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The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, November 18, 1885, Image 3

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Queen Victoria's Coronation.
Grevillc writes in his memories of
Queen Victoria's coronation: "The different
actors in the ceremonial were very
imperfect in their parts, and had
neglected to rehearse them. Lord John
Thynne, who officiated for the Dean of
Westminster, told me that nobody knew
what was to be done except the archbishop
and himself (who had rehearsed),
Lord Willoughby (who is experienced
in these matters) and the Duke of Weilin
gton, and consequently there was a I
i\ifflr?n 1t-v and embarrassment.
and the queen never knew what she was
to do next. They made her leave her
chair and enter into St. Edward's chapel
before the prayers were concluded, much
to the discomfiture of the archbishop.
She said to John Thynne: Tray tell mc
what I am to do, for they don't know;'
and at the end, when the orb was put
into her hand, she said to him: 'What
am I to do with it?' 'Your majesty is to
carry it,if you please,iu your hand.' 'Am
I?' she said: 'it is very heavy.'
Thr> rnhv- rinr was made for her
? -ST *
little finger instead of the fourth, on
which the rubric prescribes that it should
be put. When the archbishop was to
put it on, she extended the former, but
be said it must be 011 the latter. She
eaid it was too small, and she could not
get it on. He said it was right to put
it there, and, as he insisted, she yielded,
but had first to take off her other rings,
and then this was forced on, but it hurt
ber very much, and as soon as the ccremonv
was over she was obliged to bathe
ber finger in iced water in order to get it
off. The noi3e and confusion were very
great when the medals were thrown
about by Lord Surrey, everybody scrambling
with all their might and main to get
them, and none more vigorously than the
Maids of Honor. There was a gre\t
demonstration of applause when the
Duke of Wellington did homage. Lord
Rolle, who is between eight}- and ninety,
fell down as he was getting up the steps
of the throne. His first impulse was to
rise, and when afterward he came again
to do homage she said, "Alav I not get
up and meet him?" and then rose from
the throne aud advanced down one or
two of the steps to prevent his coming
up, an act of graciousness aud kindness
which made a great sensation.
Babies' Shoes.
"Tell me something about babies'
shoes. How are they numbered?"
1 A ifKn r\n rm t* nf KnVw.
" i> U. *? 13 bug IJJ.OW ouvvy vuw
hood. No 0 has a solt sole of white kid
and pasteboard, and is the successor of
the knit wool boots that are sold for
babies in long dresses. Nos. 1, 2 and 3
bare what is culled the turned sole,
sewed together on the wrong side and
turned out. There are from four to live
buttons on the side, and a b.'ack tassel is
now fastened at the top in front. The
latest is to have a vamp of French kid
with culf uppers, or, what is still better,
i */ i . j
8 Dau-UO.NL'U 1UUUU UUKj Uji|jtu
patent leather."
"Is there no change in the shape of
child ren's shoes?"
"None. There can't well be because
the sole mu-st be sufficiently broad to
stand the wear and tear. Square toes
arc preferred to round, because they allow
freer development to the toes. The
spring heel, which was introduced nearly
two years ago, is worn as early as two
years of age, and has recently become
fashionable for girls in their teen 3. It is
nothing but a slip of leather inserted between
the sole and that part of the shoe
pressed by the wearer's heel. It is seldom
that a smaller than a No. 8 is made
with a regular heel, and that is on the
rnminon sonse nlan. low and broad.
These and the large sizes have a higher
top than has been usual for several
years. Children would have betterlooking
feet if they had wiser mothers,
and the fault lies in the first shoes worn.
One pair too short will ruin the feet, no
matter how loose subsequent ones may
be."?New I rovk Mail and Express.
Animal Courage.
The sagacious horse soon learns to
despise a timid rider. The confidence of
a horse in a firm rider and his own courage
is great, as was conspicuously
evinced in the case of an Arab possessed
by the late General Sir Kobert It. Gillespie,
wlio, being present on the racecourse
at Calcutta during one of the
great Hindoo festivals, when several
hundred thousand people assembled to
witness all kinds of shows, was suddenly
alarmed by the shrieks of the
prowd, and informed that a tiger had escaped
from his keeper. Sir Robert immediately
called for his horse, and
grasping a boar spear which was in the
hands of one of the crowd, rode to attack
his formidable enemy. The tiger
was probably amazed at fiuding himself
in the middle of such a number of shrieking
beings flying from him in all directions;
but the moment he perceived
Sir Kobert he crouched with the attitude
of preparing to spring, and that instant
tliT? gallant soldier passed his horse in a
leap over the tiger's back and stuck the
spear through his spine. The horse was
" a small gray, atterward sent home by
him a present to the Prince Regent.?
London Society.
A Sheep Intoxicant.
In reference to the statement published
elsewhere in regard to '200 bucks being
poisoned in Eastern Oregon, a gentleman
who has extensive interests in that section
and who has spent several years on
the sheep ranges there, gives the following
information: There is a low wccu
growing on certain ranges, which, wheu
eaten by the sheep in the fall, proves
fatal. Tha sheep run on these ranges in
the spring without damage. Then they are
driven to the mountains for the summer,
and when they come back on the range
in the fall this poison weed is ripe and
the .seeds have fallen on the ground. The
Sheep feed ou the weed and probably
the seeds. Presently their ears droop,
they froth at the mouth, and their brain
is affected. After standing for a while
in a dazed condition they start off in
j any direction they happen to be headed
{ and keep going till they walk over a
i, cliff or into a gully or fall dead. They
caunot be turned or stopped, but walk
off a bluff as composedly as if it was
level ground. So far as I know there
is no cure for sheep which have eaten
* ^~ ^ I Awf api n y*r\ r> /\f
IXIIS "WCCU. V. illtit; uuu uui su3 me uul>
poisoned by it.? Portland Oregonian.
The Tale of a Fish.
When a man doth wish to angle,
A hook like this he loves to dangle:
J
He has a line so good and strong,
And catches a fish about so long:
h S
Before he gets home the fish doth grow (?)
&nd he tells his friends that it stretched out
so:
b k
But his friends who have a-fishing been,
Know that the man has lied like sin,
And thav simply sit and smile and grin.
00 00 00 00
III!
W
r ?Middlebovo News.
??i*?L^afci i i irr TiTum h i nwra
THE HOME DOCTOR.
A Mmple Remedy.
Lard as an application lor bruises is
considered indispensable at our house. j
if put on as soon as possible, it will!
usually remove all soreness, and prevent !
the discoloration that follows such a
hurt. If the bruise is severe it may not
cure it entirely, but will help it in any
case. A blow on the face followed by a
black and blue spot is especially annoying,
but unless so near the eyes as to
Bettle blaclc under them, lard will prevent
such discoloration. Try it when
next you are so unfortunate as to get a
bruise.
I
Burns.
Advice on the best way to act when
the clothing is on lire has so often been
given iu print that it seems as if everyone
must know how to act iu this terrible
emergency; yet one can scarcely take up
a newspaper without seeing that some !
unfortunate woman lias perished because !
she ran about screaming for help instead
of rolling on the floor and trying to i
smother the flames. It is of the greatest;
importance ihul luu muutu ouvuiu w .
kept shut, so that the flames may not bo j
breathed in. If there is water at hand 1
to dash on the fire, it can be easily ex- J
tinguished, but too often there is none;!
then seize the first woolen article that!
can be caught up?a shawl, overcoat, |
heavy table cover, rug or piece of carpet j
?and wrap it tightly around the person, !
if possible, roll her over and over on the j
floor, as this crushes out the flame. Firo j
cannot burn without air; when the supply
is cut off it must go out. If the suf- i
fercr seems extremely weak aud exhausted
by the shock, give a few spoonfuls
of brandy and water. If the feet)
arc cold, apply hot bricks or bottles of j
lint t\.-nfor tn thorn. Cut the clothes off I
the injured parts; do not attempt to re-1
move them in any other way. If the J
skin is not much broken, mix in a bowl
a thick paste of common baking soda,
spread it thickly on linen and lay it on
the burns. As it begins to dry, wet by
squeezing water on it without removing
it; if it is kept thoroughly damp, there
is usually little pain. When there is a
large raw surfacc, cover with ru thick
layer of cosmohue, oiled rags, or simply
wet cloths; if the air can be excluded the
smarting will ccase. A burn is dangerous
in proportion to its extent rather than
its depth. In all severe cases, send for a
doctor at once. Very nourisning food
must be given to sustain the system while
the tissue that was lost is being replaced.
Cookery ffor Colds*
A Pleasant Dk augiit for a Cold.?
f>?:i ? nf niin^d nf cm la f in p in
L>Ui I a ljUUl ICl \J l i.hn VUUWV V* ?
a pint of new milk. Reduce it to half
the quantity, add sugar to taste, and a
drop of almond essence. This should
be taken at bedtime, not too warm.
Arri/e Water.?This is a refreshing
beverage when a bad cold has the elTect
of making one thirsty. It is especially
appreciated by children. Cut four slowly*
baked apples in quarters, put them in
a jug with a couple of cloves. Pour a
quart of boiling water on them. In
three hours strain and sweeten to taste.
Lemon "Whey.?This is often recommended
to excite perspiration after a
chill, and i3 less heating than the white
wine wocy sometimes given for that purpose.
Pour into boiling new milk as
much lemon juice as will make a small
quantity quite clear. Add enough hot
water to make it a pleasant acid, and
sweeten to taste. Strain and drink hot
before going to bed.
Rice Caudle.?This is an excellent
remedy for any case where a sudden
-U:n /-*,? H i-irrhfPJl Soak
jinn uua uivu^ub W4-*.
some rice for an hour in cold water,
strain it, and put two tablespoonfuls of
the rice into a pint or rather more of
new milk. Simmer till it will pulp
through a sieve. Put the pulp and
milk into a saucepan, with a bruised
clove, a bit of cinnamon, and loaf sugar
to taste. Simmer ten minutes more. If
too thick, add a little milk. Serve with
exceedingly thin strips of dry toast.
Oatmeal Gruel.?Mix two tablespoonfuls
of fine fresh oatmeal with a
pinch of salt and a little cold milk; '
when quite smooth, gradually pour into
it half a pint more. Set it over a clear
fire in a lined saucepan, and stir without
intermission. Many cooks let the gruel
stand to simmer at the side of the fire,
only stirring occasionally, but this is a
great mistake. To be good, gruel must
be stirrred the whole time. After it
comes to boiling point, pour in another
quarter of a pint of cold milk, and boil
for twenty minutes. If approved
sweeten the gruel with loaf sugar, and
flavor it with a pinch of nutmeg and a
small shred of cinnamon. If it is not
approved, serve it plain. mere 13
nothing more delicious than a basin of
well made gruel, and nothing more unpleasant
to take, or even to look at, than
the badly made gruel so often sent up to
an invalid by a lazy cook. Gruel is also
a most soothing remedy for a bad cold.
Sparrows as Food.
The English sparrows are recommended
by the New York Experiment station as
an excellent food. The same recommendation
has been previously and
frequently given in these columns, and
the suggestion has been made that
farmer's boys should turn their ready
shotguns upon the too abundant pests.
Sparrows are a regular article of consumption
in France, and travelers in that
couutry and in Germany may recall ine
small, clean, white cloth covered stands
in the markets upon which [these birds,
ready trussed for the cook, are exposed
for sale in large numbers. In what shape
they appear on the table, however, no
traveler can probably tell, for French
cookery is well known to be a scries of
wonderful transformations. But the
American housewife may serve them as
quail on toast, roasted, fried, stewed, or
in pies, and in short in any way in which
a most excellent and well flavored bird
can be cooked. They may be made a
substitute for reed birds, for quail, and I
for rail, but the country birds which
feed upon 'wheat and other grains arc
here refered to and not the city birds,
I whose unclean food is rather an object
against any other use for them than as
food for cats.?New York Times.
Twins Who Think Alike.
Watkinsville boasts as many pretty
girls as any town in Georgia to its popu
JULIUI1, null I1UUK ill i; Ilium I.mm
the twiu sisters, Misses Sallie and Mollie
"VVoodis. These young ladies resembie
each other so nearly that even their intimate
friends arc often at a loss to tell
"t'other from which," and they have a
good deal of fun at the expense of young
men who mistake which sister they are
speaking to. They arc devotedly attached
to each other and have never had
a cross word. In fact not only their
taste3 and wishes, but even thoughts
flow in the same channel. It is a singular
fact, but nevertheless true, that when
one's mind dwells upon a subject the
| other's thoughts are exactly the same.
This has been tested time and again by
friends calling one at a time aside and
asking her thoughts, and they are found
to be identical.?Savaiuiah JSTeios.
111 Tim irpi."--.? r*"TirBTMn
FACTS FOK THE CURIOUS.
A naturalist, who has just returned
from Spain, says that the natives keep
locusts in cages for the sake of their music.
A great many coins, English shillings,
six-penccs, coppers aud one Canadian
piece, were found in Jumbo's stomach
by the gentleman having charge of his
remains.
Easter of next year falls on St. Mark's
Dav. April 23, its latest possible date.
The last time this occurred was in 173G
(old stylo), and it will not so fall again
until 1043.
It used to be said that the mandrake
was watched over by Satan, and that if
it were pulled at certain times with certain
invocations the evil spirit would
appear to do the bidding of the prac.
In 1495 Maximilian put under the ban
of his empire, and fined to th6 amount
of 2,000 marks gold, every city or individual
who accepted or gave a challenge
to private war. This was the formal,
though not the final, close of the
right of "dillidation," as it was called.
The word quoted implied a breaking of
faith or peace, and thus war between
individuals.
It is said that Crcsar found 320,000
persons, or nearly three-quarters of the
whole population of the city of Home,
on the roil of public succor; five modii
n..??, } r*nnn/Is'i wfirfl
UI UlCau \\Ji auuuu ui vj -Ma.k
distributed to each person per month.
Under Augustus there were 200,000 persons
in Koine receiving "out door" relief
from the authorities.
The diver of the Persian gulf or of
Ceylon attaches a weight of some twenty
pounds to his feet to aid in his descent,
and carries seven or eight pounds more
of ballast in his belt. He protects both
eyes and ears with oiled cotton, bandages
his mouth and goes down some
forty feet with a rope. He remains down
some fifty-three to eighty seconds, and
helps himself up again by the rope.
The inhabitants of Nova Scotia were
more in favor of the struggling Americans
in the days of the Revolution than
were those of Uanaaa. a large portion
of them seemed desirous of linking their
fortunes with the cause of the "Bostonians,"
as the American patriots were
called. They petitioned the continental
congress on the subject of union, and
opened communications with Washington;
and Massachusetts was more than
once asked to aid in revolutionizing the
province. But its weakness and distance
made such assistance impracticable.
The buildings which surrounded the
pub'.ic squares in ancient Iiome corresponded
in lavish magnilicence to the altars,
statues, dedicatory columns and
triumphal arches. Broad colonnades
with shops formed the enclosure, interrupted
by temples and courts of justice,
which can have differed but little in external
appearance from the sacred edifices.
Most important among their public
buildings were the basilicas, which in
name, purpose and form were derived
from Greek prototypes. As halls of justice
and places for commercial traffic
they may be regarded as covered extensions
of the open squares.
Pflvin? a Weddinar Fee.
The Rev. Mr. S., of Lowell, is as often
called upon as any other pastor in the
city to tie the conjugal knot.
Several years ago he was waited upon
one evening by a young man, a stranger,
who requested his presence at No. 40
Blank street.
He reached No. 40 Blank street in
good time, made known the object of
his visit and was introduced to a lodger
who turned out to be the party in question.
He invited the clergyman to
walk up to his room, when the landlady,
with that keen interest in things matri
moniai,cnaraciensui; 01 lemaic imuu,
tendered the use of her parlor for the
occasion.
The young man disappeared and shortly
returned, supporting on his arm a
comely young woman, whom he presented
to the minister and the landlady
as the bride-elect.
The twain were soon made one, in the
stately and impressive manner for which
our clergyman is noted, and the usual
awkward pause ensued.
The silence was broken by the groom,
who inquired of Mr. S. if he was fond of
dogs, and on being assured that he was,
the young man vanished to the upper
regions and returned, followed by a
small terrier.
This animal was put through a variety
of tricks, expert and amusing, and
the reverend gentleman then arose to
take his departure (and his fee).
- u:.? ? ?,UV.
'i'iie bridegroom assisiou mm uu nnu
his overcoatand remarked: "Well,now,
Mr. S., you've married me; that's your
trade. I showed my trick dog to you;
that's my trade. You usually get five
dollars for putting up your job, I get as
much for an evening's entertainment
with Nep, there; I guess -we are about
square, ain't we?"
Mr. S. assured the gentleman that the
existing relations between them were of
the squarest possible kind, and, expressing
a polite hope that the groom would
derive as much pleasure and profit by
his part of the transaction as he had
done from his, withdrew the gainer by
a new experience.?Detroit Free Press.
A Stable Tor 2,400 Horses.
The Broadway and Seveuth Avenue
Railway company, of New York, has a
stable at Fiftieth street which will cover
the largest number of horses under one
rnnf in tVti'q rmintrv. or 2.400. The I
feed of this regiment of horses consists
of hay, oats and com. A supply of
rock salt is also furnished. Each horse
receives about eight pounds of hay a day,
which with 2,400 horses meaus about
3,500 tons a yoar. This is choppcd up
fine by cutters run by an eighty-horse power
engine. The storeroom for feed contains
12,000 bushels of grain and is
filled up every three months. In mix!
ing, about 10,000 bushels of oats are put
i with 12,000 bushels of corn. In a room
where the nreparcd food is put a hori
zontal section shows a mass of feed tea
feet deep, consisting of layers of chopped
hay, ground corn and oats, which
are taken in the proportions desired and
are placed upon the lloor, where a constant
spray of water mingles with it to
[ enable its ready mixture. About 12,000
i pounds of rock salt in the lump are purchased
four times a year. Lumps are
placed in the horses1 mangers, where
they can lick it as they wish. Their
own taste for salt is considered the best
guide.
The Officers Passed Them.
A year or so ago a merchant vessel
was sent to Havana to bring back to the
Unite d States some shipwrecked sailors.
While there they obtained a lot of cheap
cigars, which they corded up in a great
pile on the deck. Over this pile, which
looked very much like a cord of wood,
they threw a lot of old sail cloth, and
when the customs officers asked them If
they had any dutiable goods on board
they pointed to this pile and said it contained
cigars. The customs officers
thought they were being guyed, and did
not look at them.
in. TiUim SERMONTHE
BLOOD.
Text: Hebrews ix., 23?"Without shedding
of blood is no remission."
John Gr. Whittier, the last of the greal
school of American poets that made the last
quarter of a century brilliant, asked me in
the White mouutains one morning, after
prayers in which I had given out Cowper'f
famous hymn about "The Fountain Filled
with Blood:" "Do you really believe that
there is a literal application of the blood of
Christ to the soul?" My negative reply then
is my negative reply now. The Bible statement
agrees with all physicians and all physiologists
and all scientists in saying that the
blood is tho life, and in the Christian religion
it means simply that Christ's life was given
for our life. Hence all this talk of men who t
say the Bible story of blood is disgusting,awl |
that they don't want what they call a \
'slaughter-house religion' only shows their I
incapacity or unwillingness to look through '
the figure of speech toward the thing signi- j
fied. The blood that on the darkest Friday i
the world ever saw oozed or trickled or j
poured from the brow and the side and the j
hands and the feet of the illustrious sufferer, j
back of Jerusalem, in a few hours coagulated
and driea up and forever disappeared,
and if men had depended on the application
of the literal blood of Christ there would not
have been a soul saved for the last eighteen
centuries. In order to understand this red
word of my text we only have to exercisa as
much common sense in religion as we do in
everything else. Pang for pang, hunger for
hunger, fatigue for fatigue, tear for tear,
blood for blood, life for life wo see every day
illustrated. The act of substitution is no
novelty, although I hear men talk as though
the idea of Christ's suffering substituted for
our suiiering were something abnormal,
something distressingly odd, something wildly
eccentric, a solitary episode in the world's
history when I could take you out into this
city and before sundown point you to five
hundred cases of subtitution and voluntary
suffering one in behalf or another.
At 2 o'clock to morrow afternoon go among
the places of business or toil. It will be no
difficult thing for you to find men who by
their looks show you that they are overworked.
They are prematurely old. They
are hastening rapidly toward their deceasa.
They have gone through crises in business
that shattered their nervous system and
pulled on the brain. They have a shortness
of breath and a pain in the back of the head,
and at nights an insomnia that alarms them.
Why are tiny drudging at business early
and late? For fun? No, it would be difficult
to extract any amusement out of that exhaustion.
Because they are avaricious? In
many cases, no. Because their own personal
expenses are lavish? No, a few hundred dollars
would meet all their wants. The simpie
fact is the man is enduring all that fatigue
and exasperation and wear and tear to keep
Lis home prosperous. There is an invisible
line reaching from that store, from that
bank, from that shop, from that scaffolding
to a quiet scene a few blocks, a few miles
away, and there is the secret of that business
endurance. He is simply the champion of a
homestead, for which he wins bread and
wardrobe and education and prosperity, and
in such battle ten thousand men fail. Of
ton business men whom I bury nine die of
overwork for others. Some sudden disease
finds them with no power of resistance and
they are gone. Life for life. Blood for
blood. Substitution.
At 1 o'clock to-morrow morning, the hour
when slumber is most uninterrupted and
most profound, walk amid the dwelling
houses of the city. Here and there you will
find a dim light, becausa it is the household
custom to keep a subdued light burning, but
most of the houses from base to top are as
dark as though uninhabited. A merciful
God has sent forth the archangel of sleep and
he puts his wings over the city. But yonder
is a clear light burning and outside on the
window casern ?nt a glass or pitcher containing
food for a sick child, tho food
set in the fresh air. This is the sixth night
that mother has sat up with that sufferer.
Bhe has to the last point obeyed the physician's
prescription, not giving a drop "too
much or too little or a moment too soon or too
late. She is very anxious, for she has buried
three children with the same disease and she
prays and weeps, each prayer and sob ending
with a kiss of the pale cheek. By dint of
Kinaness sne gets lae ntue one lurougn u:e
ordeal. After it is all over the mother is
taken down. Brain or nervous fever sets in
and one day she leaves the convalescent
child with a mother's blessing and gots up to
join the three in the kingdom of heaven.
Life for life. Substitution. The fact is that
there are an uncounted number of mothers
who after they have navigated a large family
of children through all the diseases of infancy
and got them fairly started up the
flowering slope of boyhood and girlhood have
only strength enough left to die. They fade
away. Some call it consumption, some call
it nervous prostration, some call it intermittent
or malarial disposition, but I call it
myrtyrdom of the domestic circle. Life for
life. Blood for blood. Substitution. Or
perhaps she lingers long enough to see a son
got on tbe wrong road, and his former kindness
becomes rough reply when she expresses
anxiety about him. But she goes right on
looking carefully after his apparel, remembering
his every birthday with some memento,
and when he is brought home worn
out with dissipation, nurses him till he gets
well and starts him again, and hopes, and
expects, and prays, and counsels, and suffers
until her strength gives out and she fails.
She is going, and attendants bending ever
her pillow ask her if she has any message to
leave, and she makes great effort to say
omething, but out of three or four minutes
nf {nrlipfin/if nffrftmnpna t.Vimr PAn rfttch but
thrqo words: "My poor boy I" The simple
fact is, she died for him. Life for life. Substitution.
About twjnty-four years ago there went
lorth from our homes hundreds of thousands
?f men to do battle for their country. All the
poetry of war soon vanished aud left them
nothing but the terrible prose. They waded
knee-deep in mud. They slept in snow-banks.
They marched till their cut feet tracked the
jarth. Thay were swindled out of their honsst
rations and lived on meat not lit for a
log. They had jaws fractured and eyes extinguished
and limbs shot away. Thousands
)f them cried for water as they lay dying on
th? field the night after the battle, and got it
lot. They were homesick, and received no
message from their loved ones. They died in
Darns, in bushes, in ditches, the buzzards of !
;he summer heat the only attendants on their
obsequies. No one but the infinite God who
cnows everything knows tiM ten-thousandth
part of the longth and breadth and depth
ind height of anguish of Northern and South>rn
battlefields. Why did these fathers loavo
;heir children and go to the front, and why
lid these young men, postponing the.carriage
lay, start out into the probabilities of never
!f>ininer back? For the country they died.
Life for life. Blood for blood. " Substitution. |
But we need not go so far. What is that
nonument in Greenwood? It is to the doctors
who fell in the Southern epidemics. Why |
jo? Were there not enough sick to be at- i
;endedin these Northern latitudes? Oh, yes;!
mt the doctor puts a few medical books in his
?alis3 and some vials of medicine and leavei!
lis patients here in the hands of other phyitcians
and takes the rail train. Before he
jets to the infected region he p ,sses crowded
ail trains, regular and extra, taking the fly- ;
ng and affrighted populations. He arrives in
i city over which a great horror is brooding.
He goes from couch to couch feeling of
pulse and studying symptoms and prescribing
day after day, night after night, until a
fellow-physician says: "Doctor, you had I
better go homo and rest; you look miserable." I
But be cannot rest while so many are suffer- :
iug. On and on until soma morning finds ;
him in a delirium in which he talks of home j
and then rises and says ho must go and lock ,
after those natieuts. Ho is told to lie down,
but he fights his attendants until he falls I
back, and is weaker and weakor, and dies for I
people with whom ho had no kinship and far j
away from his family, and is hastily put j
away in a strancer's tomb: and only the fifth j
nowf a nawcniinor lir?Q 11Q nf Sflrl'i" '
.... ?
fice, his name just mentioned among five. I
Yet he has toached the furthcrest height of I
sublimity in that three weeks of humanitarian
service. He goes straight as an arrow to the
bosom of him who said, "I was sick and ye
visited me." Life for life. Blood for blood.
Substitution.
In the legal profession I see the same principle
of self-sacrifice. In 1S4G William Freeman,
a pauperized and idiotic negro, was at
Auburn, N Y., on trial for murder. He had
slain tho entire Van Nost family. The foaming
wrath of the community could ba kept oft
of him only by armed constables. Who would
volunteer to be his counsel? No attorney
wanted to sacrifice his popularity by such an
ungrateful task. All were silent save one, a
lawyer with feeble voice that could hardly be
heard outside the bar, pale and thin and
, awkward. It wa? Will]am H. Seward who
? Mil MTTfT !!! II ?
jaw that the prisoner was idiotk and irreiponsible
and ought to be put in an asylum
rather than put to death, the heroic counsel
uttering these beautiful words: 'I speak now
in the hearing of a people who have prejudged
the prisoner and condemned me for
pleading in his behalf. He is a cenvict, a I
pauper, a negro, without intellect, sense or
emotion. My child with an affectionate
smile disarms my careworn face of its frown
whenever I cross my threshold. The beggar
in the street obliges me to give because he
says "God bless you!" as I pass. My dog
caresses me with fondness if I will but smile
on him. My horse recognizes me when I
fill his manger, but what reward, what
gratitude, what sympathy and affection can
I expect here? There the prisoner sits. Look
at him. Look at the assemblage around you.
Listen to their ill-suppressed censures and
their excited fears, and tell mn where anionc
ray neighbors or ray fellow men, where, even
in his heart. 1 can expect to find the sentiment,
the thought, not to say of reward or
acknowledgement, but even of recognition
? * * Gentlemen, you may think of
this evidence what you please, bring in what
verdict you can, but I asseverate before
heaven and you that to the best of my
knowledge and belief the prisoner at the bar
does not at this moment know why it is my
shadow falls on you instead of his own.' He
was sentenced to die, but the post-mortem
examination of the poor creature showed
to all the surgeons and to all the world that
the putilic were wrong and William H. Seward
was right, and that hard and stonj
step of obloquy in the Auburn court-room
was one step of the stairs of fame up which
he went to the top or to within one stej
of the top, that last denied him through
the treachery of American politics. Nothins
subllmer was ever seen in American courtroom
than William EL Seward, without regard,
standing between the fury of the populace
and the loathsome imbecile. Substitution!
In the realm of the fine arts there was as
remarkable an instance. A brilliant but hypercriticised
painter, Joseph William Turner
ivas met by a volley of abuse from all the art
galleries of Europe. His paintings which
have since won tli9 applause of all civilized
nations, "The Fifth Plague of J?gypc,"
"Fishermen on a Lee Shore in Squally
Weather," "Calais Pier," "The Sun Rising
Through Mist," and "Dido Building Carthage/'
were then targets for critics to shoot
at. In defense of this outrageously abused
man a young author of twenty-lour years, just
>ne year out of college, cam? forth with his
pen, and wrote the ablest and most famous esiays
on art that the world ever saw or will
ieo?John Ruskin's "Modern Painters." For
seventeen years this author fought the battles
5f the maltreated artist, and after in poverty
?nd broken-heartedness the painter bad died
ind the public tried to undo their cruelties
toward him by giving him a big funeral and
aurial at St. Paul's cathedral, his old-time
friend took out of a tin box l'J,000 pieces of
paper containing drawings by the old painter,
md through many weary and uncompensated
months assorted and arranged them for public
observation. PeoDle say John Ruskin in
ais old days is cross, misanthropic and morbid.
Whatever he may do that he ought not to
io and whatever he may say that he ought
aot to say betwean now and his death he will
save this world insolvent as far as it has any
capacity to pay this author's pen for its
jhivalric and Christian defenso of a poor
painter's pencil. John Ruskin for William
Turner. Blood for blood. Substitution.
What an exalting principle this wnich
eads one to sufl'er for another! Nothing so
kindles enthusiasm or awakens eloquence or
:hiines poetic canto or moves nations. That
principle is the dominant one in our religion
?Christ the martyr, Christ the celestial hero,
Dhrist the defender, Christ the substitute.
No new principle, for it was as old as human
nature, but now on a grander, wider, higher,
leeper and more world-resounding scale.
The shepherd-boy as champion for Israel,
with a sling toppled the giant of Philistine
braggadocio in the dust; but here is another
David who for all the armies of churches
nilitant and triumphant nuris tne i*oiiaoa ui
perdition into defeat, the crash or his brazed
irmor like an explosion at Hell Gate.
Abraham had at God's command agreed to
sacrifice his son Isaac, and the same
God just in time had provided a ram of the
thicket as a substitute. But here is another
Isaac bound to the alter and no hand arrests
the sharp edges of laceration and death, and
the universe shivers and quakes and recoils
ind groans at the horror. All good men have
for centuries been trying to tell who this
mbstitute was like, and every comparison,
Inspired and uninspired, evangelistic, pro*
phetic, apostolic and human, falls short, for
Christ was the Great unlike. Adam, a type
)f Christ because he came directly from God;
Noah, a type of Christ because he delivered
ins own family from a deluge; Melohisedec,
i type of Christ because he had no predecessor
>r successor; Joseph, a type of Christ bejause
he was cast out by his brethren; Moses,
i type of Christ because ho was a deliverer
from bondage; Joshua, a type of Christ bemuse
he was a conqueror; Samson a typo of
Christ because of his strength to slay the
ions and carry of the iron gates of im- J
possibility; Solomon, a type of Christ in the
iffluence of his dominion; Jonah, a type of
Christ because of the stormy sea in which he
threw himself for the rescue of others. But
put together Adam and Noah, and Melchiseiec
and Joseph, and Moses and Joshua, and
Samson and Solomon and Jonah, and they
would not make a fragment of a Christ, a
quarter of a Christ, or the millionth part of a
Christ. He forsook a throne and sat down
>n his own footstool. He came from tha top
3f glory to the bottom of humiliation and
:hanged a circumference seraphic for a cirmmfereuce
diabolic. Once waited 0:1 by
ingels, now hissed at by .brigands.
Prom afar and high up he camo
lown; apast meteors, swifter than tiny; by
itarrv thrones, .himself more lustrous; past
arger worlds to smaller worlds; down stairs or
armaments, and from cloud to cloud, and
ihrough tho tree-tops, and into tne cam-jl s
jtall, to thrust liia shoulder under our burdens
and take the lances of pain through his
vitals and wrapped himself in all theagonie3
which we deserve for our misdoings and
stood on the splitting decks of a foundering
ship amid tho drenching surf of the sea, and
Eassed midnights on the mountains amid wild
oasts of prey, and stood at the point where
all earthly and infernal hostilities charged on
him at once with their keen sabers?our substitute!
"When did attorney ever endure so much for
a pauper client, or physician for the patient
in the lazaretto, or mother for tho child in
membranous croup as Christ for us and Chrisl
for you and Christ for me? Shall any man
or woman or child in this audience who ha<
ever suffered for another find it hard to understand
this Christly suffering for us? Shal
those whose sympathies have been wrung ir
behalf of the unfortuuate have no apprecia
tion of that one moment which was lifted oui
of all tho ages of eternity as most conscpicu
ous when Christ gathere 1 up all the sins oi
those to be redeamed under his one arm and I
all their sorrows under his other arm anc
said: "I will atone for these under my r>ghj
arm and I will heal oil those under my lefi
arm. Strike me witb'all thy glittering shafts
oh, eternal justice. Roll over me with all thj
surges, ye oceans of sorrow!" And the thun
* n ? */! fV?a cani
derbolts struck mm irom UUUVO anu uuv
of trouble rolled up from beneath, hurricam
after hurricane and cyclone after cyclone
and then and there, in presence of heavei
and earth und hell, yea, all worlds witnesa
ing, the price, the bitter price, the transcend
ent price, the awful price, the glorious price
the inhnite price, the eternal price
was paid that sets us free. That ii
what Paul means, that is what I mean, thai
is what all those who have ever had theii
heart changed mean by "blood." I glory i
this religion of blood. I am thrilled as I s
tho suggestive color in sacramental cup
whether it be of burnished silver, set on
cloth immaculately white, or rough-hewn
from wood, set on table in log hut meetinghouse
of tho wilderness. Now I am thrilled
as [ see the altars of an ancient sacriflc?
Cfimsom with the blood of the slain lamb,
" T-nwituMia i<? to me aot so much the
UUU l^JTivtvuv -Old
Testament as the New. Now I see why
the destroying angel passing over Egypt in
the night spared all those houses that had
blood sprinkled on their door post3. Now ]
know what Isaiah means when he speaks ol
"One in red apparel coming with dyed garm3nts
from Bozrah," and whom the Apocalypse
means when he describes a heavenly
chieftain whoso "vesture was dipped in
blood," and what Peter, the Apostle, means
; when he speaks of the "precious blood" and
j what John means when ho refers to the blood
! that cleanseth from all sin, and what the old
i worn out, decrepit missionary Paul means
j when in my text he cries "without shedding
of blood is no remission." By that blood you
and I will be saved or never saved at all. In
; all the agesjofjtho world God has not once par!
donod a single sin except through the
; Savior's expiation, and he never will. Glory
I be to God that the hill back of Jerusalem
i was the battlefield on which Christ achieved
j our liberty.
The most exciting and overpowering day
of last summer was the day I spent on the
| battlefield of Waterloo. Starting out with
: the morning train from Brussels, Belgium,
| w? arrived in about an hour at that
? ? ?iniwim i i J
famous spot. A son of one who was In |
the battle and who bad heard from his father
a tboosand time3 the whole scene recited, accompanied
us over tha field. There stood the
old Hugomont Chateau, the walls dented and
scratched and broken and shattered of grape
shot and cannon ball. Thare is the well in
which three hundred dying and dead were
pitched There is the chapel with the head
of the infant Christ shot on. Thero are the
gates at which for many hours English and
French armies wrestled. Yonder wero the
1G0 guns of the English and the 250 guns of
the trench. Yonderth9 Hanoverian hussars
! fled for the woods. Yonder was the ravine ,
of Ohaine where the French cavalry, not
knowing thero was a hollow in the ground, <
rolled over and down, troop after troop, 2,000
horses and 1,500 men tumbling into one 3
awful mass of suffering, hoof of kicking ]
horses against brow and breast of captains
, 1,,J 1
ana coionois unu pnvuto duiuicid, iuu umuau
and tho beastly groan kept up until, the day (
after, all was shoveled under because of the
malodor arising in that hot month of Jane, j
"There," said our guide, "the Highland regiments
lay down on their faces waiting for the 1
moment to spring upon the foe. In that or- |
chard 2,500 men were cut to pieces. Here
stood Wellington with white lips,and up that
knoll rode Marshal Ney on his sixth horse,
five having been shot under him. Here the
ranks of the French broke and Marshal Nev ,
with his boot slashed with a sword and hia
hat off and his face covered with powder and I
blood, tried to rally his troops as ho cried: ,
"Come and see how a marshal of France dies '
on the battlefield!" From yonder direction |
Grouchy was expected for the French reinforcement,
but he came not. Around <
those woods Blucher was looked for i
to reinforce the English, and just "in
lime he come up. Yonder is the field where ?
Napoleon stood, his arm through the reins of |
the horse's bridle, dazed and insane, trying to
go back." Scene of a battle that went on I
from 11:35 o'clock on the 18th of June until i
4 o'clock, when the English seemed defeated
and their commander cried out: "Boys, can !
" * ? * n
you trnnK 01 Riving way; nuniHuiuci vuu
England!" and the tides turned, and at S '
o'clock in the evening the man of destiny who |
was called by his troops "Old Two Hundred
Thousond" turned away with a broken heart, 1
and the fate of centuries was decided. No (
wonder a great mound has been reared there,
hundreds of feet high?a mound at the ex- I
pense of millions of dollars and many yean .
in rising. On the top is the great Belgian
lion of bronze, aud a grand old lion it is. !
But our greater \Vatorloo was in Palestine. .
There came a day when all hell rode up, led '
on by Apollyon, and the captain of our salva- j
tion confronted them alone. The Rider on
the white horse of the Apocalypse going out |
against the black horse cavalry of death, and i
the batallions of the demoniac and the myrmidons
of darkness. From 12 o'clock at !
noon to 3 o'clock in the afternoon the great- ,
est hattla of the universe went on. Eternal
destinies were being decided. All the arrowi
of hell pierced our chieftain and the battle
axes struck him until brow and cheek anc 1
shoulder and hand and foot were incarna
dined with oozing life. But he fought or
until he gave a final stroke with sword front
Jehovah's buckler aud the commander-in
chief of bell and all his forces fell back ii
everlasting ruin, and the victory was ours
And on the mound that celebrates the triumpl
we plant this day two figures, not in bronzi
or iron, or sculpture,1 marble, but two figurei
of living light, the Lion of Judah's tribe aw
the Lamb that was slain.
TEMPERANCE TOPIOS,
*
Opening: Holl Gate,
The bars are down, Hell Gate is opened wide,
There's room for victims of the licensed sin;
Broud is the way, and many go therein
And float serenely on the dangerous tide,
Where whirlpools coil and hidden rocks abide,
rlfnomifa trifhin
TT ltu UligApiUUUU. ujnuimw
Ground and prepared in Satan's mills of
giQ>
Where all that's just is hated and denied.
One Hell Gate opens only to the sea,
Inviting commerco and prosperity;
The olher Ls the inhospitable door,
Whore bacchanalian victims shout and roar,
Unconscious of the covered dynamite,
Tiie electric spark a touch may soon ignite;
On every corner unseen wires diffuse
The lire, and death is there to touch the fuse.
?Geo. W. Bungay,in Temperance Adcocate.
Tf Iny the Wrong Man.
Some years ago I was living in a village
in Solano county. Upon one-occasion
a young man drove a wagon into
town loaded with fruit. After he had
placed his fruit on the train he went
into a saloon to take a few drinks and
have "h good time" with the boys; very
soon he became wild with liquor and was
so unmanageable that the constable of
the township had to arrest him. Aa there
was no orison in the town he resorted to
X"
tying the fellow with his back to tho
tree richt in the main street.
For a time he surged and tagged at
the ropes, but finding his efforts useless,
he cried out; "My God? has it come to
this? Tied lo a tree like a horse?"
Then gathering his scattered wits he
said to the constable: "I ain't the fellow
to tie. Tie the man that sold the
whisky!"
Here was true philosophy for you;
why arrest and tie the corrupted and let
the corrupter goon with his work?
We have temporized long enough with
this giant evil. The time has come when
wo nno-Vif in nnr aa SOV_
"v O ~ " *" ?.-J? ?
ereigns and crush it out. "Nre have been
I tying ihc wrong man long enough. Let
U9 seize the right man now and rivet fetters
so securely upon him that no
strength or skill will ever avail to break
j them.?Rescue.
TVhBkjr Violence.
The lawless violence of the whisky
men lias lately shown itself with increasing
frequency and bitteraess. In Franki
lin county, Ga., the illicit distillers have
inaugurated a literal "reign of terror."
In consequence of information given to
the revenue officer* their operations
have been interfered with. Oae young
man named Dyar, who had testified
against the whisky men, was shot dead
while riding home in his wagon. Another,
a farmer, suspected of having information
against them, was fired at
wkile sitting before the fireplace in his
own house, and narrowly escaped with
lxia life. In a neighboring county in
Tennessee a deputy-marshal, with an
illicit whisky distiller in charge as a
prisoner, was shot and killed on a rccent
Sunday morning. The Rev. Sam Jomes,
the groat Southern evangelist, who is
unsparing in his denunciation of whisky,
has lately had his barn blown up with
dynamite. Violence is whisky's only
defence.?National Temperance Advocate.
Temperance Notes*
John B. Talman, of Lynn, Mass., has
lately given $30,000 for the enforcement
of the liquor laws, and trustees of the
fund arc now pushing liquor prosecutions.
The Quarterly Journal of Inebriety
says: "The liberty of an inebriate ends
when that liberty becomes a curse to
others and interferes with the good order
of society."
Mrs. J. Ellen Foster, in the recent annual
session of the "Woman's Congress,
held at Des Moines. Iowa, made an eloquent
plea for the abolition of the universal
enemy?the liquor saloon.
RELIGIOUS READING. 9
Healthy PIetjr.
The stoutest timber stands on Nor- IB
wegian rocks, where tempests rage, tj
and long, hard winters reign. The -HBI
muscles are seen most fully developed 1
in the brawny arm that plies the %
blacksmith's hammer. Even so, the ]
most vigorous and healthy piety is ^
that which is the busiest, which has
difficulties to battle wi;b, which has j
its bands full of good works, which
bas neither time nor room for evil,
but, aiming at great things both for
Sod and man, promptly and summarily
dismisses temptations with Neheniah'8
Answer, "I have a great work
io do, therefore I cannot come flown."
Visiting The Poor. ^
Miss Octavia Hills says, * I am con- ^3jj
finced that one of the evils of much J
thnt. ia rtnna for the Door SDrinars from j
;he want of delicacy felt, and ct ?r- '-JS
cesy shown towards them, and that wo
cannot beneficially help them in any
ipirit different to that in which we
lelp those who are better off. The lelp
may differ in amount, it should
lot differ in kind." Apply these worda #
;o visiting as well as to giving. Do j
lot try to visit many families, but only --jl
>nough to be able to go often, so that
i true friendship may spring up. Oace . ^
ffin the friendship of the various
3iembers of the home, aud they can . :*M
3e influenced for good. In visiting do
lot give money. Let Mis3 Hills again : j||
jpeak, "I hope you will notice that I * M
iave dwelt on the need of restrain- jw
ng yourselves from almsgiving, on. v
he sole ground that such restraint is
the only true mercy to the poor them- ^
jelvcs. I have no desire to protect ?
the purses of the rich, no hard feeling ;
to the poor. I am thinking continual- ,
ly and only of what is really kindest - f
to tbem, kindest in the long run cer- I
Lainly, but still kindest. I think small \
floles unkind to them, though they
bring a momentary smile to their faces.
First of all, I think they make them
really poorer. Then I think they de?rade
them and make them less inde
pendent. Thirdly, I think they destroy
the possibility of really good relations
between you and them. Surely, when
pou go among them you have better
things to do for them than to give them
half-crowns. You want to know them , 2^
to enter into their lives, their thoughts;
to let them enter into some of your _
brightness; to make their lives a
little fuller, a little gladder. You
who know so much more than they,.
might help them so much in the
arises of their lives. . . . xne gin,
pou have to make the poor, depend ' '%
upon it, is the greatest of all gifts you
:an make?that of yourselves, following
in your great Master's steps, whose
life is the foundation of all charity.
The form of it may change with the
ages; the great law remains, 'Give to
him that a3keth of thee, and from him
that would borrow oC thee, turn not
thou away.' But see that thou give .
him bread, not a stone?bread, the
nourishing thing, that which wise -U
thought teaches you will be to him --&M
helpful, not what will ruin him body
and soul; else, while obeying fthe letter
of the command; you will be false to
its deep, everlasting meaning. My
friends, I have lived face to face with
the poor now for some years, and
I have not learned to, think gifts of
necessaries, such as a man usually provides
for his own family,helpful to them
I have abstained from such, and expect
those who love the poor, and know
them individually, will do so more and
more in the time to come. I have
sometimes been asked by rich acquaintances,
when I have said this, whether
I do not remember the words, 'Never
turn your face from any poor man.' ;
Oh, my friends, what strange perversion
of words this seems to me. I
may deserve reproach; I may have
forgotten many a poor man, and done
as careless a thing as anyone; but I
cannot help thinking that to give one's
self, rather than one's money, to the
poor is not exactly turning one's face
from him. If I, caring for him and
striving for him, do in my inmost
heart believe that my money, spent in
providing what he might by effort provide
for himself, is harmful to him,
surely he and I may be friends all the
same. Surely, I am bound to give him
only what I believe to be best. He
oiivava limlflrstiind it at the
HMkJ LIKJU U1 ?? \mj w
moment, but he will feel it in God's
own good time."
The following suggestions, taken
from the New York Charity Organization
Society Manual, should be well
noticed: "Avoid the appearance of
dictation, also of inquisitiveness.
Never repeat to others what you may
learn in the families you visit. Give
sympathy, but do not lead them to be
discontented ; their lot is hard enough,
do not make it harder ; give courage,
energy and hope. Do not be discouraged
or disappointed?the habits of a
lifetime are not to be corrected in a
day. Be patient as you would be with
wn"' rhildrpn : armeal to their
JVUl V ~ , JT i
better selves from your own better
self." _______
The Woman's Christian Temperance
Union, of Boston, has been instrumental
in procuring laws in fourteen States for
compulsory education in the effects of liquor
on drinkers. The society now scem3 -?^
to feel the responsibility of indicating
what the lessons ought to be. It has
be.cn decided that, in Massachusetts at
least, children shall be instructed that
alcohol is never desirable as an article of
food, that any considerable indulgence
in it is sure to be correspondingly injurious
to the body, and that mental and
moral ruin is bound to result from excess.

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