Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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THE HERALD AVERTISING RAS. IS PUBLIS$ED $ rr io st - Double column advertisements ten per cert F V KRY THURSDAY MORNING, on above. Notices of meetings,obituaries and tributces At Newberry, 8. C. advfrse eame es p a s a - - Special Notices in Local column 15 cent BY THO. F. GRNRKER, Advertisements not marked with the num. ber of insertions wit! he kept in tifl forbid Editor and Proprietor. and charged accordinge. tisers, ith liberal de' e ionsou above ae Termes, $2.00 per .Innuma, Invariably in Advance. A Family Companion, Devoted to Literature, Miscellany, News, Agriculture, Markets &c * "l."Miaperts stopped at the expiration o tia. for wic it ispaid. -TUm-TEITT T U S Y,JIN 8,18.N .2.ERSCSH - The 4a ark denotes expiration of sub Vol. XVIII. NEW BERRY, S. C., THURSDAY, JU2 eription. OUlt OWN. I had known in the morning, How wearily all the day, The words unkind, Would trouble your mind, I said when you went away, I had been more careful, darling, Nor given you needless pain; But we vex "our own" With look and tone We may never take back again. For though in the quiet evening You may give us the kiss of peace, Yet It might be, That never for me, The pain of the beart should cease. How many go forth in the morning, That never a'me back at night! And hearts have broken For harsh words spoken, That sorrow can ne'er set right. We have careful thoughts for the stranger, And smiles for the sometimes guest; Bet oft for "our own" The bitter tone, Though we love "our own" the best. Ah! lips with curse impatient! Ah! brow with look of scorn! Twere a cruel fate Were the night too late To undo the work of the morn. 1OW IT f1S DONE, -0 Cbrh Torrington was perhaps the greatest coward in New York. Don't misunderstand us, gentle reader-physically speaking our young hero was as brave as Bay ard, as dauntless as Cceur de Lion. But it was where the fair sex was concerned that Mr. Tor rington became a 'poltroon. A gentle glance from a pair of blue eyes was enough to throw him,into a cold perspiration at any time. As one by one the companions of his boyhood and early youth vanished out of the path of bach erlorhood and entered into the promised land of matrimony, Church Torrington viewed them with a not unenvious mind. 'How the mischief did they muster up courage enough to.do it,?' was his internal reflection. And Harry Leslie, a wag of forty, who always had a knack of finding out everybody else's weak points, said : 'All of that set are married ex cept Church Torrington, and he'll be a bachelor all the days of his life because he hasn't got the courage to ask any girl to have him. I don't know, though, eit b or,' be added reflectively. 'Wait till leap year comes round again ; there may be a chance for him then.' Nevertheless, in the face of all these obstacles, Church Torring ton was in love. * Mias Violet Purple was as pret ty and blooming a little lassie as ever tripped down the sunny side of Broadway under a thread-lace parasol on a June afternoon. She was very plump and rather small, with soft blue gray eyes, eye brows like twin arches of jet, shining chestnut hair like white vvt, just flushed with the son, est pink on either dimpled cheek. And she had a way of carrying spoke with the slightest possible of lisps, always wore a rose in her ' hair, and was altogether precisely the sort of a girl a man's fancy was apt to conjure up when he ' thought of the possibility of a wife to cheer the gloom of his * solitary home. Violet Purple was born to be married-you couldn't think of her as an old1naid any more than you could think of strawberries without cream, or a satin slipper without a dainty foot to fit it ; and, whenever she thought of the probability of the catastrophe, a face like the mustache physiogno my of Mr. Church Torrington outlined itself through the misty vapors of ber day-dream. But Mr. Church was so dread fully bashful-he wouldn't pro pose-and poor little Violet was r arly at. her wits' end what to do in this dire perplexity. A girl of any delicacy can't very well ask a man to have her, and Violet had done everything else. She bad smiled sweetly upon him, given him rose buds out of her ball bouquets, sent him emibroid ered cigar cases, and returned a gentle pressure when he had ven tutred to squeeze her haud at part il.l ; and what, we ask the reader, could a girl do more ? And still, in spite of all this, Mr. Torrington persisted in keeping his love to himself. In vain Aunt Sarept a took herself up stairs, and left the drawing-room free to twilight and the lovers-in vain Violet put on her prettiest dresses and curled her hair, with a special eye to Mr. Torrington's taste. Old Mr. Purple-whose name was not a bad description of the general bue of his face-began to wonder 'what in the world young Torrington meant by coming here so much and keeping better men away 1' and hinted very broadly at the propriety of Violet's being more gracious to a certain banker, a friend of his, who was supposed to be especially attracted by the blue-gray eyes and the jet arched brows. And little Violet took to crying at night on her lace-edged pillows, and Aunt Sarepta, a tall, spare, maiden lady, who had only re ently come up from the country to take charge of her brother's household, scarcely knew what to do. 'Violet,' quoth the aunt, 'what ails you ?' 'I don't know, aunt.' 'How long has Mr. Torrjngton oeen visiting here ?' 'I don't know ; about three years.' 'Does he care for you, Violet?' 'I don't. know, aunt,' she re plied, blushing and rosy. 'Do you care for him?' 'I don't know, aunt,' she said, blushing still more deeply. 'Then why on earth don't he propose, and have done with it.' 'I don't know, aunt !' This time in a sort of despairing ac cent. Miss Sarepta Purple set horself to untangle this Gordian knot of circumstances as she would a -suarl' in her skeins of mixed wools; and when Miss Sarepta set herself about a thing, she was generally in the habit of accom plishing it. 'I'll go and see him myself,' was the result of a long day of medi tation on Miss Sarepta's part; 'and I won't let Violet know about it.' - Mr. Church Torrington sat in his leather covered easy chair, looking out a difficult case in Es toppels when his clerk announced 'a lady;' and, turning abruptly around, he encountered the gaze of Miss Sarepta Purple's spec tacled orbs. He colored scarlet as he drag. ged forth a chair, and stammered out some incoherent sentence or other-for was not she Violet's aunt ?-the aunt of the fair dam sel whom he worshipped afar off and in silence I 'Thank you,' said Miss Purple, depositing herself on the chair as one might set down a heavy trnk-'I've come on business.' 'Indeed l' 'Because,' said Miss Purple, edging her chair a little nearer that of the young lawyer, 'I think it's time this business was set ted.' 'What business ?' 'What business ?' echoed Mrs. Purple, with a beligerent toss of her bead; 'as if you do not know well enough what 1 am talking about-why getting married, to be sure !' Mr. Torrington grew a shade or two paler. Was it possitble that this ancient maiden still contem plated the probability of matri mony ? Had she then selected him for her~victim ? He looked at the back window-it opr-ned on a blind alley, which led nowhere. He glanced at the door ; but Miss Purple's gaunt form effectually debarred that means of egress. No -there was nothing but to sit still and face the worst that fate had in store for him. 'You see,' went on Miss Sarepta, 'I am not blind if I am getting in. to years, and I can see as well as anybody what you moan by com ing so often to our house. But still I think you ought to have :ken out like a man. P'm willing, and- 1 don't suppose my brothei will object. as you seem to bi able to keep a w'fe !' 'You-you are very kind ! stammered Mr. Torrington. 'Is it to be yes or no-about thi marriage, I mean ?' 'l shall be most happy, I an sure !' fluttered our miserabl< hero. 'Spoken like a man I It's what. knew you meant all the time, cried Aunt Serepta, rising to he feet, and actually depositing ai oscular demonstration, meant fo: a kiss, on Church's- forehead. '] knew I should like you !' Church stared. This was no exactly etiquette ; but the wholi matter was really so strange an< unprecedented that he hardlj knew what-to think. 'And when will you come roun< to brother Jacob's and t'll th folks all about it-for I suppos you'd like to tell them yourself This evening?' 'Y-yes, if you say so!' 'It's as good a time as any, suppose. Of coarse you won' mention that I said anything t< you about it ? I'd rather it shoulc seem unstudied.' 'Natirally enough I' though poor Church. But he promised, with a fain smile and parted from Miss Pur ple, almost shrinking from th< vigorous grasp of the hand whicl she unhesitatingly bestowed upoi him. No sooner was Church Torring ton alone than the full horror o his position rushed upon him What had be done? To wha had be committed himself ? It serves me right,' he mut tered grinding his teeth, 'when could have u on the love of tb sweetest little fairy the sun evei shone on. It was simply idiotii of me to allow a middle-aged ter magant to take possession of me as though I were a cooking-stovo or a second.hand clock ! She wil marry me, and I shall be a cap tive for life, simply because I wai too- much of a noodle to save my self. Oh, dear, dear ! this is 1 terrible scrape for a poor felloa to get into! But there is n< help for it now. If I were t< back out, she'd sue me for i breach of promise. If I were t< go to Australia, she would follow me there as sure as fate ! I'm lost man !' And Church Torrington pre ceeded straight to the mansioi where dwelt ther inexorable Sarep ta. And, behold 1 as he knocked a the door, Miss Purple hersel opened the door, and mysterious ly beckoned him in. 'I saw you coming,' she said, ir a low, eager tone. 'I've been of the look-out. Excuse me, m' dear, but I really feel as if I mus kiss you once more. We're goinj to be relations, you know.' 'Relations I should think so groaned Church Torrington, tak ing the kiss as a child would quinine powder. Miss Sarepta patted him on th shoulder. 'Then go in,' she said, nodding mysteriously toward the door be yond. 'Go in-where ?' stammered on bewildered hero. 'Why, to Violet, to be sure I' 'To Violet!I Was it Violet tha you meant ?' 'To"be sure it was ! Who di you suppose I meant-me ?' This last suggestion, hazarde as the wildest improbability b Miss Sarepta, called the guilt color up into Church's- cheek. 'Miss Purple, pardon me,' h said ; *but I've been a stupi blockhead. Don't be angry, as yo say we're going to be relations.' And be took the spinster in hi arms anid bestowed upon her kiss whieb made its predecessc appear but the shadow and gho of kisses-a kiss which sounde as ough Mr. Church Torring ton -meant it. 'Do behave yourself!' cried Mi Sarepta. 'Yes, I'm going to,' said Churci and be walked straight into th~ drawing-room, where little Viol< was dreaming over an unread boo of poems. She started as he ei 'Mr. Torrington, is it you ?' j tar: 'Yes, it is I,' said Church, in- swc spired with new courage. 'Vio- waf let, darling, I love you-will you his consent to be my wife?' one 'Are you in earnest, Church ?' son 'In earnest? It's what I've min been waiting to say to you for the woi last six months, but I have not gre, dated to venture. Come, you will the [ not send me away without an an- and swer. Say yes, darling.' T 'Yes,' Violet answered, so faint- as ly that only true lover's ears It could have discerned the faltering ver, monosyllable. And Cburch Tor- pert rington felt as if he were the tien luckiest fellow in all the great posi metropolie that night. ters When Aunt Serepta came in, has looking very unconscious, to light pan the gas, Church insisted upon an. cess 1 other kiss, greatly to that lady's the discomposure. ' of a 'For you know very well, Aunt Sarepta,' he said, 'you set me the " example.' is a1 And Aunt Sarepta did not look list very angry,with him. to So they were married with all evei due flourish of trumpets, and Vio witl I let does not know to this day how shoi instrumental the old maiden aunt clut was in securing her happiness. tion posi to a 0240%!5* posi -- opei THE TARANTULA. absi low The Texas tarantula when it is to c full grown, is boss among spiders gan f -what Jesse James is among just robbers, or Jay Gould among den railroad maggates. He has hair our all over his legs, and wears his thei eyes on the top of his head to see mar that nobody takes advantage of met him. We are not describing Jay and Gould, but the tarantula. He is due big enough, and hungry enough mig to gobble up all the rest, which mal remark however, applies as well met to Jay as to the tarantula. The is t tarantula is a desperado among the, insects. In one respect, neverthe- by less, he differs very' much from alti the Texas desperado. The latter you is more dangerous when in liquor dies than at any other time, while the a h tarantula is the most harmless one on on the road, as long as he is under her the influence of alcohol, and the pas, bottle is corked up tightly. The waE tarantula makes himself respected no, with a pair of hooked fangs, leaf which at the same time are the a n principal cause of his unpop..'.ari- tee, ty. As long as this amiable in- moi sect is not interfered with, he at. mus tends strictly to his own business, her but if anybody punches him in pie, the small of the back with an um- W brella, or spits tobacco juice on girn him, he becomes irritable and Wh peevish. Un der such provocation of d he will jump up and down, sling his arms and legs about, gnash his Steeth, and go on for all the world tha like a stump speaker whose ye-.oc racity has beeo questioned by a sup rusn in the crowd. On such.oc- W ca.sions he will jump on any- ace Sbody, regardless of his size or sc social status.- sex Like all disagreeable people, the the tarantula has his personal en- gra emies. The enemy he likes less wit than all the rest, is a large black thiu wasp, whose only mission in life fact rseems to take the conceit out of a the tarantula. He accomplishes bes this remarkable feat by vaccinating spj, the tarantula- on the back with a the sting. When the tarantula goes dec out to bull-doze inoffensive tumn- Thi ble-bugs and grass-hoppers, he has the to look out for the wasp. A fight be- and tween the wasp and the tarantula nes is almost as interesting as aCon- fin gressional debate on sectional of, e issues, and it always ends with thc d the death of the spider. As soon of as the tarantula hears the buzz of arn the wasp, he looks for a hole to kn< crawl into, and if there is none wh a handy, it is 'good-bye John' with act r Mr. Spider. The wasp circles around the excited spider, very ' d much as a hawk does over a brarn- wr< yard. Suddenly he dives down, tin vaccinates the tarantula, and flies ma s up again. It does not seem as if aff< he had touched the spider, but he go has, and it has taken too, for in a - few seconds, the desperado of the J Sprairies begins to walk zig-zag, ter k very much like a fashionable fir4 . young man returning from an wr oyser annnppr in a short time the tlU ,ntula feels tired, and finall ions away, whereupon th p alights, takes a good look a victim, and seizing him b; of his legs, drags him off t ie secluded spot where he at isters on his estate. Th ild-be desperado can learn .t deal if he will ponder ove relations between the was the tarantula. be bite of the tarantula is no bail as has been represented rarely causes death, but it i 7 painful, causing the bittei ion to dance about as imps tly as a man who goes to th office, finds his box full of let and then discovers that h, left the key in his othe ts. The tarantula can be sac fully tamed by patting him o1 small of the back with the fla n ax.-Texas Siftings. WILD OAT."-A young mai lowed by the strictest moral an ibtermediate time in whicl iow his wild oats; but wh admitted the same necessit' a girls ? We say that mai ild have his amusements-hi s, cigars, horse races, flirts s and liquorings ; but sup ng our women and girls com, s reeking with tobacco? Sui ng they addicted themselve mly to taking nips of grog an nthe when their spirits wer ? Supposing they sat dow uiet rubbers of whist or ecartc bling away their householh to while off dull hours ? W and so much of excellence c women that the worst c n are better than the averag . I have known some wc who were. social outeast: who, in point of heart, con t and general moral rectitndf ht have furnished stuff for th ing of very upright gentle indeed. They have fallen, i rue ; but what a fearful penalt; F have paid for that fall, whili comparison, the kindred per es of men are so slight. If ng man gets mixed up in som ;raceful entanglement, break ?art and throws a young gi ,he streets after having ruine life, people say of him, con ionately, by and by : "H so young when he did it, an he has turned over a nei ;" but if an inexperienced gir ere child of sixteen or sevei 2 comes to harm through ent's weakness. born of to ah love and over-confidencei betrayer, who ever thinks< ding her youth as an excuse o over urges seriously that has turned over a new leaf o urges upon her any necessit loing so ? 'EMALE SocIETY.-What is t makes all those men who a ate habitually with wome erior to others who do not at makes that woman who ustomed to, and at ease in, ti ety of men, superior to hi in general ? Solely becauw y are in the habit of fre ceful continued conversatic h the other sex. Womeni Sway lose their frivolty, the ilties awaken, their delicaci' t peculiarities unfold all the uty and captivation in ti -it of intellectual rivalry. An men lose their pedantic, rud iamatory or sullen mantie ir asperities are rubbed oi ir better materials polishe ibrightened, and their ric: s like gold, is wrought i ir workmanship by the fingel women than it ever could be t se of men. The iron and ste their character are like ti or of giants by studs at >ts of gold and precious stone en they are not wanted al warfare. w nan who revenges evei ng that is done him has e te for anything else. If y< ke your life a success, you ca >rd to let the dogs bark as y< by. ts frost raised to its utmosti sity. produces the sensation , so any good quality, ove ought and pushed to excel ne into its own contrary. y WANTS TO BE A BIRD. e - ,t A Poetess Who Does Not Take in the Enti Situation. D An Iowa girl.poet sends as poem, the first line of which is i follows: a "I would I were abird." r That settles her hash. No bir( need apply. What in the wic world adecent-looking bealthy gi wants to be a bird for is moi than we can imagine. Grantin that an Iowa girl-poet is as ban( some as a statue, how like thui der she would look as a bird, si ting on a rail fence on one lel scratching her feathers with ,n r claw, or hopping down under gooseberry bush scratching for ai 2 gleworms with her bare toenail If the girl poet bird should fin an angleworm she %ould ru away and scream. But maybe is not that kind of a bird sb - wants to be. There is no kind < a bird that can have so much fa as a girl. As a girl she can go I all the places of amusement, danc and flirt and get mashed, but as 3 bird, with nothing on but feather she would catch cold. Imagine girl.poet flying around in ti trees, bopping from limb. St would have the whole town watcl ing. her, and making remark Think how a girl-poet would fe e if she was a bird, and should I moulting. She would watch ever feather that dropped off, and woi de? how long the feathers wei e going to hold out. And then, f the girl-poet was a bird she woul f have to set, if she was that kir e of a poet, or a bird and the settir would commence just when thei was the most going on in societ: and she would have to stay rigi by regardless, and after the po e bird got off the nest she woul look sick, and it would take oi t weeks to recruit up so as to mal a decent appearance in bird s ciety. If. a girl-poet desires to I a bird in order to get out of an a of the duties of life so as to have e high old time chirruping aroat s stealing cherries, and singing ti .1 livelong da;, she makes a mi d take. Birds may seem to be fri from care, and to have a so e thing, but they have a heap d trouble. There is the same jes v ousy and backbiting among bir that there is among human b ~ings, and a good looking, we a dressed bird, who has any sty Sabout her, and is a trifle indepe ndent and jolly, will find that si Swill get her feathers rumpled, ar ? and be called names, and she w a wish some boy with a bea ? snapper would fire a load of bea Sright through her. Our Iov poet does not say what kind of bird she would like to be, but i tcan't think of any kind of a bi .that would be as good as a gi SOf course she wGuldn't want to ?a canary bird or a mocking bird sa cage, and have to sing for her e seed and mocking bird food, a rlook out for cats. She would pi e bably want to be a wild, out doi e, go-as-you please sort of bi~ Well, there is none of that kia nthat are perfectly safe, and w ir always have a good time. If o is girl-poet bird was a duck or a w ir goose, she would be flying ale lsome day when there would be d puff of smoke under her, and s e,would feel as though she hac r. hot box, and would go off and on a muskrat house all .nigl d picking No. 5 shot out of b~ dark me at, or the second joint, elsewhere, as the case might I s There wouldn't be much fun ythat. If she was a pigeon s would be caught in a trap and ha eher neck wrung. And whate~ d kind of bird our poet might sshe would have to scratch gra for a living and eat worms. T outlook would not be first-cla The only bird she could be, al ,be a success, would be a hen, a o have a rooster scratch for hE >u and then there would be the dra a back of having to share t >n worms her own darling roes might find with a whole flock hens. If our Iowa girl-poet 1 n- got a fair job in her business, a of can have an extra dress to wi r- to parties, and catch on to a i s, low once in a while, and does z -want the earth. she should ce: repining, let this bird scheme go, and be contented as a girl. A re girl can discount all the birds in the woods, and be in no danger of being shot by boys with a slings.-Burlington Hawkeye. GETTING USED TO IT BY DEGREES. s Somewhere about here, writes a e Southern correspandent, lives a small farmer of such social habits that his e coming home intoxicated was once no g unusual thing. His wife urged him in vain to sign the pledge. 'Why, you see,' he would say, 'I'll sign it after a while, but I don't like to break off all at once-it ain't e wholesome. The best way is to get a used to a thing by degrees, you know.' 'Very well, old man,' his helpmate would rejoin ; 'see now if you don't d fall into a hole ' one of these days, n where you can't take care of yourself, and nobody near to help you out.' e Sure enough, as if to verify the prophecy, as he returned home drunk one day, -he - fell into a shallow well, o and, after a deal of useless scrambling, 'e he shouted for the 'light of his eyes' a to come and help him out. 'Didn't I tell you so?' said she, a good soul, showing her cap frill over Le the edge of the parapet ; 'you've got e into a hole at last, and it's only lucky 2 I'm in hearing, or you might have . drowned. Well,' she continued, after el a pause, letting down the bucket, 1e 'take hold.' y And he came up, higher at each turn of the windlass, until the old lady's grasp slipped from the handle, if down he went to the bottom again. d This occurring more than once, made d the temporary occupant of the well g suspicious. e 'Look here,' he screamed, in a ' fury, at the last splash, 'you're doing it that on purpose-I know you are ! t 'Well, now, I am,' responded his d old woman, tranquilly, while winding x him up once more. 'Do you not re :e member telling we that it's best to get 0- used to a thing by degrees? I'm >e afraid if I bring you right up of a Y sudden, you wouldn't find it whole a some.' d The old fellow could not help 1e chuckling at the application of his own principle, and protested that he je would sign the pledge on the instant, f if she would lift him fairly out. This she did, and packed him off to sign the pledge, wet as he was. is e. SENATOR DAVIS oF WEST VIr 1. GINIA.-A curiosity among senators le is Henry G. Davis, now nearly sixty n years of age. While he was a boy ie the Baltimore and Ohio railroad id came up the valley of the Patapsco ii past his bithplace, and when he was n. discharged from his father's farm he as went to that railroad and asked for ra work. They made him a brakeman a for a while, then he developed into re conductor, and stayed with the road ed nearly till the time of the John Brown r. raid. Affable, particular, very fond be of money, yet working hard to get it, in he started, at thirty-five years of age, pa litttle money lending business at d Piedmont, at the foot of the Alle o- ghany mountains, a wild, mining >town and varied the business by get -d ting out some coal. A bank is the 2d result of that work, of which he is bo president, and it is a.National bank, ur too- Mr. Davis probably had a hand d in forming the State of West Vir Sginia, in which his railroad had a a special interest. Virginia had ob be structed the Baltimore and Ohio rail a road in her palmy days, and when she sit. went out of the Union, and a State it, seceded from her, it was decided that er this State should come right up to the or Baltimore and Ohio crossing-place, >e. so that to-day there is not one.foot of in this railroad on old Virginia. Mr. be Davis also moved into the new State, ve and began to-get out lumber and buy er new coal mines not much known to >e, other people, taking into his ventures el some of the Garrett family. He has be accumulated about $1,000,000 in 3s. money and property, and is now con id sidered on the Democratic side one of ud the most useful men to know. Mr. ir, S. B. Elkins, formerly an active del w. egate in Congress from New Mexic, he who has married one of Senator Davis' daughters, is a co-operator in .er his enterprises, and together they are of building a railroad from Piedmont to as a new coal field on the Alleghany nd mountains, and expect ultimately to acarry it across the Ohio river or to rsome connecting point with the el- Chesapeake and Ohio or Richmond Cot and Alleghany railroad.- Washing ts ton Letter. THE CZAR'S CORONATION. How He will Reach Haeow, and the Dau gere that will Beet Him. Moscow Letter. The Czar is the sole legislator, the sole supreme judge and the unlimited administrator of the sixth part of our globe, populated. by 100,000,000 of his sabjects. Indeed, he is the 'earthly god' of the Russians. And yet that god is now trembling like an aspen leaf at the very idea of going to Moscow for his crown. And there is no wonder that he trembles. While. his special couriers are galloping with sealed orders into his numerous do mains where as yet there are no rail. roads, no telegraphs and no regular post communications, and while the Muscovites are in full turmoil of prep aration for his coronation, at the same 4 time his deadly foes are reported to be also busy preparing for the Czar some fireworks of their own make. But where to look for these fireworks, underground.-on the surface or in the air, nobody knows, and everybody is full of dark apprehensions. The question where the Nihilists can. best deal their blow to the Czar is dis cussed here in whispers. In the first place the Czar has to travel from-St. Petersburg to Moscow 400 miles ly railroad, and who knows. at bow many points that railroad is undermined-? Who knows how many of the switch men of that road are Nihilists? In the next place, after reaching Moscow the Czar will- stop, according io-am ancient custom, in the Petrovaky Park, about two miles from the Kreml, where he will remain until the eve of th'e coronation, and-then will go to the Kreml. Now, that short journey, which will be rather a pompous procession, amid massesof people, will, of course, be extremely dangerous. Then in the Kreml the Czar has to go on foot from his palace . to the Uspanaky Cathedral and back, distance of about fifty yards, amid , thousands of representatives of the' people, who will occupy the space be tween the palace and the cathedral. Who knows whether at that moment, when the Czar in full glory appears before the representatives of the peo ple, a Nihilist bomb may nzot be thrown down, from the roof of the cathedral ? Nobody denies here that there is great danger for the Czar and for those who on the coronation day shall surround him, and on that account the good people of Moscow have never before been. so much ex cited on the eve of a coronation as they are now, while awaiting the coronation of Alexander III. There is no Christian duty that is not to be seasoned and set off with cheerishness, which, in a thousand outward and intermitting crosses, may yet be done well, in the vale of tears. What we employ in charitableness during our lives is given away frota ourselves. What we bequeath at our death is given from others only, as our nearest relations. He who increases worldly goods in creases care; he who increases ser vants increases theft; but he who in- ~ creases in knowledge of the Sacred Law increases life. If a man makes money at the ex pense of his virtue, he dishonors his soul. He sells honor for gold. 'All ~the gold on earth is of no value com pared with virtue. What a wonderful incongruity it is for a man to see the doubtfulness in "h which things are involved, and-yet be impatient out of action, or vehe ment in it. Keep up the habit of being re spected, and do not attempt to be more amusing and agreeable than is consistent with the preservation of respect. What a rich man uses and gives, . constitutes his real wealth. That> which thou boardest, whose is it ? Other covetous men will sport with it. The minister is to be a live man, and a real man, a true man, a simple ' man, great in his word, great in his simplicity, great in his gentleness. The keenest abuse of our enemies will not hurt us so much in.the esti mation of the discerning as the:in jiiousnprise of our frends.