The Manning times. [volume] (Manning, Clarendon County, S.C.) 1884-current, 1895-07-03
FULL OF GOOD WORKS.
REV. DR.. TALMAGE'S SERMON AT BE-
AT2lCE, NEB.

hEV. In. iHLnrtN@ - ONl"OiN ~ DE-
ATRICE, NEB.
He Chooses for His Subject SISTERS OF
Charity" and Di>courscs EIoqently Upon
tho Glorious Rights Vouchsafed to Wo-
men and the Way They Pursue Them.
BEATRICE, Neb., June 23.-In his
sermon for today Rev. Dir. Talmage,
who is now on his summer western
tour, has chosen subject that must
awaken the sympathies of all lovers
of humanity-viz, Sisters of Chari-
tv." The text selected was Acts tx,
SO, This woman was full of good
works and almsdeeds which she did. :"
Starting now where left off last
Sabbath in reciting woman's opportu-
mites, 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 sickbcds,, What
shall we do with them: Shall man,
with his rough hand and heavy foot
and impatient bearing, minister: No.
He cannot soothe the pain. He cannot
quiet the nerves. He knows not where
to let the light. His hand is not steady
enough to pour out the drops. He is
not wakeful enough to be a watcher.
The Lord God sent Miss Dix into the
Virginia hospitals, and the Maid Of
Saragossa to appease the wounds Of
the battlefield, and has equipped wife,
mother and daughter for this delicate
but tremendous mission. You have
known men who have despised wom-
an, but the moment disease fell upon
them they did not send for their
friends at the bank. or their partner
in business, or their worldly associ-
ates. Their first cry was, Take me to
my wife" The dissipated young man
at the college SCOTS at the idea of be-
ing under home influences, but at the
first blast Of the typhoid fever on his
cheek he says. Where is mother:'
Walter Scott wrote partly in satire
and partly in compliment when lie
said:
O woman, in our hour Of ease,
Uncertain, coy ard hard to please.
When pain aud anguish wiring the brow,
A miniStering angel thoui
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-throw-
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 a strange hotel,
once in awhile men coming to look at
YOU. holding their hand over their
mouth for fear that they will catch
the contagion. How roughly they
turn you in bed. How loudly they
talk. How you long for the ministers
OF home. l knew one such who went
away from one of the brightest Of
homes for several weeks business alb
sence at the west. \ 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 bribe the doctor to
make him live a little longer. He
said, Il am willing to die, but not
alone" But the pulses futtered, the
ewes closed ard the heart stopped.
The express train met in the midnight
wife and daughters going westward,
lifeless remains 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 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 bathe 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 musketry,
men cried to the hosts: Forward!
March," men hurled their battallions
on the sharp edges of the enemy, cry
ing: Charge: Charge" but woman
scraped the lint, woman administered
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 goou
to be written anywhere, save IN the
of heaven, of Mrs. Brady,
who came down among the sick in the
swamps of the Chickahomlny; OF An
ME Ross, in the cooper shop hospital;
of Margaret Buckinridge, who came
to men who had been for weeks with
their wounds undressed, some Of them
frozen to the ground, and when she
turned Lne1Q over luOSc llldL lloo al
arm left waved it and filed the air
with their "Hurrah,' Of Mrs. Hodge,
who came from Chicago with blank
cts and with pillows until the men
shouted: Three cheers for the Chris
tian commission God bless the wom-
en- 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
ike the Christian wife Of a Christian
soldier and of Mrs. Shelton, into
whose face the convalescent soldier
looked and said, Your grapes and
cologne cured me; Men did their
worE; with shot and she'll and carblne
and howitzer; women did their work
with socks and slippers and bandages
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