CHAPTER X.Womanhood During the Apostolic Ministry.

Tabitha—Glorified Her Needle—The Results of Little Acts—Lydia—Her Humility—Philip’s Four Daughters—Phœbe—Priscilla—Eunice—Lois—Eudia—Syntyche—Hulda—The Hebrew Maid—Tamar—Mothers of Great Men—The Author of the Bible Woman’s Best Friend.

Wenow come to the blessed ministry of women during the Apostolic age. And the first of these is Tabitha. Her residence was at Joppa. She was a “disciple,” and Luke renders her name, Tabitha, out of the Aramaic into the Greek as Dorcas. We further read that she was “full of good works,” among which that of making clothes for the poor is specifically mentioned. Tabitha had, without doubt, served Christ with her needle for many years, and exercised her faith by performing works of love. But there came a day when the fingers refused longer to ply the needle, and the heart grew faint, and in weariness she laid aside the unfinished garment, just to take a little rest, and when the neighbors and “widows” came in, they quickly saw the flushed cheek, and her critical condition aroused their anxious solicitude to relieve and care for and comfort her. The fear of losing her excited and agonized them. The apprehension of their great loss, in case she should be removed from them, almost drove the little church at Joppa to distraction.

But, notwithstanding the tender ministry of loving hands and aching hearts, Tabitha daily grew worse, and finally yielded up her spirit.

“The calm moon looked down while she was dying,The earth still held her way;Flowers breathed their perfume, and the wind kept sighing;Nought seemed to pause or stay.”

“The calm moon looked down while she was dying,

The earth still held her way;

Flowers breathed their perfume, and the wind kept sighing;

Nought seemed to pause or stay.”

Clasp the hands meekly over the still breast, they have no more work to do; close the weary eyes, they have no moretears to shed; part the damp tresses, they have no more pain to bear. Closed is the ear to love’s kind and gentle voice. No anxious care gathers on the marble brow as you gaze. No throb of pleasure pulsates from the dear, loving bosom, nor mantling flush mounts the blue-veined temple. Can this be death? Oh, if beyond death’s swelling flood there was no eternal shore! If for the struggling bark there were no port of peace! If athwart that lowering cloud sprang no bright bow of promise! Alas for love if this were all, and naught beyond the parting at earth’s portals.

The remains of Tabitha were carefully laid in a retired upper chamber. And now there was hurry and bustle in preparation for the final rites. Friends were sent for, neighbors were present, the funeral arrangements were discussed, the mourning procured, the hospitalities of the house provided for. All was excitement—the loss was not then perceived in all its greatness. But after the preparations were all made, after the bustle had subsided, and the watchers had come for the night, then it was that the friends of Tabitha began to realize what had befallen them. Now the house seemed so still and sepulchral, though in the heart of the city, and though its threshold was still trodden by friendly feet, it seemed so empty. The apartments—how deserted! especially the room where she struggled and surrendered in the last conflict. There are the clothes, the garments and unfinished coat, there was the vacant chair and idle work-basket. During her sickness they had not so much noticed these things, for they were ever hopeful that these things might be used or occupied again. But now it can not be, and they perceive the dreadful vacancy everywhere.

Oh, how dark and cheerless the shadows came down over that home! No moon or stars have ever shown so dimly—no darkness ever seemed so utterly dark. The ticking of the clock resounds like bell-strokes all over the house. Such deep silence! No footsteps now on the stairs, or in the sick-chamber; no nurse to come and say, “she is not so well,” andcome and ask for you. No, indeed, only the silent watchers move about with muffled step, and “you may sleep on now and take your rest,” if you can. Ah, poor bereaved hearts! It will be long ere the sweet rest you once knew will visit your couch. Slumber will bring again the scenes through which you have just passed, and you will start from it but to find them all too real. God pity the mourners after the body of the loved one lies unburied “in an upper chamber.”

All the members of the Christian congregation of Joppa appear to have been deeply moved by the loss which they had sustained, and to have entertained the wish in their hearts, although they did not venture to express it, that, if it were possible, Tabitha might be recalled to life, and yet, in sending for Peter, who at this time was at Lydda, ten miles away, they scarcely expected a miracle, and only desired that he would address words of consolation to them. Much is already gained, when they who abide in the house of mourning sincerely desire the consolations of God’s word spoken through human lips. It was only after her death that it became known what a treasure she had been to the church. It is one of the beautiful charms of the Christian life, that in nearly every congregation there is a Tabitha to be found who constitutes, as it were, the central point around which the love that exists in the society, collects. Every love is guided by her hand, and even when she utters no words, she successfully admonishes others.

Such a woman could not well be spared out of the Joppa church, and so, with the sunrising, the little congregation despatched two men, who hastened over the plain of Sharon to Lydda, with a message to Peter, saying, “Delay not to come to us!” There was haste in the matter. The body of Tabitha, in accordance with Oriental usage, could not be long held “in the upper chamber.” Peter seemed to have recognized this, for he at once “arose and went with them.”

As soon as the Apostle, who had made no delay, had arrived at Joppa, the elders of the congregation conducted him to the late home, and to the upper chamber in whichthe corpse lay. As Peter entered he saw the widows, on whom the deceased had conferred such benefits, standing around the bier of Tabitha, weeping, and “shewing the coats and garments which Dorcas made, while she was with them.” These acts of benevolence which survived their author, were indeed noble testimonials of the deceased woman’s love and charity.

After these weeping widows had told out their sorrow and their gratitude, Peter directed them all to withdraw. Doubtless he made this request that he could more fully engage in prayer when alone. He may also have perceived that some were governed by an idle curiosity. At all events, he did not yet know whether it was the Lord’s will to restore the deceased woman to life. Hence he desired to be alone with the Lord, in order to make known to Him the requests of the disciples.

After having poured out his soul in fervent prayer on his knees, Peter turned toward the body and called to Tabitha, saying, “Arise.” Luke gives us a graphic description of the scene: at first she opened her eyes, then, on seeing Peter, rose and sat up, and, at length, when Peter had given her his hand, stood up.

The Lord having restored Tabitha to life through the prayers of Peter, the Apostle called to the saints and widows, and presented to them the woman, who had been raised up by the power of God.

This great miracle, we are further told, produced an extraordinary effect in Joppa, and was the occasion of many conversions. “Many,” Luke says, “believed in the Lord.”

Doubtless, Tabitha, when she realized what the Lord had done for her, for the remainder of her life, said:

“I shall go softly,” since I’ve foundThe mighty arm that girds me roundIs gentle, as it’s sure and strong;“I shall go softly” through the throngAnd with compulsion calm and sweetLead sinners to the Saviour’s feet.

“I shall go softly,” since I’ve found

The mighty arm that girds me round

Is gentle, as it’s sure and strong;

“I shall go softly” through the throng

And with compulsion calm and sweet

Lead sinners to the Saviour’s feet.

Tabitha, in her good works and alms-deeds, and in her garments that she made, is not a fashion-plate, but a model for every Christian woman. We may learn, in her life, the glorification of little things. She was not rich, at least we are not told that she was, and yet how she glorified her needle, until a whole city is moved to bitter weeping at her death. Her needle brought her unsought fame. Little acts are the elements of all true greatness. They test our disinterestedness. The heart comes all out in them. It matters not so much what we have, as to what use we put that which we have. A man who had made an immense fortune out of a factory in which its builder had sunk $75,000 and failed, said, “I am always here to watch the little things, to pick up a bunch of cotton, to tighten a screw, to turn on a nut, to regulate a machine, to mend a band, to oil a dry place, and so prevent breakages and stopping of the work. These little wastes of material and machinery in time will eat up the profits of any business. These little things I attend to myself. I can hire men to attend the large things.”

This is the secret of success in every department of business and walk of life. The principle is equally applicable to women’s work. Perhaps no class of people ought to look after little things more than the house-wife. Certainly every woman ought to know that careless extravagance, and the little wastes in many ways, destroy the profits. There are a thousand ways in which opportunities for good may be wasted. Never wait for the evil to increase. “A stitch in time saves nine,” saves a rent, and, under the well-trained eye of Tabitha, saved a garment. Heavy doors turn on small hinges. Fortunes turn on pivots. Look out for small things. They are the atoms, the trifles, that make up the large things. A stitch is a small thing, but led by the needle of Dorcas, the garments and coats multiplied.

So of Christian usefulness. The needle in Tabitha’s hand was a very small instrument, but the deeds it wrought, clothed the widows and blessed a church. The two mites of the poor widow were a little sum, but measured by their motive,they were perhaps the largest contribution ever made to Christian charity. It is said that a tract, from the hands of a servant girl, led to the conversion of no less than Richard Baxter. He awoke to a world of usefulness. Among the library of books he wrote was the “Call to the Unconverted.” It fell into the hands of Philip Doddridge. It led him to Christ. Doddridge, too, awoke to a world of usefulness. His “Rise and Progress” was the means of the awakening of William Wilberforce. A book of his writing led to the salvation of Leigh Richmond. He wrote the “Dairyman’s Daughter,” that fell upon the world like a leaf from heaven—all the fruitage of a single tract from the hand of a maid.

“What is that in thine hand?” the Almighty asked Moses while he kept Jethro’s flock in the back side of the desert, and Moses said, “A rod,” a shepherd’s staff, cut out of the thicket near by, with which he guided his sheep. Any day he might throw it away and cut a better one, but God said, “With this rod thou shalt save Israel.”

What is that in thine hand, Sarah? Three measures of meal with which I prepare my dinner. Hasten, knead it, and make cakes upon the hearth, and angels shall sit at thy table to-day. What is that in thine hand, Rebekah? A pitcher with which I carry water. Use it in watering the thirsty camels of Eliezer, and thou shalt be an heir in the house of Abraham? What is that in thine hand, Miriam? Only a timbrel. Use it in leading the women of Israel in the song of triumph over Pharaoh’s hosts. What is that in thine hand, Rahab? Only a scarlet thread. Bind it in the window, and thou shalt save thyself and household. What is that in thine hand, poor widow? Only two mites. Give them to God, and behold, the fame of your riches fills the world. What hast thou, weeping woman? An alabaster box of ointment. Give it to God. Break it, and pour it on thy Saviour’s head, and its sweet perfume is a fragrance in the church till now. What is that in thine hand? A broom. Use it for God. A broom in the hand of a Christian womanmay be as truly used for His glory, as was the sceptre of David. What is that in thine hand? A pen. Use it for God. Oh, matchless instrument! Write words of comfort and sympathy that shall echo around the globe. Oh, can you not find some poor soul to-day who does not know Jesus? Can you not tell some wanderer about the Christ? What is in thine hand? Wealth. Consecrate it now to God. What is in thy mouth? A tongue of eloquence. Use it for God. The tongue is the mightiest instrument that God ever made. What is in thine hand? A kindly grasp? Give that to some sad, desponding soul. We need grit and grace to use the common things in the ordinary way in the daily occupations of life. Consecrate the pen, the needle, the tongue, the hands, the feet, and the heart to Jesus. Our Lord gave dignity to labor; the sweat-beads of honest toil stood on His brow.

This is God’s way of working. He chooses to use the least things—even things that amount to nothing—to accomplish His work in the salvation of the race. Use your leisure. Feed the hungry, clothe the naked, visit the sick, comfort the wretched, spread the gospel far and wide. If you have nothing else, use your needle, and the garments will multiply, and the destitutes will be clothed. A poor girl who had nothing but a sewing machine, used it to aid a feeble church; all her earnings above her needs were given towards building a house of worship, and in a year she paid more than a hundred others richer than she. So you can do if you will. If you but knew it, you have Tabitha’s needle in your hand—the simple instrumentality with which to do good. When the pierced hand of our Lord is laid on consecrated needles, on the ordinary means within our reach, on wealth, on learning, on beauty, on culture, on every gift and grace in every relation in life, then the splendor of the millennial dawn will color the eastern sky with its crimson and gold.

From the beautiful home of Tabitha, in Joppa, the Sacred history runs on until Lydia, in the city of Philippi, is reached.

While at Troas, Paul had a remarkable vision in the night, of a man of Macedonia, standing before him and praying, “Come over into Macedonia, and help us.” How Paul knew this man to be a Macedonian is not stated. Perhaps he may have frequently seen Macedonian seamen in Tarsus, his birthplace, which was a flourishing commercial city on the Mediterranean, or he may have recognized him by his speech or national dress. This man entreated him, in the vision, to cross over the sea from Asia into Europe, and come to the aid of the inhabitants of Macedonia. Paul had never been in Europe, and had no thought of going there. On the other hand, he had been delivering the decrees issued by the church council at Jerusalem, through the maritime cities of Asia Minor, and “assayed to go into Bithynia,” but was restrained by the Spirit of God. Being thus convinced, he embarked at Troas, taking with him as fellow-laborers, Silas, Timothy, and Luke.

After a rapid and successful voyage over the peaceful waters of the Ægean Sea, in a direct course to the north-west, they reached the island of Samothrace. The next day they proceeded to Neapolis, situated on the Strymonic Gulf, and a seaport of Thrace. From this point they continued their journey, probably, on foot. Following the ancient well-paved road up the steep Symbolum hills, until they reached the solitary pass through the mountains, at an elevation of 1,600 feet above the sea. Once through this lonely pass and a magnificent view is obtained of the plain in which Philippi is located, and of the Pangæus and Hæmus ranges, which close in the plain to the south-west and north-east. At one point on the summit of Symbolum one can look down into Neapolis on the sea, and into Philippi in the plain. From this point the Apostles descended to the plain below by a yet steeper road than the ascent out of Neapolis. At length, at the end of a twelve miles’ jaunt on foot, finds them in “the chief city of that part of Macedonia,” and they were quite prepared for a good meal and a night’s rest.

The next morning, being the Sabbath day, the Apostles began to look about the city for a synagogue. But there was no synagogue in Philippi, only one of those light, temporary structures, called proseuchæ, which was merely an enclosure without a roof, and was located on the banks of the swiftly-rushing Anghista (not the Strymon, as some writers have it), and so the Apostles hastened “out of the city” to the “river side,” to the proseuchæ, “where prayer was wont to be made.”

THE CITY BY THE ANGHISTA.

This place without the city wall was not a solitary locality, secluded and retired from the endless confusion of city streets, but, on the contrary, it was a market place, especially set apart for the mountain clans of the Pangæus and Hæmusranges, who came down with their pack animals to trade. No doubt this stream had its fountains high up among the Hæmus hills, and with great force came rushing down the mountain, and spreading out in the plain, gave a plentiful supply to man and beast. It flowed down through the market place; it was within reach of every child’s pitcher; it was enough for every empty vessel. The small birds came down thither to drink; the sheep and lambs had trodden down a little path to its brink. The thirsty beasts of burden, along the dusty road, knew the way to the stream, with its soft, sweet murmur of fullness and freedom. The clear, sparkling river must have reminded the Apostles of the waters of life and salvation, which they were bringing to these Philippians. This stream sometimes may cease to flow, and every other may be dry in the days of drought and adversity, but the heavenly stream whose spring was in Jesus Christ, they well knew, would never cease to flow. And they also well knew that whosoever drank from the river issuing from under the threshold of divine grace, should never thirst.

Amid these surroundings, Paul and his companions sat down in the proseuchæ, “and spake unto the women” who had already assembled in the place of prayer. It would seem that there were no Hebrew men in Philippi, and possibly, for the reason this city was a military, and not a mercantile centre. Even the women may have been few in number, so that the speaker could not deliver a formal address, but only engage in familiar conversation, which could be easier done in a sitting posture, and in a comparatively free and conversational intercourse, thus assuming at once the attitude of teachers.

The gracious words which fell from the lips of Paul in this first attempt to introduce the gospel into Macedonia, are not reported by Luke, but he tells us that the Lord opened the heart of a woman named Lydia. There is something very beautiful in this incident, that God should honor woman with being the first convert in Europe! It was a man who stoodbefore Paul in his vision, praying, “Come over into Macedonia and help us,” but it is a woman who is first willing to be helped. There was, that Sabbath morning, in the proseuchæ, by the rippling waters of the Anghista, one solitary woman who was in a special degree, open to the influence of the truth, and who listened with earnest attention to all that Paul said.

Luke tells us that Lydia was a dealer in purple, and a citizen of Thyatira, Asia Minor, and, as Thyatira was a Macedonian colony, we may the more readily understand that circumstances connected with her trade brought her at this time to Philippi, and was probably only a temporary resident. Thyatira was celebrated, at a very early period, for its purple dyes and purple fabrics. The purple color, so extravagantly valued by the ancients, and even by the Orientals at the present day, included many shades or tints, from rose-red to sea-green or blue. Philippi being the military centre of Macedonia, the military trappings, with all their tinsel and show, made a brisk market for the purple cloth of Lydia, and, no doubt, she was a woman who prospered in her business, and was in good circumstances, and, possibly, possessed of considerable wealth, as she generously offered her home and hospitality to Paul and his companions.

But now see how the words and acts of this noble woman demonstrates the genuineness of her faith. She at once, with her household, presents herself for baptism. While it is quite probable that the baptism was not performed on the spot, it took place, no doubt, at the first opportunity. Having become a member of the household of faith, she addresses the Apostles saying, “If ye have judged me to be faithful,” that is, judged that I am one that believeth in the Lord, “come into my house, and abide there.” What gentleness in her language, “If ye have judged me faithful,” humbly submitting to the experienced judgment of her religious benefactors, yet urgently inviting the Apostle and all his companions to enter her house, and remain there as her guests. This proffered hospitality furnished directevidence of her love to her Redeemer, which proceeded from faith, and which manifested itself by disinterested and kind attentions to His messengers. She supported her plea by appealing to the judgment which they had themselves pronounced in her case, and without which they would unquestionably have declined to baptize her.

That these messengers of the gospel acceded to the request of Lydia, and entered her house as guests, may be confidently assumed. We also see with what beautiful fidelity she remained true to Paul and Silas when they were persecuted.

It is also interesting to notice that through Lydia, indirectly, the gospel may have been introduced into that very section (Bithynia), where Paul had been forbidden directly to preach it. Whether she was one of “those women” who labored with Paul in the gospel at Philippi, as mentioned afterwards in the Epistle to that place (Phil. iv, 3) it is impossible to say, but from what we know of her history, it would be just like her, for, surely such a royal entertainer in true hospitality, would make a heroic laborer in any gospel field.

We may learn from Lydia’s life that the human heart is closed and barred by sin, so that divine truth can not enter to enlighten the mind, direct the will, or renew the spiritual life forces until divine grace, through operations of the Holy Spirit, opens the heart. When the Lord opens the heart, conversion is possible, but it is actually effected only when the heart, like the prepared field, with willingness receives the seed of divine truth. God calls, and if but few are chosen, it is simply because men choose not to obey the call. The Lord opens only the hearts of those for His spiritual kingdom who are willing to and do accept His conditions.

In the conversion of Lydia we see the Kingdom of Christ in its incipient state strikingly illustrated. In the parable of the grain of mustard-seed, Jesus told his disciples that the gospel in its beginning would be just like that smallest of seeds, but would grow and spread, and finally succeed.Lydia is only one convert, a lone woman in a great military camp of a heathen city, and women, socially, in those days, did not count for much. Humanly speaking, this first European convert appeared about as insignificant as a grain of mustard-seed. And yet this apparently insignificant seed produced a rich and precious harvest in the flourishing congregation of Philippi, in the spread of the gospel over all Europe, and it will soon cover the whole world.

From Lydia’s candid reception of the gospel, her urgent hospitality, her unfaltering and continued friendship to the Apostles, her modest bearing in being accounted worthy of the confidence of her benefactors, we are led to form a high estimate of her character. Though possessed of considerable wealth, and, possibly, of social rank, she had the grace of humility. Her deep humility in the presence of God’s messengers was a clear and sufficient proof of her humility before God, and that it was real; that humility, if not already a resident in her heart, had, with the incoming of divine grace, taken up its abode in her, and become her very nature; that she actually, like Christ, made herself of no reputation, especially when persecution came to Paul and Silas.

When, in the presence of God, lowliness of heart has become, not a posture we assume for a time, but the very spirit of our life, it will manifest itself, as it did in Lydia, in all our bearing towards others. The lesson is one of deep import. The only humility really ours is not that which we assume in our devotions to God, but that which we carry with us in our ordinary conduct. The insignificances of the daily life are the importances of eternity, because they prove what spirit really possesses us. It is in our most unguarded moments we really show what we are. To know the humble woman, to know how the humble woman behaves, you must accept her hospitality as the Apostles accepted the hospitality of Lydia, and follow her to her home, and into the common course of daily life.

Humility before God is nothing if not proved in humility before men. It was when the disciples disputed who shouldbe greatest that Jesus taught the lesson of humility by washing their feet. And this heavenly grace runs all through the epistles of Paul, the spiritual father of Lydia. To the Romans he writes, “In honor preferring one another.” “Set not your mind on high things, but condescend to those that are lowly.” “Be not wise in your own conceit.” To the Corinthians he said, “Love vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up, seeketh not her own, is not provoked.” These are all the gracious fruits of humility, for there is no love without humility at its roots. To the Galatians the Apostle writes, “Through love be servants one of another. Let us not be desirous of vain glory, provoking one another, envying one another.” To the Ephesians, immediately after the three wonderful chapters on the heavenly life, he writes, “Therefore, walk with all lowliness and meekness, with long-suffering, forbearing one another in love;” “Giving thanks always, subjecting yourselves one to another in the fear of Christ.” To the Philippians, “Doing nothing through faction or vain glory, but in lowliness of mind, each counting others better than himself. Have the mind in you which was also in Christ Jesus, who emptied Himself, taking the form of a servant, and humbled Himself.” And to the Colossians, “Put on a heart of compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, long-suffering, forbearing one another, and forgiving each other, even as the Lord forgave you.”

It is in our relation to one another, that the true lowliness of mind and the heart of humility are to be seen. Our humility before God has no value but as it prepares us to reveal the humility of Jesus to our fellow-men. Let us cultivate this beautiful gem of divine grace, which was developed in such a marked degree in the life of Lydia, the first European Christian.

But we hasten on in our narrative, and gather up in a group, as one would gather a handful of flowers, those Women in White Raiment so briefly mentioned in the Sacred records as not to give us enough of their history to write upon.

Among these are the unnamed four daughters of Philip the evangelist, who lived at Cæsarea. These daughtersranked high in the early church. They possessed the gift of prophetic utterance, and who apparently gave themselves to the work of teaching. Though no record is left us of their work, we may well believe their distinguished accomplishments brought them into contact with many people of that busy seaport city on the Mediterranean, where people of all nations came and went.

Phœbe of Cenchrea, one of the ports of Corinth. She must have been a woman of influence, and worthy of confidence and respect. She is not only commended by Paul, but was also a deaconess in the church at Cenchrea. On her was conferred the honor of carrying the letter of Paul from Corinth to Rome. Whatever her errand to Rome may have been, the independent manner of her going there seems to imply (especially when we consider the secluded habits of Greek women) that she was a woman of mature age, and was acting in an official capacity. She was not only a woman of great energy, but possessed of wealth. She evidently was of great service to Paul, and he had confidence in her integrity, for he writes in the very letter of which she was the bearer to the Romans, “I commend you unto Phœbe our sister, which is a servant of the church which is at Cenchrea.”

Priscilla, the wife of Aquila, who had fled from Rome, in consequence of an order of Claudius commanding all Jews to leave Rome. She, with her husband, came to Corinth. In the days of the Apostle, Corinth was a place of great mental activity, as well as of commercial enterprise. Its wealth and magnificence were so celebrated as to be proverbial; so were the vices and profligacy of its inhabitants. But it was just the kind of city Paul delighted in carrying the gospel to. Where vice abounded he would have grace much more abound. Here Priscilla became acquainted with Paul, and they abode together, and wrought at their common trade of making the Cilician tent. This woman, while taking stitches in the haircloth out of which the tents were made, could also conduct a theological school with no less apt a student than that of Apollos, already noted for his eloquence, and who was“mighty in the Scriptures.” But Priscilla, as she heard this eloquent young man, at once discovered there was something wanting in his ministry. It seemed to her that Apollos knew only the baptism of John. She knew of a more excellent way, and so while she was setting stitches, she “expounded unto him the way of God more perfectly.” O, for more Priscillas, versed in heavenly lore and skilled to impart it! Priscilla is certainly a noble example of what a woman in the ordinary walks of life may do for the church.

CORINTH, THE GATE OF THE PELOPONNESUS.

Eunice, the mother, and Lois, the grandmother of Timothy, are beautiful examples of women in the home. Thesewomen had such unfeigned faith in the gospel, and so ably instructed Timothy in the Scriptures, that this home scene made a deep and lasting impression upon Paul, and later on, in one of his epistles to Timothy, he writes, “When I call to remembrance the unfeigned faith that is in thee, which dwelt first in thy grandmother Lois, and thy mother Eunice, ... I put thee in remembrance (of this excellent home-training, and by reason of its superior advantage) that thou stir up the gift of God, which is in thee.”

Euodias (or rather Eudia) and Syntyche, deaconesses in the church at Philippi. These women afforded Paul active co-operation under difficult circumstance, and in them, as well as other women of the same class, is an illustration of what the gospel, in the Apostolic times, did for women, and also what the women did for the gospel, for the Apostle expressly states that these women labored with him in the gospel, besides many other elect women, the detailed mention of whom fills nearly all of the last chapter of the epistle to the Romans, whose history, if known, would doubtless be as interesting as the history of those whose names and acts have been preserved to us for our study and comfort.

And then there are a host of women whose names are not mentioned, but who, we have every reason to believe, were numbered with the Princesses of God, women whose faith and patience in labor clothed them in White Raiment. Of such we note a few: Noah’s wife and her three daughters-in-law, who must have exercised the same faith as their husbands, and who must have been in full sympathy with their labors; the host of Israelitish women led by Miriam in their song of triumph over the Lord’s deliverance from Pharaoh’s army; the wife of Manoah, the mother of Samson, who was twice visited by the angel of the Lord; Hulda, the prophetess, who lived in the time of King Josiah, to whom Hilkiah, the high priest, had recourse, when the book of the law was found, to procure an authoritative opinion, for, doubtless, in her time she was the most distinguished person for prophetic gifts in Jerusalem; the captive Hebrew maidin the house of Naaman, the Syrian general, who knew all about the prophet in Samaria, and had faith to believe that Elisha would heal him of his leprosy, even though captive as she was, and in a strange land; in the days of Saul and David, when returning from the conquests, “the women” who “came out of all the cities of Israel” to welcome, with tabrets and song, the deliverers of God’s people.

Perhaps we should not fail to briefly mention Tamar, the daughter of David, for she was not only a chaste virgin, but was also remarkable for her extraordinary beauty. Her high sense of honor must ever stand as a memorial of her virtue, especially when we take into account the low standard of morality which prevailed in her time.

Added to her beauty, she had domestic accomplishments. It would almost seem that Tamar was supposed, at least by her perfidious brother Amnon, to have a peculiar art in baking palatable cakes.

With no suspicion of any wicked design, this beautiful princess, at her father’s request, goes to the house of her supposed sick brother to prepare the food she was assured he would relish. So she took the dough and kneaded it, and then in his presence (for this was a part of his fancy, as though there was something exquisite in the manner of performing the work), kneaded it a second time into the form of cakes.

After the cakes were baked, she took them, fresh and crisp, to Amnon to eat. When she fully realized his wicked designs, she touchingly remonstrated, and held up to him the infamy of such a crime “in Israel,” and appealed to his sense of honor, saying, “As for thee, thou shalt be as one of the fools in Israel.” Her indignation after his unnatural designs were accomplished, and she had been thrust out, was even more heroic than her protests. In her agony she snatched a handful of ashes and threw them on her beautiful hair, then tore her royal gown, and, clasping her hands upon her head, rushed to and fro through the streets crying.

While this is one of the most pathetically sad scenes recorded in Bible history, yet it brings out in a remarkablemanner, the virtue and high honor of womanhood in those rude ages of the world.

But over against this dark background of Amnon’s conduct the careful home-training of Timothy, under the moulding influence of his mother Eunice, and his grandmother Lois, shines with a brightness that reflects great credit. And if such careful home-training was so far-reaching in its results as to cause Paul, in later years, to remind Timothy of this training as an inspiration to stir up the gift of God in him, what shall be said of motherhood and wifehood of the many noble characters found in the Sacred record? It is a fact that women have great influence in shaping the lives of men. Who can tell how greatly womanhood influenced the lives of such men as Enoch, who walked with God; Noah, whose faith led him to the building of the ark; Abraham, whose wonderful life of trust has made him the father of the faithful in all generations of men; Melchizedek, king of Salem and priest of the most high God; Job, whom adversity could not shake, and who, in the midst of his calamities, exclaimed, “Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him;” Caleb and Joshua, whose confidence in God’s ability to lead the host of Israel into the promised land, was unwavering under most trying circumstances; Elijah and Elisha, who stood as the defences of God’s people amid idolatrous times; the good King Hezekiah, and his ever faithful counselor, Isaiah, who went up into the Temple and spread out the insulting letter of Sennacherib, and “prayed and cried to heaven;” Daniel and his companions, who walked through the fire and the den of lions, and thus proved their fidelity to truth and righteousness; Nehemiah, who, by moonlight, viewed the ruins of the city of his fathers, and then, with wonderful courage, repaired its broken-down walls and set up its gates that had been burned with fire; and the great host of women mentioned by Paul, who, through faith, “received their dead raised to life again,” and others who “were tortured, not accepting deliverance, that they might obtain a better resurrection.” Surely such mothers and wives wouldraise up heroic men. The Spartan mother told her son, when he started for the war, “to return with his shield, or upon it.” But the Hebrew women led armies, subdued kingdoms, and turned to flight the armies of the aliens.

Such is the womanhood of the Bible, and while with her companion, man, she inherited the infirmities brought upon the race in the transgression, yet she is infinitely in advance of the women living in lands where the Bible is unknown. Indeed, the condition of Hebrew women has always presented a marked contrast with heathen women, and for the reason, while the Bible seeks to elevate them, heathendom has sought to degrade them. Heathen oppression of womanhood rests upon the nations where the Bible is not known, like the mountain upon Typho’s heart. Buddhism presents no personal god. He is “eyeless, handless, never sad and never glad.” For sinning man there is no pity, for of all his hundreds of names there is no “Father.” Confucianism, with its backward gaze, teaches no sin, no Saviour, and only China for heaven. Mohammedanism has its creeds, prayers, alms, fastings and pilgrimages. But its creeds were partly written on human bones, its pilgrimages are corrupt and its formal prayers are to “Allah,” who bears little resemblance to the Christian’s God. Not censure, but pity, hovers over these classic religions and the millions who are under the pall of paganism.

Hark! From far distances voices are calling;Hushed be earth’s clamor, be silent and hear;Thrilling the heart with sad cadences falling,Comes the appeals in their syllables clear,Knowing no song but the breath of a sigh,Send o’er the ocean their heart-breaking cry.Lips that are muffled yet utter their story,O the sad plea of their multiplied wrongs;Grim superstition grown ancient and hoary,Shuts in dim prisons these languishing throngs,Heathen womanhood, with piteous pleading,Call to us blindly, their woes interceding.

Hark! From far distances voices are calling;

Hushed be earth’s clamor, be silent and hear;

Thrilling the heart with sad cadences falling,

Comes the appeals in their syllables clear,

Knowing no song but the breath of a sigh,

Send o’er the ocean their heart-breaking cry.

Lips that are muffled yet utter their story,O the sad plea of their multiplied wrongs;Grim superstition grown ancient and hoary,Shuts in dim prisons these languishing throngs,Heathen womanhood, with piteous pleading,Call to us blindly, their woes interceding.

Lips that are muffled yet utter their story,

O the sad plea of their multiplied wrongs;

Grim superstition grown ancient and hoary,

Shuts in dim prisons these languishing throngs,

Heathen womanhood, with piteous pleading,

Call to us blindly, their woes interceding.

The non-Christian religions offer no light in life and no hope in death. The bitter cry of the Hindoo widow’s prayer is, “O God, let no more women be born in this land.” The horrors of heathenism are unknown in Christian lands. What makes the difference? We have clearly shown in these pages that it is the teaching of the Bible, and this one fact alone stamps the book as divine. It has God for its Author, and, from Genesis to Revelation, it blesses and elevates women.

Why does paganism oppress womanhood? Because these monstrous systems are dominated by Satan, and knowing as he must, that woman stands at the fountain of the race, he poisons and corrupts the very sources of life. For the truth of this one needs only to compare Christian with heathen lands. Compare America with its happy Christian homes, with India in whose cloistered zenanas are millions of widows, many of them under ten years of age, and doomed to a living death—must sleep on the ground, feed on herbs, and practice rigid mortification. Before Christianity entered that land, the horrors of the suttee (the burning alive of the widow with her dead husband), the sacrificing of infants to the River Ganges, the slaying of young men and women in Hindu temples to appease Kali, the god of the soil, the “Car of Juggernaut,” rolling over hundreds of beings annually, and crushing them to death, the burning alive of lepers, the hastening of the death of a parent by the children in carrying the former to the River Ganges and there, on the banks, filling the afflicted one’s mouth with sand and water are left to die, the public exhibition of voluntary starvation on the part of Hindu devotees,—all these terrible practices, once so popular in India, have passed away since the missionary has planted his foot upon the soil. To-day none of these things can be found, and India’s voice, as well as the voice of all Christendom, can go up to God in praise that these things no longer exist there. And what has taken place in India, is also fast taking place in China and Africa. Surely, the Christian woman needs to press her Bible to her heart,and love it as she loves her God, for, were it not for this blessed book, her condition would be no better than is the condition of woman in the lands where Buddhism, Confucianism and Mohammedanism have crushed out of her all that is worth having, and even denies that she has a soul. It must be seen that such systems are incapable of elevating womanhood.

The thought uppermost in our mind, when we set out to write these pages was, to show that God created man and woman as equals, that Christ came to save our whole humanity, and that Christianity is the true friend of woman. How beautiful is all this in contrast with the cruelties of heathenism. See how patiently Jesus talks with a lone woman by Jacob’s well, how tenderly he speaks to the woman who sobbed out her sorrow for her sins at His feet, how compassionately He says to the woman for whose blood her accusers had clamored, after He had silenced them, “Go, and sin no more.” And, to the credit of head and heart, be it said, woman has appreciated her Saviour, and in many ways shown her gratitude. Perhaps there is no more beautiful and touching incident in the life of our Lord than that recorded by Luke, where women “ministered unto Him of their substance.”

Finally, if any have been helped to a better understanding and appreciation of the Bible by the perusal of these pages, and have been lifted nearer to the heart of God, we shall feel that our labors have not been in vain.

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