The Bolivar bulletin. (Bolivar, Tenn.) 1888-1946, 1901-10-18
SUBSCRIPTION: S1.OO Per Year

take take ucQlCAuCs dS W C4i az
take prayer. There is a great deal or
common sense in what the poor wom-
an said to the city missionary when he
was telling her how she ought to love
God and serve Him. "Oh," she said, eff
you were as poor and cold as am and
as hungry you could think of moth
ing else"
could give you the history in min
ute of one of the best friends / ever
had. Outside of my own family l never
had a better friend. He welcomed me
to my home at the west. He was OF
splendid personal appearance, but he
had an ardor of soul and warmth of
affection that made me love him like
a brother. / saw men coming out OF
the saloons and gambling hells, and
they surrounded my friend, and they
took him at the weak point-his social
nature-and L saw him going down,
and 1 had a fair talk with him, for !
never yet saw a man you could not
talk with on the subject of his habits
if you talked with him in the right
way. 1 said to him: ''Why don't you
give up your bad habits and become
a Christian?" 1 remember now just
how he looked, leaning over his coun-
ter, as he replied: 81 wish 1 could. Oh,
sir, 1 should like to be Christian, but
l have gone so far astray l can't get
backi" So the time went on. After
awhile the day of sickness came. L
was summoned to his sickbed. has
tened. 1t took but few moments to
get there. 1 was surprised as l went
in. l saw him in his ordinary dress,
fully dressed, lying on top of the bed.
1 gave him my hand, and he seized it
convulsively, and said: 'Oh, how glad
1 am to see you! Sit down there"
1 sat down, and he said: ''Mr. Talmage,
just where you sit now my mother sat
last night. She has been dead 20 years.
Now, don't want you to think 1 am
out of my mind or that 1 am supersti-
tious; but, sir, she sat there last night,
and she said: Roswell, / wish you
would do better-I wish you would
do better. L said: Mother, wish L
could do betetr; try to do better, but
1 can't. Mother, you used to help me.
Why can't you help me now? And, sir,
/ got out of bed, for it was a reality
and 1 went to her and threw my arms
around her neck, and / said: Mother.
1 will do better, but you must help. L
can't do this alone.'" 1 knelt and
prayed. That night his soul went to
the Lord who made it.
Arrangements were made for the
obsequies. The question was raised
whether they should bring him to the
church. Somebody said: you cannot
bring such dissolute man as that into
the church" L said: ''You will bring
him in church; he stood by me when
he was alive, and 1 will stand by him
when he is dead. Bring him. AS
stood in the pulpit and saw them car
rying the body up the aisle 1 felt as if
1 could weep tears of blood. On one
side of the pulpit sat his little child of
eight years, sweet, beautiful little
girl, that 1 had seen him hug convul-
sively in his better moments. He put
on her all jewels and gave her all pic
lures and toys, and then he would go
away, as if bounded by an evil spirit.
to his cups and the house of iniquity-
a fool to the correction of the stocks.
She looked up wonderingly. She knew
not what it meant. She was not old
enough to understand the sorrow of
men who had ruined him; they were
the men who had poured the worm
wood into the orphans cup; they were
the men who had bound him hand and
foot. I knew them. How did they
seem to feel? Did they weep? No.
Did they say: "What a pity that so
generous a man should be destroyed?"
No. Did they sigh repentingly over
what they had done? No. They sat
there, looking as vultures look at the
carcass of a lamb whose heart they
have ripped out. So they sat and
looked at the coffin lid, and / told them
the judgment of God upon those who
had destroyed their fellow. Did they
reform? 1 was told they were in the
places of iniquity that night after my
friend was laid in lakewood cemetery,
and they blasphemed and they drank.
Oh, how merciless men are, especially
after they have destroyed you'll Do
not look to men for comfort or help.
But there is a man who will not re-
form. He says: 81 won't reform "
Well, then, how many acts are there
in a tragedy? 1 believe there are five
acts in a tragedy.
Act the first of the tragedy: A
young man starting off from home;
parents and sisters weeping to have
him go; wagon rising over the hill;
farewell kiss flung back. Ring the. bell,
and let the curtain fall.
Act the second: The marriage altar;
full organ; bright lights; long white
veil trailing through the aisle; prayer
and congratulat ions and exclamation
of ''How well she looks!"
Act the third: A woman waiting
for staggering steps; old garments
stuck into the broken window pane;
marks of hardship on the face; the
biting of the nails of bloodless fingers;
neglect and cruelty and despair. Ring
the bell, and let the curtain drop.
Act the fourth: Three graves in a
dark place-grave of the child that
died for lack of medicine, grave of the
wife that died of broken heart, g9 J
of the man that died of dissipation! ga,
what a blasted heath with three
gravesl Plenty of weeds, but no flow
ers. Ring the bell, and let the curtain
drop.
Act the fifth: A destroyed souls
eternity; no light, no music; blackness
of darkness forever. But cannot
look any longer. Woe, wool close
my eyes to this last act of the trag-
edy. Quick, quicki Ring the bell, and
let the curtain drop. Rejoice, o young
man, in thy youth, and let thy heart re-
joice in the days of thy youth, but
know thou that for all these things God