The Yale expositor. (Yale, St. Clair County, Mich.) 1894-current, 1899-09-22
TALMAGE'S SERMON.
THE QUEENS OF HOME, LAST
SUNDAYS SUBJECT.
From the Text, Sol. Song, @; 8, as Fol-
lows; There Are Three Score Queens"
Many sympathies Stirred and Mem
cries Recalled.
fronvr,gnt 1899 bv Louis KIopsch.)

EOD OOlOluOlt ny OAO obAOhNg OCT Iva 49,
the imperial character Of true Chris
tian woman. She is not slave, not
hireling, not a subordinate, but
queen. In a former sermon / showed
you that crown and courtly attendants,
and imperial wardrobe were not nee
essary to make a queen; but that
graces Of the heart and life will give
coronation to any woman. showed
you at some length that woman's posi-
ton was higher in the world than
mans, and that although she had often
been denied 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 do
minion which she has already won.
l began an enumeration Of some or
her rights, and now l resume the sub
ject.
In the first place, woman has the
special and the superlative right or
blessing and comforting the sick.
What land, what street, what house,
has not felt the smitings OF disease?
Tens of thousands of sick-beds What
shall we do with them? Shall man,
with his rough hand and clumsy foot,
go stumbling around the sick-room,
trying to soothe the distracted nerves
and alleviate the pains of the dis
tressed patient? The young man at
college may scoff at the idea of being
under maternal 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:
o woman, in our hours of ease.
Uncertain, coy and hard to please;
When pain and anguish wiring the
brow,
A ministering angel thou.
I 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 cry
ing 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 Ill away
from home in a strange hotel, once IN
a while men coming in to look at you,
holding their hand over their mouth
for fear they will catch the contagion.
How roughly they turn you in bed.
How loudly they talk. How you long
for the ministries OF home. l know
one such who went away from one OF
the brightest of 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 went westward; but they
went too late. He feared not to die,
but he was in an agony to live until his
family got there He tried to bride the
doctor to make him live a little while
longer. He said: II am willing to
die, but not alone" But the pulses
fiuttered, the eyes closed and the heart
stopped The express trains met in
the midnight; wife and daughters go
| ing westward-lifeless remains OF hus-
band and father coming eastward.
Oh, it was a sad. pitiful, overwhelming
spectacle! When we are sick, we want
| to be sick at home. When the time
comes for us to die, we want to die
at home.
In our Civil War, men cast the can
non, men fashioned the musketry, men
! cried to the hosts, Forward, marchl"
men hurled their battalions on the
sharp edges of the enemy, crying
charge! charged" but woman scraped
the lint, woman administered the cor
dials. woman watched by the dying
couch, woman wrote the last message
to the home circle, woman wept at the
solitary burial. attended by herself and
four men with spade. We greeted
the generals home with brass bands
and triumphal arches and wild huzzas
but the story Is too good to be writer
anywhere, save in the chronicles Of
heaven, of Mrs. Brady, who came dowr
among the sick in the swamps OF the
cooper-shop hospital; Of Margare
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 then
over, those that had an arm left, waved
il and filled the air with their thur
rah!"-of Mrs. Hodge, who came from
Chicago. with blankets and with pill
lows, until the men shouted, Three
cheers for the Christian Commission
God bless the women at home;" ther
sitting down to take the last message;
Tell my wife not to fret about me
but to meet me in heaven; tell her Il
train up the boys whom we have loved
so well; tell her we shall meet AGAR
in the good land; tell her to bear m!
loss like the Christian wife of Chris
tian soldier"-and of Mrs. Shelton
into whose face the convalescent sol
der looked and said: Your grapes
and cologne cured me-" And so it wa
also through all of our war with SpaiI
women heroic on the field, bravinl
death and wounds to reach the fallen
watching by their fever cots in tint
West Indian hospitals, or on the troop
ships, or in our smitten home-camps