SISTER AGNES LEAVES ST. BERNARD’S.
So all the more we need be strong
Against this false and seeming right;
Which none the less is deadly wrong
Because it glitters, clothed in light.
_Procter._
The prince who asked, “Who is she?” when anything went wrong in his
kingdom, was not far out in his estimate of the power of woman for
mischief; but he would have been wiser had he asked the same question
when he heard of any new movement for good. The fact is that, as
Coventry Patmore says, women have the power, would they but use it, to
make “brutes men, and men divine.” When the selfishness, the
thoughtless cruelty, and the greed of men have culminated in some
deep-seated, persistent social wrong, it may be taken for granted that
the evil will not be uprooted till a woman’s whole-hearted, unselfish
courage has taken it in hand. Mr. Ruskin somewhere complains that “no
one pays the least attention to what he says on social topics, except a
few nice girls, and they can do nothing.” He should not have said that,
because he knows better—no one more certainly than he—that his “few
nice girls” will bring to pass all that is good in his teaching sooner
or later.
Women mend what men mar;—everything, from our linen to our laws.
Sister Agnes knew all this—knew that it was just as certainly some
woman’s place to set to work and remedy this shameful abuse of
Charity’s holiest work, as it would be her work to restore peace and
order to a home wrecked by a man’s selfishness and violence. The more
she thought of the matter, the more indignant she felt that no man
could be brought to see the awful wrong of exploiting the miseries and
diseases of the poor for the purpose of adorning the brows of men with
academic laurels. Surely never in the history of this world was so
cruel a mockery of charity! Asked for bread, to give a stone! What was
this but to give disease for health, maiming for cure, torture for
ease, and death for life? And then to go round to those who, in the
name of the Healer, were ever ready to sacrifice their substance and
give alms out of their penury, for the means to bring more victims to
the altar of their Kali! Did not every sister and nurse in the place,
with feminine penetration, see through all these shams? Did they not
revolt in their souls, day by day and hour by hour, at this mockery of
mercy, till, by long use, they forgot to feel the wrong? She had
mentioned her misgivings to many men, clergymen chiefly, who saw it
all—saw just where the mischief lay, but thought it inseparable from
the work that had to be done; knew of its existence, but could see no
remedy for it. They declared that every good thing in this world must
be bought with a price. But was not this price too high to pay? They
did not know, they did not think anybody could even set about
estimating that. They did not like to encourage thought or discussion
of the question—money was hard enough to get for the hospitals as it
was. Breathe but the least on the idea of their utility, and the
charitable public, all too ready to withhold its gifts, would cease to
subscribe. Hospitals were costly things to establish, still costlier to
maintain efficiently. “Let be,” they said; “we can do nothing.”
Men always do talk like that in face of such difficulties, but,
fortunately, their arguments never yet held back a woman who had set
her heart on a great work of love.
Sister Agnes gradually evolved an idea of a great hospital richly
endowed and well officered, ruled by a competent governing body, and
animated throughout by one idea—_to heal by the shortest and most
effectual methods, the sufferers who sought its portals_; to take as
the guiding principle of all the work done there, _not_ possibly better
methods for better patients, but the best existing methods for the
present occupants of its beds. The motto of the place to be, “Honour
all men.” A revolution indeed! A work of such magnitude that its
inception seemed Quixotic!
Things, however, had come to this pass that she could no longer retain
her position at St. Bernard’s; and feeling that she could do nothing
there to elaborate her scheme, she left the hospital, and took time to
consider what her next step should be. She did not leave a bit too
soon; things had been rather unpleasant of late. There were several
patients who, at a hint from her, had taken themselves off from St.
Bernard’s with all their limbs about them, who would have gone out
minus one or other of these useful appendages had they remained much
longer, and the loss of these valuable opportunities had very properly
been charged to Sister Agnes’s account. She was accused of not showing
sufficient interest in the welfare of the place.