Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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WEEKLY EDITION. WIXySBOEO, S. C.. WEDNESDAY. NOVEMBER 16, 1861. ESTABLISHED IN 1848. ^ THE BLACK ROBE BY "WILKIE COLLINS. ?AUTHOB OP? "THE "WOMAN IN WHITE," "THE MOON STONE," "AFTEBDAES," ';NO NAiTE," L. " J1AN AND WIFE," "THE LAW AND |P* THE LADY," " THE NEW iUQDALEN," ETC., ETC. CHAPTER XII.?(CONTINUED. ) Lr.-ly Loring's carnage was waiting at fTto rnfranca of the street, with all tlie children in the neighborhood assembled to admire it. She impulsively forestalled the servant in opening the carriage door. "Come in," she cried. "Oh, Stella, yon don't know how you Lave frightened me! Good heavens, you look frightened yourself! From what wretches havo I rescued you ? Take my smelling-bottle and tell me all about it." The fresh air and the reassuring presence of her old friend revived Stella. She was able to describe her interview with the General's family, and to answer the inevitable inquiries which the narrative called forth. Lady Loring's last question was the most important of the series: * " What are you going to do about Eomayn3 ?" "I am going to write to him the moment we get home." The answer seemed to alarm Lady Loring. " You won't betray ?" she said. .. " TVhat do you mean ?" " You won't let Piomayne discover that I have told you about the duel Y" "Certainly not. You shall see my " letter before I send it to be forwarded." Tranquillized so far, Lady Loring bethought herself next of Major Fynd. "Can we tell him what you have done?" her ladyship asked, r K "Of course we in tell him," Stella replied. " l snail conceal notmng irom ^ LordLoring; and I shall beg your good husband to write to the major. He need only saj that I have made the necessary inquiries, after being informed of the circumstances by you, and that I have communicated the jfavorable result to 5 Mr. Bomayne." ''It's easy enough to write the letter, my dear. But it's not so easy to say C what Major Hynd may think of you." "Does it matter to me vnai ^uajor Hynd thinks?" Lady Loring looked at Stella with a V malicious smile. " Are yon equally indifferent," she said, <;to what Bomayne's opinion of your conduct may be?" Stella's color rose. " Try to be serious, Adelaide, when you speak to me of Eomayne," she answered; gravely. "Ilis good c pinion of me is ^ the breath of my life." An hour later the all-important letter mu to Romayne was written. Stella scruv " pulonsly informed him of all that had happened? with two necessary omissions. In the first place nothing was ^ said of th^ widow's reference to her son's death, a. 1 of the effect produced ' ' by it on bis younger brother. The boy was simply described as being of weak intellect, and as requiring to be kept Tinder competent control. In the second . place Romayne was left to infer that Jl ordinary motives of benevolence were R ; the only motives, on his parr, known to K Mis~ Eyrecourt. y The letter ended in these lines: E'; If I have taken ail undue liberty in venturing, nnasked, to appear as your representative, I can only plead that I meant well. It seemed to me to be hard . on these poor people, and not just to * ' you in your absence to interpose any needlecr"" ?ielavs in carrving out those kind inW ^of -ours, which had, no y doubt,.been p*. ?j considered beforehand. In forming y?r? opinion of my conduct, pray remember that I have been careful rob to compromise you in any way. You are known only to TVfannm nc n cnmns^fiinTif.rp % person "who offers to help her, and -who wishes to give that help anonymously. If, notwithstanding this, you disapprove of what I have done, I must not conceal U that it wil* grieve and humiliate me?I Bp have beer, o eager to be of use to you, when others appeared to hesitate. I fee must find my consolation in remembering that I have become acquainted with one of the sweetest and noblest of worker, and that I have helped to pre serve -^uucieu t>uu iiuui uauyeia in the future which I cannot presume to estimate. You will complete what I have only begun. Be forbearing and kind to me if I have innocen tly offended in this matter?and I shall graietully remember the day when I took it on myself to be Mr. Rom acre's almoner." Lady Ijoring read these concluding ^ " sentences twice over. | " I tliink the end of your letter vrill rave its effect on him," she said. I "If it brings me a kind letter in reLly," Stella answered, " it will have all the effect I hope for." i; " If it does anything, Lady Loring >joined, " it will do more than that." >" What more can it do?" " My dear, it can bring him back to ^hesenbpe fnl words seemed rather to . tie Stella than to erc?>urage Lvr. j 1 BringIiiui bach to me ?" she repeatli Oil, Adelaide, I wish I could Si* <? ~ v> Vlll'k SrS VU UU k B Send the letter to the post," saiu iaas ?pdv Loring, 14 ami we shall see." BLKAPTER XTII.?FATHER BEXVTELl/s COREESFONDEXCT j ' ihitr T other Benicell. b "'Keverend and Dear Father?Whei Br,vst Lad the honor of seeing yoti I re K *ed your instructions to report, bj f ] ar, the resnlt of my conversations ;eligion with Mr. Romayne. P? As events have turned out it is ^ needless to occupy your. time by dwelling at any length on this subject, ii ^ writing. Mr. Eomayne has been strong ly impressed by the excellent book: which J. have introduced to his notice He raises certain objections which ] liavc done my best to meet; and h* ? promises to consider my arguments wit! his closest attention in the time to come ' ... ! I am happier in the hope of restori: : his mental tranquillity?in other ar i worthier words, of effecting his conve sion?than I can tell you in anj wok of mine. I respect and admire, I mi ! almost say I Jove, Mr. Homayne. " The details which are wanting ; j this brief report of progress, I sha have the privilege of personally rehitk to you. Mr. Eomayne no longer desiri i to conceal himself from his friends. E received a letter this morning whic : has changed all his plans, and h; I decided him on immediately returnii to London. I am not acquainted wit i fltA Ipffpr nr with tT I name of tho writer, but I am please< for Mr. Romayne's sake, to see that tl reading of it has made him happy. "By to-morrow evening I hope 1 i present my respects to you." n. i I Mr. Biti alee to Father Heme ell. "Sib?The inquiries which I ha^ | instituted, at your request, have prove i successful in one respect. "I am in a position to tell you thj | events in Mr. "Winterfield's life ha^ i Tinnnrsftnn.il>!v fionnnrted Iiim with tl ! young lady named Miss Stella Eyr< ; court. I " The attendant circumstances, hot | ever, are not so easy to discover. Judg I ing by the careful report ~f the perso | whom I employ there mil *t have bee i serious reasons, in this cas , for keepin i facts secret and witnesses out of tL ; way. I mention this not to discourag | you, but to prepare you for delays tha ; may occur on our way to disc overy. i " Be pleased to preserve your conf | dence in me, and give me time?and j answer for tue result. THE END OF THE FEuST BOOS. BOOK THE SECOXD. CHAPTER I.?THE PICNIC DANCE. i A fine spring, after a winter of ui ! usual severity, promised well for th ! prospects of tlie London season. Among the social entertainments c i the time general curiosity was excite : in the little sphere, which absurdl I dpsnrihps itself nndpr tliA l>i<r namA r ! society, by tlie announcement of a part | to be given by Lady Loring, bearin | tlie quaint title of a picnic dance. Th | invitations were issued at an unusuall J early liour, and it was understood ths j nothing so solid and so commonplace a I the customary supper was to be offere ! to the guests. In a word, Lady Loi | ing's ball was designed as a bol i protest against late hours and heav | midnight meals. The younger peopl j were all in favor c.f the proposed reforn ! Their elders declined to cdve an opinio beforehand. In the small inner cir .e of Lad ; Loring's most intimate fi-.ends it wa whispered that an innovation in th matter of refreshments was contemplate which wonld put the tolerant principle of the guests to a severe test. Mis y3Zvtman, the housekeeper, politel ! threatening retirement -,n a sma] j annuitv, since the memorable affair c j the oyster omelette, decided on carrvin ! out her design when she heard tha j there was to be no supper. " My at ! tachment to the family can bear a grea j deal," she said. "But when Lad Loring deliberately gives a ball, witl | out a supper, I must hide my hea ; somewhere?and it had better be out c j the house!" Taking Miss Notman s | representative of a class, the receptio : of the coming experiment looked, t j say the least of it, doubtful. On the appointed evening the guesl made one agreeable discovery whe they entered the reception rooms?the were perfectly free to amuse themselv* as they liked. The drawing-rooms were given up f dancing, the picture gallery was devote to chamber music. Chess-players an card-players found remote and qui* rooms especially prepared for then People who cared for nothing but tall ing were accommodated to perfection i a sphere of their own. And lovers (i : earnest or not in earnest discoverec in a dimly-lit conservatory with man recesses, that ideal of discreet retir< ment which combines solitude and S( - - i .1? ? | uuuw vi?c iwx. But the ordering of the refreshmenl failed, as had been foreseen, to share i the approval conferred on the arrang< mcnt of the r * The first irnpre; j sion was t - ->le. Lady Lorinj I however. jugli of human natui t.o leave 1 to two potent alliesexperience and time. Excepting iho conservatory, tb astonished guests cculd go nowhei without discovering tables prettil decorated with flowers, and bearin ! 1 hundreds of little pure white chin plates, loaded with nothing but sand wiches. All varieties of opinion wei consulted. People of ordinary tastes who liked to know what they were ea1 ing, could choose conventional beef c ham, incased in thin slices of bread c a delicate flavor quite new to then; Other persons, less easily pleased, vrei tempted by sandwiches of pate de foi gras, and by exquisite combinations c chicken and truffles, reduced to ! creaciy pulp Thich hung to the brea ! like butter. Foreigners, making exper J ments, and not averse to garlic, discov j ered the finest sausages of Germany an \ Italy transformed into English sane ! n*i/?1ioa and sardinf appeared in tlie same unexpected wa to men who desire to create an artifici: thirst ? after Laving Srsi, asce: tained that the champagne w? ! something to be fondly remen j bered and regretted, at oth< i parties, to the end of the season. T1 I hospitable profusion of the refreshment j was all-pervading and inexhaustibL ! "Wherever the guests might be, or ho^ i ever they -were amnsing themselve j there were the pretty little white plat* I perpetually tempting them. Peop ! eat as they had never eat before, ar i the inveterate English prejudice again: 1 j anything new was conquered at las _ Universal opinion declared the picn: j dance to be an admirable idea, perfect ' I carried out. _ ! Many of the gnests paid their hoste the compliment of arriving at the ear : ? a- -3 *- xi. | nour meiuicnsa iu uiu iu>*tatiuu 1 i One of then was Major Hynd. La< i | Lcri^g took Iier first opportunity . ; speaking to liim apart. : ! "I hear you were a little ancnw," s: I * " . i i said, "when you were told that Mi 1 Eyrecourt bad taken your inquiries o . ' of your hands." is "I thought it rather a bold proceedid ing, Lady Loring," the major replied r- " But as the General's widow turned 1 Is out to be a lady, in the best sense of the j 1 iv word, Miss Eyi ecourt's romantic adven-i ture has justified itself. I wouldn't re- j 1 commend her to run the same risk a ' ] U second time." ' ' 3 " I suppose you know what Iiomayne ^ ss thinks of it ?" * " 1 "Not yet. I have been too busy to call on him since I have been in town. ' 13 Pardon me, Lady Loring, who is that | ! beautiful creature in the pale yellow dress ? Surely, I have seen her some10 , * where before?" j ' "Tlinf liPrmHfnl pwnhirp moinr io 16 the bold voting lady ox whoso conduct | you don't approve." i . ,0 " Miss Eyrecourt? "Yes." " I retract everything I said!" cried 3 the major, quite shamelessly. " Such e a woman as that may do anything. She :d is looking this way. Pray introduce [ ? _?? j me. it The major was introduced, and Lady re Loring returned to her guests, to " I think we have met before, Major > Hynd," said Stella. Her voice supplied the missing link in the major's memory of events. Ee- \ memboring how she had looked at Eo3 n mayne on the deck of tho steamboat, he ( n becau dimlv to understand Miss Evre- , I o court's otlicrwi.se incomprehensible 16 anxiety to "bo of use to the General's family 1 "It was on the passage from Bou. ] logne to Folkestone, anil my friend was 1_ with me. You and he have no doubt * met since that time " He jmt the question as a mere formality. The unexpressed thought in him was : " Another of them in love with Iiomayne ; and nothing, as usual, likely to come of l- it" i " I hope you have forgiven mo foi going to Camp's Kill in your place," ? said Stella. )f " "I ought to be grateful to you," the major rejoined. " No time has ^been ^ lost in relieving these poor people, and j y your powers of pursuasion have sue- j ceeded where mine might have failed. ^ ^ Ua o T? atv\ Ia c r\r\ rv> ca! f g 11CIO XlV/iUbtJUU UtCU LV Ci-L^JLLX i_l.i.lXi.0^i.Jk j j v since his return to London ? "No. He desires to remain unknown, ^ ig and he is kindly content, for the pres<1 ent, to be represented by me." j r. "For the present ?" Major Hynd red peated. y A faint flush passed over her delicate f e complexion. "I have succeeded, she ^ i. resumed, " in inducing Madam Mariln lac to accept the help, offered through g me, to her son. The poor creature is j 7 safe, under kind superintendence, in a . s private asylum. So far, I can do no e more." ' ^ " Will the mother accept nothing?" " !S "Nothing, either for herself or her ,s daughter, s^Jlong as they can vork. I . y 4. i ^ v;auiiwu ten u 11 v?? auu L beautifully she speaks cf her hard lot. ? 1 But her health may give way- -i<i>d it is ? possible, before long, that I may leave r 1 London." She paused; the flush deep- * . ened on her face. " The failure of the k iD r mother's health may happen lii rnj ^ absence," she continued, " and Mr. Bomayne will ask you to look after the 1 , famih*, from time to time, while I am 1 )f awav. is , u "I will do it with pleasure, Miss ;o Eyrecourt. Is Bomayne likely to be here to-night?" CM nTXOTT i g OLLtf amiitJU auu iuuacu a, > a,j . n The major's curiosity was excited-he <y looked in the same direction. There js was Eomayne, entering the room, to answer for himself. ? ;o What was the attraction which drew J d the unsocial student to an evening j d party? Major Hynd's eyes were on the s it watch. When liomayne and Stella 8 1- shook hands the attraction stood self- I t revealed to him in Miss Eyrecourt. s ^ Recalling the momentary confusion r n which she had betrayed when she spoke e of possibly leaving London, and of * J Eomayne's plans for supplying her 1 place as his almoner, the major, with c > miiitary impatience of delays, jumped to a conclusion. "I was wrong,'' he c thought, "my impenetrable friend is 1 n touched in the right place at last. When { me spiencuu. creature iu vexruw leaves j 5* London, the name on her luggage will c >* be Mrs. Romavne." f* ? " You are looking quite another man, j; Romayne!" he said, mischievously, \ "since we met last." i 8 . T Stella moved gently away, leaving 1 them to talk freely. Romayne took no ^ advantage of the circumstance to admit ? his old friend to his confidence. Whata ever relations might really exist between . Miss Evrecourt and himself were evidently kept secret thus far. "My health has been a little better lately," (r was the only reply he made. ^ The major dropped his voice to a whisper. ,e " Have yon not had any return " he began. Romayne stopped him there. "I don't want mv infirmities made a ^ public." he whiskered back irritably. ( a j * - 1 "Look at the people all round us! i "When I tell you I have be en better (l lately, you ought to know what it j means." ? ;3 " Any discoverable reason for the im- \ ,y provement?" persisted the major, still ? ij bent on getting evidence in support of r. bis own private conclusions. j ts j "None!'' Roniayne answered,sharply. < i- .But Major nd was not to be dis- 1 5r couraged by sharp replies. 1 ie j "Miss Evreeourt and I hare been r is recalling our first meeting on board the : ( a. steamboat," ho went on. "Do yon ; ] 7- reniember how indifferent von were to 11 i ;. s, that beautiful person when I asked you ! ' is if you knew her? I'm glad to see that! le you show better taste to-night. I wish I 11 l<3 knew her well enough to shake Lands i st j as yon did." 1 t. I "Hvnd! "When a young man talks ! ic nonsense Lis youth is his excuse. At ] j ly your timo of life you have passed the j ] excusable age?even in the estimation i i ss of your friends." j 1 ly With .those words Iiomayne turned j ts. away. The incorrigible major instantly ; lv met the reproof inflicted on him with s : of smart answer. j |? " Iiemember," he said, " that I was the i 3 be first of your friends to wish you happi- j5 S3 ness." He, too, turned awav?in the , , J direction of the champagne and sand- 1 wiches. f "Meanwhile Stella had discovered Penrose, lost in the brilliant assemblage of guests, standing alone in a corner. It was enough for her that Romayne's secretary was also Romayne's s Eriend. Passing by titled and celebrated personages, all anxious to speak to her, p she joined the shy, .nervous, sad-looking t little man, and did all she could to set t' him at his ease. " I am afraid, Mr. Penrose, this is not j i very attractive scene to you. Having t' =aid those kind words, she oaused. s. Penrose was looking at her confusedly, c but with an expression of interest h nrhich was new to her experience of ? bim. "Has Eomajne told him?" she ^ wondered inwardly. ^ " It is a very beautiful scene, Miss t< Eyrecourt," ho said, in his low, quiet tones. ' ? "Did you come here with Mr. Kocnayne?" she asked. ! n "Yes. It was by his advice thatllp iccepted the invitation with which i 5 Lady Loring has honored me. I am | a sadly out of place in such an assembly f< is this, but I would make far greater a sacrifices to please Mr. Romayne." ^ She smiled kindlv. Attachment so ^ irtlessl;? devoted to the man she loved c pleased aud touched her. In her anx- ^ iety to discover a subject which might ^ interest him she overcame her antipathy ^ bo the spiritual director of the house- 3 bold. . " ti " Is Father B enroll coming to us to- to aightr" she inquired. ~ " Ho will certainly be here, Miss g. Eyrecouri, if lie can get back to Lon- r< Ion in time." S] "Has he beei long away?" ^ " Nearlv a week." ^ " K Not knowing what else to say, she still paid Penr. se the compliment of b feigning an interest in Father Bemvell. E " Has he a long journey to mako in J, returning to London?" she asked. ^ "Yes?all the way from Devonshire." t( ctT? O T\ 1. _OI? V --xruiu oouin jL/evoiisuii-e.'' u "No. North Devonshire?Olovelly.' ^ The smile suddenly left her face. She ? proceeded composedly, but without c, juite concealing the effort that it cos! j h: ler, or the anxiety with which she n: vaited for the reply, to her next qnes- ^ ;ion. " I know something of the neighbor- S( lood of Clovelly," she said. "I^ondei t< vhether Father Benwell is visiting auj 11 ;riends of mine there?" " I am not able to say, Miss Eyre:ourt. The reverend father's letters are h orwarded to the hotel?I know no more i* hau that." ^ "With a gentle inclination of her head Q. ;he turned toward the other guests, p ooked back, and, with a last little cour d eous attention offered to him, said: "If r< ou like mnsic, Mr. Penrose, I advise ^ ou go to the picture-gallery. They tl ire going to play a quartet by Mozart." S Penrose thanked her, noticing tha" ^ ler voice and manner had become itrangely subdued. She made her way ^ >ack to the room in which the hostess Ji eceived her guests. Lady Loring was ft or a moment alone, resting on a sofa. * Stella stooped over her and spoke in :autiously-lowered tone3 : | Vl "If Father Benwell comes here to- j t] light," she said, " try to find out what j o: te has been doing at Cloveily." ^ "Clovelly?" Lady Loring repeated. ! w 'Is that the village near Winterfield's i f< iouce ?" I tl " Yes." I E (To be Continued.) | P ! P t( Pet Birds. w o; Pretty Polly is always a favorite. The ^ jray bird is the most docile and intelli- g" ^ent, and the best talker, as well as the ^ argest?measuring from ten to twelve a nches in length. The bill is black, o: trong and much hooked, and the orbit ^ md the space between them is covered rith a bald and white skin. The entire y( )ody is of a Combined pearl-gray and g ;late color, and the feathers of the head, leek and under part of the body are w idged with a grayish white. The toes a; .re gray, tinged with red, and the tail ai s of a deep, light scarlet. The gray f )arrot is healthy and long lived, sixty a] >r seventy years being the average. 0] The Green Parrot, from the regions ^ >f the Amazon, South America, is ^ learly as large as the gray bird; the iravni 1 inor nnlrvr nf it.fi nlirmP-trA is hril- >.. iant greeD, but the back and under I c, >arts are tinted yellow. The fore part! ^ )f the head is of a blue tint, and the ; S1 hroat feathers are edged with a bluish a] jreen. This parrot talks well. A green s, >arrot of an inferior kind comes from ^ [Vest Indies. The pinion feathers are ^ ed and bine, and the head yellowish ed. b Parraketts are smaller birds, and their ^ >rominent Deeuliaritv is the length of i. he tail, generally exceeding that of the s. >ody. The yellow-billed Parrakeet-, r| rom Tasmania, is hardy and well p idapted for a caged life. The Rose-bill ^ Parrakeet, from Australia and Tasmania, ^ s one of the most beautiful birds of the ' Parrot family. Including the fine tail, ^ f. moQSTirpa aVinnfc thirteen inofioa Che head, sides of the face, back of the g. leek, and breast, are of a glowing scar- get, and a scarlet band passes over the -r ihonlders; the upper part of the throat ^ s of a pure white; the feathers of the 0 jack are black-green. In the wings ^ ilac color is mixed with black. The ^ ower part of the breast is yellow, u :hanging into light green on the abdo- C] nen. The Ground, Ringed (the latter vith a very long tail) and Grass Parra- ^ ceetf, are also very pretty birds. Lit- ^ le Love Birds, so named from the -j ilfectionate manner in which a pair sit ^ rCgether, are pretty little creatures, v scarcely six inches long. Cockatoos come from the Eastern a; Archipelago and Australia. They are 'Q argeand powerful birds, and the crest, rj ;omposed of a number of feathers which ie along the necK, except when the bird ^ s angry, and then they are erec'ed, and jpened and closed quickly like a fan. j rhe great "White and Silver crested j Dockatoos are the best known in Eng- " .and. Most of these birds can be ;aught to utter simple words and phrases. The magnificent Macaws, -with their j splendid bine and yellow plumage, are ' re-ell known. ^ Bread and milk is the staple food of ^ ill birds of the Parrot kind. Lay a ^ slice of stale bread in a pan, and soak it in warm water for a quarter of an iiour, and then pour enough scalding ^ milk on it to moisten it, without making ^ it pappy. Cleanliness of the cage, and ^ plenty of dry gravel are essential to the health of the bird. j. fc Young women don't monopolize all t the folly. Professor Da Costa, of Phila- t ielphia, has Lad under his care a young v mafi suffering from the effects of taking t irsenic to beauti'y his complexion. He v Svill probably never fully recover the t free use of his i?gs, which were par- t tially paralyzed and wasted by the flow e self-poisoning. : I HOW THE PRESIDENTS DIED. 'he Last Honrs ot the President* of the United .State*. Tlie death of General Garfield amid uch tragic and pathetic circumstances say render interesting some brief and detached notes npon the subject of the assing from life of his predecessors in he Presidential chair and the scenes atendinff their inhumation. "Washington took oold during a fiveoui-a' ride over his plantation on the 2th of December, 1799, during the last wo hours of 'which he was exposed to a ! harp storm of snow, hail and rain. The old declared itself next evening, when e was very hoarse, but he made light f it. "I never take anything for a cold," e said; "let it go f.s it came." At two ext morning he awakened his wife, but rould not let her rise to send for a^doc or lest slie siioum take coia. vvnen \ be secretary was called at daybreak he ! Dund "Washington breathing with difcnltv and hardly able to utter a word itelligibly. Doctors were sent for, and lean while he was bled and a gargle was repared, but on attempting to use it he ras convulsed and nearly suffocated, 'he doctor*' remedies were not of more vail, and ai 4:30 he sent his wife Di' his two wills, haif.'her destroy one nd intrusted the iving h^r instroeti^p^nSyHSreflSrer apers and accounted nd servant he* wasl^as COT^eous ana onsiderate as ever; bidding the latter, ho had been in the room standing by tie bed nearly all day, sit.^own. Between five and six, wnenl'&s^isted to sit p, "I feel I am going," He said to" the - -J- ciT iU 1. ~ r ? uuturb j "x LUtuxa. jvu iujl vuui at tenions, but I pray yon to tase no more rouble about me ; let me go oil quietly -I cannot last long." Further remeies tried without avail in the vening. "About ten," writes his sectary, "hb made several attempts to j peak to me before &e could efiect it. .t length he said : 'I am jast going; | ? J/ A..*\^l *T A /j <^/V T* /\4" 1A+ I li\v ine UCCCUWJ uu^icu,aixu. uv iivtxco iy body be put intojthe vault in less lan three days after I ^am dead.' I owed assent, for Leonid not speak, [e then looked at me and said: 'Do ou understand me?" I replied: 'Yes.' lis well,' said he. About ten. minutes efore he expired (which was between in and eleven o'clock) his breathing eeame easier. He lay quietly; he witlirew his hand from mine and felt his wn pulse. I saw. his countenance kcmoro onrl or>nlrA +r> TYr flrailr whn ime to the bedside. The General's and fell from liis wrist; I took it in line and pressed it to my bosom. Dr. raik put his hands over his eyes, and e expired without afccruggle or a sigh." he body was buried on the 18th, a jhooner being stationed off Alexandria ) fire minute-guns while the procession toved from the house to the vault. The oops, horse and foot, led the way; len came four of the clergy; then Washington's horse with his .saddle, olsters and pistols, led by two grooms i black; then the body borne by the tee Masons and officers, followed by le family and several old friends, mrintr +.ViPm T)r firaiV and some of the 'airfares; ti c corporation of Alexanria. At the tomb the Rev. Mr. Davis iad the funeral service and delivered brief address, after which the Free [asons performed their ceremonies and le body -was deposited in the vault, nch -were the death and burial of the rst and greatest of the Presidents. Tho second and third Presidents died a the semi-centennary of American in ependence, John A.', iras and Thomas efferson, the latter the writer and the >rmer the orator of the Congress of 77G ; the one the author of the Declaition of Independence, and the other pillar of its support and its ablest ad 2. . ? J3 -i - r ,i ? A Dcaie anu ueieuuer. aiuiuu an mucr-one preserved a remarkable activity E mind, though hi3 sight was impaired ) that he could neither read nor write, y April, 1826, it was evident that he as failing, though his neighbors hoped )ndly that he would be able to attend le local celebration of Independence ay. When, however, it became aparent that they would not have him in ave/vn or <?Avvnt?t3 t.VlA ni"ft. >r to visit liim and communicate their ishes for some last word or message f cheer. On Friday, the 30th of June, ie delegate called on Mr. Adams at a. m., and "spent a few minutes with im in conversation, and took from him toast to be presented on the Fourth f July as coming from him. I should ave liked a longer one, bnt, as it is, lis will be acceptable. 'I will give on,'said he, 'Independence Forever!' ie was asked if he would not add anyling to it, and he replied: 'Not a ord.'" The visitor was not too early, 5 symptoms of debility became more id more alarming. There was no sufiring, but respiration became more ad more difficult, till on the morning E the Fourth Dr. Holbrook predicted lat his patient would not last beyond inset. "Unceasing shouts" greeted ie toast offered at the Quincy banquet, ut as the guests left the hall news line of the aeatn 01 its autnor. ne ad passed away calmly and wichout lfiering at the sunset of that brilliant ad memorable day. "Ihomas JefFer)n still survives I" were the last words e uttered, so far as could be gathered om his failing articulation. Thomas Jefferson had died a few hours efore him. On the 24th of Jane he rote: "All eyes are opened or opening > the rights of mail. The general pread of the light of science has aliadv laid open to every view the palable truth, that the mass of mankind ave not been born with saddles on their acks, nor a favored few booted and purred, ready to ride them legitimately y the grace of God." He grew steady weaker until he lay upon his bed, jrene, painless, cheerful, in full possesion of his reason, but helpless and dyig. During the third of July he dozed our after hour, under the influence of piates, rousing occasionally and utter1 g a few words, conscious that his end as near, but fervently desiring to live ntil the day he had assisted to conserate fifty years before. At eleven at ight he whispered to Mr. N. P. Trist, is grandchild's husband, who sat by ie bed : "This is the Fourth ?"' Mr. 'rist remained silent, being unwilling > say "Not yet!" "This is the Fourth ?" gain whispered Jefferson, and when ie watcher nodded, "Ah!" h8 sighed nd sunk into sleep with an expression f satisfaction upon his countenance, 'hey thought him dying, but he linered until 12.40 in the afternoon, ccasionally indicating a desire by words r looks. "I resign my soul to God, nd my daughter to my country," is a opular version of his latest utterances. Madison left his mountain residence >f Montpelier but once after his retirelent in 1S17?to attend the Constituional Convention of 1829. He died une 28, 1S36, the last survivor of the igners of the Constitution. During :is last iilness, when the family and he doctor were at dinner, his voice ras heard feebly from the adjoining hamber: "Doctor, are you pushing bout tne bottles? uo your cuty loctor, or I must cashier you.-' Monroe ras the third President to die on Independence day; he passed away in this ity in 1831 at the residence of his sonn-Iaw, Samuel L. Gouverneur. 111lealth had compelled him to resign he Presidency of the Virginia Coustintional Convention. His remains . ere deposited with public honors in he Marble Cemetery on Second Street, rhere they reposed until 185S, when hey were removed under the escort of he Seventh Regiment, then oomaandea by Colonel Abram Duryee, to lolly wood Cemetery at Richmond, Va., I the occasion being memorable for th< enthusiastic warmth with which Nev* York's citizen soldiers were received bj their Southern brethren. John Qaincj Adams, "the old man eloquent," was found by death where he could have wished its approach, in the halls ol Congress. On Monday, February 21, 1S48, he ascended the steps of the Capitol with his accustomed alacritj and took his place in the House. While petitions were being presented, suddenly there was a cry of "Mr. A .1 r, ^ rviawV\n?-o +/v n.aa.ui3 : ituu a iusu ui uv wards bis seat. He was rising with s number of petitions in his hand wher he w,as struck with apoplexy and sank down, catching at his desk and falling into the arms of the member whc sprang across the aisle to his assistance, He was carried into the rotunda, ther into the Speaker's room. He attempted to speak, but his voice was a mere murmur, low and indistinct, though Mr, Ashmun, who was placing him on the sofa, thought he said : '-Last of earthcontent," intending to say: "This is xi. _ t - ? i- *1- T " TT/> me iasr. 01 eari.ii?jl am uuutcav. became insensible at ooce, and lingered, faintly breathing, till 10 o'clock or the morning of the 23d, when he expired in the presence of the officers oi the House. Mr. Adams' body was re"fiozs^Qia funeral, and after lying in state ic Faneuil Hall, was buried at Quincy. Jaokson died on Sunday, Jane 8,1845, at the Hermitage. For months he had been suffering from disease of the lungs, dropsy and diarrhoea, enduring the pains of his martyrdom with sublime patience. Almost to tho last he was pestered by office-seekers and hero-worshipers. His last writing was a statement to help his old friend and fellowsoldier. Robert Armstrong, to a pension. On the 30th of May lie gave Mr. Healy the last sitting for the portrait designed for Lonis Phillippe and with his elaborate courtesy congratulated the artist. Nightly he kissed and blessed each member of his family, bidding each a farewell as if for the last time; then offered earnest prayer for them and for his country. His Bible was always near him. On the Friday he gave directions concerning his funeral, and dictated a letter, his last, to the President, bidding him ?cfc promptly and resolutely in the affairs of Texas and Oregon. On the morning of his death, a brilliant, hot day, he bade an affectionate farewell to his family, friends and servants, whom he addressed with calmness, strength and even animation, on the subject of religion, concluding, "I hope and trust to meet you all in Heaven, both white and black ?both white and black," words he revxArtlft/l ? 4-Via o a/\<\r? oi< fl-i/a pcaucu. a^auj. iu tug ftutmuuu MO was coming on. blearing the servants on the piazza w<=" "_ig, he spoke again : " What is the matter with my dear children? Havel alarmed you? Oh, do not cry! Be good children, and we will meet in Heaven." At 6 he died, without a struggle or a pang. He was buried on Tuesday, beside the wife he had loved so fondly. Three thousand people were present at the serivces conducted upon the portico by Dr. Edgar. After a prayer, Jackson's favorite psalm was sung, "Why should we start and fear to die ?" a sermon was preached from the text, "These are they which came ont of great tribulation," and the serviae concluded with a hymn. Martin Van Buren died at Kinderhook, in. 1., at 2 a. ii., July hi, icbz, oi astnma that developed into a painful catarrhal affection of the throat and lnngs. For a year his health had been failing, and during the last week of his life his mind was wandering, though in his lucid intervals he manifested deep interest in public affairs. One of his last distinct utterances was to his clergyman, "There is but one reliance." He was buried on Monday, the 28th, a solitary fln/v flTT-in/r of koTf-Tnoof. and Vinf.Al *-"*6 J-v?v. and two other buildings being festooned with black. Only one organization was at tlio funeral?the Kinderhork Fire Company. Twelve old residents acted as pall-bearers. Harrison died April 4, 1841. He rode on horseback to his inauguration and stood bareheaded and without an overcoat to delivei his inaugural, contracted pneumonia aggravated by subsequent imprudences in exposing himself to the weather oi that bleak spring. His last words heard by Dr. Wortliington, were: ''Sir, I wish you to understand the true principles of the Government. I wish them carried out. I ask nothing more!" A procession two miles in length accompanied the body, drawn on a funeral-cax by sis white horses, to its temporary rest ing-piace in tne congressional ourymgground, -where the Episcopal service was conducted by Dr. Haveiey. Tylei was taken ill on Sunday, January 12, 1S65, while at breakfast at the Ballard House, Richmond, and died at midnight of tho 17th. "Let me give you some stimulant," said his doctor. "I wil] not have it," replied the dying man, and closing his eyes he passed awaj quietly. His body lay in state at the Capitol. He was a member of the Confederate Congress, and was interred with much pomp at Hollywood on the 21st, by Bishop Johns. Polk died June 15, 1849, three months after his retire/va?vi 4-It /\ "pTflciITa Vinp iliCULU iium UJJ^ AitvjiUWiivj. suffered from diarrhoea on the journey, and a recurring attack proved fatal. Or hi3 death-bed he received the rite ol baptism at the hands of a Methodisl clergyman, an old neighbor and friend, Taylor attended the Fourth of Jnh ceremonial in 1850, when the dust fron Kosciusko's tomb was deposited in th< Washington Monument, and endured for several hours the heat of a day he de clared worse than any he had" exper ienced in Mexico or Florida, (ioing home he insisted on eating freely ol unripe cherries and drinking cold wate] and iced milk, despite the remon strances of his servant, bringing on ar attack of cholera morbus and typhoid, of which he died on the 9 th. An im posing procession accompanied his re mains to the Congressional Cemetery the Episcopal service having previously been read in the East Room by Drs Butler and Dr. Pyne, Millard Fillmore died at Buffalo at 1] p. m. on Sunday, March 8, 1874, anc was buried on the 12th, after the bod] had lain in state in St. Paul's Cathedral Franklin Pierce passed away at a. m. on Friday, "October 8, 1869, at th< residence of Mr. Willard Williams Concord, N. H., of dropsy and inflam mation in th.9 stomach. For the las' three days of his life he was nearly un conscious, aad he died without pain His body lay in state at Doric Hall, anc was buried in the Minot Cemetery, or Main street, on the 11th. Jame: Buchanan died at Lancaster, Pa., a 8.30 on tho morning of Monday, June 1 1S6S, after an illness of one month though he had been sinking for nearly; year. Hi? last honrs were peaceful anc nearly painless. On the night befor* in's dpath hft trtiyp> detailed direction: for the ordering of his funeral and tin j erection of his monument, dictating th< inscription, a blank to be left for th , date of death, " which cannot be dis tant," he said. In the morning hi asked for a drink of water from th I spring, saying to the medical attendant j " Doctor, if disembodied spirits eve come back, I believe that mine wiil b found about that spring." Eis las authentic words as he sank into th sleep in which he died were : " Oh Lord God Almighty, as Thon wilt! His funeral took place on the 4th, th exercises being conducted by Dj Neven, President of Franklin am Marshall College, an immense con course being in attendanoe. The cii cumstances of iae death of Abrahar } I Lincoln and of his " funeral 1.500 miles : long," Lave been iully described. r Andrew Johnson died suddenly at r Greenville, TeDn., on Saturday. July 5 31, 1S75, aud was buried with Masonic ?j ceremonies on the 3d of August,?JVt-tr f | l'ork Herald. !; WORDS OF WISDOM. ' | Our deeds determine us as much as | ; we determine our deeds. ! The best lightning rod for your proi tection is your own spine. i There is no pleasure but that some : pain is nearly allied to it. ' Principles like troone of the line are 11 undisturbed and stand fast. The conditions of success are three? ^ j work, concentration and fitness. . j Genuine suffering often jests best, for ! it knows no idle longing for tears, s Knowledge, like religion, must be ' rperienced" in order to be known. ! Virtue dwells at the head of a river, 1 o which we cannot get but by rowing; ' against the stream. Poverty often deprives a man of all j j spirit and virtue. It is hard for an I _ empty bag to stand upright. f *&e ^^rsi fraits^fhey bear we learn what l may be expscted in the future. -Envy is a passion so full of cowardice and shame that nobody ever had the . confidence to own its possession. Great men should think of oppor1 tunity and not of time. Time is the 1 excuse of feeble and puzzled spirits. Memory can glean but can never renew. It brings us joy faint as the perfume of flowers?faded and dried, of the summer that is gone. Whoever makes a fuss about doing good, does very little ; he who wishes ' to be seen and noticed when he is doinf , good, will not do it long. To succeed in any of life's endeavors, , j be our talents what they may, we rej quire perseverance, decision and . j tenacity of will to reach the full measi ure of success. | ? j The Future Moter-Power. ? ?-t?- -e n j. "D_: . j ocienuuc men ui uxeuu jjmaiu uu: ject to the steam engine because it does i not meet the wants of the present fast ! age ; because it spends too much force | for the results it accomplishes, and for j the additional reason that it is fast con; suming the coal that will be wanted for j.heating purposes. They want a better force, more locomotion, quicker travel, less expense, and greater security. They want something that will propel canoes as well as ships ; that will run S6W.:ng machines as well as trip hammers ; that will draw pleasure carriages as well as railway cars. They desire a motor that I will not consume fuel, produce smoke, j or cause noise ; that can be managed by | a child and run, if desired, in a parlcr. j They want something that will do all j the steam engine does and many things ! beside. In the opinion of most of the scientists of Great Britain electricity is to take the place of steam in driving machinery and moving cars, and is to be generated bv the action of tides, winds, and filling water. They predict that wind-power will be utiii2ed to a greater extent than any persons in a previous age ever believed it would. "Wind will generate electricity for moving machinery, for lighting streets, and warming i dwellings in Ireland, Belgium, Den mark, and other countries where there ! are few streams that afford water-power, j The movement of tides will produce | the same effects in most countries that have an extensive sea-coast, while the fall of water in rivers and streams will generate electricity in all mountain regions. The great electrical exhibition at Paris is doing much to draw attention to what is called the motor power of the fature. 'A picture called " The Queen of the Nineteenth Century" hangs in many of the shop windows. It is a female figure surrounded with a | halo, and emitting rays of light from ! the hands, rchich are raised as if to enable the being to fly. The light gives I the arms the appearance of wings. The ! artist is an enthusiast, and is regarded ' i bv manv as a crophet. We all hope that his fair predictions will be realized. I The steam engine is a good thing, but ' i we are ready for something better. Now ! that attention is drawn to electricity, '! great results may be expected.? Chicago \ j Tribune. A Discouraged Housekeeper. ! "I think," said a New York lady, " the serenity of the housekeepers I have met since coming to Ohio, is marvelous. They have been burning soft coal these j ; i years, yet I do not see but their fore- j ! I 1h 's are as unfurrowed and their, hair j ' : ?, ichanged as the favored women of; '! the anthracite regions. I confess I T ' r\t\ye^A 4-r\ a r-A otitt nf T*OTT I ! peep into my bed-room yesterday morn ing, and see the forlorn object seated ^ on a hassock, actually crying, amid the > wreck of matter and the crush?of tin' ware. Imagine the scene. There had ; been a fire in the stove for a week or ! I [ mere, but it had gone out, the wind be> I ing contrary and the draught rot good. \ A large quantity of soot had accumulate ! ed in the pipe; it is astonishing how a : pipe can fill up with soot filaments ; I never saw anything like it before. The r feet of the stove did not fit very well; 1 paradoxically speaking, they were infirm 5 because they were not in firm. Very ! gently, I thought, I administered a ' shaking, which was soon followed by a qaaking; first one foot fell out, then > another, the stove careened, and, horror f nf Vi^-rrni-e t t.liA tali nnlnmn of THDe * swayed, and ' what a fall was there, my countrymen!' The soot poured itself i out upon the carpet; but 'twas the last drop in the bucket that drowned my amiability; for at the fatal moment, there happened to be a tin pail (New > York vocabulary) full of water standr ing on the stove. Id collapsed, and its . r??vnfrpnts meandered across the carpet /n devious ways, mingling with the eoot in a blackened tide ; and there, over the prostrate stove-pipe, I did not hesitate to declare my utter detestation of bituminous coal. I have faithfully scrubbed with ammonia my drenched carpet, yet the trail of the serpent is over it all. I suppose I shall get used to it; they all do, they say; but I don't feel a bit resigned as yet." Raffling for a Baby. In the early days of California women and babies were extremely rare, and ; one night at the theater in San Franciso when a baby set up a cry during the playing of the orchestra an excited miner rose in the gallery and shouted : " Stop them fiddles and let the baby cry. I haven't heard such a sound for ten years." Judging by a scene at Tucson, A. T., a Sunday or two ago, there is as great a a dearth of babies there as in the younger davs of San Francisco. Colonel Dean e found a richly dressed Mexican baby e lying on the grass, evidently abandoned by its mother, and crying at the top of r its voice. He laid claim to it, and was e soon surrounded by persons anxious for $ the prize. A Mexican lady offered $20 e for it. An American lady bid $50. A hundred others wanted the baby raffled ' off, declaring their readiness to take e tickets at any price. But the Colonel ._ concluded to adopt the baby himself, 3 and did so at the expense of being denounced as a selfish man who <vould .. give none of his fellow mortals a Q chance. GOLD AM) SILVER 3IIMNG. How >Iinlnc for the Preciou* Metal* Becnn In Thin Country?'The "Argonauts" of'49 and Their s>ucce>sor?, the Prospector*? What a Cold Placer it and its Relation to Quartz ."Uluiuir. Mining for the precions metals on the Pacific coast and in the Rocky mountains dates from the discovery of the yellow nuggets in the tail-race of Sutter's mill in California in ISIS; and frcm the "Argonauts," as they have been aptly styled, of the next year, the "old forty-niners," has sprung a class of men, the prospectors, who | have played no unimportant part in the history of the far West. Of all i the characters to be met with in the mining regions, the prospectors are the best worth knowing. They are rarely miners, that is, they never expect to engage in the systematic development of mines or to make their fortunes by the actual production of bullion. They are simply the discoverers of lodes and placers, and when fortune smiles upon them and ' 1 - - 1 -- te 3 >> Xl~ xney m&Ke "gooa Binb.es mev at uute become anxious to sell out and to move on to some new diggings -tfhere there are more new mines to discover. gold dust with, little labor: and the expenditure of a small amount of capital, the prospector will be content to remain for a few months upon a claim that he has "located." and work it, but as soon as the gravel begins to be "lean" he is pretty sure to sell out his interest and move on to new fields. Gold mining generally antedates silver mining, and the discovery and Ai flii* ln/?a _ upcratiuii ui i-uv tion and development of quartz veins or irregular deposits of ore in the rocks. A placer is a mass of alluvial sand and gravel, with, -which are mixed small particles of grains of gold. Placers are formed by the disintegration of the rocks of which the mountains are formed, smd a washing down of the loose particles by the streams which, swollen by the melting snows, become irresistible torrents at certain seasons of the year. If the rocks which are broken up by frosts and rains and the subtle chemistry of the atmosphere contain gold, the precious metal is released by the breaking up of the material that surrounds it, and, in small particles, is carried along with the remainder of the debris until the velocity of the water, as it approaches the valley where the declivity is less steep, is checked, and the solid matter which ha.s been carried along is dro2>ped in the bed of the river. This process, continued for ages, finally makes deposits o! great extent and thickness. Th place where a placer is found, if i+ c+ili mmoino in wat Ar-f?rm rs?_ is a "gulch." A canon in the mountains as distinguished from a gulch is that the former is generally narrower, with more precipitous sides and a steeper incline so that the water scours out all the sand aud gravel, leaving the bed-rock bare or covered only with large boulders and fragments of rocks i that are too heavy for the stream to more ; while in the gulch the material that has been brought through and out of the canon is precipitated. A majority of the streams of tbe Rocky mountains, and the Pacific coast are, during tbe greater part of the year, little rivulets that pick their way in winding courses through the beds of the great but short-lived rivers that roll down with resistless force when fed by the melting snows. These beds are therefore dry during the greater part of the year, and resemble the stony, gravelly beds of New England brooks when a summer drought has dried up the streams. As gold has a greater specific gravity tnan sana ana gravei, u is carried along by the water nearer the bottom than the remainder of the material, and is the first to drop and remain npon the bed-rock. The richest streaks are, therefore, generally found near the bottom of the deposit. In some cases placers have several strata?that is. there was first bnught down and left in the bed of the stream a large amount of material at the bottom of which is a rich streak of gold dust. Then, subsequently, deposits made by the stream when it was not large, and T?hich contain little or no gold, are made, and upon the top of those still other rich streaks have been left. The Mexicans call these strata of gold-bearin2r.xs;j&el "mantas," American jtofcmoT?* "pay streaks." In woriaservojlsace it is also frequently fftn o^ciiat the deposits of gold Iiavg r?^' oeen made regularly in lines parallel vs-ith the present direction of the stream, but extend off at angles, as the branches of a tree extend from its trunk. This arrangement has been caused by changes that have taken place in the direction cf the stream. - - -L A j/\r\ WJJCt; lb 11UVYCU. 1L. bUU uugvwvu v* branching pay streaks, but it has since been turned aside by rocks cr bends in the channel, or, as it turned a comer, a bar has been formed upon which the sand and gravel and the gold that is mixed with them was dropped. Some of the richest gold placers in the West have been formed by extinct streams. In Xew Mexico, a year ago, I saw gravel beds abounding in the yellow dust, covering thousands of acres, where no brook nor river now runs. They are the pulverized debris of prehistoric mountains which rose to much higher altitudes than their now abraded remains. Down the sides of these ancient hills great torrents poursd where now not even a rivulet can be found. Again great glaciers or other tremendous agencies of nature have sometimes deposited great hills or mountains over old river-beds so that, in mining, the courses of what appear to have been subterranean streams may be traced. In some instances the material of which these underground river beds are formed carries gold in considerable quantities, and, in California, especially, the su ? penncumoent mountains are <u?u ucquently rich placers. In the Golden state some of these mountains have j been removed by hydianlic power, the gold separated from the sand and gravel, J ited in the valleys, lilling them up to great depth. As placers are generally discovered in a new mining district before quartz mines, so those placers that are in the : beds of present streams are more easily ! found than those of ancient, extinct | risers or subterranean streams. The j earliest mining is in the gulches. That i there is gold in a region where it was j not before known to exist is generally ; first discovered by accident. A freshet | tears up the ioose sand and gravel on I the bed of a stream and carries it away, j exposing the particles of gold which I are too heavy to be moved by the water. | This was the way in which the first gold | was discovered in the stream at Sutter's ; mill in California. In New Mexico and j Arizona, where there are lar^e ancient i r\lar>&r with no water now run ?-? ?I ning through them, heavy rams somej cimes make gullies in the mesas or tablelands, and after the showers the Mexicans search along the bottoms of them ; and pick up the small particles of gold ! that are exposed and save them in little J vials made of gooseqv.ills. In the Black : Hills the Indians picked up these grains ; of gold and some large nuggets, anci ' knew where they could be found manv I years before white people went to that | country. A French Catholic missionary, ! Father de Sniet, who labored amongst j the Indians for many years, advisee : them as they prized their homes ?.nc 1 hunting grounds, never to let the white people see the golden nuggets which Jthey had collected, rightly believing that the Sioax would be immediately - V driven out and the white people would take possession of their country, treaty or no treaty. Bat the secret was too important a one to be ke; t always, and - * after the priest's death a rumor got abroad of gold in the Black Hills; then - " \ Caster was sent in there by the government to make an exploration, which resulted in the verification of the vague reports, and after that the United States army was not large enough to keep the people out. ^ Some of the most important placer j discoveries have been made by accident i by miners bound for some other new diggings. Alden gulch, afc Virginia City, Montana, prodnced nearly $10,000,000?more than any other gulch on the Pacific slop*.. Its rich treasures were discovered by a party of goldhunters, who camped upon it for dinner, on their way to the diggings that were already well known. One of them dug ^5-. up a panfal of earth and washed it out in the little stream, more orjii^Sr^ctillosity than in the expectation of finding anything. He was' surprised to find several large grains of gold in the bottom of his pan, and, of course, the party went no further. Mines accidentally tdi^wred^wiaj3a?ycaseB^-provEd'- ~ to be the richest. Sweet Home. ' : j When two jonng people love each other and marry, they restore the picture of the apostolic church. They are of one heart and one soui. . ^ Neither do they say that anything they possess is their own, but they have all things in common. Their mutual trust in each other, their entire confidence in each other, draws out all that is best in both. Love is an angel who rolls the stone away from the grave in which we bury our better nature, and if; forth. Love makes all things new; makes a new heaven and a new earth ; makes all cares light, all pain easy. It is the one enchantment of hnman life which realizes Fortunio's pnrse and Aladdin's palace, and turns the "Arabian Nights" into mere pr&se by comparison. Before real society can come, true homes must come. As^_ in a sheltered nook in the midst of a >*esa^great sea of ice which rolls down the i summit of Mont Blanc, is found a little green spot foil of tender flowers, so in the shelter of home, in the warm atmosphere of household love, springs np the pure affections of parent and cinid ; lather, motner, son, aanguwsr; I of brothers and sister, "Whatever ! makes this insecure, and divorce [ frequent, makes of marriage, not a union for life, but an experiment which may be tried as often as we choose, and abandoned when we like. And this cuts up by the roots all the dear affections of home; leaves children orphaned, destroys fatherly and motherly love, and is a virtual dissolution of society. I know the great difficulties of this question, and how much wisdom is required to solve them. But whatever weakens the permanence of marriage tends to dissolve societv; for permanent homes -i-t- at are so tne social state wuat cue umc cells are to the body. They are the commencements of organic life, the centres from which, of necessity, all organizations must proceed.?James Freeman Clarke. *, \ Farming' in Japan. f \ Milton S. Vail, a missionary in Japan,/ gives, in the Methodist, the following account of Japanese farming: The ' | farmers in Japan seem to operate on I 11 1. *11 _ J 2? SJjQcLIjL bi-ic* *ij3iuu ucivii^o iv the government, and all liave to pay a ground rent. Wheat, barley, rye and buckwheat are grown in rows, the weeds being kept out by hoeing. It seems | strange to see all their grain growing i in rows, but no doubt good crops are thus produced. Eice is the chief product of Japan. The earth nearly everywhere is black, and the black soil of the valleys, when well cultivated and made to hold the water from the neighboring hills, makes go' i. rice fields. The soil is broken by manual labor. Men go in the mud up to their knees ard with a long bladed hoe turn over the earth. Horses are used to harrow it down, and when ready the rice plants are set out by hand. The rice of Japan is very fine, and cookie them it is the principal article of food?a little rice, with pickles and tea, often constitutes a rnc-alT The people do not know how to make bread, but stem to be very fond of it when they can get it from foreigners. They have flour which they use in various ways in the simplest kind of cookery. T nnti/?W? frt cnming to this ulace (Hakone, a mountain town forty-five miles from Yokohama) that at some of the inns, instead of tea, they gave ns a drink made of pounded wheat. Potatoes, sweet potatoes, egg plants, corn, melons, cabbages, onions and turnips are also grown, and other vegetables, the names of which I do not know and _\never saw in America. I think all the vegetables grown in New York can bo cultivated here. Of fruits, we have peach e?, plums, oranges, strawberries, pears and persimmons, also figs. Postal Privileges. The United States, Postal Official Guide contains an opinion which will be oi interest to those who have been persecuted by postal cards. It is as follows : When any one is annoyed or expects to be annoyed by postal cards sent from any particular place, or from any known person, he may direct the postmaster at the point named to destroy all postal > cards addressed to him, or cards from any person named so addressed; and as far as the discharge of the duties of the ? office permit sufficient examination, the nrtctmactar chonlrt Mfflnlv With the TP ?- ? - c-. quest. The same request may be made of the receiving postmaster. The direction to the postma?t?r should be in writing, and should be filed for presentation. The privileges connected with the sending of fourth-class matter are defined as follows: 595. Section 231 ,P. L. & R., provides that the sender of any package of matter of the fourth-class may write or print upoD, or attach to any such articles, by tag or label, a mark, number, name, or letter for the purpose of identification. Therefore, when a package of fourthclass matter is submitted for mailing with a number writt^r> thereon, such as 1 on 101 io fciifir.lod In Tiass as L.^V UJ. X~on *v j fourth-clas* natter. So, also, if it has a Dame or a letter instead of a number. But should there be two numbers or two letters, or a number and a letter, or a name and a number or letter, it would not be entitled to pass as fonrinclass matter. In other words, the conjunction "or" employed in the statute, restricts that which may be wiitten or printed to one thing, be it mark, number, name, or letter. Governor Roberts, of Texas, exercises a personal supervision of the prisoners in the ?tate penitentiary. Most of them, he says, are young men from the Northwest, East and North, who, having strayed from homo restraints, have fallen into bad company and got ! fr/vnlil/i fja tVlPm that STOOd a 1; conduct will j-Lor ten their tennis, and, if, they behave themselves pardons them out. ? i An English pauper named Worth, : employed in tending pigs at the Lei1 cester Workhouse, has been left $19,000 ! by tlie will of a gentleman wifh whom ! 1 he was at one time in partnership,