St. Tammany farmer. [volume] (Covington, La.) 1874-current, 1899-10-14
A WORK FOR WOMEN.
Dr.. Talmage's Stirring Sermon on
"The Queens of Home"
Ueroine& Of the Fireslde and the Bat.
tleneld - Numbering Angelo
What Her Chief Desire
a Should Re.
Copyright. Louis Klopsch, 1891

text is Solomon's Song 6, S: There are
threescore queens"
4. So Solomon, by one stroke, set forth
the imperial character of a true Chris
tan woman. She is not a slave, not
hireling, not subordinate, but queen.
In former sermon l showed you that
crown ard courtly attendants and i'm
perial wardrobe were not necessary to
make a queen, but that graces of the
heart and life will give coronation to
any woman. showed you at cnce at
some length that woman's position was
higher in the world than mans, and
that although she had often been de-
MED the right of suffrage, she always
did vote. and always would vote by her
influence, and that her chief desire
ought to be that she should have grace
rightly to rule in the dominion which
she has already won. l began an emu
meration of some of her rights, ard now
I resume the subject.
In the first place woman has the spe-
cial and the superlative right of bless
ing and comforting the sick. What
land, what street, what house, has not
felt the smitings of disease? Tens of
thousands of sickbeds! What shall we
do with them? Shall man, with his
rough hand and clumsy foot. go STUN
bling around the sickroom, trying to
soothe the distracted nerves and al
leviate the pains Of the distressed pa
tent? The young man at college may
scott at the idea of being under mater
nal influences, but at the first blast of
typhoid fever On his cheek he says:
where is mother?" Walter Scott
wrote partly in satire and partly In
compliment:
oh, woman. in our hours Of ease.
Uncertain, coy ard hard to please.
When pain and anguish wiring the brow.
A Ministering angel thou! J I w. 49,
/ think the most pathetic passage in
all the Bible is the description of the
lad who went out to the harvest field
Of Shunem and got sunstruck-press-
ing his hands on his temples and crying
out: "Oh, my head! My head" And they
said: Garry him to his mother And
then the record is: He sat on her
knees till noon and then died.
1t is an awful thing to be i'll away
from home in strange hotel, once in
awhile men coming in to look at you,
holding their hand over their mouth for
fear they win catch the contagion. How
roughly they turn you in bed. How
loudly they talk. How you long for the
ministries of home. / know one such
who went away from one of the bright
est homes for several weeks business
absence at the west. A telegram came
at midnight that he was on his DEATH
bed far away from home By express
train the wife and daughters came
westward, but they went too late He
feared not to die, but he was in an
agony to i've until lis family got there.
He tried to bride the doctor to make
him live little while longer. He said:
Il am willing to die. but not alone"
But the pulses futtered. thieves closed.
and the heart stopped. The express
trains met in the midnight, wife and
daughters going westward, lifeless re-
mains Of husband and father coming
eastward. Oh, it was sad. pitiful.
overwhelming spectacle. When we
are sick, we want to be sick at home.
When the time comes to die. we want
to die at home. The room may heyery
humble, and the faces that look into
ours may be very plain. but who cares
for that? Loving hands to battle the
temples. Loving voices to speak good
sheer. Loving lips to read the comfort
ing promises of Jesus.
In our civil war men cast the cannon,
men fashioned musketry. men cried to
The hosts: Forward, march." men
buried their battalions on the sharp
edges of the enemy, crying: "Charge.
:hargc." But woman scraped the lint,
woman administered the cordials, won-
an watched the dying couch. woman
wrote the last message 10 the home cir
lie, woman wept at the solitary burial,
attended by herself and four men with
a spade. We greeted the generals home
with brass bands and triumphal arches
and wild huzzas; but the story is too
good to be written anywhere, save in
the chronicles of Heaven, of Mrs. Brady,
" ho NuHhN w" u tiN Si~h Ia aAN
swamps of the Chickahominy; Of Annie
Ross in the cooper shop hospital; of
Margaret Breckenridge, who came to
men who had been for weeks with their
wounds undressed, some of them frozen
to the ground, and when she turned
them over those that had an arm left
waved it and filled the air with their
'.hurrah!" of Mrs. Hodge. who came
from Chicago with blankets and with
pillows until the men shouted: r'Three
cheers for the Christian commission.
God bless the women at home;" then
sitting down to take the last message:
Tell my wife not to fret about me, but
o meet me in Heaven: ten her to train
ap the boys whom we have loved so
we'll; tell her we shall meet again in the
good land; tell her to bear my loss like
he Christian wife of Christian sol
lier;" and of Mrs. Shelton, into whose
face the convalescent soldier looked and
said: "Your grapes and cologne
cured me-"
And so it was also through all of our
war with Spain-women heroic on the
icld, Drawing death and wounds to reach
the fallen, watching by their fever cots
in the West Indian hospitals or on the
.roopships or in our smitten home
camps. Men did their work with shot
and shell and carbine and howitzer;
women did their work with socks and
slippers and bandages and warm drinks
md Scripture texts and gentle strokings
Of the hot temples and stories of that
land where they never have any pain.
Men knelt down over the swounded and
said: ION which side did you fight?"
Women knelt down over the wounded
and said: Where are you hurt? What
uice thing can make for you to cal?
What makes you cry?" Tonight while
We men are sound asleep in our beds
there will be light in yonder iofi;
there will be groaning down that dark
llley; there will be cries Of distress IN
that cellar. Men viii sleep. and women
will watch. ~
Again, woman has a special right to
AXE care of the poor. There are hun
lreds and thousands of them all over
he land. There is kind of work that