Marshall County independent. (Plymouth, Marshall County, Ind.) 1897-1902, 1899-09-22
TALMAGE'S SERMON.
THE QUEENS OF HOME, LAST
SUNDAYS SUBJECT.
Prom the Text, Sol Song. 8: 8, as Fol-
lows: There Are Three Score Queens"
Many Sympathies Stirred and Men,
cries Recalled.

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 =. 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.
] 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,
60 stumbling around the sick-room,
trying to soothe the distracted nerves
and alleviate the pains of the dis
tressed patient? The young man ae
college may scott 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.
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 i'll away
from home in 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. | 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. lie tried to bride the
doctor to make him live a little while
longer. He said: Il am willing to
die. but not alone" But the pulses
fluttered, 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 sad, pitiful, overwhelming
spectacle, When 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 nusketry, men
cried to the hosts, 'Forw ard, march,"
men hurled their battalionS on the
sharp edges of the enemy, crying,
Charge. charge," but woman scraped
the lint. woman administered the cor
couch. woman wrote the last message
to the home circle, 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. who came down
among the sick in the swampS Of the
Chickahominy: of Annie Ross, in the
cooper-shop hospital; of Margaret
BreckinIidge, who came to men who
had been for weeks with their wounds
undressed-someo 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 'hur-
rahi"-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" then
sitting down to take the last message:
Tell my wife not to fret about me
but to meet me in heaven; tell her to
train up the boys whom We have loved
so well; tell her we shall meet again
in the good land; tel. her to bear my
loss like the Christian wife of a Chris
tan soldier"-and of Mrs. Shelton
into whose face the convalescent sol
der 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 field, Drawing
death and wounds to reach the fallen
watching by their fever cots in the
West Indian hospitals. or on the troop
ships, or in our smitten home-camps
Men did their work with slot and shell
and carbine and howitzer; women CiC
their work with socks and slippers and
bandages and warm drinks and Scrip
ture texts and gentle strokings of the
hot temples and stories of that lanC
where they never have any pain. MeI
knelt down over the wounded and said
ION which side did you fght?" Won
en- knelt down over the wounded anC
said. Where are you hurt? What nice
thing can / make for you to eat? Wha
makes you cry?" Tonight while We
men are sound asleep in our beds
there will be a light in yonder loft