OFFICE 2ND FLOOR

Black Worsted Suits (any style of $18 and $20 Cassocks, $12, $14, $16, and $18

Special Inducements to Students. 36 Falls St. Niagara Falls, N. Y. Oppose the Postoffice.

St Joseph's Retreat,

A PRIVATE SANATARIUM

For the care and treatment of Insanity Mental and Nervous Diseases, Inebriety, and the Opium Habit. Conducted by the Sisters of Charity,

TAILORS,

GASSLER'S BAKERY,

Canada Side, NIAGARA FALLS

IMPERIAL HOTEL

Barber Shop

All Work Strictly First-Class.

F. A. LOCHER, Proprietor.

American Engine & Boiler Works

Manufacturers of Marine, Station-
ary and Portable

ENGINES AND BOILERS

Repairing on all branches of Ma chinery. Blacksmithing and Boiler work. Pipe and pipe fitting. Rags, Waste, Gaskets, Packing, Oils.

JOHN MAHAR, Prop. Cor. Niagara & Delaware Sts.

Tonawanda, N. Y Telephone No. 28.

VOL. XXXII.

A MORNING IN MAY.

The blush is on the blossom of the apple and the berry, And green the grass is growing there upon the level lea; The bombilating bumble-bee is making music merry,

And the bobolinks are building in the silver-berry tree.

There's sunshine in the meadow, and there's sunshine in the valley,

And there sunlight like a glory on the undulating hills; There's music in the underwood, in every aisle and alley,

And a thousand diamonds sparkle in the laughter of the rills.

The torrent down the mountain in the morning light is leaping.
It's rushing over ridges, and it 's roaring over rocks,
And down the verdant valley way the water wild is sweeping,
Where the cattle all are grazing, and the white and fleecy
flocks.

A thousand things are stirring in the greenwood and the grasses, And a thousand voices murmuring make music in the breeze ; The lads are in the garden getting lilacs for the lasses,

And the boys are pelting squirrels in the leafage of the trees.

The butterflies are flitting, and the dragon flies are floating
In the light that, like a slumber, lies upon the lazy lea;
And everything in nature its delight is now denoting
At the greening of the grasses and the greenage of the tree.
J. E. F. J.

True Heroism.

VERY generation has its popular heroes-idols at whose altars the world gladly pays a tribute of universal homage. The military genius, sword in hand, carves his way to fame and glory through the smoke and din of battle. The intrepid explorer braves the unknown dangers of Arctic seas, plants his banner in the icy wilderness and wins the plaudits of humanity. He who at the peril of his own life renders manhood some great service may be a true hero, but if selfish motives impel him to the deed he is merely an adventurer, a gambler who stakes his life on a turn of fortune's wheel.

Without its moral equivalent physical courage is as "sounding brass and tinkling cymbal." So highly, however, do some regard the man who displays a mere contempt for the death that the murderer going to the scaffold or the electric chair, the unholy light of a reckless bravado shining in his eyes, is almost apotheosized by an effete press.

The highest type of courage is that which enables its possessor to endure the "slings and arrows of outrageous fortune" with uncomplaining fortitude. It is that inner consciousness of upright intention which arms us with strength to despise the opinions of men

No. 17.

and follow in the path of rectitude even though every inch of the way be strewn with thorns.

This is the spirit which animates the good Sister of Charity, who willingly gives her life to the cause of mankind, and who neither hopes for nor receives the praises or emoluments which the world confers on its ephemeral and glittering heroes of a day. From the charge of selfishness she must ever remain immune. Her very identity is a mystery to those who have most reason to bless her name. With none of the incentives that spur men on to deeds of valor her whole life is one act of sublime courage.

Follow her into that stronghold at whose portals brave men tremble-the lair of contagious disease. She wears no charm that could protect her frail body from the monster's attacks, yet not fear but a smile of heavenly pity and purity irradiates her countenance as she tenderly administers to the wants of the poor, stricken wretch, pallid with the ravages of the dreaded typhus. There, too, in that living tomb, whence to heaven ascends the cry "unclean, unclean," in the pure Sister of Charity the leper finds a nurse most devoted and tender.

Behold her on the field of battle where lie the dead in many a ghastly heap, the "red badge of courage" decorating each lifeless form-here where the wounded shriek delirious in their agony she flits about like an angel of light, moistening parched lips and bandaging with fingers of love the ragged rents that sabre and shell have made in the soldier's quivering flesh. An angel? Aye, well may she be cal ed an angel of the battlefield. She it is who, with the dew of death mantling forehead and brow, bends her head to catch that fair-haired boy's last whispered farewell to loved ones at home, breathing words of comfort in his ear as his soul is freeing itself from its earthly tenement. to wing its way to the Great Father of all. A mother's, a sister's, a dead soldier's prayers attend her as she falls down lifeless at her self appointed post of duty.

Here her story ends; not in the chronicles of fame. will you find her name, nor yet in the annals of the wealthy. No marble monument, no stately headstone marks her last resting place. There in an obscure corner beneath the sacred soil of her community's little burying ground she sleeps, and only the moan. of the wind disturbs the peace of her couch as it passes through the long grass above her grave.

Ah, you who weigh the stars; you whose ears catch the music of the spheres; you who have solved the mystery of the universe, say how stands in the balance the pompous deeds of ambition when weighed with the life-sacrifice of this black-robed nun?

The muse of history will pass her by and chant poems of praise to the philosopher, the philanthropist

W

E the people of the United States, in order to form a more perfect union, establish justice, insure domestic tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general welfare, and secure the blessings of liberty to ourselves and our posterity, do hereby ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America."

With these simple, unequivocal words is prefaced our National Constitution-a document fully as great, fully as sacred as any which graces the pages of civil history-a document whose broad, liberal tenets of government receive the respect, if not always the strict obedience of upwards of seventy millions of American people--and whose survival, practically unchanged for over a century, is liberty's greatest and most significant triumph, the closing century's proudest boast.

To speak of the beginnings of our Constitution means to speak of hardships, of trials, of sufferings; it means to look back upon those stirring scenes which brand the decade following the year 1781 as the crucial --the pivotal period of American history. There they were, the thirteen colonies, their Declaration of Independence "appealing to nature and to nature's God." The arbitrament of war had justified their course. In their possession now was the boon of liberty, Eberty purchased with the blood of Lexington, the sufferings of Valley Forge, the hardships, the horrors of a seven years' struggle with one of the mightiest nations that ever profaned the use of power. But they faltered. With foreign oppression removed, within all was chaos.

Jealousies, hatreds, born of religious, political and commercial intrigues and dissensions nourished a spirit most hostile to unity and harmony. Insurrections and open rebellions were alarmingly frequent. All semblance of law and order was fast disappearing. The Articles of Confederation were but a name, they had no restraining influence, they were powerless to cope with the new conditions. Congress was a room full of men whom nobody heeded." Insidious forces were then at work to subvert the most signal victory of modern times into an ignominious and disheartening failure. Anarchy appealed to the people and beckoned them on, the dark foreboding clouds of civil war were hovering dangerously near, the prophecies of our European friends seemed destined to speedy fulfilment, the infant life of American liberty was all but

over.

When, from the convention assembled at Philadelphia, there appeared a force, our National Constitution, which by its gradual ratification dispelled all the nebula of gloom, of disorder, of uncertainty breathed into those thirteen colonies the breath of life and vigor, transformed the spidery web of their Con

federation into the solid bonds of lasting Union, and crowning the noble work of the Revolution swept monarchy and anarchy from America's shores and rendered possible the conception and prosperity of our present Great Republic.

And truly, when our Constitution is examined in the light of history, its sterling qualities loom up in all their grandeur, those qualities which recommended it to the American people at a time of their greatest need, which explain, in a great measure, its curative effect upon those diseased conditions; yes, those grand concessive qualities, born of purest patriotism, which we, even at this late day, cannot fail to appreciate and admire. Our National Constitution as it came forth in 1787 was a document of compromises, a grand trinity of compromises, whereby slavery was recognized, intense sectional traditions left for the time undisturbed, the small State assured equal voice with its larger neighbor. Yes, slavery was recognized and legalized by that document, not he ause its evils were unknown, not because the false principles underlying it were not seen and appreciated. No, but that a nation might live, that these thirteen colonies, united and harmonious in their stand against the foreign foe, might remain united and harmonious in the cnjoyment of the blessings their sacrifices had wen, under one flag of one common government, Furthermore and chiefly, our Constitution was and is but the cocrete expression of our country's spirit, of that deep underlying spirit whence must issue all last ng organic doctrines. As such it could not embody enduring principles other than these springing from its own environment; it could not ignore slavery any more than it could consistently r cognize or provide for 1.6bility and royalty. Were it built wholly upon theory, were it fashioned after Fr nch examples, it might indeed have been a perfect document. Yes, it might have heeded theory, ignored grim, awful reality, and history would have told a different tale. That slave y compromise in our Constitution, despite the awful strife of which it was the germ, is the grandest monument to a people's patriotism and forbearance that American history affords--the greatest tribute that local sectional feeling and prejudice have ever offered the shrine of national good.

But aside from these concessive, these, we might term, local qualities, our Constitution contains doetrines which, though national in their direct application, are universal in their influence. These doctrines are the embodiment of man's true and natural rights, doctrines which have demonstrated by their repeated verification that soverignity's true abiding place is with the people themselves, that a nation can and does exist, influential and prosperous, without having recourse to Casarism and despotism, and what is more, the Old World has directly felt their invigorating and humanizing influence. Is the monarch to-day the power he was a century since? Are the people as voiceless in the making of their own laws? The Old World's despotism is tempered, its people have awakened to a realization of their own rights and powers. Yes, and when their good judgment and common sense mount above natural prejudice they may see in these United States a fitting model for all their effort, the best governed country of modern times, and in the