lies in the coffin, cold and
still she makes no trouble now, de-
mands no love, no soft words, no tender
little offices. A look of patient endur-
ance, we fancied also an expression Of
grief for unrequited love, sat on her mar
BILE 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 min
istar rose in his pulpit. His form was
very erect, his voice strong, but his hair
silvery white. He read several passages
of Scripture expressive Of Gods compass
sion to feeble man, and especially OF his
tenderness when gray hairs are on him
and his strength failing. He then made
some touching remarks on human frailty
and of dependence on God, urging all
LII NTH Ahoi..