The L'Anse sentinel. (L'Anse, L.S., Mich.) 18??-current, 1898-04-23

looking carefully after his apparel, re-
Numbering 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, until
her prays, and counsels, and suffers,
until her strength gives out and she
fails. She is going, and attendants,
bending over her pillow, ask her If she
has any message to leave, and she
makes great effort to say something,
but out of three or four minutes of in
distinct utterances they can catch but
three words: "My poor boyl" The
simple fact is she died for him. Life
for life. Substitution!
About thirty-eight years ago there
went forth from our northern and
southern homes hundreds of thousands
of men to do battle. All the poetry of
war soon vanished and left them moth
ing but the terrible prose. They
waded l1nec-kcep in mud. They slept
in snowbanks. They marched till their
cut feet tracked the earth. They were
swindled out OF their honest rations,
and lived on meat not fit for n dog.
They had jaws fractured, and eyes eX-
tinguished, andC limbs shot away.
Thousands of them cried for water AS
they lay on the field the night after the
battle and got it not. They We're home
sick, and received no message from
their loved ones They died in barns,
in bushes. in bitches, the buzzards of
the summer heat the only attendants
on thcir obs cquies. NO one, but the
infinite God who knows everything
knows the ten thouSandth part of the
len 9Th, and breadth, and depth, and
height Of anguish of the northern and
southern battlcliclds Why did these
fathers leave their chi and go to
the front. and why did these young
men, posJponinE the marriage day,
start out into the probabilities OF never
coming back? For II principle they
Substitution!
But we need not go SO far. WHAT'S
that monument in the cemetery? 1t Is
TO the doctors who fell in the southern
epidemics. Why go? We're there not
enough sick to be attended in these
northern ATTITUDES? Oh, yes; but the
doctor puts IL few medical books in his
vdllse, and some Walls of medicine, and
leaves his patients here in the hands of
other physicians, and takes the rad
train. Before he gets to the infected
region he passes crowded rail-trains,
regular and extra, taking the flying
and atfrighted populations. He ar
rives in city over which "a great hor-
ror is brooiing He goes from couch
to couch, feeling the pulse and study
ing systems, and prescribing day after
day, night after night, until IA fellow
physician says: Doctor, you had bet
ter go home and rest; you look misera-
Bile. But he can not rest while SO
many are suffering. On and on, un-
til some morning finds him ia u
and then rises and says he mast go
and look after those patients. He is
told to lie down; but he fights his at
PENDANTS until he falls back, and is
weaker and weaker, and dies for peo-
pie with whom he had no kinshlp, aud
far away from his own family, and is
hastily put away in strangers tomb,
and only the fifth part of Il newspaper
line tells Us of his sLcritice-his name
just mentioned among five. Yet he
has touched the furthest height of sub
Unity in that three weeks of humani-
tartan service. lie goes straight as an
arrow to the bosom of Him who said
Il was sick and we visited me-" Life
for life. Blood for blood. Substitu-
tion
In the legal profession soc the same
principle of sclf-sacrifice. In 1916,
William Freeman, pauperized and idi-
otto negro, was at Auburn, n. Y, on
trial for murder. He had slain the en-
tire Van Nest family. The foaming
wrath of the community could be kept
off him only by armed constablcs
Who would volunteer to be his counsel?
No attorney wanted to sacrifice his
popularity by such an ungrateful task.
All were silent save one, young law
yer with feeble voice, that could hardly
be heard outside the bar, pale and thin
and awkward. 1t was William H.
Seward, who saw that the prisoner
was idiotic and Irresponsible, and
ought to be put in an asylum, rather
than put to death, the heroic counsel
uttering these beautiful words:
2 speak now in the hearing of peo-
pie who have prejudged prisoner and
condemned me for pleading in his be-
half. He is a convict, a pauper, a ne
gro, without intellect, sense or emo
ton. My child with an affectionate
smile disarms my careworn face of it's
frown whenever cross my threshold.
The beggar in the street obliges me to
give because he says: God bless your
as l. pass. My dog caresses me with
fondness if will but smile on him.
| My horse recognizes me when fill his
manger. What reward, what graft.
tude, what sympathy and affec.
ton can l expect here? There
| the prisoner sits. Look at him.
! Look at the assemblage around
! you. Listen to their Unsurpassed
censures and excited fears, and tell me
where among my neighbors or my fell
lowmen, where, even in his heart,
can expect to find a sentiment, 8
thought, not to say of reward or of &c
acknowledgement or even of recognition
Gentlemen, you may think Of this evi
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