The Bolivar bulletin. (Bolivar, Tenn.) 1888-1946, 1895-07-05
SISTERS OF CHARITY"
Rev. DR.. Talmage Talks Upon the
Work of Woman
And the Missions for which She Has Been
Especially Equipped by GOd-Her
Influence I'm the Cause of
Christ on Earth.


found him during his western trip.
The subject was sisters of Charity, "
and the text:
This woman was full OF good works and
RlmSdeeds which she did--Acts tx. So
Starting now where 1 left of last
Sabbath in reciting woman's oppor-
tunities, have to say that woman has
the special and superlative right of
blessing and comforting the sick.
What land, what street, what house,
has not felt the smitings of disease?
Tens of thousands of sick bedsl What
shall we do with them? Shall man,
with his rough hand and heavy foot,
and impatient bearing, minister? No
He can not soothe the pain. He can
not quiet the nerves. He knows net
where to set the light. His hand Is
not steady enough to pour out the
drops He is not wakeful enough TO
be watcher. The Lord God sent Miss
Dix into the Virginia hospitals, and
the Maid of Saragosa to appease the
wounds Of the battle field, has equipped
wife, mother and daughter for this
delicate but tremendous mission. You
have known men who have despised
woman, but the moment disease fell
upon them they did not send for their
friends at the bank, or their partner
in business or worldly associates; their
first cry was: Take me to my wife. :"
The dissipated young man at the coll
lege SCOTS at the idea of being under
home influences; but at the first blast
of the typhoid fever on his cheek, he
says: Where is mother?' Sir Walter
Scott wrote partly in compliment when
he said:
o woman, In our hour OF ease
Uncertain, coy and hard TO please;
When pain and anguish wiring the brow,
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-throw-
ing his hands on his temples and cry
ing out: 30, my head! my headr" 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 to look at you,
holding their hand over their mouth
tagion. How roughly they turn you
In bedl How loudly they talk!
How you long for the ministries of
home; / knew one such who went
away from one of the brightest of
homes for several weeks business alb
sence 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.
lie 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 little while longer
He said: Il am willing to die, but
not alone" But the pulses futtered.
the eyes closed, and the heart
stopped. The express trains met in
the midnight; wife and daughters GO
ing observation-disclosures remains of hus-
band and father coming eastward. Oh,
1t was a sad, pitiful, overwhelming
spectaclel 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. The room may be very 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 cheer.
Loving lips to read the comforting
promises of Jesus.
In our last dreadful war, men cast
the cannon; men fashioned the mus
kerry; men cried to the hosts: For
ward, march," men hurled their bat
talions on the sharp edges of the enc
my, crying: Charged charger but
woman scraped the lint; woman ad-
ministered the cordials; 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 a spade. We greeted the
general 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 Mar
garet 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 filed the air with
their "hurrahP'-of Mrs. Hodge, who
came from Chicago with blankets and
with pillows, until the men shouted:
Three cheers for the Christian COM
missionl 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; tell
her to bear my loss like the Christian
wife of a Christian soldiers" and of
Mrs. Shelton, into whose face the con-
valescent soldier looked and SAID:
your grapes and cologne cured me-"
Men did their work with shot and
shell, and carbine and howitzer; woTs-
en- did their work with socks, and
slippers, and bandages, and warm
drinks, and Scripture texts, and gentle
stockings of the hot temples, and
stories of that land where they never
have any pain. Men knelt down over
the wounded and said: ION which
side did you fight?" Women knelt
down over the wounded and said:
where are you hurt? What nice
thing can make for you to eat? What
makes you cry?" Tonight while we
men are sound asleep in our beds,
there will be a light in yonder loft;
fhare will ha srroanin0 IN that darLr