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r lewis m. grist, Proprietor.J Jnbcjpbcat Jfamilg fUfospaptr: Jfor % |jroiitofiott of f|t political, Social, ^gtiailfatral aitb Commercial ^nftrtsfs of f|t Sonfji. TERMS?$3.00 A TEAR, IN ADVANCE. "VOL. 18. YOBKYILLE, S. C., THURSDAY, ATJGIJST 15, 1878. ~ JSTQ. 33. Jttt Original frisc Jfowg. Written for the Yorkville Enquirer. AN HEIRESS IN HER OWN RIGHT. m bvE^7^,EO. W CHAPTER XXV. W A SUMMING UP. WHO WAS THE "HEIRESS." * "Experience joined to common sense, To mortals is a providence."?^green. "And so, without more circumstance at all, I hold it fit, that we shake hands and part." sha.kspeare. The years have rolled on from the time when marrying and giving in marriage was the burden of the story, till the winter of 1870-71. This interval has given all an opportunity to show what was in them, and how their tempers and energies have been developed since entering on that new act in the drama of life, which makes or mars the destinies of all who take upon them its complicated duties. There are no tragedies, no marvelous exploits to record of our characters. The simple ^ annals of every day life, such as are common to many people, have written their story on the pages of time and a few leaves are all we shall transcribe. Mr. Elliott tried planting on a large scale the third year, but bad luck attended him and he became so involved and troubled on account of it, he resolved to take his brother's and wife's advice, and not attempt so much again till labor was more reliable. It took so much of his estate to settle with his creditors, he was almost in despair until he j began to realize the ditterence between Demg a free man and harassed by debts and duns. For two years he had been working with a few hands and kept from falling behind, if he could not gain a firm foothold ahead. Mrs. Elliott was much happier than while her husband was struggling so desperately, only to sink the deeper. When she had the control of ordering supplies, they never ex? ceeded reasonable limits; but when Mr. Elliott went for them himself, his desires were so much beyond his means, he bought dozens of unnecessary articles and was needlessly extravagant. He could not learn two things. One was to wait on himself; the other, to draw the line between his imaginary and real wants. But for Mrs. Elliott's influence he would have fallen into that miserable habit of running in debt fifteen dollars here, twenty-five there, and fifty somewhere else; a habit which has a demoralizing effect on the one who follows it?a damaging one on the person who submits to it Not that Mr. Elliott would have intended to leave these debts unpaid; but when he could not make enough to more than get along even without them, they would have hung on, an eye-sore by their accumulation, and the duns to follow and the pay-day so hard to find. Stuart had been off to school over two years; and with the foundation Mr. Ellison had laid, gives promise of fine scholarship. He proposes becoming a teacher, and the prospect of his being a learned professor is much greater than would be supposed, if the assertion Russell once made was not taken with a little allowance, that "no Elliott could make a 8avan." Russell had been doing well ever since he went to New Orleans; and was keeping nis heart warm by educating Stuart. Georgia is as amiable and cheerful as ever. She thinks her five children are no more trouble than three were ; and should she have ten, she would take it as a good thing for them, because they would learn to be so kind and obliging to each other, so thoughtful for the others' interests, they would have no chance to be spoiled and selfish like an only child. Eugene's business has continued to increase, but fortune cannot spoil him; and he rejoices more than any one else, that his brother Louis has married and is happy in a wife and child to heir his share of their large property. Aunt Pauline is a queen now among Georgia's children, and it is not easy to say if their mother loves them better than she does. Mr. Wright has prospered beyond any of his neighbors; but if you ask his wife why he ! wears such a rusty coat, she will reply some- i thing like this: "I don't wonder you notice the shabby old thing! It vexes me every Sunday when he puts it on. Mr. Wright has had the money to buy a new coat for three j winters, but he always fiuds a book store nearer than a tailoring establishment, if it is three miles out of his way, and into it he goes, just to look at the list of new books?he can't buy any this timebut when he comes out the money for his coat is gone, and his nose is so deep in one of the books he has bought he wouldn't see his own mother if she was to walk beside him an hour. I'm going to Charleston myself next time, just to buy him a decent suit, for I've come to the conclusion back as well as brains must be clothed with some regard to elegance." While Mrs. Wright would be saying that, her husband, with a smile, would be peering among the books in his library, and finding some favorite, would hold it out exultingly and say for his defense? "There! that is one of the books I bought this fall, and you'll say when you read it, that it alone, is worth any new coat iu the city. My coat is not so very shabby?only a little rustv: and if I don't begin buying a few books now and then, I'll never have a library for my children." The readings, every night, are one of the unbroken habits Mr. Wright still keeps up ; and when Henry becomes a great lecturer and public reader, he will give the credit of his success to those hours when he was so thoroughly drilled at his father's fireside. Albert will be a farmer and like his father in bis tastes. Julia has just married a sturdy mountaineer, who wonders any one can live in the 'malarious low-countryand she can now have a chance to wear out shoes on the rocks vithout going out of her own door yard. Mr. Ellison is as happy as if he had never "loved and lo3tindeed, it may be he and Ellen are happier for it, there is such a tenderness and gentle care in his affections; and she in return gives the first, last, whole love of her warm, joyous heart. She seems to love her two children through him and not him through them, like many wives. The services in the chapel are kept up regularly, and so well does Mr. Wright like them, he makes no effort to have a minister of his own denomination sent to that neighborhood. "The Baptists take all who do not attend Mr. Ellison's { meetings; why should he apply for a Methodist preacher when there would be so few to hear and still fewer to support him," is his excuse. Mr. Ellison met with loss instead of the success he expected in increasing his income, for a heavy security debt fell on his shoulders and swept away a great share of his property. Ellen says it was a great thing, for it roused J Mr. Ellison from his books to more hours of i healthful exercise in his garden; and his veg-; etflhlpq wit.li hpr nnnlf.rv and epps. have found v~?>w) ...... I J OO ' a ready sale and been a source of income since the railroad was completed. Yes,selling vegetables, poultry, eggs, honey, j dried figs, and the like, has been quite a source of profit to several of our friends; and not one but laughs at Conway's astonishment at the wonderful power they have found in the judicious use of "small things." Conway has come on for the second visit she has made since her marriage, and we will take a look at her as she sits in a low rocker in the stove room, where she is watching Grace prepare a dessert for dinner. Her little Elliott, only a few months old, lies sleeping on her lap ; while Georgia Conway, a lively little prattler of two years, is in the parlor with Mr. Van Vechteu, Jack and his Archie, who has more life and fun than his wide-awake father was ever said to have had. He could make more noise, find more mischief, and keep the house more lively in an hour than most children in a whole day. "There never was such a boy," Jack says, proudly, as he follows the restless child, and to keep him from being in the way of his iMrttVian faddoq Viim ftBpr hia hpjul and f?ives UIVVUV1) WVkAJW ?<*U4 v ? v? ><M? mvmm D~ him a royal ride on his shoulders. "You think so ; but wait and see whose son makes the finest man," and Conway gazes ' fondly at her "little precious." Jack laughs, gives his shouting boy a higher toss, and thinks he knows who will have the smartest man, if he don't say it. There is to be a family dinner, and Grace is busy as a bee getting everything ready before the Elliott and Ellison carriages arrive with their loads of welcome guests. Conway came down the night before, but she had seen too little of Grace to leave her, if the extra preparations do keep her sitting two hours in that neat, clean apartment, where Grace has a cooking-stove for her express accommodation. Maum Elsie still cooks in the old fashioned way, with frying pans and ovens in a fire-place, but Grace has a fine stove, which she finds one of the most useful things about her house. Grace has gained life and animation since her marriage; Conway softness. Neither have lost a grace or charm. Conway listens in amazement to the different things Grace has done during the year. Jack made pretty good crops and managed well, but the wants of a family are never ending, and his wife has learned that a dollar ? ? " * "~TJrt WTmi f mAiiI'O nn uever uijiucs amiss. lun it iigiii nuinowu the principle that "a penny saved is a penny earned," but Grace can't learn that easily ; early training will show itself, and she can make money easier than she can keep it. "Do you or Jack support this family," said Conway, half laughingly, half in earnest, after hearing sundry accounts of what she had accomplished. "Why Jack, to be sure," replied Grace, almost indignantly. "It don't look so," returned Conway. "When I was here nearly two years ago, it was 'Jack made two barrels of sugar last year, and will make twice as much this;' 'Jack raised corn enough to last till corn comes again.' 'Jack hopes cotton will do well this year so he can build another bed-room, and a large room for ray cooking stove.' 'Jack is going to give more attention to improving his stock;' and it was Jack this, and Jack that, all the time." "Well, don't I tell you about Jack now ? I am sure he is of more importance in my eyes now than then. I can say truly, 'I thought I loved him years ago, I know I love him now.'" (<Cl ttoq fxrnop von orive .Tack credit for all w J ^? e> he deserves, and delight in giving him honor; but in the midst of what Jack has done, comes in, 'and I have helped him buy a new rockaway with the forty turkeys I sold last winter.' '1 have over a hundred chickens and uearly sixty turkeys to send to town at Christmas.' I sold eggs enough to buy all my summer clothes?" "O 8top, Conway! That don't make me support the family, because I have a little spending money of my own!" "It is a great help, I can assure you," cried Jack, who had come in to get a baked potato for Archie, and was peeling it for the impatient child. "Have you told her of your wine and figs?" "What! there's something else you've done and you haven't told me." "You haven't been here long enough to learn half my affairs. You found out about the poultry because you went with me at feeding time." "Well, I must hear of everything. Mother told me you rivaled Ellen in housekeeping and managing affairs, and you must tell me all you do." "You laugh at me, and think I'm in a little business, but n your nusDanu was a poor iimu j and you wished him to get along comfortably ! without running in debt, you would find these things you make so light of, are no trifles." "I don't make light of them. I'm only amused that you take it so in earnest and think I can't appreciate it. Why, if Mr. Van ; Vechten was to lose his property, I'd do a | hundred things to help him. I don't hold ! half the high notions of this and that's being I degrading that I did when the war first ended." ; "Or, just before," said Jack, with a sly j j touch of his lips. "O, I know what you mean and don't care I for it at all. I've been proof against such | shafts ever since I accepted Robert. If I I could marry a northerner, its absurd to think I'd care, because one, and my husband's cousin, too, once kissed my sister's hand. How I did flare up about it at the time, though! It was ridiculous!" "You didn't think so then, nor for sometime afterwards." "No, I did not; but don't you see, Jack, I'm a different woman now. I know better what life is, and its duties. I judge people more by their minds and acts than their external fortune. And I do not condemn strongly what I do not understand, merely because it rubs my prejudices. "You grow more like mother than I used to think possible," said Grace. "I am a mother myself now, and I feel such a weight of responsibility, it is a relief to have such a mother to follow. Two children to train for this world and the next, is ! enough to make me try to think and live ! right." "I can understand vou now," said Grace,: j picking up and kissiug her own boy, who had fallen asleep with his potato only half eaten, j It was some time before the conversation 1 went back to the point from which it had j wandered; but at last Conway recalled it, and asked Grace "what it was about her wine and figs, she was going to tell." "You recollect how well Jack's vines and fig-bushes were growing when yon were here before ? Well, you wouldn't know them now, ? - XTT 1 _ 1 __ 1 they have grown so last, we naa pienty ui grapes and figs last year for our own use, but this summer we hardly know what to do with so many. As the papers are constantly advising people to save more fruit and supply home demands, I concluded it was a pity to let ours waste, and preserved and dried quantities. We had plenty of sugar, thanks to Jack's taking Mr. Wright's advice, and beginning to plant cane the first year he went to farming." "He took Mr. Wright's advice on nearly every thing that year, I believe ?" "Yes; and it proved just the kind he needed. Well, having plenty of sugar, and this nice room, I dried my figs just as nicely as any I ever saw that were imported, and they brought a good price, too. I'll show you some I saved for our own use, as soon as I finish beating these eggs. Our grapes I made into jelly and wine; but I shan't make much wine, if we have ten times as many grapes. Jelly is more healthful and can't make drunkards." "You are just as strong on the subject of temperance as ever, I see ; but I don't blame you, since I find how many men are becoming topers. If I thought ray son"?and she clasped her infant close to her bosom?"would ever be a drunkard, it would break my heart. But I do not fear, with the example Robert sets, for he never takes liquor." "I know you are glad of it. When I was in Charleston in the fall, uncle Willis told me of a great many of our former friends who had come to real poverty and want, more from liquor-drinking than because they could not obtain employment. You don't know how much better we have done than any of the other relatives, except uncle Willis." "I think I understand it, and it all comes from having such a blessed mother. Had she been a silly, weak, or bad-tempered woman we should have been so too and father would have been lost years ago, while now his superior can hardly be found." "Praising your father, are you ?" said Jack, coming in again. "Well, he says mine was one of the best business men in the State; but I've always had more love for mother's memory, which, perhaps, is only natural. The carriages are coming, and will be at the gate in two minutes." "And I am done with my work." And Grace hung up the long apron which had protected her dress, rolled down her sleeves, and was ready to greet her mother the instant she stepped from the carriage. "Years have dealt lightly with Mrs. Elliott. She is still a lovely woman, with that beautiful serenity which Christianity gives an intellectual face. Mr. Elliott has slightly bent, and his hair is white; but he has ceased to deplore and grieve over the dead past, and can enjoy the present undisturbed by political questions, unless roused by some rabid ranter, who needlessly agitates his general indifference. Alice is still an innocent, artless girl, the very light of her father's eyes, and an exceeding joy to her mother. She bids fair to rival Grace in gentleness and sweetness, and Georgia in happy cheerfulness. Poor Arthur! His face has not gained in expression. Daily drinking, constant smoking and indolent habits, have set their seal on him, and if he does not die before the years which ought to be the prime of life, he will be another "Cousin Tim." Tim, poor fellow, could not be contented in any place, after his sister's death, and in a few months he, too, sank into a slow decline, which ended by his being laid beside Letitia in that quiet sleep which feels no lonely discontent. Mr. Ellison bears his years as well as Mrs. Elliott, and escorts his family to the door with a step which was never more firm and strong. The children, as usual, receive the first attention, and all vie with each other in making the day a glad, happy one. At three o'clock the dinner was served, and ample justice was done and hearty praise given to Grace's well-cooked and nicely-arranged viands. There was a little laugh over Conway's distinguishing some things as belonging to Jack, and others as coming from Grace, which helped add to the enjoyment of the savory meal. The conversation was animated and interesting. "What carried your father off to Charleston again this week, when he had just come from there ?" asked Mr. Elliott of Ellen, as the dessert was coming on. "0, you would never guess; and yet it was ! so characteristic it won't sound at all strange. I Among the books he bought last week was Whittier's 'Tent on the Beech,' which is a! number of fine poems strung like pearls on a silver cord of beautiful narrative in verse ; and he was so perfectly entranced with it, nothing would do but he must take Henry and go i down on one of the islands to enjoy it." How much like him that is," said Grace. "lej; and his entnusiasra over nis success fairly carried us away, when he was relating it last night. Mr. Ellison and I went over as | soon as he returned, and he was still in a per- j feet glow. The morning he went on the beech j was so mild and lovely they could appreciate all the warm, summer poems, and then to his great joy the wiud came up chill and raw, the ' sky became overcast, and the waves rolled in j | with that sullen moan that precedes a storm, i He and Henry then rambled off to the most desolate place they could 6nd, and together ; read and re-read that gem on the Atlantic; j Cable, which begins? 'O, lonely Bay of Trinity! O, dreary snores, give ear! Lean down unto the white-lipped sea, The voice of God to hear. From shore to shore His couriers fly, Thought-winged and shod with tire; The lightnings of His stormy sky Ride down the sunken wire.' "Henry was just as much enchanted as his father, and wrote some fine lines on his way from the island to the city," said Mr. Ellison, which commemorates the occasion very neatly." "He says father drilled him on some verses, till it is not his fault if every tone and cadence does not bring out the beauties of the poem." "I think Conway and I must hear him read it, said Mr. Van Vechten. "We attended some excellent readings not long ago, and selections from the 'Tent on the Beech' were read beautifully." "Yes. and vou thought that poem from which Ellen quoted the gem of the evening, while I was most pleased with the 'Maids of Attitash." "Good people," said Arthur, "Our pudding is growing cold, while you forget eating for a lot of fol-de-rol poetry. I wouldn't give one box of good Havanas for all the poetry in the State." "We appreciate your taste as little as you do ours," said Jack drily. "Try these figs, Conway, if you've finished your pie. Here, father, this is butter sauce? you always like ray butter so well I know you'll think its excellent;" and by offering one thing and another, Grace turned the conversation. "Where has that Burns gone?" asked Mr. Elliott; "I wish I could have him a year to attend to my cows. I never could have believed his way of milking and feeding was such a good one if you had not proved it long ago." "He aimed for Texas when he left me, but may be in Oregon now. He says he never can stay over two years in a place. He has o wnnrWincr rnvinor nature." ** " ??e, --?B "Has mother told you, Grace, that she expects Mr. and Mrs. Henry next month," enquired Conway. "Yes; and I am glad they are coming. I formed a great friendship for him when he was here, and you say his wife is a fine woman." "Yes; she is certainly a very superior lady, and you will all be pleased with her. I tell Robert he is favored in having her for an aunt." "There don't seem to be many 'black sheep' among our relatives on either side, so far as I know," said Mr. Van Vechten. Mr. Henry will find some changes since he was here," said Mr. Elliott; "we dont' have every thing so free and bountiful as when he came before. If it was war time then, we did not lack any thing money could buy, and now we dont have the money when things are plentiful." "He knows all that. It won't make any difference in his respect and friendship, unless to increase it," said Mr. Van Vechten. "I wonder whom he will call 'An Heiress' now?" said Grace, and her eyes rested on Conway and Ellen, as if the choice lay between them. Mr. Van Vechten took Conway's hand with a happy smile; Mr. Ellison slipped his arm around Ellen's waist; and Jack, understanding their meaning, went round to Grace and placed a kiss on her forehead. "If kisses are crowns, here is where mine ^ i _1 1 should restand Urace ran ana pressea ner lips to her mother's fair brow. "You are both more richly endowed than all the queens of earth;" and Mr. Elliott clasped wife and daughter in a close embrace. the end. [Copies of the Enquires containing the previous chapters of this Story can be furnished to new subscribers.] Ipsttlfctttw THE PRESIDENTIAL CONTEST. Letter from Speaker Blaine to Chas. Sumner. Augusta, Me., July 31,1872. Hon. Charles Sumner, United States Senator: Dear Sir :?Your letter published in the papers of this morning will create profound pain and regret among your former political friends throughout New England. Your power to injure General Grant was exhausted in vmir remarkable sneech in the Senate. Your J ~- X- " ? power to injure yourself was not fully exerci8ed until you announced an open alliance with the Southern Secessionists in their efforts to destroy the Republican party of the nation. I have but recently read with much interest the circumstantial and minute account given by you, in the fourth volume of your works, of the manner in which you were struck down in the Senate chamber, in 1856, for defending the rights of the negro. The Democratic party throughout the South, and according to your own showing, to some extent in the North, also, approved that assault upon you. Mr. Toombs, of Georgia, openly announces his approval of it iu the Senate, and Jefferson Davis, four months after its occurrence, wrote a letter to South Carolina in fulsome eulogy of Brooks for so nearly having taken your life. It is safe to say that every man in the South who rejoiced over the attempt to murder you was afterward found in the rebel conspiracy to murder the nation. It is still safer to say that every one of them who survives is to-day your fellow-laborer in support of Horace Greeley. In 1856 he would indeed have been a rash prophet who predicted your fast alliance sixteen years after with Messrs. Toombs and Davis in their efforts to reinstate their own party in power. In all the startling mutations of American politics, nothing so marvelous has ever occurred as the fellowship of Robert Toombs, Jefferson Davis, and Charles Sumner in a joint effort to drive the Republican party from power and hand over the Government to the practical control of those who so recently sought to destroy it. It is of no avail for you to take refuge behind the Republican record of Horace Greeley. Conceding, for the sake of argument (as I do not in fact believe,) that Horace Greeley would remain firm in his Republican principles, he would be powerless against the Congress that would come into power with him in the event of his election. We have had a recent and striking illustration in the case of Andrew Johnson, of the inability of the President to enfore a policy, or even a measure, against the will of Congress. What more power would there be in Horace Greeley to enforce a Republican policy against a Democratic Congress than there was in Andrew Johnson to enforce a Democratic policy against a Republican Congress ? And, besides, Horace Greeley has already, in his letter of accept ance, taken grouna practically against me Republican doctrine so often enforced by yourself, of the duty of the National Government to secure the rights of every citizen to protection of life, person and property. In Mr. Greeley's letter accepting the Cincinnati nomination, he pleases every ku-klux villain in the South by repeating the Demoratic cant about "local self-government," and inveighing in good rebel parlance against, "centralization," and finally declaring that "there shall be no Federal subversion of the internal policy of the several States and municipalities, but that each shall be left free to enforce the rights and promote the well being of its in habitants by such means as the judgment of its people shall prescribe." The meaning of all this in plain English is, that no matter how the colored citizens of the South may be abused, wronged, and oppressed, | Congress shall not interfere for their protec1 tion, but leave them to the tender mercies of the "local self-government" administered by the white rebels. Do you, as a friend to the colored man, approve this position of Mr. Greeley ? You cannot forget, Mr. Sumner, how often during the late session of Congress you conferred with me in regard to the possibility of having your civil rights bill passed by the House. It was introduced by your personal friend, Mr. Hooper, and nothing prevented its passage by the House except the rancorous and factious hostility of the Democratic mem : bers. If 1 have correctly examinea tne uiooe, the Democratic members on seventeen different occasions resisted the passage of the civil righ ts bill by the parliamentary process known as filibustering. They would not even allow it to come to a vote. Two intelligent colored members from South Carolina, Elliott and Rainey, begged of the Democratic side of the House to merely allow the civil rights bill to be voted on, nod they were answered with a denial so absolute that it amounted to a scornful jeer of the rights of the colored man. And now you lend your voice and influence to the reelection of these Democratic members who are cooperating with you in the support of Mr. Greeley. Do you not know, Mr. Sumner, and will you not as a candid man acknowledge, that with these men in power in Congress, the rights of the colored men are absolutely sacrificed so far as those rights depend on Federal legislation ? Still further. The rights of the colored men in this country are secured, if secured at all, by the three great constitutional amendments, the thirteenth, fourteenth, and fifteenth. To give these amendments full scope and effect, legislation by Congress is imperatively required, as you have so often and so eloquently demonstrated. But the Democratic party are on record in the most conspicuous manner against any legislation on the subject. It was only in I mnnfk rtf Fohnmrv last that mv colleague. l/UG uiuuiru * ..... . J a , Mr. Peters, offered a resolution in the House of Representatives affirming "the validity of the constitutional amendments and of such reasonable legislation of Congress as may be necessary to make them in their letter and spirit most effectual." This resolution, very mild and guarded as you will see, was adopted by 124 yeas to 58 nays ; only 8 of the yeas were Democrats ; all the nays were Democrats. The resolution of Mr. Peters was followed a week later, by one offered by Mr. Stevenson, of Ohio, as follows : | Resolved, That we recognize as valid and I binding all existing laws passed by Congress for the enforcement of the thirteenth, fourteenth and fifteenth amendments of the Constitution of the Untted States, and for the protection of citizens in their rights under the ' constitution as amended. On the vote upon this resolution there were 107 yeas to 65 nays. All the yeas were Republicans, and they are now unanimous in support of President Grant. All the nays were Democrats, who are now equally unanimous in support of Mr. Greeley. It is idle to affirm, as some Democrats did in a resolution offered by Mr. Brooks, of New York, that "these amendments are valid parts of the constitution," bo long as the same men on the same day vote that the provisions of those amendments should not be enforced by Pnnm-oanAnal lpwrnlntinn. The amendments are but "sounding brass and tinkling cymbals" to the colored man until Congress makes them effective and practical. Nay, more; if the rights of the colored man are to be left to the legislation of the Southern States, without Congressional intervention, he would under a Democratic administration be deprived of the right of suffrage in less than two years, and he would be very lucky if he escaped some form of chattel slavery or peonage. And in proof of this danger I might quote volumes of wisdom and warning from the speeches of Charles Sumner. When, therefore, you point out to the colored men that their rights will be safe in the hands of the Democratic party, you delude and mislead them?I do not say wilfully, but none the less really. The small handful of Republicans?compared with the whole mass, who unite with yourself and Mr. Greeley in going over to the Democratic party, cannot leaven that lump of political unsoundness even if you preserve your own original principles in the contact. The administration of Mr. Greeley, therefore, should he be elected, would be in the whole and in detail a Democratic administration, and you would be compelled to go with the current, or repent and 1' 1 X l-x- X A XL? ??;l ttmi turn uaca. wueu wu iukj iu mcuu wo cm juu bad done. Your argument that Horace Greeley does not become a Democrat by receiving Democratic votes?illustrating it by the analogy of your own election to the Senate?is hardly pertinent. The point is not what Mr. Greeley will become personally, but what will be the complexion of the great legislative branch of the government, with all its vast controlling power? You know very well, Mr. Sumner, that if Mr. Greeley is elected President, Congress is handed over to the control of the party who have persistently denied the rights of the black man. What course you will pursue toward the colored man is of small consequence after you have transferred the power of government to his enemy. The colored men of this country are not, as a class, enlightened; but they have wonderful instincts, and when they read your letter they will know that at a great crisis in their fate you deserted them. Charles Sumner cooperating with Jefferson Davis is not the same Charles Sumner they have hitherto idolized? j any more than Horace Greeley, cheered to the ' echo in Tammany Hall, is the same Horace j Greeley whom the Republicans have hitherto i trusted. The black men of this country will I tTAtl V> n Ttft I never ue uugruieiiii iui wnat juu u?<e for thera in the past?nor, in the bitterness of their hearts, will they ever forget that, heated and blinded by personal hatred of one man, you turned your back on the millions to whom in past years you have stood as a shield and bulwark of defense! Very respectfully, your obd't servant, JAMES G. BLAINE. Senator Sumner's Reply to Speaker Blaine. Washington, August 5th, 1872.?Dear Sir:?I have seen the letter addressed to me by you, through the public prints, and I notice especially that while animadverting upon my support of Horace Greeley, you say not one word in vindication of that compound of pretensions known as Grantism, in contradisI ~Onniiklmaniom urV\i/?ti Vflll WOllld in- I t HUH IU J.vcpuujivauiDUjj viMtvM j ? j stall anew in the Government. You are j greatly concerned about the company I keep. I To quiet your solicitude, I beg leave to say ; that in joining the Republicans, who brought j forward an original Abolitionist, I find myself j with so many others devoted to the cause I have served always, that I had not missed you, until you hastened to report absence; nor bad I taken account of the Southern secessionists, who, as you aver, are now cooperating with me in support of this original Abolitionist, except to rejoice that, if among former associates some, like yourself, hesitate, their j places are supplied in an unexpected quarter. You entirely misunderstand me wnen you I introduce an incident of the past and build on it an argument why I should not support Horace Greeley. What has Preston Brooks ! to do with the Presidential election? Never, while a sufferer, did anybody hear me speak of him in nnkindness; and now, after the lapse of more than half a generation, I will not unite with you in dragging him from the grave, where he sleeps, to aggravate the passions of a political conflict, and arrest the longing for concord. And here is the essential difference between you and me, at this juncture. I seize the opportunity to make the equal rights of all secure, through peace and reconciliation; but this infinite boon you would postpone. Seven years have passed since we laid aside our arms; but unhappily, during all this period, there has been a hostile spirit toward each other, while the rights of my colored fellow-citizens have been in perpetual question. Seven years mark a material period of human life. Should not the spirit be changed with the body ? Can we not, after seven years, commence a new life, especially when those once our foes repeat the saying, "Thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God?" i aecjart} niy preiensiice turau uugiuai uwn tionist as President, and you seek to create a diversion by crying out that Democrats will support him; to which I reply, so much the better. Their support is the assurance that the cause he has so constantly guarded, whether of equal rights or reconciliation, is accepted by Democrats; and this is the pledge of a true union, beyond anything in our history. It is a victory of ideas, without which all other victories must fail. To intensify your allegations, you insist that I am ranged with Jefferson Davis and Robert Toombs; but, pardon me; nobody knows how the former will vote, while Robert Toombs is boisterous against Horace Greeley; and with him are Stephens, Wise and Mosby. This is all very poor, and I mention it only to exhibit the character of your attempt In the same spirit, you seek to avoid the real issue, by holding up the possibility of what you call a Democratic administration, and you have the courage to assert, as within my knowledge, that by the election of Horace Greeley, Congress is handed over to the control of the party who have positively denied the rights of the black men. You say that I know this. Mr. Speaker, I know no such thing, and you should be sufficiently thought Jul Dot to assert il I am entirely satisfied tbat a canvass like the present, where the principles declared at Cincinnati are openly accepted on one side and not contested on the other, must result in a larger number of Congressional representatives sincerely devoted to the rights of the colored citizen than ever before. The Democrats will be pledged, as never before, to the ruling principle?that all men are equal before the law?and also to the three constitutional amendments, with the clause in each empowering Congress to enforce the same by appropriate legislation. But, besides Democrats, there will be Liberal Republicans pledged likewise, and also your peculiar associates, who, I trust, will not betray the cause. Senators and Representatives calling themselves Republicans have been latterly in a large majority in both Houses, but the final measure of civil rights, to which you refer, though urged by me almost daily, has failed to become a law; less, I fear, from Democratic opposition than Republican lukewarmness and the want of support in the President The great issue which the people are called to decide in November is on the President, and nobody knows better than yourself that the House of Representatives, chosen at the same time, will naturally harmonize with him. So it has been in our history. Now, harmony with Horace Greeley involves what I most desire. With such a President, Congress will be changed. For the first time since the war, the equal rights of all will have a declared representative at the head of the Government, whose presence there will * * % At ll.A be ot mgner signincance man mat ui auy victor in war; being not only a testimony, but a constant motive power in this great cause. Opposition, whether open hostility or more subtle treachery, will yield to the steady influence of such a representative. Therefore, in looking to the President, I look also to Congress; which will take its character in a large measure from him. In choosing Horace Greeley, we do the best we can for the whole Government; not only in the executive, but in the legislative branch; while we decline to support nepotism, repayment of personal gifts by official patronage, seizure of the war powers, and indignity to the black republic; also, the various incapacities exhibited by the President, and the rings by which he governs; none of which can you defend. You know well that the rings are already condemned by the American people. For myself, I say plainly, and without hesitation, that I prefer Horace Greeley with any Congress possible, on the Cincinnati Dlatform. to President Grant, with his pretensions and his rings, a vote for whom involves the support of all his pretensions, with prolonged power in all the rings. There must be another influence and another example. The Administration, in all its parts, is impressed by the President. Let bis soul be enlarged with the sentiment of justice, and quickened by industry; and not only the two Houses of Congress, but the whole country, will feel the irresistible authority overspreading, pervading and permeating everywhere. Therefore, in proportion as you are in earnest for the rights of the colored citizen, and place them above partisan triumph, you will be glad to support the candidate whose heart has always tnrobbed for humanity. The country needs such a motive power at the White House. It needs a generous fountain there. In one word, it needs somebody different from the present incumbent; and nobody knows this better than Speaker Blaine. ine personal impuuuiuu _yuu iua&c u^u me, I repel with the indignation of an honest heart I was a faithful supporter of the President until somewhat tardily awakened, by his conduct on the island of St Domingo, involving the seizure of the war power, in violation of the Constitution, and indignity to the black republic, in violation of international law; and when I remonstrated against these intolerable outrages, I was set upon by those acting in his behalf. Such is the origin of my opposition. I could not have done less, without failure in that duty which is, with me, the rule of life; nor can I doubt that, when partisan sentiments are less active, you will regret the wrong you have done me. Meanwhile, I appeal confidently to the candid judgment of those who, amidst all present differences of opinion, unite in the great object, far above party or President, to which my life is devoted. I am, sir, your obedient servant, (Signed,) CHARLES SUMNER. To Honorable Speaker Blaine. ^^.4 A Novel Savings Bank.?In the northeastern part of Siberia the inhabitants live chiefly upon salmon, which enter the streams in summer to spawn; then the natives take immense quantities of the fish, dry them, and lay by a supply for the next season. About every third or fourth year, on the average? though with considerable irregularity?the salmon do not appear, and the consequence is a famine, which, falling first upon the dogteams of the people, disables the latter from drawing supplies from other quarters. To prevent the terrible sufferings which have arisen from this cause, the Russian government established at Kolyma, a post on the Arctic ocean, a sort of savings bank with a capital of one hundred thousand dried fish, purchased from the natives and stored away; tt)6n ft IftW W88 CliftCUJU UUIll^CIIlug ctqi jr uiaio inhabitant of the settlement to pay into the bank annually one-tenth of all toe fish he caught, and no excuse for a failure was admitted?this continuing as long as the fish season remained good; but when there was a failure of the salmon, and starvation impended, every depositor was entitled to borrow from the bank enough for his regular supplies, on condition of a repayment next year. At the last advices this bank had carried the people through two consecutive years of famine, and accumulated a capital of three hundred thousand dried fish, and was still accumulating at the rate of twenty thousand a T* ?? nn +ViQ mnrl tn wealth, be year# jli> woo wuo vu ?mv w .. ?, ? sides proving such a fbuntain of beneficence to the people. It is the principle of Joseph's management in Egypt, with ail the modern improvements required by the state of society in Siberia.?Alaska Herald. From the Fairfield Kewa. LETTER FROM JUDGE THOMAS.' Yobkville, S. C., July 30,1872. Mr. Editor: In your note of the 27th ult, you ask me if I favor the liberal movement, and if I will be a candidate for Congress. In 1868, believing that the late freed men were men, I conscientiously supported their right to suffrage, and with it Gen. Grant for President Since then I have found that the most of the party who voted with me, instead of voting irom "high moral ideas," were devoted to the principles of "addition, division and silence," ana that their associations were no place for me. As one expressed it to another, "the Judge is a good Republican, but he don't act with the party." In 1872, I find that what I predicted in 1868 has come to pass?that the intelligence of the State has come up to the Republican platform. I never knew this people to knowingly do a mean, dishonest or deceitful act. They are under the leadership of men of "high and moral ideas"?Greeley and Brown. I therefore cast my lot with my people. Second. In 1868 the slogan was a "white man's government" I was opposed to it In 1872 it is practically a colored man's govern meat, and 1 am opposed to it. Third. In 1868 1 voted for a constitutional government as contra-distinguished from one "revolutionary, null and void." In 1872 I do the same as contra-distinguished, under my own personal observation, from a military despotism. Fourth. In 1868 I voted to accept the situation and join hands across the "bloody chasm." In 1872 I shall do the same. 1 will not change. Fifth. In 1868 I voted to avoid a war of races. With less confidence, but with the same view I shall vote in 1872 for the party of reconciliation. As to my being a candidate for Congress, it is a matter for the Congressional District I have never aspired to be a politician, but if I can do better and higher for my fellow citizens I am at their service. Very truly your ob't serv't, Wm. M. Thomas. THE BATTLE OF THE RATTLESNAKE, Mr. Frank Buckland writes as follows upon this subject: "Mr. Thomas Hughes, M. P., has been kind enough to give a very fine specimen of the rattle of a rattlesnake. It is two inches and a half long, and is composed of niriA ininta. This niece of mechanism is one of the moet wonderful in the animal world. It is composed of a horny material, very thin, and is almost as transparent as the sheets of gelatine in which bon-bons are wrapped. It is difficult to explain its ultimate structure in words. The rattle before me is formed of nine complete sections, fitted one into the other in a more ingenious way than any puzzle made by human hands, even those of the Chinese; they fit one into the other so that it is impossible to get them apart without breaking them. Number oue (say the lowest) passes right through a hollow in number two, and then bulges out, forming a kind of clip or projection, around which number three holds on firmly, not unlike the ball-socket joint. The rattle is rather more than half an inch across. The snake does not carry it with its broad side to the ground, but with one edge up and the other down ; when shaken with the human hand, the noise it makes is very like the noise 1 *' " ~-.il- I?J. ?L lU~ rrora & cdhq b i&iuo j uui? wucu buc oua?? plays upon his own instrument, its sound is quick and sharp, like shot when dropped on a tin plate. There can be no doubt but that this curious musical instrument, is given to the snake in order to enable him to get close to his prey. Imagine a blazing hot day on the desolate prairie, no noise, everything is silence itself. The whirr-whirr ofa rattlesnake's rattle would, under these circumstances, attract the notice of a bird or small animal, who could easily escape from his enemy by flight if he knew where his enemy was. He remains, however, still to listen to the unwonted noise, and gives the snake time to get up, glide noiselessly up to him, and strike him with his deadly fangs. Some time since an American gentleman happened to be talking with me at my museum, when I suddenly {flayed upon a rattlesnake's tail. My friend, a traveler, who knew the sound well, immediately jumped suddenly aside in great alarm, thinking that I might have a rattlesnake loose in the room. LIFE IN WALL STREET. A New York letter says : I met not long since two celebrated operators, viz: Leonard W. Jerome and John M. Tobin. The former * '1 ?' ?oM+ti andh oi tnese gentlemen, nuv imgucu ?.? splendor io the palmy greenback era, is now somewhat out of health, and is leading a very quiet life, rarely being seen in the stock mar* ket. His wealth, which was once counted bv the millions, is now considerably reduced. "How much is Jerome worth ?" inquired I, lately, of J. M. E., that well known though now retired stock operator of Boston antecedents. "Well, not much," was the reply, "about three-quarters of a million." This illustrates the Wall street idea of a fortune. A man who has a hundred thousand is generally spoken of as having "a little money;" a half millioner is said to be "pretty well off;" a millioner is called "well off;" while the possession of from fiye to ten millions gives a man the title of "rich," or perhaps "money king/' if he uses his money skillfully in "the street'' John M. Tobin was looking wan and worn; his opal eye not as lustrous as in those famous campaigns of 1863-64, when it blazed over the crowd like a meteor, as he snapped up million after million of gold and stocks. He, too, in the zenith of his power, was worth $4,800,000, made in less than three years from the time he entered the street, obscure and ?n/1 nnn Violf ft million 1T6 ^CUllUCOOj OUU IIUTI) niUli ??*? WW mmm maining out of his splendid fortune, he wanders about the street complaining of his poverty, and amusing himself with trifling flyers of five hundred share lots. These men are comparatively fortunate examples of the proverb, so often illastrated in Wall street, "It is a long road which has no turning." The possession of a million won across that great gaming table, the stock market, is more apt to turn the head and lead to loss and ruin. If Leonard W. Jerome and John M. Tobin have survived the shocks of chance and still possess a competency, a score of othere like Anthony W. Morse and W. H. Woodward see their millions melt into "thin air" and themselves stranded high upon the beach of speculation, without a wave to rock their hulls or a breeze to fau their sails.