The Indiana State sentinel. [volume] (Indianapolis) 1868-1895, 1894-01-17


answered her yea. She returned answer
to herself: Fave they not sped? Have
they not divided the prey-to every man
a damsel or two, TO Sisera prey OF
divers colors of needlework, of divers
colors of needlework on both sides?' "
She makes no anxious utterance about
the wounded in battle, about the blood
shed, about the dying, about the dead,
about the principles involved in the bat
tie going on-a battle so important that
the stars and the freshets took part, and
the clash of swords was answered by the
most of is the bright colors of the ward
robes to be captured and the needle
work. ITO Sisera prey of divers col
ors-a prey of divers colors of needle
work, of divers colors of needlework on
both sides.
Now, neither Sisera's mother nor any
one else can say too much in eulogy of
the needle. 1t has made more useful
cOnquests than the sword. Pointed at
one end and with an eye at the other.
whether of bone or ivory, as in earliest
time; or of bronze, as in Pliny's time; or
of steel, as in modern time; whether Ia
bOriously fashioned as formerly by one
hand o. as now, when a hundred work
men in a factory are employed to make
the different parts of one needle. it is
an instrument divinely ordered for the
comfort for the life, for the health, for
the adOrnment of the human race. The
eye Of the needle hath seen more domes-
tic comfort and more gladdened poverty
and more Christian service than any
other eye.
The modern sewing machine has in no.
wise abolished the needle, but rather en-
throned it. Thank God for the needle
work from the time when the Lord AL
mighty from the heavens ordered in re-
gard to the embroidered door Of the an
ia hpTn2plP hal al u
hanging for the door of the tent of blue
and purple and scarlet and fine twisted
linen wrought with needlework.' down
to the womanly hands which this win
ter in this tabernacle are presenting for
benevolent purposes their needlework
But there was nothing except vanity and
worldliness and social splash in what
Sisera's mother said about the needle
work she expected her son would bring
home from the battle.
And / am not surprised to find that
Sisera fought one the wrong side, when
his mother at the window Of my text.
in that awful eXigency, had her chief
thought on dry goods achievement and
social display. God only knows how many
homes have been made shipwreck on
the wardrobe. And that mother who
sits at the window watching for vain
glorious triumph Of millinery and fine
colors and domestic pageantry will after
awhile hear as bad news from her chill
dren out in the battle of life as Sisera's
mother heard from the struggle at
Esdraelon.
Mothers struck Down.
But if you still press the question,
Where's MOTHER" L will tell you where
she is not, though once she was there.
Some of you started with her likeness in
your face and her principles in your
soul But you have cast her out. That
was an awful thing for you to do. but
you have done it. That hard, grinding,
disSipated look you never got from her.
If you had seen anyone strike her, YOU
would have struck him down without
much care whether the blow was just
sufficient or fatal; but. my boy, you have
struck her down-struck her innocence
from your face and struck her princi-
pies from your soul
You struck her down. The tent pin
that Jael drove three times into the
skull Of Sisera was not so cruel as the
stab you have made more than three
times through your mothers heart. But
she is waiting yet. for mothers are slow
TO give up their boys-waiting at some
window il may be a window on earth
or at the some window in heaven. All
others may cast you off. Your wife may
seek a divorce and have no more
patience with you. Your father may dis
inherit you and say, Let him never
again darken the door OF our house"
But there are two persons who do not
give you up-GOd and mother
How many disappointed mothers wait
ing at tie window Perhaps the panes
of the window are not great glass plate
bevel edged and lowered over by ex-
quisite lambrequin, but the window IS
made Of small panes, | would say six or
eight of them, in summer wreathed with
trailing vine. and in winter pictured
by the Raphaels of the frost. a real
country window. The mother sits there
knitting or busy with her needle on
homely repairs, when she looks up and
sees coming across the bridge of the
meadow brook stranger who dismounts
in front of the window.
He lifts and drops the heavy knocker
OF the farm house door. Come ini'' is
the response. He gives his name and
says. II have come on a sad errand."
There is nothing the matter of my son
i'm the city, is there?' she asks. "Yesr'
he says. your son got into an unfOr-
tunate encounter with young man in
a liquor saloon last night and is badly
hurt. The fact is, he cannot get well. 1
hate TO tell you all I am sorry to say
he is dead Dead she cries as she
totters back. "Oh, my son. my soni my
son. Would God l had died for theer'
That is the ending of all her cares and
anXieties and good counsels for that boy.
That is her pay for her self-sacrifces in
his behalf. That is the bad news from
the battle So the tidings of derelict or
Christian sons travel to the windows Of
earth or the windows of heaven at which
mothers sit.
The Heavenly Trains.
But" says some one. "are you not
mistaken about my glorified mother
hearing of my evildoings since she went
away?" Says some one else, Are you
not mistaken about my glorified mother
hearing Of my self-sacrifice and moral
bravery and struggle TO do right?'' MOI
Heaven and earth are in constant COM
munication. There are trains running
every five minutes-trains of Immortal Is
ascending and escending-spirits going
from earth 10 heaven to live there
Spirits descending from heaven to earth
to minister and help. They hear from
us many times every day. Do they
hear good news or bad news from this
battle-this Sedan. this Thermopylae.
this AusterlitZ. in which every one Of us
is fighting on the right side or the wrong
side?
Oh. God. whose l am. and whom / am
trying TO serve. as a result of this ser
mon, roll over on all mothers. a new
sense of their responsibility, and upon
all children, whether still in the nursery
or out on the tremendous EsdraeIon of
midlife or old age, the fact that their
victories or defeats sound clear out,
clear up to the windows of sympathetic
maternity. Oh, is not this the minute
when the cloud of blessing filled with
the eXhaled tears of anxious mothers