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9 lewis m. obist, Proprietor. J |^n f nbepenirent Jfamflg Utetospaper: .for % promotion of t|t political, Social, ^gricnlfaral artb Commercial Interests of t|e J5?ttt{j. |teems-mso anradyakce VOLUME XII YORKVILLE, SOUTH CAROLINA, THURSDAY MORNING, SEPTEMBER 20, 1866. NUMBER 22. % Stledfb Starg. THE MONEYED LETTER. An Old Mall-Carrier's Story, It was not long since that I was on a journey through some portions of the West, and stopped for the night at a rude inn, away in the depth of the forest, whoae obief recommendation was the frank, genuine hospitality which was accorded to all whom fortune threw in the way of the enterprising landlord. It was about dark, before the full shades had spread themselves over the earth, that a single horse stopped before -the door, and an old man alighted. I should have pronounced him seventy years tiAssn r\ f ana an/) at?/vnr*ln moi^a TVlfK infiVOQ j caio Ui auu onuu^ij uaauuj niwu ovaivv a dispositioD to stoop in bis frame. When a boy bad taken charge of his animal, the old man drew a large mail-bag from the front of the saddle, and disappeared with it in the gloom "Who is he ?" I ventured to ask the host, who jast theD passed my chair. "Tbe old man with the mail?" Mine host was a Yankee, like myself. "It is old Jonathan Hockie?has carried tbe mail between here and B these ever so many years." "Does he stop here ?" "Oh, yes; he will be over when ho has taken the mail to the post-office. He always brings my letters " I was glad of this, for I had taken a sadden strange interest in tbe old man. What vicissitudes and ohanges he must have seep in his long experience! How I wished there was to be an opportunity for me to learn the history of his life, with all his most eventful experience 1 How many scenes I might gather whioh would amuse and benefit my readers at home. I was still reflecting upon these matters, when the door opened, and the very object of my meditation entered. I was not doomed to any disappointment on beholding him oloser, for his frame was still massive, and his eye bold and dear. There was that look of intelligence in bis features which oonvinced me that he could relate the story of his life with clearness, and in a manner to interest. Yet how did I know that he had any story to relate?that he had ever seen a single adventure?or wonld comprehend my meaning were I to seek such a relation? I did not know it, but I was resolved to ascertain. So when the old man lighted hia pips and took bis seat upon the rade piazza, I j drew a cigar from my case and followed his lead. "Good evening, bit," I said, throwing myself upon a seat beside him. He took a quiet but earnest survey of me "from his large, truthful eyes, and returned my salutation with courtesy. I pioceeded to inform him of my object in thus intruding, and hoped he would gratify me if not too much of a task. "No intrusion, young man," he aaid, with a peouliar smile. "I'd like to talk with such a9 you?men from the heart of your great cation, though it's a little I know of it after all. You see I have been here away from all sort o' people such aa I used to know in my younger days, for I was born in New Hampshire, and lived there for twenty years nearly. I know I'm a great ways from there now. I've no kith or kin on earth, that I know of, and all I pick up is from a few stray newspapers, and such passengers as I ohance to meet." There was something so solemnly earnest in the old man's tones, and the interest I j had felt in him increased at every moment. We oonversed for some time upon such topics as Bcemed to interest the old man much, for I felt that it would be more honorable for me to seek his gratitude than my owd. He listened with every appearance of gratification to my acoount of things in general in connection with our national and local prosperity. Upon these topios we conversed till it was so late that I felt my curiosity most give way for the night at least. "Do you leave at an early hour in the morning ?" I asked. "Yes," he replied; "my route is so long that it behooves me to be upon the way as soon as practicable. 1 dislike riding in the dark, especially since I am getting so old. I shall be seventy-three in a few weeks? an old man. Besides, I once had a taste of adventure which cured mo pretty effect- j ually of any desire to travel in the dark." "Indeed I" I exclaimed, gratified beyond i measure. "Were it not too late, I should ! be more than pleased to hear it from your; own lips." fit is getting a little late," he replied,: taking an antiquated but faithful time-piece ; from his vest; "but you have been enter-1 taining me all the evening, and it shall not! be said that I refused to teli you a single i little story So, if you are inclined to hear, I will spin one, as the sailors have it." 1 assured him of my gratification, and after taking a bolt, upright position, and laying down his pipe beside him upon the bench, the genial old mail-carrier commenced : "As I told you, I was bom down in good old Puritan New England, and lived there till I was some twenty years of age. My | name, I might say, is Jonathan Ilockie.?! At the age of twenty I had saved money enough to bring mo pretty far West, as West was then. I had no kindred, being : an orphan, and so I came on till my slen-lar mnana tterfi exhausted. I couldn't well have gone much farther, for I stopped at the extremity, of stage travel, and that was in a region so wild that J. shuddered when comparing it with the more civilized land I had left. But I found a home there, and the wild kind of life I began then I have followed to this day with little exception. I <?I have seen Indian wars and many tumults of other descriptions, but have always kept from them, if possible, for I am a peaceable mau by nature. For forty years I h*ve carried mails from one point to an other upon the frontier, chiefly as yon saw me arrive to night?on horseback I have met Iodians, and I have encountered worse desperadoes of my own oolor on the outside. I have always made it a point to get over aay route by daylight, if it were possible; but if not, I used to make the remainder of the journey in the evening, and thought nothing of it in my younger days. But, as I was saying, I had an adventure in the end that put me on my guard. "It was twelve or thirteen years ago, when I was younger than I am uow, and muoh better fitted for hardships, that I was rnnninc this same ronte that I oafrv now. It is good fifty miles from here to tfte other end of the route, sod with the roads, or paths?for there is nothing more?it makes me good day's ride, even 10 summer. The route was new then?that is, it had just been laid out, and a little roundabout way taken, so as bring in three villages along the away. . "The village of A was quite a place for the times?half a dozen houses scattered along, here and there. The rest were just settlements, where I left about one letter in a month, and a paper half as often. At both ends of the route was a little village, and when I say that these five places contained every house upon the route, you oan guess something how lonely it must have been. "There was a man in B , the other extremity of my route, who expected a sum of money by mail, and he made a deal more noise than I should about it. One day he had a letter assuring him that it would he sent just a week from date. But the week went by, and no money. "'Now I shall expeot you to bring me that hundred dollars to-morrow night,' he says to me one morning as I was starting for this place. "There was generally a crowd around when I went, and on this speoul occasion there were several whose looks I didn't like, though I wasn't really afraid for myself. I thought Augustus Britohard had better keep still about bis money, for his own sake. I gave him a wink, but he wouldn't heed it, and kept telling how.sure he was that it would be along in the next mail. "I made my journey over, and started back next morning. I went on till noon, and then stopped at A , where the mail was changed while I ate dinner and fed my horse. "After dinner I took a smoke, for my pipe was always my best friend, and after that was smoked out, I went down to the barn, where I had left my horse. But no horse was there ! I looked in every improbable place, to see that somebody hadn't changed him, and then I asked the innkeeper. He knew nothing about it, and it required quite an effort to convince him that I was not joking. "Pretty soon we had raised a general alarm, and all the men turned out to help look for him. But it didn't amount to anything. We spent more than two hours Innliinr# fnr Kim n/1 fin?llu anm? wnman lUUam^ IV* utui| ?u'j uun?^ wvujv w? ?espied him coming back the aame way we had come that morning. But that was all. We did not find any explanation of the affair then, though I found one afterwards. "I paoked off at once, and rode as fast as I could to make up lost time. But I had lost too much, and the roads were too rough for me to make up. It was ten or eleven miles to C , the only settlement between A and B It was after five o'clock when I reached it, and toward lix when I was ready to start again. I bad yet fifteen miles to go?most of the way through woods?and, but for the faot that I was well acquainted with the route, it would have been a difficult one to follow. "I resolved to make the best of what daylight remained, and so I put Charlie?my knvaa?frt hpHf. r>f his snpfid. and we wont on an easy trot, where the ground would allow, for two miles. It was getting a little dusk, and I wai thinking whether Augustus Birtobard would be at the postoffice when I should arrive with the mail, when my horse gave a little start. I looked up and 6aw three men oomiDg down a sort of glade, where few trees grew, and they were olose to me already. They were all mounted, though I did not reoognize any of them. " 'Are you going to B V says one of them holding up his linger. I remember just the motion, to this day. 'That is my destination,' said I, keeping a sharp look out for their movements. ? 'Then if you don't object,' be continued 'we will ride along with you. We have been off and on the road till we had just made up our minds to camp for the night. It is a mighty blind road 6tranger I' " 'It is,' I returned, 'and you are welcome to ride with me if you see fit. But I advise you to hasten, for it is a still more disagreeable road after dark.' " 'That is a fact,' the fellow continued, 'especially when a chap has letters in the mail with money in 'em ! ? 'What do you mean by that?' I demanded, lookiog at him carelessly, but sharply, I suspect. " ?Oh! nothing,' he returned, very coolly, 'only I was out to B , when Britchard wa9 so anxious for you to bring his money to-night?let's see?'twas yesterday morning.' "He spoke so cool about it, and gave a faiot laugh, that I thought possibly he might be an honest fellow, though I could not help thinking that if they were inclined to bo rascals I should stand but a poor chance with three of them. I had only a pair of pistols, which I had carried so long that I could not have sworn as to their condition, and a sharp clasp knife, that I carried as a tool rather than a weapon. These I men, as I saw at a glance, had rides, and it was more than likely that they wero armed in other respects, though these aloDe were sufficient to give them an advantage over me. "I coald not well watoh them, for they fell behind, and began to jabber with eaoh other. So I pot Charlie to hia steps about as lively as he coald go, and they had to use themselves to keep up with him. It was very muoh such a night aa to-night? star-light and quite tolerable, while you were in the open field, but as dark as you please after one got into the woods. "A little ways from where I had encountered them we came to a sort of a prairie, or desert, I should call it, where nothing but a . J / ?... ft,;.?.. lIQDiea Orup ui yuna otdi ?ic w. jl ui f?mm several miles aoross, and by the tima we were half way it became as (lark as it would be daring the night. "I kept a hand on my pistol now, for if there was to be any foaltykjp&keXpeoied- it woald come soon. My worst fears were now confirmed in every respect; except, perhaps, in the remit. We had already almost reached the edge of the forest, and I had gently drawn one of my pistols, and held it cooked, in readiness for any emergency. I had heard my companions, if I may use the name, whispering behind me, and my fears were getting to be pretty well exoited. "Just as we were entering the shadows, one of the horsemen sparred up, and was beside me before I bad really any snspioion of bis movements. If he bad strnok the moment he came near enough, it woald have been all iD his hands. I was at his meroy. Bat as he was trying to urge his horse alongside mine, close enough to exactly suit his purpose, a fallen log oansed bis horse to deviate a trifle, and I saw a long knife in his right hand Then I knew bis purpose. "Quiok as thonght I turned in my saddle, and presented the pistol fall at his head He saw the movement, and palled up his animal with a jerk. My brain was in a great whirl, and I hardly knew what I was going to do. At least I had no parpose in view. I only realized that those three men meant to kill me, away there in that gloomy forest, and I started np my old horse upon the impulse of the moment. "No sooner had I started than I heard the snapof a rifle jnst behind me, and one of tne gang sang ont?'Shoot the ous 1 My gun won't go off!' Of course, by the time they were ready to shoot again, I had gained npon them considerable. They had rather stopped to see the fun go on, and, u : i .. j sure enougn, u was guiug uu ai a preuy guuu rate. I bent low, aod when the ball came ?for it did come io good earnest?it pass-' ed just over my head. "By this time I bad something of a plan in my mind, for it was getting evident to that T nmild never get awav from them by the speed of my horse. I seized my mailbag, and rolled to the ground, hoio I never knew. My horse was a little frightened, and I liked that all the better. I let him go, and got out of the way with my mail as soon as possible. It was so dark then that I had no trouble in hiding, and soon I heard them pass me by, looking upon the ground as they went, for the villiaos fancied that they had heard me drop. "Then I began to think what I should do. It was fully eight miles, as I calculated, to B f and most of the way through woods. If I could get through, I should be safe. To turn baok would be more dangerous, for I could not orose the r?l?in h*?>iind ma without hainc aaan. if anv i ? , J one wu looking for me Perhaps I cauld dodge them through the woods to B . I would try it. | "I had soarcely made the attempt wheD the follows came upon Charlie. It seemed be had stopped soon after I had left bis baok. Id a moment they were divided, and were scouring the woods for me. I oanDOt tell what my thoughts were at that moment. The idea of boiog mardared in a forest at night, or of killing a human being in self-defence, was far from pleasant. I had no time for thoughts; I had to act . . 1 just men. "One of them had taken the road, or path, i and one of the others came upon each side | of it. The one upon the side whero I was, I was coming direotlj toward me. I moved I away very cautiously, for I had no idea of I forming his acquaintance. But fate was against me. I held onaecurely to my bag, whioh was over my left arm, and carried my pistol in the light hand. By some unlucky chance I ran afoul of a bush, which 1 stopped my progress, and created suoh a j commotion that the fellow heard me. "'This way!' he sung out, and came j along, with his ride ready for instant use. ! I knew there was no esoape, for he would fire at any movement on my part, and he j was so near me I preferred not to run the j risk of bis bullet. So, orouching behind j the shrub, I waited for him to oome up. I i held my pistol at full cook, and I had no intention of sparing the rascal's life. " 'The old cuss is crawiio' somewnere here', he sung out] 'I'll fix him.' "My mind was bade up then, more thau ; ever. He would shoot a wounded man for ! the sake of a hundred dollars, to be divided ! between the three of them ! But there are many men just as low as that and even | lower. lie came right along, though it I seemed an age to me, and when he bent ' over the bush I fired, for I dared wait no j longer! j "Fortunately my aim was good, and he fell where ho stood. I could hear the rest of them coming, and taking my precious charge upon try arm again, I started on a run through the woods I knew they would have to stop a minute and see what was the matter, and I hoped to get out of their hearing. "I was more successful than I could have hoped for. I got somo distance, and then I waited to listen. I could hear a contused searching, and knew that they were lookj ing for me in the vicinity I could walk quite comfortably now, withouc danger of : disturbing them, and a new idea entered my i head. If I could get to my horse and ' mount him, perhaps I could ride away. It would be preferable to walking all the dis- i taoce through the forest. I <>I worked off in that direotion, and soon < reached my horse. Theirs were .standing elose by, whera they had left them, to join I in a oloser aearoh than they could oonduot 1 upon horseback. I ltd my animal soma 1 distance, to maka sure that.they would not i suspicion my movements, and then I moan- < ted. As I said, my constant travel of the \ road for nearly a year had made ma pretty familiar with it, aaptoially in tbia taction, and I pot tba old horse through to the beat of his ability. I expeoted pursuit, but strangely enough it did not eome. About ten o'olook I reached B?, and at once communicated what had happened. There was exoitement there I tell you. I do not believe a person in the whole place slept a wink that night. But it was all quiet, and in the morning it was whispered aboat who the rasoals were. They were new-comers, who had been stopping there for several days, but had left the morning previous with the professed intention of going baok to St. Louis. It seemed they bad overheard the remark of Augustus, concerning his money, and had resolved to appropriate it to their own use. ' A squad set out with me next morning, and went to the soene of thefraoas. There 1 was a spot of blood upon the leaves where j I had shot him, but no signs of either liv- c ing or dead. Some weeks afterward the c tmell from a hollow log attracted the atten- b tion of the hunters, and there they found v the body, stowed away. The rasoals never i were heard of afterwards. Word was sent c to St. Louis, but nothing ever after trans- e pired. I took the precaution to go well c armed, for I knew not but they might wish h to repeat the experiment. But I saw b nothing of them, or of any similar adven- b ture since." n "But the letter in question 7" I asked, h "Did it come to hand safely 7" o "Quite so, when it oame. But it was li not till nearly a week after that it arrived, c So the villian8 bad all their trouble to no h purpose, even if they had secured the bag." c I bade the old man a hearty good eve f 1 L iL _ 1 / t!_ 1 a ! ning, ana Dom retirea reeling a pleasure i at the meeting. In the morning, before I t had risen, I saw him ready to depart. I ti hastened down as soon as possible; but he c bad gone. I almost folt as if a friend of il years had left me, for I had intended to d speak with him again, if only for passing h adieu. p JjJkfllatteflits. . J e Debtor and Creditor. 0 As this qaestion is oocupying much at- P tentioa from the people of this State, and is e now under consideration by the Legislature, v we extract below some rematka made by * Judge Reese, in a recent address to the ? Graod Jury of Baldwin County, in Georgia. His views are worthy of cousideration : It requires no prophetic eye to see that ? the feeling now being engendered between the debtor and oreditor class (unless a ? course of conduct different from that now l? being pursued by both parties be adopted) ; will culminate in deadly hostility, in law- 11 lessness, and in serious injury to the agricultural interests of the country. On one 81 hand, the debtor, whose prosperity consist- 0 ed principally in slaves, and who, by rea son of emancipation, is not now possessed * of property sufficient to discharge his pecu- J niary liabilities, feels that the aotion of Government has relieved him from all moral obligation, and is, therefore, indifferent as to the payment of his deffts. On the other hand, the creditor, seeing this indifference, is, in most cases, proceed- o iug to obtain judgment, so as to be ready ]j 10 enforce the collection of his debt to the extent of the debtor's assets, whenever the law shall allow him to do so. This course of conduct, by the respec- ( tive parties, brings about mutual charges tl of dishonesty and unfair dealing, and must, ? if persisted in, eventually lead to a state of things easily imagined, hard to be depioted, ^ and greatly to be deplored. * I propose, briefly, to establish the proposition, that in all oases of debts contracted r< prior to the 1st day of June, 1866, where s /J ? k f n* Jioa nnf onffininnnt? r\f to discharge all his liabilities, without leav- 0 iDg his family comparatively destitute, it ^ will be to the interest of the debtor, to the interest of the creditor, and for the good of 1 the country, that there should be a com- P pounding between the parties at once, they 1 taking for their guide the rule of conduct 0 prescribed by Him who spake as never man 1 spoke, viz : "As ye would that men should do uuto you, do you also unto them like- 1 wise." P First, then, will it be to the interest of j the debtor 1 It is clear, to my mind, that I the planter who finds himself without a suf| ficiency of property at a fair valuation, to j' pay off his indebtedness now, cannot reason! ably, under the present labor system, and 1 I with heavv Deouniary liabilities hanging I over him, to better bis condition in the a pursuit of bis former vocation ; and without F capital he cannot embark in any other bus!- 1 ness. It is not human nature for man to ^ be industrious and energetic with judgment liens against him beyond the value of his s property. He is constantly watching and a expecting the officer of the law to take the s last luxury, if not the last comfort, from c his family. He becomes unmanned, useless to his family and to society. It re- t quires no lengthened argument to prove [ that a debtor thus circumstanced will have 1 more left by compounding with bis credi- i j tors now, than he will hare by waiting for j ; the end of the law ; for I am fully persua- j ; ded that thorc are bat few creditors who, when properly approached by the honest; debtor, will not be willing to compound upon liberal terms, taking into consideration, if you please, the losses of himself and debtor by the aotion of the Government in i iboiishiDg the institution of slavery, and the ratio whioh the debt bears to such loss58 oompared with the property left to eaoh. You may, among creditors now and then, Eind a "pound-of-flesh creature," who will be unwilling to compound upon any terms, but he will be the ezoeption, unless I am muoh mistaken in the spirit pervading the jreauor oissb, is ?ibo lueir inieiugonoa la understanding their own interest. Second. Will it be to the interest of the sreditor ? Every lien obtained diminishes the assets of the debtor to the extent of soats, at least, and takes from the oreditor :he colleotiDg commissions. Although the 3tate has no bankrupt law, and may not lave the constitutional power to pass one iffecting contraots made prior to its enactxient, it is almost certain that Congress will rery soon pass a general bankrupt law, in vbioh tbey may, as tboy bave power to do, u the distribution of the assets of the bankupt, put all debts upon the same footing, n entire disregard of local liens; but if uoh law to be passed should give priority o liens, the expenses of the proceedings n bankruptcy must necessarily take preoelenoe of everything else; and judging from he experience of those who ate familiar vith the operation of the bankrupt aots leretofore passed by Congress, there will be irecious little left for distribution among ireditors, leaving the oreditor not, by many legrees, as well off as he would have been >y compounding now, without costs and vithout judgments. Besides, if the ored tor compounds cow and discharges the lebt, leaving to the debtor not only what is exempt by our insolvent laws, but a sufficiency of property to enable him to live and lope, my word for it, if he be a man imiued with proper sensibilities, he will be a inndred fold more anxious to disobarge the Doral obligation of a debt from which he ias been released by tbo voluntary action f his creditor, than he ever will be if reeased by operation of law. In the one ase, be will foel that he is relieved from lis legal obligation merely?in the other ase, be will feel that he has been relieved rom his moral as well as bis legal obligaion. Such is the nature *of man. So, hat in every aspect of the subject, it seems o me, it is to the interest of the oreditor to ompound now. Lot the debtor and credtor alike, romember the proverb, "A proent man foreseeth the evil and hideth imself, but the simple pass on and are vanished." Third. Will it be for the good of the ountry? It is undeniable that the largest umber of persons, who have not a sufficicny of property left to discharge their indebtdness, belong to tue agricultural olass of ur citizens, and have been brought to their resent condition by the actioo of the Govrnment in abolishing the institution of slaery; and unless these persons can, in some ray, be relieved from the incubus of indebtdness incurred prior to the 1st of June, 865, the oountry must lose the benefit of a irge portion of its agricultural talent and nterprise. The last Legislature of the tate, seeing the difficulties in the premises, ttempted a remedy in the passage of what . lrnAmn ma tiTkn Qfftn T .O m " Kll f Qjifh > auurr u an - x ug umj jumtt j vuv^ ?? ?? be meagre orops of this year, amounting, 3 many districts of the State, almost to a iilure, taken in connection with the con truotion put upon said act by the Chairman f the Judioiary Committee, who reported be bill, that a failure to pay one-fourth of debt by the first day of January of any ear, makes the whole collectable, it is now casonably certain that said act will not af 3rd the relief intended Liability of the Banks. The following is the memorial of several f the Banks of South Carolina, asking reef from the imposition of penalties precribed by law, and presented to the iegislature, last week, by Mr. Campbell of lharleston. The memorial is signed by be President of the Bank of Charleston, ? i- * ?L. a... 4. u i:? r>_ )UDK 01 luu ouue ui ouuiu \jmuuua, i cule's Baok, Bank of South Carolioa, and Manters' and Mechanics' Bank : The memorial of the President and Diectors of the several Banks of this State howeth : That they have, in common with the ommunity, felt severely the losses and ifficulties incident to (he war. For five years nearly all the payments of he country, and nearly all the changes of roperty, have resulted in investments in he securities of the Confederate States and f the several States and institutions in hat Confederacy. These results were a necessity of the imes. For if a different course had been mrsued, all the sources of supply, all the hannels of internal trade, all the exchanges f society must have stopped. There was no other medium, during the ;rcater part of the time, than Confederate tills, and scarcely any other securities but hose which have been mentioned. The Southern cause, in which we hoped nd trusted, depended upon the confidence ilaced in these mediums and these securiics. Hence the large amounts held by' the Sanks. The Backs held, and still hold, other ecurities; but these are at present unavailable. They cannot be realized but by acrifioes which it would be neither expeliont to make, nor just to require. Like individuals, the Banks require ime; like the oountry, they Deed the slow >ut sure processes of industrial re-action. Che thorough breaking up of our system of ndustry, both in the cities and in the coun,ry, the settlement and direction of labor, inder new influences, new rewards and new irrangements for subsistence, require for kll classes of people, and ail departments >f business, patienoe, forbearance and consideration. These general views admit of a peculiar tpplioation to the Banks. Id the obarters of all oor joint stock Banks there is a provision "that in ease of failure, each stockholder, &o., shall be liable and held bound for any sum not exceeding twice the amount of his, her or their share or subscription." Your memorialists respectfully suggest that this provision was intended to guard against reokless and extravagant acts in the course of banking operations, and to afford a motive for care in the appointment of officers, and of prudence in management, but not against the disasters of war and the contingenoea of revolution. The present condition of thiogs was never in the minds of the men who framed the charters. : Your memorialists respectfully suggest I that this olause creates a penalty to the State, to be enforced or released by the State, as they shall deem just under the cironmstanoes of the ooantry. The Legislature has reserved to itself entire authority over the oharters of our Banks. Should your Honorable Body see fit to exercise this authority, your memorialists submit that true wisdom is conservative, and that precipitancy will most probably be injurious to all the interests involved. Your memorialists respeotfully ask of your Honorable Body three things, via: First. The consideration and release of the liability of stockholders just referred to. Seoond. Time for the restorative influences of peace, of civil order, of individual resumption of the ordinary occupations of industry?for industry is the life of the oountry, and it has not had time to enlist itself in new pursuits and relations. Third. The continued administration of the affairs of the Banks under the authority of their respective Presidents and Directors. It is believed that these offioers can best collect the debts, that they can best realize iL.I- ? k 1 J kL.i ~kl 1 uieir uiuer roseaus, nuu uiat uu utuer pittu would be more expeditions, and none so economical. The expenses of all the Banks have for more than a year been reduced to the lowest possible point. Your memorialists respectfully refer to the fact that in every Bank charter there is a clause providing for the expitation of the charter, and declaring that any moneys or profits, which on such or any other dissolution of the corporation may at the time be owned or possessed by it, shall be held by the Directors for the use and benefit of all persons holding shares in said corporation. Your memorialists respeotfully ask that the spirit of this provision be applied to the present condition of our Banks, and that the Directors of the Banks respectfully* oe suiDunzea 10 saiuiuisier toe assets whoout an assignment, subject to fluon limitations as jour Honorable Bodj shall deem proper; And your memorialists will ever pray, &o. How Long People will Live ! Wo hear much said about the uncertainty of human life, but we are apt to ignore the fact that it is only to man's individual existence that this uncertainty attaches. Nothing is more conclusively established, for example, than that the dread Reaper's scythe outs a olean swath over the surfaoe of the earth every thirty three years, garnering into eternity, during every centnry, so to speak, three full, successive orops of ho maoity. "Thus every year, as it wings its Sight, takes note of the death-throes of thirty million mortals, who, at the rate of one every second of time or ninety thousand eaoh day, experience a change of worlds? Their places are supplied by births in equal number, and this new growth springs up to meet its fate from the same sickle's inexorable sweep. One quarter of all who are born die beforo reaching seven years of age ; only one half pass beyond their seventeenth year. There is, therefore, a natural law of mortality, the operations of which, while they appear eccentric, uncertain, and irregular as to individuals, are fixed, systematic, and calculable when applied to masses or communities of men. For instance, an English writer has asserted, that out of one hundred thousand persons born at any particulr time, a certain number will yield up their life in each year; in other words, the aggregate will be diminished in an increasing but regular proportion till none are left alive.? Of the entire number named, ouly one half will reach forty-five years of age; sixty thousand nine hundred and forty one will live to the age of twenty-nine; and out of the survivors, exactly one in a hundred will j:_ il 11 : (lie in iuc luituwiug jcar. j^uin^-acveu thousand nine hundred and ninety-six will live to be sixty years old ; and eleven hundred and twenty two will die in their sixtieth year. So nicely, as well as frequently, have such observations been made, that rules, comparatively correct, may even be applied to large numbers of people of the same age. Taking ten thousand persons of the age of fifty-two, we will find that one hundred and fifty-two will die before reaching fifty three, and so on. It is said that, with reference to the whole population of London, the same number of deaths by consumption occur in that city in each year; and similar regularity is confidently predicated of the various other contingencies to which life is subject A broad distinction, k? ,^i? ujureuver, ia iu uc ui?wu ucvwosu iuo icialive "expectation of life," as it is termed, in England and our country. Americans,' nototiously, live, move, and have their being upon a high-pressure principle, which fearfully decreases their chances of long life. Ola age, with us, is all the more to be revered because so rarely met with.? Nowhere in the civilized world are the words of Soripture so applicable as to our DeoDle, of whom it literally may be said that they "do not live out half their days," not so much because they are "wioked," as because they are so restless. Some iaterestiDg figures have been given respectiog the mean average of life attained by individuals engaged in various employments, which will be found worthy of oare ful examination. The statement was prepared by order of the Massachusetts Legislature a few years ago. Agriculturists were found to average a life-time of 63.93 years; bankers, 43.45; bank offioers, 68.76; blacksmiths, 51.44; butchers, 50; oaliooprinters, 51 33 ; carpenters, 49.39 ; clerks, 34 32; clergymen, 56 72; ooopers, 58.37; editors, 40; gentlemen, 58.19; hatters, 54.17; jewelers, 44.05; judges and jus,i af a r i jn I! tices, do ; lawyers, 0446 ; maoninists, 36 41 ; manufacturers, 43.23 ; masons, 47.78; mechanics, 43.46; merchants, 61.71; musicians, 39.86; operatives, 32.93; painters, 42.68; physioians, 64,94; printers, 38 92; public offioers, 66.84; ropemakers, 64.60; shipwrights, 66.27; shoemakers, 43.12; tailors, 44.36; teaohers, 34.46; traders, 45 36. These figures are suggestive in several respects; bat ia none more forcibly than as urging the claims of Life Assurance upon the attention of the community. If the various statements made herein are true?and there can be but little doubt on that point ?the most obtuse observer oan draw from them inferences which must be unanswerable arguments in favor of the Life Assuranoe system. Men, of whatever oondition and station, who have wives and obildren dependent upon them, owe it to themselves, to their families, and to the community at large, to place the protecting segis of a substantial life-policy between these loved ones and the poverty which must otherwise overtake them when the husband and father is removed by death. Individual life is fearfully unoertain, but the science of Life Assurance has carefully calculated the chances, and can safely assume the risks. Insured in a successful and prudently-managed company, no man need fret away his life in anxiety for the future of his family. Neva York Expreu. The Jail of Richland District Broken into by the military authorities. Un civil Law Still in Force ? A collision occurred between the military and civil authorities of Columbia yesterday, of wbioh the following are the faots as narrated to us: Some time ago a bail writ was issued against a man named Henry Bulrieh, oitizen, at the suit of Joseph Fry, for a debt contracted in Charleston. He was held to bail and Mr S. El. Trevett became his surety on a bail bond. Day before yesterday Bulrieh enlisted in the United States army, and was surrendered by his surety to the Sheriff. Unable to pay the debt or give further security, he was committed to jail. Major Walker of the 5th TTnitaH flagaifg demanded the release or TBe prieoaer. Jir. vent, tbe Sheriff inquired if be bad a writ- . ten order. The reply was "do I" but be bad a verbal one. The Sheriff then said 'bring me a written order from the commandant of the post and I will consider it." Yesterday morning the order was produced The Sheriff asked for thirty minutes to confer with bis legal adviser, then in tbe Legislature. Tbe bearer of tbe message replied, "no, not a minute." "Then," answered the Sheriff, "you must take him yourself?I will not deliver him." Whereupon the officer proceeded to tbe jail. The keys were demanded of the Chief of Police, who refused to deliver them. The officer laid his band rudely on the Chief, feeling his pockets for tbe keys, and not being able to find them, proceeded to break down tbo door of the apartment in whioh tbe prisoner ** * a t L!? J L.J L.V was connneo, released aim aua marouuu utui off- Saoh briefly are the alleged circumstances. The right of the military authorities to the person of the soldier is a question for lawyers to decide, bat the right of any body to break the doors of a jail and forcibly remove from the oustody of the civil law the person confined, although it may have been Gen. Grant himself, is one conferred only by the bayonet and the strong arm whioh thus far seems to ignore the writ of habeas corpus and the most sacred safe guards of society?Carolinian, 12th. Southern Feeling as to Northern Dead.?General George W. Morgan, a Union soldier and Democratic candidate for Congress, from the State of New York, recently made the following statement in a speech : * * * i?The people of the South have extended to the people of the West and North the hand of reconciliation. To sustain what I say, I oould narrate many facts, but will mention but one. In order to seoure a suitable cemetery for our gallant soldiers who fell upon the plains of Alabama, the authorities of the United States desired to purchase three acres beautifully located within the limits of the city of Mobile. The tract was valuable, but the purpose was sacred to whioh it was to be dedicated. It was proposed to make three acres the hooored home of the Union dead, and there, within the oorporate limits of Mobile, to ereot a monument to commemorate their deeds. Bat the authorities of Mobile refused to sell. What! refuse to sell sufficient ground to oootaia the bones of our absent ones?our fathers, brothers, sons 7 Yes, my countrymen, these Southern men did refuse to sell sufficient ground on which to bury our heroio dead? but with that magnanimity, only equalled by their courage, those Southern men did, by free gift convey those three acres to the linked States. And the hand of the Mayor of Mobile; the hand whioh signed that deed of gift, had, during our unhappy war, wielded the sword of a Confederate Gener al." (Great applause.) jgy The Fort Wayne Democrat tells of a woman in Allen county, who plows, fishes ; sings and nurses all at once. She has a bell attaohed to the fishing pole that gives notice when there is a "bite;" she suspends her twin babies in a tree, and drives the plow around the field to the tune of I "Old Hundred." That's the kind of a wife to have.