The Bolivar bulletin. (Bolivar, Tenn.) 1888-1946, 1898-04-01

ever Here is man God fash
toned to make pillow. There is man
God fashioned to make a constitution.
The man who makes the plow is just
Is honorable as the man who makes
the constitution. There is a woman
who was made to fashion robe, and
yonder is one intended to be a queen
and wear it. 1t seems to me that in
the one case as in the other, God APP
points the sphere, and the needle is just
as respectable in His sight as the scep-
ter. do not know but that the world
would long ago have been saved If
some of the men out of the ministry
were in it, and some of those who are
in it were out of it. l really
think that One-half of the world may
be divided into two quarters-thOsew who
have not found their sphere and those
who, having found it, are not willing
to stay there. How many are strug-
Cling for position little higher than
that for which God intended them.
The bondswoman wants to be mistress.
Hagar keeps crOwding Sarah. The
small wheel of a watch which beauti-
fully went treading its golden pathway
wants to be the balance wheel, and the
sparrow, with chagrin drops into the
brook because it can not, like the
egle put circle under the sun.
In the Lords army we all want to be
brigadier generals! The sloop says:
More mast, more tonnage, more can
vas. Oh, that were topsail schooner,
or a full-rigged brig, or a Cunard
steamer" And so the world is filed
with cries of discomfort, because we are
not willing to stay in the place where
God put US and intended us to be. My
friends, be not too proud to do any
thing God tells you to do; for the lack
of a right disposition in this respect the
world is strewn with wandering
Hagars and Ismaels. God has given
each one of us work to do. You
carry a scuttle of coal up that dark
alley. You distribute that Chri stan
tract. You give 81 $1,000 to the mission
airy cause. You for Is years sit with
chronic rheumatism. displaying the
beauty of Christian submission
Whatever God calls you to whether
it win kissing or huzza;
whether to walk under triumphal
arch or lift the sOt out of the ditch;
whether it is to preach on a Pentecost
or tell some wanderer of the street of
the mercy of the Christ of Mary Magda-
lene; whether it be to weave a garland
for laughing child on a spring morn
ing and call her May queen, or to
comb out the tangled locks of waif
of the street, and cut up one of your
old dresses to fit her out for the sane
tuary-do it, and do it right away
Whether it be a crown or a yoke, do
not fdget. Everlasting honors upon
those who do their work, and do their
whole work, and are contented in the
sphere in which God has put them
while there is wandering, and exile,
and desolation, and wilderness for dis
cOntented Hagar and Ishmael.
Again, l find in this oriental scene
a lesson of sympathy with a woman
when she goes forth trudging in the
desert. What a great change it was
for this IIagar! There was the tent,
and all the surroundings of Abraham
house, beautiful and luxurious, no
doubt. Now she is going out into the
hot sands of the desert. Oh, what
change it was! And in our day we
often see the wheel of fortune turn.
Here is some one who lived in the very
bright home of her father. She had
everything possible to administer to
her happiness-plenty at the table,
music in the drawing-rOOm, well
come at the door. She is led
forth into life by some one who can not
appreciate her. dissipated soul
comes and takes her out in the desert.
Cruelties blot out all the lights of that
home circle. Harsh words wear out
her spirits. The high hope that shone
out over the marriage altar while the
ring was being set and the vows given,
and the benediction pronounced, have
all faded with the orange blossoms,
and there she is to-day broken hearted,
thinking of past joys and present desc
latiOn and coming anguish. Hagar in
the wilderness!
Here is a beautiful home. You can
not think of anything that can be
added to it. For years there has not
been the suggestion of single trouble.
Bright and happy children fill the
house with laughter and song. Books
to read. Pictures to look at. Lounges
to rest on. Cup of domestic Joy full
and running over. Dark night drops.
Pillow hot. Pulses f1utter. Eyes close
And the foot whose w1lI-known steps
on the door-sill brought the whole
household out at eventide crying,
Fathers coming.' will never sound
on the doOr-sill again. A long, deep
grief plowed through all that bright
ness of domestic life. Paradise lost.
Widowhood. Hagar in the wilderness.
How often is it we see the weak arm
of woman conscripted for this battle
with the rough world. Who is she,
going down the street in the early light
of the morning, pale with exhausting
work, not half slept out with the slum-
bers of last night, tragedies of suffer
ing written all over her face, her lus-
terless eyes looking far ahead, as
though for the coming of some other
trouble? Her parents called her Mary,
or Bertha, or Angnes, on the day when
they held her up to the font and the
Christian minister sprinkled on the in
fants face the washings of a holy bap-
tism. Her name is changed now. L
hear it in the shuttle of the WORKOUT
shoes. l see it in the figure of the
faded calico. / find it in the Inca
ments of the woe-5egone countenance.
Not Mary, nor Bertha, nor Agnes, but
Hagar in the wilderness. May God
have mercy upon woman in her tolls,
her struggles, her hardships, her deso1,
lation, and may the great heart of Di-
vine sympathy inclose her forever!
Again, L find in this oriental scene
the fact that every mother leads forth
tremendous deStinies
You say: THAT isn't an unusual
scene. a mother LEADING her child bv