The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1893-08-21

tory of the Injuries of life as among ihe
iudispCnsa blcs and sou oupht not to de-
preciate this woman OF the text, who.
when offered kingiy prcfermont. M
spondcd. II dwell among mY own people.
Yea. this woman OF the text was great
in her piety Faith In God. and she was
not ashamed 20 talk about 10 before IDOL
aters All. woman viii never appreciate
what she owes % Christianity until she
knows and sees the degradation of her
sex under Paganism and Mohammedan-
ism. Her very birth considered mis-
fortune Sold like cattle in the shambles
Slave of all work, and at last her body
fuel for the funeral pYre Of her husband.
Above the shrek Of the fire worshipers
in India and above the rumblngs Of the
juggernauts, ! hear the mlllion-volced
groan Of wronged. insulted. broken
| hearted, down-Jrodden woman. Her
tears have fallen in the Nile and Tigris
and the La Plata and on the steppes Of
| Tartary. She has been dishOnored in
Turkish garden and Persian palace and
Spanish Alhambra. Her little ones nave
been sacrificed in the Ganges. There is
not a grOan, or dungeon, or an island, or
a mountain, or q river. or a lake. or a sea
| but could tell story Of the outrages
heaped upon her.
But thanks to God, this glorious Chris
| tianity comes forth, and all the chains of
this vassalage are snapped, and she rises
up from ignomity TO exalted sphere, and
| becomes the affectiOnate daughter, the
gentle wife, the honored mother, the
useful Christian Oh, if Christianity has
done so much for woman, surely woman
will become its most ardent advocate and
its sublimest exemplificatiOn.
When / come to speak of wOmanly in
fuence. my mind always wanders off TO
one model-the aged one who, twenty
seven years ago, we put away for the
10
ago, and Just before their marriage day,
my father and mother stood up in the old
Westinghouse al SOmerville, New Jersey,
and took upon them the vows of the
Christian. Through long life of vicissi-
tude she lived harmlessly and usefully
and came TO her end in peace. No child
of want ever came to her door and was
turned empty away. No one in sorrow
came to her but was comfOrted. No one
asked her the way to be saved but she
pointed him to the Cross. When the
angel of life came to a neighbours dwelling
she was there to rejoice at the starting OF
another immortal spirit. When the angel
of death came TO neigh boris dwelling she
was there to robe the departed for the
burial
We had OTTER heard her, when leading
family prayers in the absence of my
father, say: 80, Lord, I ask not for my
children wealth and honor, but | do ask
that they may all be subjects of thy com
forting grace!" Her eleven children
brought into the kingdom of God, she had
but one more wish, and that was that she
might see her long-absent missionary
son and when the ship from China an
chored In New York harbor, and the
long-absent one passed over the threshold
of his paternal home, she said: "NOw,
Lord, lettest thou thy servant depart in
peace for mine eyes have seen thy sal
Walton" The prayer was soon answered.
1t was an autumnal day when we gath
cred from afar and found only the house
from which the soul had fed forever. She
looked very natural the hands very much
as when they were employed in kindness
for her children Whatever else we for
get, we never forget the look of mothers
hands. AS we stood there by the casket,
we could not help but say: Don't she
| look beautiful" 1t was a cloudless day
when, with heavy hearts, we carried her
out to the last resting place. The with
cred leaves crumbled under hoof and
wheel as we passed, and the sun shone on
the Raritan river until it looked like fire;
but more calm and beautiful and radiant
was the setting sun of that aged pilgrims
life. No more toll, no more tears, no
more sickness, no more death. Dear
motherl Beautiful mother!'
Sweet is the slumber beneath the sod,
While the pure spirit rests with God
! Ineed not go back and show you Zeno-
| bia, Semiramis, or Isabella, or even the
woman of the text, as wonders of wom-
| anly excellence or greatness, when | in
this moment point to your own picture gal
| lery of memory, and show you the one
face that you remember so well, and
arouse all your holy "reminiscences, and
start you in a new conservation to
God, by the pronunciation of that tender,
beautiful, glorious word, "Mother!
! Mother!"