The Sun.
London, England, 1870-08-29 00:00:00

BEFORE AND AFTER THE WAR.

Let us transfer ourselves for a moment to the extreme
frontier of France, on the little river Saar, and close to
the main line of operations selected by the French and
Prussian armies. "We will put the date at the 16th of
July, or less than one brief month'ago. We are at the
inn door of the small town of Sarragttemines, looking
out beyond the slender stream that separates us from
Prussian soil. The Saar winds placidly between its
low, flat banks, and " disappears gracefully," says the
French correspondent,whose eyes we borrow for the occa-
sion, "behind a screen of poplars." On the other side is
a neat little cottage home, with white curtains and yellow
blinds at the windows, and in the tiny garden that slopes
down to the river side a peasant saunters quietly, pipe in
mouth, caressing his dog, who gambols beside him.
Peeping over the green top of a gentle acclivity is the
sharp spire of a small village church. Near by is a wide
field of waving grain, and on the rustic road that descends
to the edge of the Saar is a hay waggon of quaint
construction, drawn lazily by four sleek oxen.
The driver, in a blouse and pantaloons of coarse linen,
his brows screened with a straw hat, lazily swings his ax-
goad and hums a country song of the ,Fatherland. Sud-
denly the scene is enlivened by a group of chubby, flaxen-
haired children, who emerge from the cottage and
clatter down the garden walk, the youngest clinging to
the hand of an elder sister, herself not six years old.
A grim Zouave who is near us on the French bank
leans against the vine-covered doorpost of the
inn where we are standing, and involuntarily
smiles as lie looks out upon this pastoral little
piotuie in an enemy's country. An enemy? Poor little
home•on the verdant slope on the farther bank - does it
shelter enemies? And those humble peasants, all uncon'
scions of the wrong that even now holds murder and ruin
over their heads ; those playful children, laughing in the
sunshine, are they also to be 010 victims of the infernal
orgie which madmen call "glorious war?" Even so.
Beind yon green meadows and poplars and waving
grain fields lies the gathering might of an indignant
nation, while here are concentrating the mar-
tial terrors of an empire famous for its fearful
energy in warfare. A few days more and all
this peaceful scene will have disappeared ; these banks
will be stained with human blood ; fire and havoc will
have scattered for ever that humble home and its help-
less occupants—the peasant and his little ones—and all
that makes the domestic groupt at which we now gaze so
charming, even in their unpretending humbleness, to the
true heart. Yet this is no mere fancy sketch. Such is
an accurate portrayal; although feebly given, of just.the
scenes that were witnessed, only the other day, along the
streams and in the' smiling- valleys that unite, not
separate, the " fair land of France and thrifty, hard-
working Rhenish Prussia and Bavaria.—New York Herald
of August the 13th.

THE LADIES' RELIEF .COMNIITTEES SOFT-
ENING THE HORRORS OF WAR.

Dreary indeed would be the record of the moment in
Europe to our boasted civilization were it not for the
blessed inspirations which impel the gentle bands of
woman to those deeds that, in their way, are infinitely
more glorious than the proudest martial achievements. It
is questionable whether the pen of the future historian
will linger with more effect among the narratives that
describe the gallantry of the heroes who stormed the
Malakoff and the Medan at Sebastopol, or those that glow
with the still loftier devotion and more enduring courage
of the Sisters of Charity, who braved danger and death in
every form—the shot of the enemy, the bitter inclemen-
cies of a Crimean winter, the, pestilential infection of
crowded camps and fetid hospitals--simply that they
might alleviate the sufferin.;s of the poor soldier
fighting and dying there to further the purposes of
kings and courts. The cold annals of mere war may
accord to the commanders who won the fray the chaplet
of military fame ; but the brightest lines on even their
pages glow with heavenly warmth and light as they men-
tion the name of Florence Nightingale and the noble
women who had preceded and who accompanied her. In
our own terrible civil war the female relief committees
who toiled in the towns and exposed their own health and
lives close to the battle-field performed a work which was
blessed to the objects of their tender kindness at the
moment, and which gradually became a golden link of
revived sympathy and friendship between the warring
sections. The horrors of a conflict which often found
father arrayed against son and brother against brother
were made greatly less by these angelic ministra-
tions, and the fury of resentment against the
hand that inflicted the wound melted away in tears
and gratitude at the touch of the gentle hand that
tended it. We are recalled to these reflections, in the
midst of the mournful feeling that the new outbreak of
war in Europe awakens, by reading of the preparations in
progress in many of the French and German cities to
form active and efficient female relief associations for the
succour of the wounded. The Sisterhood of Mercy in all
its branches is already in the field, and Miss Nightingale
from her own bed of illness has transmitted to Paris such
written hints and instructions as her arduous experience
has qualified her to give for the benefit of such societies`
as may there be formed by ladies volunteering, but
unused to the service. The wife of Marshal Canrobert
has organised an association " to help the wounded on the
field of battle," and in a heartfelt appeal reminds her
countrywomen of what was done by 'their American
sisters during the civil war, when, as she says, " they
collected more than sixty-five millions of francs and
obtained the magnificent result that out of a hundred
wounded they were able to save ninety-five." Let
every French heart," adds this noble lady, "listen to our
voices ; we hold out the hand for those who are about to
suffer." And our own kind countrymen in Paris have
not been slow to answer the common call to humanity-
They have formed a Ladies' Branch of the American In-
ternational Sanitary Committee, with Mrs. Anson G.
Burlingame at its head, and many of the wealthiest, most
active, and most distinguished American names abroad
are on the list of members. They are even now vigor-
ously at work with high succes This good example is
imitated in all the leading French and German cities,
and promises the most gratifying results. At the sight
the nations thus ruthlessly dragged into collision are partly
consoled ; the warrior advancing to the field of carnage is
cheered ; the pained heart of humanity is touched with
an emotion which is the beginning of an enduring hope
that these divine influences will yet prevail even in our
time, and that the hour foretold by the whispered encou-
ragement and prayer which the mangled soldier hears
beside his pillow may no longer be distant when theC rose
shall forever put aside the sword.--New York Herald.

During the greater part of Friday a fire was raging
on the farm premises of Mr. Original Mackness, Coning-
ton Huntingdonshire, near to Sawtrey. A strong north
wind was blowing at the time, and a great quantity of farm
produce was destroyed, the yard being full of this year's
crops.

FEARFUL RAILWAY ACCIDENT.—A telegram from
Hagenau to. Le Gaulois states that a deplorable railwaY
accident happened on the 21st. A train full of troops
came in collision with a van loaded with provisions. There
were many killed and wounded. Among the dead was a
Prince whose name was unknown.