Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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. ^ lewis m. grist, Proprietor. 5U Jf nbcjrcnbtitf Jfamiljr ftctospapcr: Jvr e ^romotioit of f|e political, Social, ^gricnltural anb Commercial Jjnimsts of l(jc Saotj}. ]TERMS?$3.00 A YEAR, IN ADVANCE. VOL. 21. YOBKYILLE, S. C., THURSDAY, JITLY 8, 1875. NO. 27. I . .!iL ?iviAnn ?rvllngfQ . jto ?tiginal Jdotg. \ Written for the Yorkville Enquirer. j jj ^ THE SEVEN SISTERS OF YORK.! sc CHAPTER VIII. Edna's love-affair, as Jeannette termed it, j * j progressed very smoothly. Hugh Thornton j a came every day to Brierlv Farm, and though h he had as yet spoken no definite words, his j manner was sufficiently love-like to leave no ^ doubt of his intentions. Edna was entirely y1 satisfied and happy ; she felt secure in their n' mutual affection, and was in no haste to ex- j change the romance of wooing and being wooed for the formality of a solemn compact.1 r( In these days her step was elastic as a girl's, h her cheeks and eyes bright with content, and si her voice had a joyous ring in it her sisters ; fi had never heard before. Hugh had spoken i c< truly, when he said she was more beautiful j tl now than when he had left her twelve years [ a ago. I ri She was impatient for her younger sisters to I E come home, that both of them, but especially fi G'laribel, might know and admire her hero. At Mrs. Curtis' solicitation they prolonged ; g their visit from a week to ten days. The good | lady had also sent for Dolly, but she, for rea-1 s< " sons of her own, preferred postponing her j si aceptance of the invitation until the others j should have returned home. Meantime Hen- | J ry Curtis was very devoted. The distance be- j d tween his home and hers did not deter him ; t< from seeking her presence every evening, and j Edna considerately allowed them to have the ! la exclusive use of the library, whenever it was ' w too cool for them to carry on their love-ma- j tl king out in the open air. It was already set- j C tied between them that their engagement was j oi not to be a long one, and some time late in | the autumn was spoken of for their marriage. I w "To-morrow Clarie will be at home," Edna I said at last, one afternoon, when Hugh had ; come for her to drive. "How glad I am ! I , h am longing for you to know each other, j oi Hugh." "I shall be glad to know her, of course; jn but I am not longing for any society but j c< yours." ; h "Oh!" she replied with a blush of pleasure,| a "that would become wearisome to you after a ' a while." sj "It will uever be wearisome to me, Edna." Ou the following afternoon he came over, (] and went, as usual, directly to the library, the glass doors of which, in summer, were nearly p always open. Here he was wont to find Edna, but it was a little earlier thau usual, and she w was not there. A young girl, however, stood j ^ by the table, arranging a dish of flowers. She a turned as he entered, and in her chiseled fea- n tu res and blonde complexion he recognized a charming counterpart of the miniature he had admired. "Claribel!" he said, smiling, as he came j e] forward. She returued the smile, as she ex-1 tended her hand. "Mr. Thornton, of course. I am so glad to Q meet you." I His eyes dwelt on her face, the loveliness ^ of which far exceeded his expectations. He ^ thought he had never seen more beautiful ' tj eyes, or a more winuing smile, and her voice, i as she welcomed him, was music itself. ' jj "I have heard so much of you, that I feel ; as though I already knew you quite well," he tj said. "Hence the liberty, which would oth- j erwise be an unpardonable one, of addressing ^ you as I did." i j "I do not at all consider it a liberty, from j jj. you," she rejoiued, "though I might resent it j t? in any one who had less claim on my friend- j j. ship. Sit down, Mr. Thornton, and I will go and let Edna know that you are here." | j "Stay a little longer, and let us become better acquainted with each other," he was on the point of saying, but in an instant she was gone, and he heard her light step ascending the stairs. Instead of taking the chair she had pushed toward him, he was walking j thoughtfully about when the door reopened, i and she again appeared. "Edna will be here in a few minutes. In gj the mean time she has delegated to me the . duty of entertaining you," she said, smilingly. "I am quite sure she could not have chosen . a better substitute. I only hope you won't J 11 find the duty an onerous one." 1 ? "Substitutes are unsatisfactory things at ^ best, however," said Claribel, archly. "They seldom come quite up to the original; don't a you think so?" j ? "In some cases they do not fall far short," j^( he rejoined. "At all events, Miss Claribel, I ? am not inclined to quarrel with ray fate in the ! present instance." [ "Thanks for the compliment; though I sup- ^ pose you felt in duty bound to pay it." j "Not at all; I am a man by no means r 6 t?Ar? t n r\o innr? OAmnlimonto Vaii?? oiofor ^i i tn iv lug b/Uiui vui oicb^i can tell you so." !. "Oh ! I shall not go to her for any opinion ls regarding you, Mr. Thornton." "Why not to her ?" "Because I think I can judge more impar- 1 s< tially for myself." 5 ' "I hope she would not tell you anything j a that was not good about me." | . "She has told me a good many things about you," said Claribel, "but I shall not gratify ! your curiosity by saying whether they were j good or not." j ? "I fancy I am safe in her hands," said Mr. ; Thornton, lightly. "She is too kind-hearted , c' to speak unfavorably of her friends." Then j n dismissing the subject, he began to converse with Claribel about her visit to the Curtises, j ei aud to ask various questions concerning the family, whom he had known, though not inti-' n mately, in former days. 1 ? "I was quite pleased to renew my acquaiu-1 s< tanceship with Henry Curtis. He seems a [ " most agreeable aud gentlemanly man. I re- 8' collect him a mere stripling when I went a away." !a "He is very nice, I think," said Claribe). c "We are quite satisfied with Holly's choice. | " We have never had a brother, and enjoy the prospect of having one." j ' She glanced at hitn to see if he would take j advantage of this little opening to say any- 11 thing regarding himself, but he did not no- H( tice it. j v "The Curtis girls are very pleasant too," * she went on. "I suppose you hardly remeiu-1 fi her thera at all; they are ajbout the ages of 1 Jennie and myself." j "Which implies that they were very youth- 11 ful at the time that I used to visit their father i and mother. Yes, I suppose they would al- n most consider me beyond the pale of acquain- d tanceship, in respect to my advanced age." 1 tl "Scarcely," said Claribe], smiling. I t "Confess, Miss Claribel, that I seem quite I a elderly individual in your eyes." "Do you suppose that I consider my sister !dna elderly, Mr. Thornton ?" He laughed, though the question uncon-! siously vexed,him a little. "I suppose not," he replied. "Well, I happen to know that there is only ! few years difference between your age and j ers." "That, of course, reduces me to silence; j lough perhaps the difference is greater than ou think. What lovely flowers these are. 11 eed not ask you if you arranged them, as I j >und you in the act when I came in." He could not have explained to himself the , iason why, but somehow it was distasteful to : -? xnnrlor rlionnc. I I(U IU imvc UCA OI9LC4 utuuguw uuvavt , on. She felt no suspicion of his little arti-j ce to change the topic of conversation, and Dmmenced pointing out her favorites among ! le flowers, dwelling on their charms in a ' lanuer that proved her true love and admiition for them. While she was thus engaged Idna came in. She looked well pleased to nd them together. "You are friends already, I see," she said, iving her hand to Hugh. "Excellent friends," he replied. "We could | jarcely fail to become so, under the circum-1 ;ances." Claribel soon slipped off, and went to seek j eunie, whom she scolded for not having come own stairs, to help her entertain Mr. Thorn- i >n. "I couldn't take the trouble," said Jennie, izily. "I am not dressed, as you see, and I ould not exchange this novel, at present, for le society of the most captivating man in all hristendom. What is he like, this paragon ; f Edna's?" "I like him ever so much, and I think he ill suit Edua exactly." Jeannette made a little grimace. "That's not very definite," said she. "Is ' e quiet or lively, handsome or ugly, clever r stupid, tall or short?" "He is not precisely handsome, but very oble-looking. He has dark eyes, though his ; jrnplexion is fair and his hair rather light; I is forehead is broad but low, and he is tall ud broad-shouldered, and has beautiful teeth d English whiskers?does that description itisfy you ?" "It is rather jumbled up, but it will do. In the whole, he is not a disappointment?" "Oh! not at all. I am sure you will be leased with him." "Don't be too sure of anything, especially j here I am concerned. However, I shall see ' im this evening, aud judge for myself. I' ra quite prepared to adopt him as my future ; dative, and be gracious to him accordingly." "He did not make any allusion to that at II. I fancied he would," said Claribel. "How could he, simpleton, when he is not agaged yet? It is to be presumed he will ittle the matter with Edna first." Nevertheless Claribel felt that Hugh's maner when he alluded to Edna had not been uite what she expected it would be. She ad very romantic ideas, and could scarcely efine her requirements of a man in his posion, but it seemed to her there was a lack of athusiasm, a sort of matter-of-fact way about ira that did not come up to her ideas of the j low of poetry and romance with which, she , aought he ought to invest his lady-love's | ery uame. This fancy she kept to herself, owever; and no doubt had she betrayed it to | euniethat young lady would have turned it ; ito ridicule, and made her uusophistication a ; irget for the shafts of her amiable satire, as, was her wout to do. Hugh Thorutou, during his residence i broad, had formed the habit of keeping a ! turnal, for the purpose of diverting his j mughtsand partly relieving the dullness and eariness of his life. On the evening of his j meting with Claribel, he made the following j itry in the volume, which he uow opeued for | le first time since his voyage. "My European life seems almost like a ream, now that I am once more settled qui-1 tly in my native State. Not precisely settled j ither, for I have, as yet, no fixed home. : t is time I should make some definite plan j i regard to my future lire. 1 have round ly old love, my youthful ideal, unchanged, j he is a very fair and lovely woman, rich in lose graces and virtues which would make a lan's home happy. Why is it, however, that ne's anticipations of any great and stirring >y is seldom, if ever, quite equalled by the sality? I miss the old thrill in ray heart; er presence used to awaken there?it seems i me my pulses beat more sluggishly than of! ore. It gives me pleasure to note her beau-1 y, her goodness, her housewifely ways, and 3 know that her regard for me is as warm as ! ver?and yet there is a want somewhere | 'hich I cannot define. Perhaps I have ideal-; :ed her too much in my thoughts, or perhaps s one advances in life, one's taste and pcrcep10118 become changed. But why should it be a? Where there is real worth, real beauty, ; rhy should it satisfy less at one time than at nother? I do not know?but there is a harm wanting, somewhere, that used to en-! brail me, and it will not be invoked by the ' mging of my soul. "My destiny, however, is clearly marked ut for me, and I must accept it. Let me; jok it honestly in the face. I cannot but: onfess to myself that it is one which most ien would welcome p-ladlv. Kdna is suited .. . .. 0 J - - - ) me iii age and in disposition. I kuow and steem her good qualities, and feel assured hat she loves me, and will devote her life to j rnkiug me happy. She is thoroughly unselsh. and what rarer or lovelier gift than un- J dfishness can be found ? Moreover she will 1 e a wife of whom I may justly be proud;: be is eminently fitted to adorn society. Even ( fter mingling with those who have possessed I 11 the advantages of a European education I j an discover no flaw in her style; no one rould imagine she was country-bred. All bese, of course, are only secondary cousideraions; her innate worth ranks first. "I feel that I am an unreasonable being, j otto be content; but alas! I still crave j [xnething beyond all this?a something ofj diich I have dreamed, for which I have waited and longed and hoped. Since I can nd no lack in her, must it uot be in myself, hat this want exists? One thing I know, hat it is a something essential to my happi- j ess. How shall 1 find it? "I hardly know what has got me iuto this j mod to-night-- I have not felt so restless, so j issatisfiod, so hcarlsore since I left Italy. I bought 1 had left all my troubles behind me here; but my life seems darkened by a shad ow, which may be sometimes lightened, but J ^ never entirely removed. When I first came i ( here I was happy?not ecstatically happy, i but grateful and content; this feeling has! grown on me since. I think I am morbid ; the influence of past care and trouble still weighs upon me; I have been used to the j . burden so long, that I cannot yet shake it off. j Ah ! if I could get the old healthful, buoyant ; spirit back. "To-day I have seen Edna's youngest sister. ! She is the most angelically beautiful being I j have ever beheld. ; 8, "I must stop writing; it is growing late, j h Perhaps a good night's rest will refresh me, I v and exercise this vexing spirit which torments a ? - >> me. p His night's rest was not sound. Me woke b frequently, a prey to uneasy thoughts; but tl when he slept, visions of golden-haired maid- 0 ens embellished his dreams, smiling on him D with deep-blue, soulful eyes, yet floating con- u stantly beyond his reach. Alas! Edna's fig- \ 1 ure had no place beside them. ' 0 Hugh was waking to the revelation of a a startling truth?one which had begun faintly, very faintly, to dawn on him before, but now q suddenly assumed proportions which made it a too evident for him to overlook. v What wasit which had so abruptly opened his eyes to the fact he could not now conceal i y from himself?that he no lonerer loved as he ! " " O . 3I was beloved ? j In his self-corornuning, he shrank from the ? thought of falseness or treachery; but the irapulse of his heart had been too swift, too mighty for hira to resist?and that heart had p gone out wholly, entirely to Claribel. Like a blind, absorbing flash of ligli t,this new passion ^ had sprung forth from the inmost recesses of ^ his being, kindling an emotion more intense than he had ever experienced; an ardent ? flame, before which his old love "paled its in-1. effectual fires," as the rays of moonlight van- j ish at the coraiug of the dawn. : ^ He struggled bravely, desperately at first, i ? against the truth. He was bound, he told himself, by every tie of honor, to Edmonia. It was true, they were not betrothed, but was 8( it not all the same as if they were? Oh ! if t| this knowledge had only come to him sooner! j a It would have been no treachery to love an- j other, after their long separation, if he had ; ^ not, himself, voluntarily renewed the bond ' between them, on his return home?nay, even ! j( before his return. It might have cost her, perhaps, a pang, but he would have merited no reproach, at least; though his fickleness j might be condemned, his honor would have j been left unstained. But now it was too late, j, He had 9howu her, by a thousand signs that t] the memory of former days were fresh within him, and that he meant their unspoken com- y pact to be fulfilled. And she had revealed to n him, in many sweet womanly ways, that the knowledge of this was joy to her heart, and w that she had never wavered in her faithfulness t| to him. How could he tell her now that he n had made a fatal mistake ? How could he q say to her, 'I fancied my heart was yours, but' j another has claimed it? I loveAer as I have never loved before' ? How could he reject j the true, tender affection of so many long and ^ patient years ? i t( These thoughts tossed, at first, like the ' ti waves of astorm-rufHed sea through his brain,1 tl plunging confusedly one upou another, chaot- j t: ic and undefined. He would not suffer him- j d self to examine his own feelings yet. Fer- j haps he was mistaken, was laboring under a ' ^ delusion, a folly, which time would clear! jf away. So he argued, and shaped his course ! *| in the same old track, though each hour, as ^ it passed, wove its toils more fatally about j ^ him, and made his duty harder to perform. ; j When he could no longer temporize with | ? himself?when it became impossible for him to shut out the contemplation of the facts be-1 ^ fore him?he made a mighty resolve. He I would crush and quell, with an iron hand, 1 this new emotion, this vain yearning. Other 1 ^ men had been forced to do the same, and yet survived the pang. He would not be untrue to Edna?he would not wed her, loving anoth- D __ ; O1 er, but would cease to love that other first. | Boastful resolve! He had set himself a hard-, er task than he was aware of. Love like his j might be baffled and driven into ambush, but not conquered. It would lie in wait, to spring i up and confront him at every turn. The reader may smile at the idea of a man p over whose head more than half of the allotted t] threescore and ten years had already passed, 'g thus rushing madly into love after the fashion p of an impetuous youth?and, still worse, love j t| at first sight! A few smiles, graciously be- j j stowed?a few commonplace words, winningly f( spoken?aud lo ! the charm was wrought as if 0 by magic. Was it her beauty that enthralled ! t| him ? He could not tell. He only knew j, that by some swift, mysterious agency, his ! 0 whole beine seemed to have become centred in f, hers. There are few men, save of the coldest! sort, who are not swayed by some such head- n long impulse once in a lifetime?the man of sj thirty-seven is no more exempt from it than p the stripling of seventeen. ; ^ One thing Hugh could and did do?avoid, tl as far as practicable, the society of Claribel. b During his visits to Brierly Farm, he strove ti to make his conversation, when in the family p circle, as general as possible; and he always c went at those hours when he was least likely a to meet Claribel alone. Unconsciously, how-, s< ever, Fdna made the accomplishment of his designs very difficult, for she was always de- b vising little plans for throwing them together, c and 'making them fond of each other,' as she rj expressed it?little dreaming that she was e herself sharpening the arrows that were to w pierce her heart. Sometimes when Hugh D asked her to drive with him, she would reply, S( "Oh ! take Clarie instead, Hugh; I have some.t ??,i t tiling very parucuuir 1,0 uu juot nun, aim j. p know she would like itor, "I'll be ready in 1 0 a little while, and meantime Clarie shall en- j j, tertaiuyou." Whenever he was able, he would 1 p make some pretext to frustrate the arrauge- ^ ments, but of course this was often difficult C( tO d0. _ ; p So they went on, treading on the brink of | rj a volcano, and only one of them knew of its ? existence, and of the fatal chance there was that at any moment the eruption might burst J forth upon them in a destroying flood. 0 (to he continued next week.) i & - - - j T Indisposed.?A physician was called to ci attend a seamstress who felt iudisposed. He ; w inquired as to her health, and she responded j w very appropriately, "Well, it's about sew sew,! . doctor, but seams worse to-day, and I have fre- \ quent stitches in tho side." The doctor hemmed us he felt her pulse, said she would mend soon, g and left a prescription. n iistotg of tooliua. Written for the Yorkville Enquirer. HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE Early Settlement of South Carolina. ? ? | BY REV. ROBERT LATHAN. (CONTINUED FROM LA8T WEEK.) On the departure of John Archdale, Joeph Blake, as previously stated, commenced ' is gubernatorial career. The circumstances rere auspicious of a tranquil aud prosperous dministration. The difficulties between the roprietors and the people, some of which had een of long standing, were, if not settled to he satisfaction of all parties, so smoothed ver and adjusted as to enable Blake to comlence his administration without any partic far prejudice against mm irom any quarter, 'here were no difficulties to be compromised r settled before he could commence a direct dministration of the affairs of the colony. There was another circumstance greatly in Jovernor Blake's favor. He was of a good nd respectable family. He was well and faorably kuown, through his father and uncle, o all the leading persons in the colony. He ras not an upstart. Such being, in part, the urroundings of Joseph Blake, he was looked pon as the "fittest person," says Archdale, to succeed to the government, and in which ffice he behaved himself to the satisfaction f the country, which he governed with equal rudence and moderation." When John Archdale returned to England e reported to the other proprietors the conition of the colony. In this report he sugested certain changes which should be made :i the "unalterable constitutions." A meetig of the lords proprietors was held and the latter was taken into serious consideration, J /vwi/?mnl And Unn/1 onrl t ttfOtl f V I UU 1/llD U( igliiat UUO IIUUUIOU MIIU Mifvuwj I laws of Carolina," or articles of the Fundalental Constitutions, were reduced to fortyne. Much that was contained in the first 2t of Fundamental Constitutions relative to j lie system of nobility which the proprietors t first evidently contemplated establishing | i Carolina, was left out of the last set, as they j rere called. No doubt, Archdale told the roprietors that it was impossible to establish i America such a government as was conBmplated by the Fundamental Constitutions, .'he new laws, which were called the "Last fundamental Constitutions," were signed by ohn, Earl of Bath ; Palatine, Anthony, Lord ishley, the Lord Craven, the Lord Carteret, he Earl of Bath, Sir John Colleton, William 'hornburgh, merchant, Thomas Amy, and Villiam Tbornburgh." These last Fundalental Constitutions were signed on the 11th f April, 1698. Major Daniel was entrusted nth the duty of of bringing these last constiutions to the colony and through the Goveror, Joseph Blake, presenting them to the /olonial Assembly for adoption. This was one ; but the assembly, as stubborn as on irmor nwdsinns nnldlv saw fit to lav them n the table to be conaiefeTefl^at some other ime. The determination of the people was o adopt no laws or "Fundamental Constituions" sent out by the proprietors. Very litle more was ever said about these "constituions" of forty-one articles, and nothirg was oue. They never were adopted. Notwithstanding the many favors granted y the proprietors during Archdale's admin-, stratiou, and the many thanks returned by j he people for the same, it soon became man:- j est that the people had not obtained all they i esired. In February, 1699, an "humble ad- j ress and remonstrance" was drawn up by the House of Commons" and sent to the proirietors. In this "address" there is much lattery, some censure and no small amount j f begging. The proprietors are lauded and xtolled for the many favors that they had I een pleased to grant the colony, and at the tune time they are modestly censured beause they had done, or suffered to be done, ome things which were detrimental to ihe irosperity of the colony. They are most Hommco thou Via*! opuf r?nf. .Tnhn Arbh- ; '"wvu """J "? ale as Governor of the colony, and they are ensured because the King,, of England was j ttempting to put in force tie-English naviation act and "the act for restraining of j rivateers and pirates." Tnfy complain that he proprietors had, in many instances, made j rants of "su(cb great tracts of land" as to be i rejudicial ttT7the interests of the colony. In his same address many petitions are made.; t was desired that no laws might be put in I jrce except those which were passed by the j onseut of the Colonial Assembly, and that his assembly might have power to enact such iwsas it might regard necessary for the good f the colony, and change any that were in jrce, prejudicial to the well being of the set-1 lemeut. The proprietors replied to Gover- j or Blake that they were astonished at him, incehe was a proprietor, in suffering such a etition to be sent up. There were other pe itions, but none of so grave a oharacter as 1 hut just mentioned. The proprietors were egged to entreat the King of Eugland "to ; ike off* the duties on rice, tar, pitch and tureutine," and to grant the colonists such en- i ouracement in the exporting of these articles s might tend to the development of the reaurces of the country. An effort had been making for sometime to ring all the American colonies into closer ouuection with the government of Englaud. 'he King's council complained to the propritors of Carolina, that the laws of England j 'ere either disobeyed or evaded by the coloy ists, in various particulars. To shield thejm- | slves from blame, the proprietors censured J ;ie Governors. It is evident that the prorietors were anxious to retain sole possession f the province. Any defect that might be ' 1 the management of the colony, or any aparent coniiict between its regulations and j ie laws of England, were charged to theac ount of the Governors. Several of the pro' ' I J - ?l ?C [ rietors nan ooiaiueu n ouaio wi tuc vool w , itory embraced in the whole province of larolina, for the trifling sum of less than fif- j ;en hundred dollars?a paltry amount, when ' . is considered that it was paid for one-eighth f all the territory included between Florida ' nd Virginia, and the Atlantic and Paci6c. j 'lie territory was only settled in what is now ! ailed North and South Carolina. But there I as a disposition to extend the settlement j estward ; and, in spite of mismanagement, I le colony at Charles Town was growing. \ 10 doubt, the King of England saw this, and 1 rieved that so rich a treasure had been per- j litted to pass, so easily, partially out of the i j hands of the royal family. The proprietors j tl j saw the prospects of the colony brightening, ci ; and were as anxious to retail the possession b I of it as the king was to add it to the acquisi-1 h | tions of the British crown. The proprietors I A yielded to both the people of the province of, w I Carolina and to the King of England. At the ft instance of the Crown, the proprietors were 1 p | induced to appoint Nicholas Trott, Attorney- j w General of the province. One of the princi- j a I pal duties devolving on Trott, in virtue of his it j office, was to examine all the laws of the col- i p ! ony, to ascertain if they were consistent with j fc ! the laws of England. This may be regarded ; ci I as an act done by the proprietors to secure the ri ! perpetuation of the government of the colony j d in their hands. ; o During the administration of Joseph Blake j w many legislative enactments were made. !0 From these we are enabled to form a tolerably correct idea of the real condition of the m j colony. The laws of a people may be regard- J ed as a fair index of their social and moral j t ! character. Laws designed to punish crime ; ~ I show that there are lawless persons in the j community ; but they also show that there is j : a determination on the part of the rulers to j js i curb the lawless, protect the weak, and en- d I courage justice and equity. Judging from u j the character of the laws enacted and re-en- p j acted during the administration of Blake, we c may safely conclude that the colony of South P ! Carolina was at that time in a healthy moral ^ | condition?at least as much so as could be w j expected, when all the surrounding circum- h I stances are taken into consideration. c: Among the first enactments made, was one relative to false or defective measures or g weights. This shows that the colonists were a commencing to trade in earnest, and to mer- S( j chandise in an upright way. David Maybank si J-x-J L_ .L _ V t was appoinieu uy ino /isoeiuuij', uu uic uui day of December, 1696, surveyor of all weights and measures used in the colony. ? All persons engaged in buying and selling, in t( the colony, were required, within two months, tj to bring their weights and measures to the of- ri fice of David Maybank, that they might be h tested by the English standards. Those found 11 correct were to be marked thus * * * * (four ^ stars), and those incorrect were to be imraediately burned, broken or destroyed. The law forbid, with heavy penalties annexed, any per- ft son using two sets of measures or weights? oi one set to be used when any commodity was A bought, and another set to be used when a 91 ^alewa3 effected. . ^^t the same time a law was enacted de- a! signed to increase the number of the inhabit- a auts and favor those coming into the colony nr to settle. In this enactment of the Assembly, D it was provided that no persons coming into .w the colony could be sued or imprisoned for rj debt duriug the period of two years after their ej arrival. No doubt the assembly meant well; g but such a law is, and always must be, un- s( righteous. No court or legislative body has ^ any right to interfere between creditor and f( debtor. If any compromises are to be maae or favors shown, the persons themselves and q 110 one else, have the inalienable right to make r) the negotiations. This act for the relief of tl debtors was repealed by the King of England, is To prevent vessels coming into Charlea ^ Town from being injured from a want of * knowledge of the harbor by the officers, pilots were appointed by the Assembly to take charge of all vessels, and conduct them into p the harbor safely. From this law we may 'tl learn that only very small vessels could enter, ei The pilots were not required to take charge a of any vessels that drew more than nine feet of water. Up to this time the greater nura- a ber of vessels entered the harbor through a what thev called the "North Channelbut i fl nieusures we?-e taken to learn the capacity of a the "South Channel," and to encourage ship- d masters to enter through it. These, together ^ with many other laws, show that the settlers were beginning to see what was for their ad- w vantage. 3l The most important enactment of this pe- b riod was "an act for the making aliens free in C this part of this province, and for granting liberty of conscience to all Protestants." The tj preamble to this act is worthy of note. In tj the colouy, at this period, there were persons el from many of the uations of Europe. The 1 b preamble to the act referred to gives us a brief j w history of the causes which had brought these J ? men, who "could not speak the English lan- j ^ guage," to the colony, and also of the manner j in which they had conducted themselves:' fc "Whereas, persecution for religion has forced some aliens to this colony." This was one c< reason why some were in the colony. Perse- " cution on account of religion, brought to the P1 colony the main body of the first settlers on i the Sautee, on Goose Creek, on the eastern ; p( branch of Cooper river, on Sewee river, and ' se on Sewee bay. There was another cause why : so manv aliens had come into the nrovince. I tc y * II" This is tliqs stated in the preamble: "The If trade and fertility of this colony has encour-j ^ aged others to resort to this colony." The | jfame of South Caroliua had spread all over j ^ the world. It was regarded as the garden w spot of the New World. The preamble also sc states the general character of the alien im-1 ^ migrants. "All have given good testimony of v< their humble duty and loyalty to his Majesty j ^ and the Crown of England, aud of their i fidelity to the true and absolute lords and pro- n< prietors of this province, and of their obedi-; ni ence to their laws, and their good affection to lo the inhabitants thereof; and by their iudus-1 try, diligence and trade, have very much en riched and advanced this colony and settle-j raent." it ' In view of these facts all Protestant aliens \h were, by an act of the assembly, ratified on 8? the 10th of March 1097, made free as those i born in Eugland. Those who heretofore lived j in a kind of dread lest their children would , ar not inherit their property were put to rest on ' J) this subject. The children of aliens could inherit property the same as the children of', English parents. All Christians (Papists excepted) which were then in the colony, or ev might in subsequent time come into the colony,. wj tuaro allmvort pninv fllll frpp find linrlis- ! al ? J "J 1 I u. turbed liberty of conscience. * The provisos j a were that the public peace be not disturbed,; W( and that all aliens of age "do sincerely prom- j ot iseand swear that they will be faithful and i ac . . pr bear true allegiance to his majesty, King William." This euaetment was in perfect e(j harmony with the charter granted by Charles w< the Second, and with the desires of the pro- j m> prietors. Jen ' US The administration of Joseph Blake was ^ peaceful and prosperous. It was not, howev-: er, without its share of calamities. In 1697 j rei the small pox raged with dreadful fatality iu I no le colony. Near four hundred persons wer< arried off by this loathsome disease. A fir* roke out in Charles Town in February, 1696 rhich destroyed a vast amount of property i bout one hundred and forty thousand dollar! 'orth of property was consumed, and fifty imilies left without a shelter. The fire wa! receded by a terrible hurricane which swepi ith unbridled fury over sea and land. Deatl: nd destruction marked its track. These vis ations of Providence were closed by the ap earance of the yellow fever. It spread wit! sarful rapidity, and multitudes died. Thesf alamities, together with the raids of the pi ates upon the commerce of the colony, nc oubt had much to do in allaying the spirit f civil strife. In the ravages of wind and ave, fire and disease, the people forgot theii Id and unfounded prejudice. [to be continued next week.] itlkttllHtteflttti Headmu. C^^TJTTTTT^TTTT T-l-TfT- fm T -w-v " * _JU _ to v NEWSPAPERS. As newspapers, simply, those of Americt re the best in the world. The entire glob< i raked, and raked clean every day, of inci ent, movement and event to be blazonec pon their teeming pages. Science, religion olitics, society, commerce, agriculture, me hanics, all things of human concern, find lace for every fact and phase in their col ran8. The lightnings are their messengers rinnowing the midnight world with theii ungs, and bearing in their beaks from the arvest-fields of thought and action every pre' ious seed that has ripened and dropped dur ig the day. No cost of toil or gold dismay; lera. Their servants are on every battle eld, in the thick of every mob, in the forest; nd the deserts, on the mountains and on the 3as, watching kings, watching parliaments itting by the side of the astronomer in hi; igils, recording the message of the preacher ounting the steps of scientific progress, and earing the product of all this enormous en jrprise and industry, morning by morning ) the homes of the nation. The outcome of lis world-wide inquisition and exposition ses almost into the realm of miracles. Wc ave no words to express our admiration oi ?no phrases by which we can measure the eight and depth and length and breadth oi le largesse it contains and the influence if certs. This much we can say with entire truthllness; this much we can say with a thorsgh heartiness. To preside over a great .merican newspaper is to hold and exercise oe of the most dignified offices of the world, fow, let us open the newspaper and see how looks. Freighted with the world's greaf ffairs, loaded down with the hopes, struggles, lisfortunes, crimes, triumphs and achievelents of humanity, we expect to find it earest, dignified and catholic. The first thing e see is half a column of sensational headigs, addressed, perhaps, to the prurient cu*"" ^ *h /* L.tn/tni ma am Alf A A Woof. usity ui tue unseat liieu. it e ujjcu a u ?irn paper, and find over an item of intellience, or of falsehood, concerning a grievous jandal, the word "Hell!" in as large letters 3 can be squeezed into a column. This is >llowed by minor heads, every one of which i intended to produce a sensation. We gc n through the paper, and it is all sensation, ftentimes the headings mislead as to the 3al character of the intelligence to which ley are the preface. All the news chronicled i wrought up into its most startling forms, 'o pique curiosity, to raise feeling, to attract tteution, to appeal to the marvellous, to be ,unning, rather than simple and true, are the pparent motives of the conductor. Is this an extreme case? We can furnish apers by the hundred that steadily pursue lis course as a matter of policy. It is not iiough that we have party presses in religion nd politics that give a party shape to everyling that comes to them. It is not enough lat we have presses that rejoice in scandal nd crime, and take greater delight in them, nd take greater pains with their details than re excited by those affairs which mark the dvance of the world in goodness and wisom. It is not enough that there are papers hich mould all things that they touch to le nersonal Dumosesand prejudices of their I 1 I # * u anductors. If a thing is tame it must be hipped into a startling appearance. If it is id?inexpressibly sad from its badness?its adness must yield the requisite sensation. Ireat aud good names are jested with. Topjs involving the most precious interests of the uman race, are tossed flippantly about, like le halls of a juggler, to attract the eyes of le gaping multitude. Subjects of which hildren can never know too little, are laid efore the family eye as familiarly as if they ere not steeped in shame. To receive the orld's news, in the spirit and shape in which is presented to millions of readers every ay, is to suppose that all the world's moraen>us events are conceived in fever and brought >rth in hysterics. If any thing were really gained by this )urse there might be a poor apology for it, ut nothing ever was gained by it. The paers which indulge in it most are least trust1. The moment an editor becomes thorjghly conscientious aud recognizes the iraartance and dignity , of his position, he drops insational headings with disgust. Shall we meution another sin ? Have we, - J ? ? " ? ?""l* *!???/? in A rvi Avmn oa rin'ttn f o l-lltty, ttlljr SUUll tiling iu xiuiciita oo pnnaK fe? Is a private man, or even a man's famy, safe from public mention? Alas! that ic press has an apology for its familiar handng of private names and private affairs, .las! that there are so many in private life ho rejoice in the public airing of their perinalities and their personal movements, las! that the details of private life are de)ured so greatly by so many who do not em to know that the love of notoriety is vulir, aud that their desire to pry into the life 'others compromises their dignity and their jighborly good will. After all, is it a digfied business for the press to minister to this w and unhealthy greed ? Is the world so irren of great topics that the press, psrforce, ust transform itself into a neighborhood tater and public gossip ? Are valuable opinns and valuable intelligence so scarce that must send its prying interviewers out among e ranks of private men, to worm out their crets, on pain of misrepresentation and >use, and spread them before a curious pub3? The American press of the future will >t do it, unless civilization shall retrograde, id our nation remain a nation of children.? r. J. G. Holland, Mistakes Matrimonial.?That the subct is lamentably old we readily admit; but bat matters that, so long as humanity is er new ? Marrying and giving in marriage ill continue to the end of the world, but, for 1 that, a great number of marriages prove mistake. Unfortunately, when men and :>men have matrimonial designs upon each her, they endeavor to hide their true charters, and, however dissimilar their tastes, to eteud they are alike. The rules of etiquette e such that a course of deception is rendersurprisingly easy ; indeed, so facile, that 3re there 110 intention upon the part of those ost concerned to dissemble, almost the same d would be attained. Is it not natural to to display our best attributes to strangers either sex ? Men are often captivated by e seeming amiability of women who are, in ality, shrewish ; while women admire the bility of men who cannot define the word "OOIlOr. in eiiueruase, Uiatnuiuu; avwvn? afterward misery in five cases out of six. For after marriage the traits of characters begin to show themselves. A scowl or a sharp word, or a mean action, will not then involve consequences. Things that before the knot has been tied would probably bring about a separation, after the honeymoon has been passed are quietly received, probably upon the principle that "what can't be cured, must be endured." It must not be understood that we mean to imply that the majority of marriages I is entered upon without affection being at the , bottom of them. We grant that there is love I of a certain kind in many, and very sincere 1 love in some. What we maintain is, that it is brought to fruition under such circumstan. ces that it cannot be expected to endure.? , Hall's Journal. < ?? . I T?T?mT.vr.r?Tn oil acres there . j llUiHAn AU M.. ?& have been those who believed in man's power to prolong his existence in this world, it might be for years, and it might be forever. En' thusiasts have searched far and wide for the Fountain of Youth, and did before they had touched their lips to the immortal waters. : Bulwer wrote a novel of which this idea was the motif. Hawthorne's "Septimius Felton" i was the story of a man who resolved to live 5 forever, and who sacrificed all human joys and interests at the shrine of this illogical I longing. For the most part this dream of an , everlasting existence on this earth has be longed to poets and enthusiasts, and other such I dwellers in the clouds. One is surprised to find, in the works of Roger Bacon, that phi, losopher seriously discussing the idea of an r earthly immortality, and pretty distinctly > avowing his own faith in its possibility. He says that death is no doubt occasioned by man's long abuse of himself. "The possibili3 ty of prolonging human life," he says, "is confirmed by the fact that the human species 3 is naturally immortal, or able not to die. For, i even after the loss of aboriginal longevity, it , is by imperceptible degrees that individual 3 life is abbreviated, and this, being contingent, " ' ' " i. J 1 , might be partially, 11 not wnony, resiureu uj I a persistent regimen of temperance and con tinency observed by generation after genera, tion." But the p9et's dreams and the phi? losopher's speculations have alike failed to i bring forth fruit, and the generations of men ! go on into the next country, as the German f separatists quaintly say. And are we sorry ? s To live on, when the rest were gone, that were the true death. ; Sedan.?The eighth volume of the great , work on the Franco-German war, published , by the German Imperial staff, was issued at . Berlin on the 20th of May. It is especially I devoted to the battle of Sedan, and contains, besides a great many curious documents and plans, a fac simile of the letter in which Napoleon III, declares he gives up his sword to King Wilhelm. There is also a sketch of the little cottage near Donchery, where the meetiug of the two sovereigns took place. rjormon ormv HRvs the volume, lost in , the battle 460 officers and 3,500 men, killed . or seriously wounded ; the French army 3,000 , killed and 14,000 wounded. As to the flags, , the Germans found but two, and one eagle ; , the surrendered troops either burned those , dear trophies or threw them into the Meuse t before the capitulation. , The French had iu line, altogether, during the battle, only 83,000 men, with 450 pieces j of artillery and mitrailleuses, against 220,000 , Germans, with 1,180 Krupp guns. | The Prussian official account fully confirms, besides, the terrible accusation inces; santly renewed against the Bavarians, of havs ing, at Bazeilles, close to Sedan, on Septem, ber 1st, barbariously slaughtered the helpless inhabitants of this village, and driven back into the flames men, women, children and old ( people, indiscriminately, until nothing remained but smoking ruins and charred corpses. The Griefs of Childhood.?These bitter j sorrows of childhood ! when sorrow is all new and strange, when hope has not yet got wings to fly beyond the days and weeks, and the space from Summer to Summer seems meas, ureless. "Ah ! my child, you will have real trouble to fret about by and by," is the conso! lation we have all had administered to us in ( our childhood, and have repeated it toother'" , children since we have been grown up. We Kovo all anhhed so niteouslv, standing with ! tiny, bare legs above our little socks, when , we lost sight of our mother or nurse in some strange place; but we can no longer recall | the poignancy of that moment and weep over , it, as we do over the remembered sufferings of i five or ten years ago. Every one of those . keen moments has left its trace, and lives in us still, but such traces have blent themselves I irrevocably with the finer texture of our youth and manhood and so it comes that we t can look at the troubles of childhood with a smiling disbelief in the reality of their pain. Surely, if we could recall that early bitterness, and the dim guesses, thej^angely perspectiveless conception of life tnw gave the bitterness its intensity, we should not pooh-pooh the ! griefs of our children. Childhood has no forebodings; but then it is soothed by no memories of outlived sorrows. California Gold.?The gold of California was noticed by early Spanish explorers, and was again discovered on the Colorado river, just a century since, in 1775, but attracted no attention till its re-discovery early in 1848, when the existence of very rich gold alluvions was made known. A rapid immigration to the region at once followed, and it was reported in August of that year that the daily production of gold was from $30,000 to $50,000. It was not until 1851 that gold-bearing veins were discovered, and the larger part of California gold has been got from the placers, ollnninno OPO Pflllfid. It is &() }- tllC 00 LUG ttUUTIVUu __ partial exhaustion of these that the production has of late years considerably diminished. In 1848 it was estimated at 810,000,000, $nd reached its maximum of 865,000,000 in 1863. In 1870 it had fallen to 825,000,000, and reached 819,000,000 in 1873, but rose again in 1874 to 820,300,000. The total yield, since the opening of the mines in 1848, amounts to more than 81,000,000,000. The working of I the gold-bearing veins and of the deeper alj luvions or placers has of late been systems(tized aud greatly improved, and from the | abundance and richness of these, and the per! sistenceof the veins in depth, this region may 1 be expected to produce great amounts of gold I for generations to come. I Ballooning.?The following practical ( hints on ballooning are published by Donaldj son, the aeronaut, in a little paper called the ! Aerial: The lifting strain of a balloon is principally on the net. If a balloon will stand inflation, it is safe in mid air. In winter the atmosphere is warmer one mile above the clouds than it is at the earth's surface, j The weight of a balloon to carry one man, . including net and basket, should not exceed 80 pounds. A cotton ballon will last for j about sixty ascensions. A balloon thirty feet 1 in diameter undergoes a strain of II pounds j to the square foot of surface. Gas, which at j the earth fills the bag only half full, will, at an elevation of 31 miles, expand so as to fiH j it completely. One thousand feet of coal gas j will raise 38 pounds. Gas which gives a j poor light is the best for aerostatics. Kites I can be used to steer balloons by sending them j up or lowering them into currents of air travj eliug in different directions from that in which i the balloon is sailing.