The San Francisco call., 1896-04-19


true test of courage. The cold neglect, the
cruel scorn, the defeat day after day, year
after year, from the dawn of womanhood
@ the verge of the grave, the cowardly
faltering of men who promise one thing
and perform another, weak men who pre-
fer po pularity to principle-this it is that
makes woman's lifelong battles so terrible.
Woman as rule instinctively knows
what is right and she generally dares 10 do
1t. Man, by reason as a rule, knows what
is right and often is afraid or forgets to do
it. l am sorry, ashamed of him, but / did
not make him. male and female created
He them.'
1t is this patient persistence of woman
that shows the true steel, that requires a
higher and holier type of courage than
man has ever shown with all his bloody
butcheries. Woman's courage is the
courage of Jesus Christ. who said, "Put up
thy sword into its place." and SO was led
away to contumely and crucifxion. Shall |
;ell you where you will find the bravest
battlefield in all history?
The bravest battle that ever was fought,
Shall tell you where and when?
On The maps of tn word you will find it not;
1t was fought by the mothers of men.
Nay. not with cannon or battle shot
With sword or with nobler pen:
Nay, not with wonderful word or thought,
From mouths of eloquent men.
But deep walled up woman's heart
woman that would not yield.
But patiently, silently bore her part;
Lo, there is that battlefield.
No marshaling troop, no blvouac song
No banners TO gleam and wave,
And ah. these battles they last SO long,
From babyhood TO the grave.
The bravest act | ever saw was the act
of woman, and you must know have
seen many brave deeds and seen many
brave men. The bravest of all, perhaps
was my Quaker father. This man lived
seventy-two years in the wilderness, al.
ways among wild beasts and wilder men !;
yet he never learned how to either load or
ire a gun. He never raised his hand
against anything or spoke one cross word
even to the dumb brutes.
True, this is not the sort of courage that
appeals most loudly, but it is the loftiest,
truest and most Christlike courage to be
found under the sun. And so this little
story of woman's brave deed will not
strike you as remarkable.
We were 200 miles from the nearest post
office, in the heart of the wilderness, and
surrounded by savages. We had almost
daily battles; nearly every day some one
of our 1000 men was killed or manned.
But this little quiet story is not of men or
OF battles, but of a woman-the preachers
wife. Do you know anything of the old
customs of the border? OF the preacher,
the preacher who must always preach the
funeral sermon? No matter who died, or
where, or how, there must be a funeral
sermon. To this day my mother, who is
with me, asks, when one Of the old neigh
bors dies up in Oregon, "Who preached
the funeral sermon?n
One bright spring day, after sudden
ralnstorm, a poor abandoned woman, who
had been caring for the wounded all night,
and now was drinking again, started to
walk across the roaring creek on foot
log from one saloon to another. Hallway
she stopped, turned, tried to cross back
to go forward, but at last, with a wild crv
OF despair, threw up her hands and fell,
to be picked up by the miners miles
below. They picked the willow twigs from
her colo hands and the grasses from her her
hair, smoothed her wet dress, folded
the poor hands and, having made such
coffin as they could, brought her back up
to the great log house, which served as a
tort, arsenal, courthouse and church. for
the funeral sermon. She had been good
good to everybody but herself-but she
was what the world calls bad-bad-the
only woman in the town at that time.
except the preachers young wife.
Ihey went to get the preacher to preach
the sermon after they had dug the grave
upon the hill, but the preacher would not
go. They came after me to go and urge
him to say few words over the poor. lone
dead woman, and l with some others
went to him. He was a good man. but he
said: mo; it will do her no good and
will iniure the cause of the new church. y
The young wife urged him to 90.
No, no. She was desperate wicked
Let her death be an example. That is
best-best for the living and all the same
now to the dead"
"Then / will gop'
What! you. Mary? If you must 60,
go; and never come back to me-"
She did not say one word. She caught
up some wild flowers from the mantel as
she hurried out and on up to the place
where the dead lay among the men, and
In such haste that we could scarcely keep
up with her. And she passed right in.
down through the dense crowd that gave
way to let her pass, and she fell on her
knees at the foot of the box, and all the men
held their heads low as she silently
prayed. and then she got up, and as she
moved up to the head of the dead woman
her husband stood IN the door. She
heedeq nothing, no one, but tenderly laid
the flowers on the dead girls breast.
Then, as she leaned over and kissed the
cold and despised woman the men began
TO cry like children. | don't know why
they cried SO, but they all cried together,
though she never said one word. And the
preacher came softly to her side and,
turning to the men, said: "Forgive me |!
came to preach the sermon, but she has
preached it. Take up the dead and let us
all go to the grave together
he was good man, brave, good man !;
but who was the braver, who saw the right
road to the hearts of the miners the duty
to the living and the dead more clearly.
the woman or the man?
We were mixed lot in the mines.
There was great, big Enelishman. who
afterward grew very rich in New Zealand.
We met long after in London and talked
of old times. We talked of women. Men
will talk of women sometimes, when