?
L. M. JONES, & Co. Publishers. "at tie public good we.aim.*1 . M. M. LEW, Esitor.
vol.. I. CAMBO, SOUTH CAllOLIAA, SATURDAY MAY 37, 1837. NO. 4.
I , .
??????? *
Tiin.irs
OF THE
CJ0MMSB.3IA.Xi 307BI3BS
Published weekly every Saturdjiy morning
at 93 per annum it paid in advance, or
$1 if not puid until the expiration of the
year.
Advertisements inserted at 91 per square
lor the first insertion, and 30 cts. for every
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Persons subscribing out of tho State, are
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Communications must be post paid., f/ll
the empress op france.
"She. in the wtrk>ng of whose destiny,
The man of blood and victory attained
His more than kingly height."
i'lik1 cnvrti-rnnii
? ??<lj vuii \f uunwi\? j
When a few centuries shall have thrown
their shadows upon the strange fortunes of
Napoleon; and given to every thing about
hnn tin* tinge of romance, the story of his
first wife will seem to the student rather a
fable than a fact; he will look upon her as
we look upon Mary of Scotland, but with a
deeper interest, for she, far more truly than
her lord, was from first to last 'the child of
destiny.'
Told, while yet unmarried, that she would
be a wife, a widow, and a queen of France
?the entire fulfilment of the first part of
the prophesy, gave her courage to believe in
the last part also when under sentence of
death. When her bed was taken from under
her because she was to die in the morning,
she told her weeping friends that it was not
so; that she should sit upon that throne en
the ruins of which Robespierre then stood
triumphant; and when asked, in inockerv,
to choose her maids of honor, since she was
to bo queen, she did choose them, and they
were her maids of honor when half of Europe
looked up to her. On that night,
which was to have been her last on earth,
Robespierre fell. Had he fallen a few days
earlier, her first husband would have lived;
had his fall been but one day later, Joseph
ine would have been among the ten thousand
victims whose names wo have never
heard. But he fell on that night, and her
destiny was accomplished
SSlic married Napoleon, and, through her,
her husband was appointed to the army of
Italy. Step by step they rose, till at last the
crown rested upon her head; the second
part of tho prophesy was proved true, and
she began to look forward to that loss of
power and rank, which had ai-o been foretold,
.md which was to close tho strange
drama of her life.
And he (hat had wedded tho child of destiny
grew every day more strong and more
grasping. In vain did Josephine attempt to
rule his ambition, and chasten his aim>; he
was an ctnperor; he wished to found an empire.
and by slow degrees he made himselfi
familiar with the thoughts of putting Iter
away.
\Vhcn the campaign of IR09 was at an
end, hardened and narrowed, the general
came back to his wife; his former kindness
was gone, his playfulness was checked; he
consulted her hut seldom, and seldom stole
up 01 her private hours with that familiar love
that I ltd so often made her heart leap ?
JShc saw that her hour drew nigh.
It was the evening of tho iiOth of November,
the court was at Paris in honor of
the King of Saxony. Josephine sal at her
window, looking down upon the river, and
muring on the dark fate before her, when
she heard Napoleon's step at the door. She
sprang to open it, using her usual exclamation,
'.won ami!' lie 'embraced her affectionately,
that for an instant her fears and
woes seemed vain. She led him to a chair
placed herself at his feet, and looking up into
his face, smiled through her tears.
4 Y<>u arc unhappy, Josephine,' said the
Emperor.
Not with you, sire.'
'Bah.'said lie quickly'why call me sire?
these shows of state steal all true joy from us.'
'Then why seek them?' answered Josephine.
The Emperor made no reply. 'You are
now the first of men,' she continued, 'why
not quit war, turn ambition out of your
councils, bend your thoughts on the good of
France, and live at home among those who
love you?"
'Josephine," said he, turniug his face
from her, 'it is not I, it is France demands |
the sacrifice.' ji
'Are you sure of that, my lord?' said the j
wife; 'have you probed your heart to the',
bottom: is it not ambition that prompts you ,
to seek reasons for repudiating me? for think j i
not, Napoleon, I misunderstood yon, are yon |
sure it is love of France?' ,
Every word she spoke touched him to the |
quick; and rising hastily, lie replied, 'Madam,1.
I have my reasons; good evening." ,
'Stay, sire,' said she, taking hold of his ;
arm, 'we must not part in anger. I sub- I
nut. Since you wish it, I submit cheerful- i
ly. It is not in my nature to oppose your i
will; I love you too deeply. Nor shall I I
cease to love you, Napoleon, because I am I
to leave your thrmio and your side. If you i
still go on victorious, 1 shall rejoice with
you; iT reverse comes, I will lay down my
life to comfort you. I will pray for you
morning and night, and in the bono that
sometimes you villi think of iwv' 4 1
Hardened as lie was, Napoleon had loved
his wife deeply and long, ller submission
to lus stern resolve; I.or calm but morula! I
dignity; her tried, unshaken love, moved i
even him; and for a inoinont uHectioti sirug
gled with ambition. 11c turned, embrace <
her again; (>ut in that moment her face and <
form had changed, ller eye and her whole I j
person seemed inspired! lie felt himself 1
in the presence of a superior being. She i
led him to the window, and threw it open '1
A thin mist rested upon the Seine and over i
the gardens of the palace: all around was t
silent, among the stars then before them, I
one was far brighter than the rest. She j
ixunled In ii
I
'rSire, she said, *that star is tninc?to that, ?
and not to yours, was promised empire, ?
through me, and through my destinies, you i
have risen; part troin me and you fall. The s
spirit of her that foresaw me rise to royalty,
even now communes with my spirit, and ?'
tells nte that your fate lianas ou mine. Be- t
lieve me or not, if we henceiorth walls its- a
sunder you will leave no empire behind you, r
and will die yourself in shame, anJ sorrow, \
and with a broken spirit.'
He turned away sick at heart, and over- -s
awed by the words of one, whose destiny had I
been so strangely accomplished. Ten days <
were passed aw-iv in resolves and counter- v
resolves?and then the link that bound him ?
to fortune, was broken. Josephine was di- i
vorced; and, as lie said himself at St. lie- i
lena, from* thai hour Ins fall began. r
Josephine was divorced ? hut her love did 11
not cease; in her retirement she joyed in all
his successes, and prayed that he might he I*
savad from the fruits of lus foul ambition? o
N\ hen his son was born, she only regretted '
that she was not near him in his happiness; t
and when lie went a prisoner to Kiln, she a
hogged that she might share Ins prison, and <
relieve his woes. Kvory article that he had '
used at her residence, remained as he Infi ie i
_ y *- * !
she would not let a chair he removed. The c
book, iti which he had been last reading
was tlicrc with the page doubled down, and I
the pen that lie had last used was bvit,j;|
with tlio ink dried on it" point. When her j
death drew nigh, she wished to sell all h?*r , T
jewels, to send the fallen Hnperor money; i
and her will was submitted to his correction, a
She died before his return from I'lba; but ?
her lust thought were of linn and France, i?
and her last words expressed the hope and '
belief 'mat she had never caused a single *
tear to flow ' Mie was buirted in the vtl-jl
lage church of Ruel. and lier body was lol- a
lowed to the grave, not alone hy princes and a
generals, but bv t.vo thousand poor, whose j a
hearts had been made glad hy her bounty. ?
Her marble monument bears only this a
inscription: a
''eit.tne and hmrtf.n'se to josephine." >
What a fund for future writers in her s
character and late: and what a lesson to all x
of us, whether in prosperity or adversity.
rnt: i.a?t m ix. I
u Procrastinati >n is the thief of time." \
It was a beauiilul inorni gin the month !|
of May, lvdo, I was sitting by the side of 1
Helen Harris, t' e o dy girl lhat I over i
loved, and I believe, the only girl that s
ever loved me ? any how, she was the only I
one that ever told me so. We were sit- I
ting in the pia/./.a of her father's house, 11
about a quarter of a mile from the landing*
.1 : *: _ - r ~.. . - \ i1 - ?
I>i ir<!. waning ujr luu ik ii < i ilie biramno.it
to warn mo of iho m on. nt that was t<>!
part "my love ami mo." It came to pass
in the course of my history, that in order >i
to accumulate a little of this world's 'jiear,"!
that I might he bi tter prepared to eurouii-J
tor the demands of matrimony, i was des-h
titled to cross the blue ('hesapenk, and|j
sc< k in the metropolitan rity the uherr- 1
withal so much desired. How main s.vuins'i
have been compelled, like me, to leave tlieji
home and the girl they love, to wander in t
search of gold! Am! ? good gracious!?
how many have been disnppoiuted! M >slli
of them, perhaps, for though they have J]
obtained the gold, like me, may be, they i
did not get as much as they wanted, i
But to the piazza. i
Well, we were sitting in the pizza, I
and, as may be supposed, were talking of ;
our love and separation, and all the \
%v?
u i tii'inus ui uui n1114??111?11 tT u w?:r?; |
waiting for the most unwelcome sound U
that ever saluted our ears, namely, the |?.
steamboat bell. It is known to ail who!
know any thing about steamboats, that i
their hells give two warnings to those who v
have engaged for a voyage?the second is c
the signal for starting. Yon may n ly on j
it, we talked fast, and abbreviated our \
words into such ragged sentences th t t
nobody but ourselves could understand t
them. The first bell rang ! the sound |
rolled over Mr. Harris' corn-field and
watermelIon-patch, to the piazza, like the
knell of hope, and I sprang upon my IV ot '
iiihI trembled like an aspen. ''Oh (ieorge,
wait till the last bell rings," said Helen,
?s the ''big tears came over lier eyes of t
blue." 41 Do no such thing," answered s
die hoarse voice of Mr. Harris, as lie t
rose like a spectre from the cellar where t
be had been packing cider. ''Do no such s
thing," be repeated, and " George," he it
ontintied, *' carry this ad vie with you to t
. I. .. ^ i . . J
iii" fiiiivi-, ann 11 may be? of service to you, s
'never wait for the last bell!'" 1 was s
.?fl* like a chased deer?the last hell runjr s
as I approached the steamboat, and 1 had s
scarcely time to get aboard before jjhe was c
pushed from the wharf. On my passage
I had time for reflection, and occasioned
by the separation from ii< idol, ! pnmposcd
myself to cool reasoning, and the conclusion
of the whole matter was, ra.'it it was,
ila i^rrmis to wait for the last hell. JVIy
career in tin search of pelf has in a tie- |
i?ree; been succcsstul; but 1 ver'.lv believe,
litttl not the old farmer told me, "never to
wait for the last hell," that I should now
iave been us poor as I was thetfnorning
he farewell shivered from my lips upon
he heart of my lovely Helen.
1 come to the big city, took lodgings at
t hotel, and any person who has lived at a
lotcd a single d ?y can rehearse tit" dan;ers
of wailing for the last hell. I did it
Mice ? it was the day 1 entered?a ;cl 1 lost
nv dinner. I have always been ready
inoe then, and the lit si stroke has found
tie at the table. I mingled with mankind,
ind I saw thousands who were Waiting 'or
he last bell. In business they were slow,
old bargains slipped l>v them. In the paynent
of their liabilities they were backyard,
and their credit sutler* d.
1' i-r six months I was clerk ; it was a
hort appreniiceshij>, hut my never wailing
or the last bell?tlint is to say my ?1 oii:-4
very 11?i:?I hr?<1 to do in the right lime?
von a place for me in the uffections of my
mployer, which 1 accepted; and in every
nstance when the bell rung, it found me
cady. 1 nave been in business and mari?
d nine yours; and I h i<'e yet to be caught
lapping when the bell rings.
Now, I would just beg leave to say a
i'w words to voting men about this thing
f waiting for the last bell. When I arived
at Bd'itn ?re, I waited on soine genlemen
to'whom I had introductory letters,
nd they recommended me for a situation.
)ne wis soon olfered which I was told hail
icon refused hv four young men, to whom
I had hern olfered before I came to the
ity. The salary -was low, but, said I,
' tliev are waiting for tbe last bell," and
was not slow in accepting it; and glad I
in of it, for it^ was the making of inc.
{Shortly after, I became a partner in my
resent business. Our custom having
ncreased considerably, we advertised (or
II additional clerk ; the salary at the beginning
was the same that 1 bad received;
nany called who were out of employ mcnt,
nit they seemed as i( they bad rather
vait for another bell, and refused. I know
hem all, and the young gentleman who
iccepled, is worth four times as much as
niv one of them. Haste for the first hell,
ccept the first offer, and keep it 1111 li11 you
;el a better. Remember the common
dagc, "half a loaf is better than 11011c;"
.ml be assured that, if you .are worthy, be
our first oiler what it may, if it be re( enable,
it will lead you upward?upvard.
I once knew a young man of first rate
usiuess abilities, but be formed the dis?ustin?r
habit of stopping at the tavern
vhenever he cmid make the ? pportunitv ;
lore ne nlwavs wailed lor the lasi bell, reuetant
to leave while be could spare a
noiuent. II e is now a habitual drunkard,
ind, if he is not carefu', the last hall of
ife will find him in a bad condition; it will
>c hard f >r him to bid a long farewell to
lis last glass.
I.ife ?s short ; hours fiy with the wind's
rapidity; and he \t ho babit unl'.y puts lV
until the last hell, the affair** which claim
his immediate attention, w II come out.
according to Farmer llairis's prediction,
"at the little end of the horn."
Shakspeare says, "there is a tide in the
affairs of men, which, if taken at the flood,
leads on to Cot tune." My > mug f riend, he
ivho waits for the la*-t bell can never take
lliis tide at the flood; the man only who is
watching to embrace the In t opportunity
c.in have tlie least hope of success.
Young Indies; I have a word for you. In
lie street I live in. thci" is a ladv who
lias been seven years in choosing her partner
fr life. She is handsome, ami pretty
ivell off. and slie hns liad sever ! respectable
offers, bul she was wailing tor the last
noil; and she is lil;< ly to remain to the last
i hi lie, for she is turned of thirty, and she
ivill now agree to the first proposal that is
nade her; hut perhaps it is too late, and
die must ah.de her single blessedness for;V(
r.
Now, I beseech you, my dear voting
'needs, all of \ <>u who may read this linle
dv(.tei:, put not <>ff tor to-morrow what yon!
:;>n do to day; this is the true meaning of the '
njunetion which has been of so much seruic
to me. Whenever you feel a disposition
o postpone any thing, no matter howrifling,
remember the words of Farmer
larris. "Never wait tor the last bell."
from lite Philailrlphiti (oiinncrcinl Jfrriilrf,
'TUB TIMt>," Oil .MON SII.UU TOXSON COME
A CAIN.
''The times!" says the shipper?"the
iines !!" savs the merchant?" the times!!!"
ays the mechanic?"the times!!!!" says
h" hank director?"the times!!!!!" says
lie broker?"the times the times!!!!!!''
ays every one?"the times?the tiin? s?the
im s !!!!!!!" cclu es the press from Main
o fMew Orleans. What is to bo done?
;tys tho merchant?"what is to be done ?"
;iys ihc broker?"what is to be done?"
ays the mechanic?"what is to be done?"
ays every one?" what is to be done ?"
ichocs the press. And the merchant runs
j licro, and the mechanic runs there, and the
broker runs every where?nil looking for
hel|) from some one besides themselves. One
cries 44 d?n the banks." another 4,d?n the
Government," while every body damns all
who owes and cannot pay.
Now, we would give our friends a word
or two cf advice, and as it is given with
good feeling and the best intcuiiuu, we hope
it will be taken in good part, in the llrst
place, we say, ''keep cool"?" fi c t not thy
self?" for whore's the use of getting into a
passion and worrying yourselt ? it will do
no good, so lake things calmly and act like
a philosopher for once in your life. Wc
never saw any times so had but what they
might be mended if people sot about the
matter in the right way.
It i- almost useless to argue, or reason or
speculate upon the causes which have
brought about the present state of things,
except, so far as they may indicate the
proper remedy, but we will eive ati anecdote
thai ivr think lias a volume of instruction in
it. "My dear sir," said a gentleman to us,
?)!? Friday last, "1 lack &\J50 to take up a
li'ite in ilie hank to-day; what shall I do? ?
wliro can 1 burrow that amount?1' We
put him in the way of aid, and thus relieved
11un for the present. When we had done
so, we could not help reflecting a little, j
The gentleman who was afraid of b ing
" laid over," wore in his josoui a handsome
diamond pin, around his neck was a neat
gol.J guard chain, to which was attached a
valuable gold watch; and peering out of
his vest pocket, we noticed a gold pencil
case with an agate head. Now, here was
more value in trinkets than the amount lor
which he was in danger of being 'Maid over"
o o
in hank," and as we happen to know that
his house is furnished in a slyle corresponding
with the furniture of his person, can
any one be at a loss to tell the cause of
" hard times" with him, or in what manner
they might be remedied ? And yet this
gentleman has been no way extravngaut,
compared with the lest of the community.
11 is slyle of dress and living is not above
others of equal means, He owns real estate
which would ai one time command $50,0(H),
and other pioperty to a.i equal amount ", and
llrt ?!.. ...rl., I.:.~ ~l?' l
v/ i\'i * vuuugui >VU! Ill C 1 WljUUUj
anil lived in a style justified only by the
possession of half a milliojr',?lor he has a
large and iticreasi g?fatin!y?but he cannot
now realized $2 1,000 in cash, out of his
whole properly, and yet lus style of living
has not been changed in the least. Now the
fact is, and no one can deny it, there is a
struggle going on between style and means.
W c have been living 111 this country beyond
our means; property of all kinds has
had a fictitious value, hut its possessors have
been living as if that value were real. Money,
not hank notes, is scarce both here and
in I'mope, and a struggle is going on bctwe<
u the two countries in r.jard t its possession.
And why is it so scarce? Becau-o,
not content t > live as our frugal and
vir uotis parents lived before us, to cat. as
iliey eat, with steel lurks, to use b.itmnia or
china tea and coif e pots ct cetra, et e.etra,
we fliusl have silver anil gold, we have been
inch ing down the precious metals and work-'
ing them up into arte les >f luxury, til. the
bans of our currincy has heroine altog? ther
too small for the superstrocitire, which is,
of course, tottering ami is jo-tf d hy evcrv
adverse breeze in the commercial world. Is
it not so? Look around you. readet, among
your acquaintances, and see how many o!
them have more plate in their li uses tnan
m ncy in the bank. We never knew a
f ami! V that lived heimul their monue
?Ji?l not sou "hard times," and what applies
to families applies to a nation, which is only an
aj^reja.iou of families; and whatever rente
(1)' v\ ii 1 prove effectual in relieving ? tnhar-1
rasset! fannli s, will also relieve a nation.
The medicine may he si tv in us operation,
hut it will he sure in its ellVct.
The time has now come, when the wealthy,
the unemhatrassed. can do much to reI:
, . -1 . .
neve mo conimuiity?will itiey do it ? We
a-U them not ti>r their money, but !or their
example. Let them set an example of
economy and retronchun nt?! t them make
it fashionable to live hi an untas' ionablc
style, which their known wealth and independence
will enable them to do, and they
will do more good than they could do by
loaning out their money ever so fr< civ even
wi-re it twice as much as it is As ladies
lead the fashion in all rivilizi ti rommuni- i
lies, it is 10 them \\e must look tor a worthy
example ot "r. truuclnnoiit and reform" in
dress and living. Ileanty needs not the!
adornments of art, to make it lovely?and
the simple rose on the snowy bosom of youth,!
has more attraction than all the diamonds;
that ever glittered on the ebon skin of an j
eastern princess. Would that it could be
said of every American wife and daughter,
"she looketh well to the ways of her household
and cateth not the bread of idleness.
"Many daughters have done virtuously, but
thou cxcellest tlicm all."
Tyrolkse Pucjilistic Combats. ?The!
Zillei thaler has an innate passion lor these
rude battles. Often in a lonely mountain
path the lit seizes him, when it announces
and relieves itself by a peculiar ringing
cry. If the cry be answered, from whatever
dislanco, he need only follow the
sound to find an antagonist. And answered
the cry must be, if it reach the car of
mortal who understands its meaning?
so command the laws of honoV. * ?
My companion related that one clay a
handsome lad was on the mountain in
company with nn experienced grav-bear,
when he heard the cry. He answered it,
and his eyes flashed brighter, the color
deepened on his check. He followed the
' guiding Round, and on turning a projecti
ing rock met his dearest iricmi, his neighbor,
the accepted lover of hi . sister.
Had he been alone, it is likely that the
haggelen frenzy would for once have evap orated
innoxiously ; but the experienced
old rustic Iluggeller was present, and both
youths were ashumod to shrink from the
conflict. Laughing they began, and hookiog
their fingers Iragged each other hither
and thither, whilst the old man looked
0:1, encou;aging, observing, stimulating*,
deciding. Thus they gradually became
heated ; too violent a blow exasperated
one of the friends, who grasped the other,
filing him on the ground, and stooped over
him. The fallen Ilaggclcr, o\ isper.ited
in his turn, seized his ad vera y's nose
with his teeth, and strove to i.'ue it off*-?
the sufferer cried out, but the old man decided
that biting off' the nose is as law(*!
11 n c iliiroitiir a??I ' 1?" fI^l* "* 1
.... ...j wm mi; ct cs> I IIU CI?Illllfl"
taut who despaired of his nose took the
hint, and with his thumb gouged out an
eye of the uoscbiter. Both parties had
now bad enotign, and rose bleeding from
the ground, lite one of the future brothersin-law
noseless and the other one-eyed ;
whilst the old man, with high gratification,
pronounced that the laws of pugilism
an honor were fully satisfied.? [Lc
wald's lyrol and the Tyrolese.
REFLECTIONS oN MARRIAGE.
There is nothing o? so great importance
to us, as the good qualities of one
to whom we join ourselves for life; they
do not only make our present state agreeable,
but often determine our happiness
to all eternity. Where the choice is ieft
to friends, the chief point tinder consideration
is an estate. Where the parties
choose for themselves, their thoughts
turn mo4t upon the person. They have
both their reasons. The lirst would procure
many conveniences and pleasures of
life to the party whose interests they espouse;
and at the. same time may hope
that the wealth of their friend will turn
to their own credit and advantage. The
others are preparing for themselves, a
perpetual feast. A good person does not
ni'l V rsii?P hut pnnlinnn I n . n mwl K.^nilo n
^ - J . ?..w% vviiiuauv I w * ? ^ uiiu ui Ctlia U
secret pleasure anil complacency in the
beholder.
I should prefer a woman that is agreeable
in mv own eyes, and not deformed
in that of the world, to a celebrated beauty.
If you marry one remarkably beautiful,
you must h ivc a violent passion for
her, or you have not the proper taste of
her charms: and if you have such a passion
for her, it is odds but it would be
imbittcred with fears and jealousies.
Good nature and evenness of temper
will give you an easy companion for life;
virtue and good sense, an agreeable friend;
love un.J constancy, a good wife or busband.
Where we meet one person with
all these accomplishments, wc find art
hundred without any one of them. The
woi l<!, notwithstanding, is mote intent tin
o< 11 ii i ifl or i < r?n?t nil ili<> eli. 1: r?
, , ? _ ......... .... f ? |<ai ta ui i 11" j
w love rather to dazzle the multitude,,
than ron-ult our proper interest: and it is
one of the most unaccountable passions
of human nature, that we are at greater
pains to appear easy and happy to others,
than really to make ourselves so. Of all
disparities, that in humor makes the most
happy marriages, yet scarce enters into
our thoughts at the contracting of them.
Seveial that are in this respect unequally
yoked, and uneasy for life, with a person
of a particular character, might have
been pleased and happy with a person of
a contrary one, notwithstanding they arc
both perhaps equally virtuous and laudable
in their kind.
ii?r.? - - - - . - - *
ticiuii; murnge we mniioi no too inquisitive
ami discerning in the faults of
the person beloved, nor after it too dimsighted
and superficial. However perfect
and accomplished the person appears
to you at a distance, you will find many
blemishes and imperfections in her humor,
upon a more intimate acquaintance,
which you neve.- discerned, or perhaps
never suspected. Hi re, therefore, discretion
and good nature are to show their
strength; the first will hinderyour thoughts
from dwelling on what is disagreeable, the
other will raise in you all the tenderness
of compassion and humanity, and by degrees
soften those very imperfections into
beauties.
M arriagc enlarges the scene of our
happiness and miseries; a marriage of
love is pleasant; a marrige of interest
easy; and a marriage where both meet,
happy. A happy marriage has in it all
the pleasures of friendship, all the enjoyments
of sense and reason, and indeed
all the sweets of Jife. Nothing is a greater
mark of a degenerate and vicious age,
than the common ridicule which passes
on this state of life, it is, indeed, only
happy in those who can look down with
scorn or neglect on the impiety of the
times, and tread the paths of life together
in a constant uniform course of virtue