Orleans County monitor. [volume] (Barton, Vt.) 1872-1953, 1895-06-24
SISTERS OF CHARITY.
REV. DR.. TALMAGE CONTINUES THE
SUBJECT OF WOMEN'S RIGHTS.

woman's Right to Care For the Sick. to
Minister to the Distressed, to Plead For
Divine Forgiveness and to Wear the
Crown of Glory In Heaven.
BEATRICE, Neb., June Cd In his ser
mon for today, Rev. DR.. Talmage, who
is now on his summer western tour, has
chosen a subject that must awaken the
sympathies Of all lovers of humanity
viz, "SisterS of Charity The text Sc
lected was Acts tx, Sc, 'This woman
was full Of good works and almsdeeds
which she did,
Starting now where I left off last
Sabbath in reciting woman Opportuni-
ties, 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 thou
sands of sickbeds! What shall we do
with them? Shall man, with his rough
hand and heavy foot and impatient be;.T
ing, minister? No. He cannot soOtLc the
pain. He cannot quiet the nerves. E.c
knows not where to set the light. {.
hand is not steady enough to rOCr e:J
the drops. He is not wakeful cuo-. i /,
be a watcher The Lord God s.sIit J -
Dix into the Virginia hospitals, ;,;''i II.
Maid of SaragOssa to appease Il = '.,---,;'t
of the battlefield, and has eC,,i v.-->
mother and daughter fot thu; delicate
but tremendous mission. You have
known men who have despised women,
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 associates. Their first cry
was, ''Take me to my wifer' The dis
sipated young man at the college SCOTS
at the idea Of being under home infu-
ences, but at the first blast of the ty-
phoid fever on his cheek he says, "Where
is mother:" Walter Scott wrote partly
in satire and 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,
4 minlstering angel thou!
A Pathetic Scriptura1 Story.
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 misunderstanding
his hands on his temples ana crying 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. It is an aw-
full thing to De i'll away from home i'll
strange hotel. once in awhile men COM
ing 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 ministries of
home! I knew 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 deathbed 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 little while
longer. He said, II am willing to die,
but not alone. But the pulses futter-
ed, the eyes closed and the heart stop
ped. The express trains met i'll the mid
night-wife and daughters going west
ward, lifeless remains of husband and
father coming eastward. Oh, it was q
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
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 musketry;
men cried to the hosts, Forward,
march!'' 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 soil
tary burial attended by herself and four
men with 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 Margaret 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 filled the air with
their 'Hurrah % of Mrs Hodge, who
came from Chicago with blankets and
with pillows, until the men shouted:
''Three cheers for the Christian COM
mission God bless the women at
home;'' then, sitting down to take the
last message ''Tell my wife not to fret