The Emporia news. [volume] (Emporia, Kan.) 1859-1881, 1864-04-16
HEROISM.

We extract the following paragraphs from
a recent sermon of Henry Ward Beecher,
published in the Independent. They are
full of life and truth
Common life, then, is true and perfect
sphere for heroism. There are in The life
of every family things that are magnificent
and worthy of poetry and history, and that
will be ehaunted in the other life. There
are things in the experience of every house
hold that are. essentially, heroic, connected
with the conduct of parents toward their
children, and of the children toward their
parents, and of the children toward each
other. They are not famous, they are not
Wide-sphered; but, if you measure hero
ism by the moral quality, by the motive,
you will find cradle side heroism, and bed
side heroism, heroisms of distress and pow
erty, which are as eminent as any heFo;sm
that there ever was on the battle field, or in
the council chamber. Yes, and ten thous-
and times more so, because they are accom-
panied with less excitements and less pros
poets of sympathy and remuneration. For,
in the dull night, alone-oh, alone at the
longest striking of the clock, alone; at its
shortest stroke, alone at its double stroke,
alone; at three and four IN the morning,
alone; with sick babe, and no one to sue
cor, sits the child of fortune, cultured, ex-
quisite in taste, and sensitive in every NOR
al feeling, as an angel. At last, the longed-
for sound, now hated, of the footsteps OF
him for whom she waits, comes to her ear
and some miserable, dissipated creature
wakes the night and he comes, rude, aud
red, and round, stumbling into the room ;
and she, with every feeling narrowed, with
every taste offended, with her whole nature
outraged, revolts. Yet, it was the first love,
it was the only love, it was the husband OF
her youth, it was hers and she turns to
forget her revolving and her shrinking, to
meet him, to quiet him, to lead him to his
disgraceful bed, to put him to sleep, to kneel
while he shores in his drunken slumber,
and, amid tears, and prayers, and heart
breaking, and anguish, like another angel
Of God to him, to implore mercy for him.
And not her own mother knows it ; not her
own father knows it; no companion knows
it. With her own life she is hiding his de-
formity. Now, do you tell me that there
is herojsm like that on battle-felds, or in
council-chambers ? And society is full OF
heroes of love and domestic fidelity. Thou
sands of them are unknown on EARTH They
march in ranks and battallions, so that we
speak of them in nouns of multitude. as
drunkards' wives. All those that, under
certain circumstances, lift themselves up
above the ordinary line of human conduct,
are heroic. And God waits for them, and
heaven is homesick for them. Oh, how
they will shine there Perchance, as,
going through the street, meek and patient,
their dress growing more and more rusty,
you smile pityingly, and say, They are
poor d.runkards' wives: they were promis-
ing once, but they have gone down, down,
down; and now they are nowhere beg
your pardon, they have not gone down.
They have been going up. And when you
rise, with all your wealth, and learning, and
genius. and stand in heaven, having escaped
domination so as by fire, you may stand low
est, and see them as far above you as the
stars tonight are above your heads. For
the last shall be first, and the lowest shall
be highest"