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? W !' r WOMAN IN WAR.~! t SOME ANGELS OF MERCY AND * SOME SIMPLY FIENDS. j I The Petroleuse's Share in the Com- * niuoe's Reign of Terror?How the Queen of Roumanta Sue- ^ cored the Wounded. ^ , ~ c ^ I T HE amonnt of material which ? B' I preceded ages have sappliod a m jL with reference to "Women on t W <J the War Path"?from Helen 3 jj of Troy and Edith, who searched in li [ the glimpses of an October moon for I the dead body of Harold, even to c f martyred Joan of Arc, and ianumer- s able heroines of more recent date? r might well occupy far more space p than is at my command; henoe, it is I r have eleoted to devote this pen and o pencil sketch to such women on the t war path as I have personally met q when representing the Illustrated l London News and other papers at the g front, writes Irving Montague in the c Queen. a The very word Petroleuse sends a a thrill of horror through those who can recall the atrocities she commit- C ted in the second siege of Paris, as a described by eye witnesses, among b whom I, at that time, found myself, v Fortified with absinthe to a condition a of reckless daring and well supplied c with petroleum, she sailed forth from d her squalid attic or caberet, at Uelle- s< ville, Clichy, or some other equally ii disreputable suburb, as night closed a in, leaving in her trail death and do- I struotion on every side in that city of E ruined palaces, which the Germans in n their attack and occupation had so fi [ considerately spared. It was, indeed, n a grim sight tc see her hurrying over w the debris prying and peering into v such houses as were still standing, for t the most c-on/enient means by which to fire, and thus add to the rack and b ruin round about a feeling equalled ti t ? ? j j MARAQUETA-AN INCIDEN1 alone by the satisfaction of seeing, as c Jff I did, some 700 of these abandone j wretches, after the troops had retaken t ?jP the city, securely caged, awaiting t Cayenne, or execution, in the Oran- a j gerie at Versailles; surely, the fair I Bex, even in the reign of terror, could \ not have appeared to more hideous 1 disadvantage than these women of } Paris in the second siege; though it s must never be forgotten that the e highest a3 well as the lowest mo- e tives actuated French women of all c grades at that time, and that sisters of' t charity, vivandieres, and others who then oame to the fore, justified one's i adding to the old proverb, "Le monde I est le livre des femme ?specially c France. It is, in fact, quite a relief 1 I i j A PETROLErSE. 1 I to refer to the heroines I, over and I over again, came across during that, \ my first campaign, amongst whom 1 t may mention the daughter of a man e of independent means, who not only e handed over hia entire wealth f.nwRrd ? war expense, but also took up arms s with hia three sons, all of whom died t in the service of their country, while b (yet in her teens) the dead patriot's one remaining child took a situation E at a cafe ohantant at Havre, where, s with the tri-color wrapped about her, n Bhe furthered the cause by nightly h singing?sad at heart as she was-- h patriotic songs to the enthusiastic sol- w diery; amongst whom, by the way, n was a young French-tireur, whose a youthful, well defined features and . slim contour were remarked by every one, till it was afterward discovered, when laid low by a bullet, that this graceful warrior was also a woman; not was this by any means an isolated case during the Franco-Prussian campaign, in which many women were to thus be found on the war path. Taking events in the order in which' they happened, I recall a romatic incident which I witnessed during the battle of Behobea in the Spanish (Carlist) war of 1874. One woman alone had remained in that hotly shelled village of Behobea, i the others haviDg escaped across the : frontier river, the Biddasoa, into j France. Maniqueta---for 6uch was her , name?loved a youu^ Carhst soldier whomshe had almost unmanned by de- : terminingthus to remain with him. Hhe ' was at la9t persuadedto take up a com- i paratively safe position on the balcouy i of a houi-c .situated near the barricade, , which, with others, her lover stoutly j defended as our republican troops swept the streets from end to cud with bayonet and firebrand. Ksvlly upou i rally ensued around about that barri- t cade, till, before her very eyep, lie was ^ W shot dead?Maraqueta herself, almost, r at the same moment receiving two f wounds, a ball penetrating both the s wriBts of her clasped hands. Great as t the general excitement was she t was seen to fall by a young i >fficer of oar side; bat alas! the louse was already in flames, and he broad staircase, as he anxiously ooked through the open door, wae eemingly enveloped in a sheet of fire. i woman's life, however, was in the >alance, and, to be laconic, only a ew moments had elapsed before, corched but undaunted, this brilliant oldier, returning, rushed past mo pith his bleeding, but still breathing, mrden, who was soon being tenderly lared for by the Red Cross doctors; ler mind, however, had given way, ,ud I heard when last in Spain that he once beautiful and much-beloved laraqueta had become a raving unatic. I have seen, too, in this same ampaign, women actually supplying kirmishers whilst fighting witfi aucia (a cheap native wine), apparently dodging the bullets as they ushed from man to man. Times out f number, too, have I also seen them ending the wounded out in the open, [uite regardless of 6elf, in the hail of ead with which brutalized troops xeeted them, and by which in many ases they were sent to their last ccount, while encaged in this final ct of heroism. In Servia I was much with the Red !ross sisters and doctors, who, as they Iways do, distinguished themselves rilliantly in their self-sacrificing deotion to the sick and wounded. I m here reminded how on one ocasion, when bringing, from Semenriato Belgrade seventeen maimed nldiers, I effected the journey partly i a sort of tumble-down steam barge nd partly in requisitioned wagons, t was in the small hours we arrived at telgrade hospital, yet the Red Cross urses, already nearly worn out with itigue, were indefatigable in their linistrations to my contingent of rounded, working throughout the rhole night to alleviate the pain of ho sufferers. As an instance of the ruling passion eing strong in death, I may mention he fact that on ly two of my charges life" C OF THE SPANISH WAR lied; one on the barge during the ourney, the other in hospital. When he case of the latter was found to be lopeless, he was told that if he had iny special wish it should, if possible, >e complied with. For some time he v&s silent, then, with a bright smile, le looked up into her anxiously symjathetic face and said, "Apples." I it once rushed out and returned with leveral; he seized them with nervous mergy and commenced devouring >ne ravenously, dying, in fact, in he effort before he could finish it. Foremost amongst distinguished wonen on the war path was the Queen of Houmania ("Carmen Silva"). My first icquaintance with this mo3t fascinatng sovereign was at the Red Cross lospital at Bucharest, Conigsby, the London Times correspondent, who was vith me at the time, had just left Philipopolis, where Lady Strangford pas alsn devoting her best Anerciafl to o ?, o he succor of the wounded. "Tell ne," said her Majesty (then Princess Slizabetii) in excellent English, "how aany beds has Lady Strangford in her lospital?" "Forty-eight, your Maesty." "Then tell her ladyship, when text you see her, Mr. Conigsby, that have fifty-four." Her womanly >ride raised her above her social staion. "Carmen Sylva" was six to the ;ood; there was a merry twinkle in hat royal oye. A romance worth remembering took>lace while I was at Plevna, which :uriously affected the destinies of a :ertain tiny damsel, who was found eft behind in a shattered Bulgarian mt by the advancing Russian troops. it the end of the war this little waif ras tenderly c ared for and educated >y the officers and men of the regiaent which hud found her, developing ventuaily into a very lovely and acomplished girl who only a few years ince married a dashing young lieuenant of that same corps which had ieen instrumental in saving her life. Surely fact'is stranger than fiction, lere is vet another instance of a Eus ian cavalry offioer who, having just lurried, was about to start on hi.* oneymoon when war being declared, e was ordered instanter to the front, 'hither, in defiance of military perlission, which could never have been ccorded, his young wife, circumvent i mem! *1 /ffff * A V1VANDIERE. ng an enormous number of difficulies, succeeding in following him, and phere on several occasions I saw her iding around the lines, often drawing ira from the Turkish rifle pits. She iomehow managed to remain, neverheless,throughout the greater part of he siege, much, as her husband told ne to his own discomfiture, his anx iety for her safety almost eclipsing his sense of du<?y. Then there is that other woman to i be found on the warpath who follows in the wake of carnage, one who concerns herself rather with the dead than the living, whose hopes and aims in life may be summed up in the one word?pelf?as represented by epaulettes and gold lace, with an oocasional watch or signet ring thrown in; indeed, I have, with reference to signet rings, a gruesome memory, which dates back to 1877. It was the night after the battle at Zevin, in Asia Minor; one of my native followers hnd purchased from one of these hags of the battlefield ft massive gold ring, with a Russian monogram upon it, and was now anxious that I should become, at an advanced price, the proud RUSSIAN RED CROSS. possessor of this souvenir of the recent fight, adding that, if I had any doubt about its genuineness, the goldseeker who appropriated it would with pleasure supply the finger of the dead man from whom it had been taken. I was, however, in this case (even with the finger thrown in) not to be tempted, although (minus that dead man's digit) a fellow correspondent at once rtnAiiirnfl flio roll/* SWISS COTTAGE. A Pleasing and Effective Design ic Architecture When Americanized. (Copyright 1895.) There are some styles of architecture that are particularly fitted tc American climatic and social conditions. There are others that can seldom be used with good effecl, but inasmuch as there are occasional calls for the construction of houses of these styles, it is fitting that they should be considered. ARCrt/rzcTSN.y. The design illustrated herewith is that of a Swiss cottage?a style that is not fitted for this country in general. Swiss architecture is the outgrowth of the needs and conditions of the inhabitants of Switzerland, and like all National institutions is most appropriate to its natural surroundings. The life of the Swiss peasant is divided by his occupations into two seasons?the summer, when he is watching and tending his cattle on the high Alps, and the winter, when he is forced to find shelter from the rigor OU6 cnmate, wnn its nerce uiormti, iu the low-lying, secluded valleys. His summer home is a log hut placed behind some projecting rock that will break the sweep of the wind. This is the chalet, and on the mountain side -?^ 1 "Kitefieiv* (til 15 6 xia-o |gjj E H-ill ? \ HVxi8.0"'- H fc ^ lj,??! . | ? .?? Wj ?r J... I I * First Floor it produces a most picturesque appearance, thoroughly iD keeping with surrounding nature. But the winter residence?the Swiss cottage, so-called ?is an elaborate example of the fanciful in architecture, combined with and molded for the needs and requirements of the inhabitants of this picturesque though trying (us to climate) country. The most striking feature of these cottages is the roof, which to American eyes seems almost flat, and as a matter of fact is built at au angle of about 155 degree.', projecting well ' over the cottage aide to keep the windowa, balconies, porches and piazza clear of the heavy falls oi snow whic'.i are so characteristic of this country, drifting to iimnzinrr ! o w ~ ?o o ?? j Swiss architecture, as built iu thi3 j country, has beeu, shall we say, somewhat Americanized, and the accompanying sketch shows a structure that would be effective and pleasing it' erected iu a suitable location. The latter point is oue upon which an architect, versed as well in the technical points of landscape, should be consulted, as manv a man spending his money freely but not discreetly in tiie erection of a house, has found too late that he has made a serious mistake iu trusting too confidently to his own taste. It may be found neces sary for him to sell a house that has cost him thousands of dollars, and because of its expressing too strongly his own individuality, he finds he will ] not be able to realize a third of his to investment. It is the proper duty of fox the architect not only to draw plans thi but to advise with his client upon the 19 ] general style, accommodation and Ph arrangement of the house to be chosen, as well as, and perhaps above all, to see that it harmonizes with its sur- r roundings and suits the artistic de* caj mards of the neighborhood. tea The design illustrating this article ^ ( would be much out ot place by the ag seashore, but for a couritry residence cin or the suburbs of a city, where the jW( land is not flat but rather mountain- ,jei ous or hilly, its tasteful and striking appearance would be most appropriate. A brief description is given as follows : f General dimensions: Width (over all), 36 feet; depth, including veranda, OE 48 feet 2 inches. Height of stories: Cellar, 7 feet; ,, first story, 10 feet; second story, 9 feet. , Exterior materials: Foundation, , U??a1p a r%T r? r? V* r\ a A a OOO ATI rl JJI1UA j mot OlUi J | Vsin?/ ui/ai uo ) owwkii* story, gables and roofs, shingles. Pe* Outside blinds. *nc Interior finish : Hard white plaster; plaster cornices in parlor, hall, dining room and three chambers; soft wood flooring and trim, ash stairway; ^ panels nnder windows in parlor, hall and dining room; bathrDom and kitch- 3Qe en wainscotted; interior woodwork 3U' finished in hard oil. fea Suggestions for colors: Clapboards and aashee, oliv?; trim, dark green; outside doors, dark green with olive >ae panels; blinds, rain conductors and brick work, Pompeian red; veranda, iva( floor and ceiling, drab; under side of ;Pe roof overhanging, medium drab; panels on sides of brackets and over bay 'he wmdoivs, Pompeian red; wall shingles dipped and brush coated with reddish 110 .vit >er 3 is1 |q*.| itc JFla*, I L 3K ^ir "r*",i iea jj I I Hfe* !r ^8 ? , 1 ? bu ?11 iLu_^i -i the | I for ' 4<-| j~ it i 11 hiis? 1 . -of ^ pie jl i *1 car i / \ !itt / K">[ \ nP' / 1 ' X thi ; / XI A.n SCCOnd Door' stain; roof shingles dipped and brush * coated with Indian red stain. sar The principal rooai9 and their sizes, closets, etc., are shown by the floor plans. 3PC Cellar under kitchen and pantry. Fireplaces with hardwood mantels in tw< ball, parlor, dining room and one a(*c bedroom and kitchen range included dot in estimate. Hall designed to be used as a sitting room. The attic is bui floored for storage. ru* Three thousand five nundred and six- 9U* teen dollars is the cost for this design as described, not including heater, the ?U1 estimate being based on New York prices for material and labor, but in vei ? ? ? ? ?? iUa /lAtli1 t ll G wuuy teuuuus ui tuc uvuutxj nuc ouou should be less. 9Pr ?_ mo (wDrernor McKinlej's Jlother. inc Governor McKinley and wife went to Canton, Ohio, recently, to celebrate the eighty-sixth birthday of the . Governor's mother. Mrs. McKinley, ina " / V 4W$?gSfE? ' it i MRS. M'KIN'LEV AT EIGHTY-SIX. ?U ? r senior, walked to church oa the arm ser of th6 Governor. cof Mrs. McKinley, says the New York 8te World, is distinctively a motherly wo- j man. All through life her advice has been sought, and her favorite counsel i has always been expressed in Charles Kingsley's verse: p Be good, sweet maid, and let who will be , clever; ?* Do noble dee Is?not dream them all day fro long? p0] So making life, death and that vast forever One grand, sweet song. J jac A Royal Sufferer Bro:n Varicosc Veins, less The Prince of Wales suffers terribly from varicose veins, which necessi- ^?r tates him taking the utmost caro of e himself, and there are periods of the ?- the CQt m -^0^ ^jrasr ^ ski. ^ IL [\W^W \ '| v1"- I \\ V n<" )/ ^ i enc X \ VK" , // \fw "h v \M /') " ' \ \\\// ^ pi? \ V/ J anc PRINCE OF WALES. year when hia legs are in such condi- . tion that they have to be bandaged up P ? several times a day. It is owing to the Prince's afflicted extremities that *re knee breeches are ao far lesB worn now ,r0' at entertainments, where royalty is ~?l present, as was the case up to 1870. HOUSEHOLD MATTERS. COLD TEA IN APPLE PIE. ft is said that a little cold tea added the next apple pie will elicit a call ' another just like it, but whether a goes into the crust or the apples Dot deemed worthy of mention.? iladelphia Ledger. CAKES WITHOUT SHORTENING. rhis is a good way to make fried ces without any shortening: One .cup of sugar, one teacup fresh milk don't think Holstein milk would be good), one egg, a little nutmeg, or namon if preferred, a pinch of salt, 3 teaspoonfuls of good baking powr, floor enough to roll. ?American riculturist. OXTAIL SOUP. 3hop the oxtail in pieces an inch ig. Set them on the fire -with an ace of butter ; stir until they turn >wn, and then turn the fat off. Add i amount of broth required, and boil wly until the pieces of oxtail are II done; then add three or four aatoes whole; season with salt and jper; boil gently for fifteen minutes 1 serve, meat and all.?Louisville urier-Journal. no PUDDING. To make fig pudding, take one cup black molasses, one cup of chopped it, one cup of milk, three and a jrter cups of flour, two eggs, one spoonful of soda, one of cinnamon, f a teaspoonful of nutmeg, one pint figs. Mix together the molasses, t, spice and figs, Cut fine; dissolve > soda with a teaspoonful of hot ;er and mix with the milk ; add to other ingredients; beat the eggs [it and stir into the mixture; add flour and beat thoroughly. Butter > small, or one large, brown bread Ids and steam five hours. Serve h cream sauce.?New York Obver. r.tvn t A\tdc3 avt> pawp. OP TTEROSENT5 ?he habit of filling lamps after dark a dangerous one and should be ?ided. When purchasing lamp chimrs insist upon having only those t are clear and bright as crystal, ving the flecked and imperfect ones the careless purchaser. Do not keep i kerosene in the house or cellar, t locate the vessel containing it in i woodhouse or other outbuilding, be as careful as you may, some of' s at times liable to be spilled, the jr is spotted and the odor is not asant. Get one of the .improved is holding several gallons, with a ;le faucet attached. Place located an a bench or shelf and you have s matter under complete control.? lerican Agriculturist. BUSKS. tfix in a sponge at night or very ly in the morning the followingned ingredients: One cupful of Ik, scalded and cooled; one table(onful of sugar, half a teaspoonful salt, one-fourth cupful of yeast, j cupfuls of flour. When well risen 1 flour enough to make a stiff igh. Knead and let it rise again, in add one-fourth of a cupful of tter one egg, beaten with butter : X- I jueu IU fcfc ureiirLii, Lian a tu^iaI xji. jar. Let it rise in the bowl till ht. Shape into small sound bists, put them close together in a kllow cake pan, that they may rise y high. When ready to bake, rub i tops with sugar dissolved in milk, inkle with dry sugar and bake in a derate oven.?St. Louis Star-Sayr9 HOUSEHOLD HINT3. i weak tea of tobacco water kills ects on plants. Spirits of salt for ink stains may be .d on mahogany. Try a slip of ivy started in a hang; glass bowl of water. rhread a needle from the end of the ead last cut from the spool. soaking the wick in vinegar and ring before usiug prevents its smokjreaee may be removed from woolen ids by sponging it with strong cold fee. .Vash -Dotted Dlants. pots and all, in * - X A. * Is and rinse in tepid water onoe a ek to kill insects. S'ine laces may be cleaned by being :ked in wheat flour and allowed to aain twenty-four hours. [f a shirt bosom or any other arie has been scorched in ironing lay ivhgje ths bright sunshine will fall ectly on it. Tea or chocolate should never be ved with fried foods. Always serve Fee with fried oysters, fish or lobrs, also with cheese. 31ack sillk may be renovated by a rough sponging with stale beer, ced between newspapers and issed with a hot iron. Two parts of crude oil and one part turpentine removes white spots m furnilure and makes as good a ish as one can desire to have. Turnips boiled like beets, with their kets on, are of better flavor and } watery. A small bit of sugar led while the vegetable is boiling rects the bitterness often found in m. Juttermilk will bleach clothes. Soak i soiled or discolored pieces for eral hours in the buttermilk, then sh, blue and dry in tlie usual way. er boiling the clothes will be iter. L pretty way to bake apples is to them into halves, leaving on the q. Sprinkle a little sugar over m, and bake in a pan, akin si le vn. The skin need not be eaten, ; it holds the slice in form soment. t is a good plan to look over all the ce bags, and sort out. tho-e that will ' 111- J !??,. mat-a li(2 Uiue UUUie&'.i, ami 1UCU ugh to lost some time. Put au olil ite cloth in a tag by itself, where Fill be handy. Do the same with ces of lluuuel; it will save time I a flurry if needed in sickness. Horse Population oi New York. ?he Board of Health has just comted a horse census of New York. 5 recapitulation shows that there 69,212 equines hauling everything m garbage to pleasure seekers at all irs of the day a^d night. ?Chicago nea-Herald. j ( I ) REV. DR. TALMAGE. SUNDAY'S SERMON IN THE NEW YORK ACADEMY OF MUSIC. Subject: "After the Battle.*' Text: "And it came to pass on the morrow, when the Philistines came to strip the jlaln, that they found Saul and his three sons fallen in Mount Gilboa."?I Samuel xxxi., 8. Some of you were at South Mountain or ihiloh or Ball's Bluff or Gettysburg on Northern or Southern side, and [ ask you if there is any sadder sight than a battlefield ifter the guns have stopped firing? I walked icro?3 the fleld of Antietam just after the jonflici. The scene was so sickening I shall aot describe it. Every valuable thing had been taken from the bodies of the dead, for there are always vultures hovering over and iround about an army, and they pick up the watches, and the memorandum books, md the letters, and the daguerreotypes, and the hats, and the coat3, applying them to their own uses. The dead make no resistance. So there are always camp followers ?oing on and after an army, as when Scott went down into Mexico, as when Napoleon inarched up toward Stoscow, as when Von Moltke went to Sedan. There is a similar scene in my text. Saul and his army had been horribly cut to pieces. Mount Gilboa was ghastly with the dead. On the morrow the stragglers came on to the fleld, and they lifted the latchet of the helmet from under the chin of the dead, they picked up" the swords and bent them on their knee to test the temper of the metal, ind they opened the wallets and counted the coin. Saul lay dead along the grouud, eight or nine feet in length, and I suppose the sowardly Philistines, to show their braverv. leaped upon the trunk of his carcass ana jeered at the fal len slain and whistled through :he mouth of his helmet Before night those sormorants had taken everything valuable from the field. "And it came to pass on the morrow, when the Philistines came to strip the slain, that they found Saul and his three 30ns fallen in Mount Gllboa." Before I get through to-day I will show you that the same process Is going on all the world over, and every day, and that when men have fallen satan and the world, so far from pitying them or helping them, go to work remorselessly to take what little there is left, thus stripping the slain. There are tens of thousands of young men every year coming from the country to our great cities. They come with brave hearts and grand expectations. The country lads sit down in the village grocery^ with their feet on the iron rod around the redhot stove, in the evening, talking over the prospeots of the young man wno has gone off to the city. Two or three of them think that perhaps he may get along very well and succeed, but the most of them prophesy failure, for it is very hard to think that those whom we knew in boyhood will ever make any great success in tho world. ~ But our young man has a fine position in a dry goods store. The month is over. He gets his wages. He is not accustomed to have so much money belonging to himself. He is a little excited and does not know exactly what to do with it, and he spends it in some places where he ought not. Soon there come up new companions and acquaintances from the barrooms and the saloons of the city. Soon that young man begins to waver in the battle of temptation, and soon his soul goes down. In a few njgntbs or few years he has fallen. He is morally dead. Be is a mere corpse of what he once was. Tho harpies of sin snuff up the taint and come on the field. His garments gradually give Ant. TTa Wq narrnAH hla wn.tnh TTin hAnlth fijf filing him. Hlj Credit perishes. fie Is too poor to stay in the city, an^ 13 ?90 poor to pay III Home to the country. Down, clown! Why do the low fellows of the city now stick to him so closely? Is it to help him back to a moral and spiritual life? Oh, no. I will tell you why they stay. They are Philistines stripping the slain. Do not look where I point, but yonder stands a man who once had a beautiful home In this city. His house had elegant furniture, his children were beautifully clad, his name was synonymous with honor and usefulness, but evil habit knocked at his front door, knocked at his back door, knocked at his parlor door, knocked at his bedroom door. Where In the piano? Sold to pay the rent. Where is the hatrack? Sold to meet the butcher's bill. Where are the carpets? 8old to get bread. Where is the wardrobe? Sold to get rum. Where are the daughters? Working their fingers off In trying to keep the family together. Worse and worse until everything Is gone. Who is that going up the front steps of that house? That Is a creditor, hoping to find some chair or bed that has not been levied upon. Who are those two gentlemen now going up the front steps? The one Is a constable; the other Is the sheriff. Why do they go there? The unfortunate Is morally dead, sooially dead, financially dead. Why do they go there? I will tell you why the creditors and the constables and the sheriffs go there. They are, some on their own account and some on account of the law, stripping the slain. An ex-member of Congress, one of the most eloquent men that ever stood in the House of Representatives, said in his last moments: "This Is the end. I am dying? dying on a borrowed bed, covered by a borrowed sheet, in a house built by public charity. Bury me under that tree in the middle of the field, where I shall not be crowded, for I have been crowded all my life." Where were the jolly politicians and tho dissipating comrades who had been with him, laughing at his jokes, applauding his eloquence and plunging him into sin? They have left. Why? His money is gone, his reputation is gone, his wit is gone, his clothes are gone?everything is gone. Why should they stay any longer? They have completed their work. They have stripped the slain. There is another way, however, of doing the same work. Here is a man who, through his sin, is prostrate. He acknowledges that ho has done wrong. No w Is the time for you to go to that man and say, "Thousands of peoplo have been as far astray as you are and got back." Now is the time for you to an tfi that man and tell him of the omnloo tent grace of God, that is sufficient for any poor soul. Now is the time to go and tell swearing John Bunyan, through the Sace of (Sod,afterward game to the C^e?tlal ty. Now is th6 tifts t<5 #o ta ffiaimaOnd tell him tow pro/Ji'gMs Netffon c&m?V t^jputfu iojiveTsioh, to yja World renowned. of righteousness. Now is the time' to tell that m an that multitudes who have beeij pounded with all the flails of sin and dragged through all the sewers of pollution at last have risen to positive dominion of moral powers. You do not tell him that, do you? No. You say to him, "Loan you money? .No You are down. You will have to go to the dogs. Lend you a dollar? I would not lend you five cents to keep you from the gallows. Yod are debauched! Get out of my sight, now! Down! You will have to stay down!" And thu3 those bruised and battered men are sometimes accosted by those who ought to lift them up. Thus the last vestige of hope is taken from them. Thus those who ought to go and lift and save them are guilty of stripping the slain. The point I want to make is this: Sin is hard, cruel and merciless. Instead of helping a man up it helps him down, and when, like Saul and his comrades, you lie on the field, it will come and steal your sword and helmet and shield, leaving you to the jackal and the crow. But the world and satan do not do their work with the outcast and abondoned. A respectable impenitent man comos to die. Be is flat on his back. He could not get up if the house was on lire. Adroitest medical skill and gentle nursing have been a failure. He hns come to his last hour. What does satan do for such a man? Why. he fetches up all the inapt, disagreeable and harrowing things in his life. He says: "Do you remember those chances you had for heaven and missed? Do you remember all those lapses in conduct? Do you remember all those opprobrious words and thoughts and actions? Don't remember them, eh? I'll make you remember them." And then he takes all the past and empties it on that deathbed, as the m ail bags are emptied on the postofllce floor. The man is sick. He caunot get away from them. it-- f,-v antnn. "V . hum XIH*I1 C11C U1UU P??jn iv . J,vu **? ?>. deceived me. You told me that all would be well. You .said there would be 110 trouble at the last. You told me if I did so and so you would do so and so. Now you corner me and hedge me up and submerge me in everythingcvil." "Ha, ha!" sayssatan. "I was only fooling you. It is mirth for me to see you suffer. i have been for thirty years plotting to get you just where you are. It is hard for you now; it will be worse for you after awhile. It pleases me. Lie still, sir. Don't flinch or shudder. Come, now, I will tear off from you the last rag of expectation. I will rend away from your soul the last hope. I will leave you bare for the beating of the =31 storm. It is my business to strip the slain." A man who had rejected Christianity and thought it all trash came to die. He was 1b the sweat of a great agony, and his vlfe said, "We had better have some prayer." "Mary. not a breath of that," he said. "The lightest word of prayer would roll back on me like rocks on a drowning mam I have come to the hour of test. I had a ohance, but I forfeited It I believed in a liar, and he has left me in the lurch. Mary, bring me Tom Paine ?that book that I swore by and lived by? and pitch It Into the Are, and let it bum and burn as I myself shall soon burn." And then, with the foam on his lip and his hands tossing wildly In the air, he cried out: "Blaokness or darkness! Oh, my God. too late!" And the spirits of darkness whistled up front the depth and wheeled around and around him, stripping the slain. i 8in is a luxury now, it Is exhilaration now? it is vlotory now. But after awhile it is collision; it la defeat; it is extermination; It U jackalism; it is robbing the dead; it is stripping the slain. Give it up to-day?give it up! Oh, how you have been oheated on, myi brother, from one thing to another! AIL these years you have been under an evU mastery that you understood not. What have your companions done for you? What, have they done for your health? Nearly? ruined it by carousal. What have they donef for your fortune? Almost scattered it byj spendthrift behavior. What have they done for your reputation? Almost ruined it with good men. What have they done for your , immortal soul? Almost insured its overthrow. You are hastening on toward the consummation of allithat is sad. To-day ycu stop and think, but it is only for a moment, and thea you will tramp on, and at the close of thia. service you will go out. and the question will be, "How did you like the sermon?" And one man will say, "I liked It very well," and another man will say, "I didn't like It at all," but neither of the answers will touefc the tremendous fact that if impenitent you are going at thirty knots ux hour toward! shipwreck. Yea, you are in a battle whertt you will fall, and while your surviving relatives will take' your remaining estate and; the cemetery will take your body the messengers of darkness will take your soul and; come and go about you. stripping the slain.! Many are crying out, "I admit I am Blain;, T a/1mU I* " An nrliaf Ko f+J ol/l Itttf hfrttlui X OUUilli VU H liUV uaibvvuuviuj <MJ ( era? By what weapon? "Pointed imagination," says one man; "Intoxicating liquor,"* says another man; "My own hard heart,". says another man. Do yon realize this?; Then I come to tell you that the omnipotent Christ is ready to walk across this battlefield and revive and resuscitate and resurrect your dead soul Let Him take your hand and rub away the numbness, your head and bathe off the aching, your heart and stop its wild throb. He brought Lazarus to life, He brought Jairus's daughter to life, Ha brought the young man of Nain to life, and: these are three proofs anyhow that He oan bring you to life. ; When the Philistines came down on th* field, they stepped between the corpses, and/ they rolled over the dead, and they tooc away everything that was valuable. And sot It was with the people that followed after tha armies at Chancellorsville and at PittsburgLanding and at Stone River and at Atlanta,! stripping the slain, but the Northern ants 8outnera women?God bless them!?came on} the field with basins and pads and towel? and lint and cordials ana Christian eiH couragement, and the poor fellows that lay: there lifted up their arms and said, "Oh, ' how good that does feel since you dressed' it!" And others looked up and said, ''Oh.' how you make me think of my motherlj And others said, "Tell the folks at home 1 died thinking about them/' And another looked up and said, "Miss, won't you sing me a verse of 'Home, Sweet.Home,' before lj 1 die?" And then the tattoo was gounaea, ana! the hats word oft, and the service was read.! am t^e resurrection ancj the life." Ana . in hofior of th<? departed the muatete xffrST loaded an3 (he c5muian3 given, "Present-i, fixe!" And there was a shingle set up atthtf ' head of the grave, with the epitaph of "Lieutenant in the Fourteenth Hassa-. chusetts regulars," or "Captain ? in tha Fifteenth regiment of South Carolina volunteers." And so now, across this great field of moral and spiritual battle, the angels ot God come walking among the slain, and: there was voices of comfort and voices of hope and voices of resurrection and voices oi heaven. One night I saw a tragedy on the corner of Broadway and Houston street. A young! man, evidently doubting as to which direotion he had bettor take, his hat lifted high1 enough so that you could see he had an in-1 telUgent forehead, stout chest; he had ' robust development. Splendid young man.' Cultured, young man. Honored young man.j Why did he stop there while so many were going up and down? The fact is that every man has a good angel and a bad angel contending for the mastery of his spirit, and there were a good angel and a Sad angel struggling with that young man's soul at1 the corner of Broadway and Houston streets "Come with me," said the good angel; "I will take you home; I will spread my wingB; over your pillow; I will lovingly escort youi all through life under supernatural protection; I will bless every cup you drink out of,! every couch you rest on, every doorway yotu enter; I will consecrate your tears when youj weep, your sweat when you toil, and at tha last I will hand over your grave Into the! hand of the bright angel of a Christian re-1' surrection. In answer to ypur father's peti-J tion and your mother's prayer I have been! sent of the Lord out of heaven to bo voor. guardian spirit. Come with me," said the; good angel in a voice of unearthly symphony. It was music like that which drops from a lute of heaven when a seraph breathes on it "No, no," said the bad angel; "come with j me; I have something better to oflfer. The wines I pour are from chalices of bewitching, carousal; the dance I lead is over floor teg-; . sellated with unrestrained indulgences; there/ is no God to frown on the temples of sin; , J where I worship. The skies are Italian Thai paths I tread are through meadows, uaisied' and primrosed. Come with me." | I The young man hesitated at a time when. hesitation was ruin, and the bad angelt smote the good angel until it departed,! spreading wings through the starlight upward and away until a door flashed open in the sky and forever "the wings vanished.* | That was the turning point in that young. mnn'o hiofnro fnr fhA irnntl flowJlL a? hesftatecf no longer, but started a patjjL. Way which is beautiful at th<j bpening, but Masted at lagt. Jh.? baj a^gel, leading the WSy, zp&Sd pate after gate, and at each! g4te the ?6&d became rougher and fhe sky, | more lurid, and, what wai peculiar, as the gate slammed shut it came to wifh a jar that Indicated thqt it would never ofieh. . .2E>Passed each portal there was a grinding, of locks and a shoving of bolts, and the seenDry oh either side of the road changed frjjS gardens to deserfa, and the June air becSmer a cutting December blast, and the bright wings of the bad angel turned to sackcloth, and the eyes of light became hollow with hopeless grief, and the fountains, that at the start had tossed with wine, poured forth bubbling tears and foaming blood, and on the right side of the road there was a serpent, and the man said tothebad angel, "What is that serpent?" and the answer was. "That is the serpent of stinging remorse." On the left side the road there was a lion,' and the man asked the bad angel. "What is that lion?" and the answer was. "That is tho lion of all devouring despair." A vulture flew through the sky, and the man asked the bad angel. "What is that vulture?" and the answer was, "That is the vulturo waiting for the carcasses of tho slain." And then the man began to try to pull off him the folds of something that had wound him round and round, and he said to the bad angel, "What is it that twists me in this awful convulsion?" and the answer was. "That is the worm that never dies." And then the man said to the bad auj?ei: "What does all this mean? I trusted in what you said at the corner of Broadway n* 1 Houston street; I trusted it all, and why have you thus deceived me?" Then the last deception fell off the charmer, aud it said: "I was sent forth from the pit to destroy yoursoul. I watched my chance for many a long year. When you hesitated that night on Broadway, I trained my triumph. Now you are here. Ha, ha! You are here. Come, let us 111! these two chalices of lire and drink together to darkness and woe and death. Hail, hail!" Oh, young man! will tho >;ood angel sent forth by Christ or the bad angel sent forth by sin get the victory over your soul? Tueir wings are interlocked this moment above you. contending for your destiny, its above the Apennines eagle and condor light mid-sky. This hour may decide your destiny. Cattle Statistics. The statistics givon by Secretary Morton show that the cattle crop for the present year is nearly 1,000,000 less than that of the year preceding. Domestic servants are so scarce in Montreal, Canada, that housekeepers visit tbe city "prisons on the lookout for candidate.