Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page. It is also available as plain text as well as XML.

* lewis m. grist, proprietor, j ^it |nbcj?cnbent Jamiln ftetosjraper: Jor tjje promotion of t|e political, Social, ^.gricaltural anb Commercial Interests of tjjc Smttjr. jTERMS?$3.00 A YEAR, IN ADVANCE. VOL. 31. YORKVILLE, S. C., THURSDAY, AUGUST 12, 1875. HO. 32. jU ?rigiual $torg. ^ Written for the Yorkville Enquirer. THE SEVEN SISTERS OF YORK. CHAPTER XIII. Everything seemed upside down at Brierly Farm. The usual serenity which was a charteristic of that well-ordered household had vanished, and a spirit of restlessness and discomfort had usurped its place. It was not only the bustle and excitement attendant upon the preparations for Dolly's wedding which caused the change. The concurrence of startling and unexpected events which had lately taken place had thrown every one's mind off its balance. Even Jennie's gayety was broken by 6ts of depression, and a feeling of anxiety and vague apprehension reigned among them all. For Dolly's sake, however, Edna en-J ?? ? AnnAAwanna nkonpTn 1. UCIIVUrCU tU Acup Oil appeal auv>u vi vuvwuuiness, and incited others to do the same; and Dolly, who was by no means insensible to this unselfishness on her part, testified her appreciation of it in an interview she bad with her on the morning of her wedding-day. "Dear Edna," she said, embracing her, "you are as good to me as you can be, and have always been so. I can't bear to go away and leave yon." "I shall miss you, too, dearest; but I must get used to that?one by one, you will all be slipping out of the home nest soon." "You are such a sweet, kind sister. How I wish?" "What ?" asked Edna as she stopped. "I wish you could have all the happiness you deserve," said Dolly, with tears in her eyes. "I am quite sure to have that," replied Edna, resolved to ignore any special meaning in the remark. "We all have as much as we deserve, and more, too, as a general rule. I am truly thankful, my dear, that your prospects are so bright." J ' "Oh, yes ! I think I am very fortunate," oi/t TVillv not witVmnt anme natural enmnlft -?* t r? cency; and then her thoughts reverted to the important ceremony of the approaching evening and all the arrangements connected therewith ; and she commenced a discussion of the respective merits of white and colored flowers for the supper-table, which was much pteasanter than dwelling on uncomfortable thoughts. Edna, with a sort of feverish anxiety to get the final wrench over as soon as possible, had urged upon Claribel the expediency of a short engagement?especially as she knew that Hugh had been pressing for the same; but Claribel hung back with an unconquerable reluctance to take the decisive step. To tell the truth, the young girl was only half happy. She felt contiuually as though she were doing her sister an injury; and all Edna's tenderness could not efface the impression, which was somewhat like that she had been wont to experience, when, as a child, she bad grieved over some wrong-doing of her own for which Edna had been too forbearing to punish her. It must be owned that Hugh did not partake ? /s. X? iLln ^nllnr. U S\ UrtlAl in tKo tmugeiuei Ul 11119 ICCllUg. lie icjuimu >u iuv consummation of his desires, which seemed to have been so easily achieved ; and beiug a man, aud therefore gifted with less penetration than Claribel, he was more readily deceived than she was by Edna's outward serenity of demeanor, and fancied that, after all, he might have made mountains out of molehills, and exaggerated unduly the difficulties in his way. He was impatient to transplant Claribel from the somewhat gloomy atmosphere of her present surroundings to bloom in the sunshine of a home of their own. It happened that he was summoned away on business of importauce, on the very day of the wedding; but he deferred leaving until after the ceremony, from which, especially as he was to act as one of the groomsmen, he could not well have absented himself. It was arranged, therefore, that he should start at eleven o'clock that night, which would just enable him to reach his journey's end at the ' right time to accomplish his purpose. The first wedding in a family is usually attended with considerable importance ; but in this case it had not been so. Virgilia had been married, a fortnight before, quite privately and without display, and a very doleful and unsatisfactory affair it had seemed to them all. She had, at once, gone home to her husband's house; and since then they had seen her but twice, and that only in Mr. lioldweg's company, which made their intercourse a little constrained. Of course this singular marriage had excited universal surprise among their friends; but, as they all admitted, Virgilia was so different from other people, that it was to be expected that she should adhere to her eccentricity now as on other occasions. Mr. Holdweg was regarded by most of them as a queer, good-natured, harmless sort of man, whose ugliness and ungainly appearance had been supposed to be sufficient antidotes against any young lady falling in love with him ; but then, as they said, people's tastes differed, and if Virgilia's fancy overlooked bis deficiencies, of course they had no right to find fault with her choice. Dolly's wedding was quite a different matmatter. Everything was done that was suitable and proper, and everybody considered it an "excellent match." The bride looked very beautiful and stately in her sweeping silken draperies, and her coronet of large, pure pearls, the gift of her betrothed, and comported herself with becoming presence of mind on the occasion. The delight of the Curtis fatuity was unequivocal. The doctor overflowed with hilarity, aud Mrs. Curtis was repeatedly heard to declare her satisfaction at "my Henry's" good fortune, while the two girls, Ellen and Lucy, on the completion of the ceremony each bestowed on their new connection a most * - . J sisterly caress oi adoption, wnicn sne receiveo with her usual amiable placidity of demeanor only giving a furtive glance at the mirror af terward, to assure herself that her veil was not disordered by the ardor of their demon strations. Hugh and Claribel, as they stood together attracted much attention. The latter was look ing pale, but unusually lovely, and Hugh'i noble face and protecting air seemed a fitting shield for her delicacy and gentleness. Af the hour approached for him to start on bit journey, he led her out into the garden, thai he might enjoy a few moments with her alon< before he bid her farewell. It was a coo eveuiug, though milder than usual for th< season, and no one but themselves had thoughl of coming out of the warm and well lightec rooms into the chilly night air. "I hope you are well wrapped up, Clarie," | Hugh said, drawing her shawl closer around ; her. "I should not have made you come out ; but I longed to have a little of you all to myself, as I am not to see you again for a whole long week." j "Will it be a whole week, Hugh ?" | "Yes ; perhaps longer, if I don't get my ; business arranged to my satisfaction. Are { you sorry to have me go, darling?" "Yes, very sorry; but?"she hesitated. "Huch. I don't think it can be only that I o~? which makes me feel as I do." I "How do you feel, love ?" j "Sostrangely?I have such a weight here" she laid her hand on her heart, "that seems | | like a foreboding of coming sorrow. Hugh, do you believe in presentiments ?" "Not the least iu the world," he answered j gaily. "I never had one yet that didn't prove a cheat." j "Well, I never felt like this before. It j seems to have come upon me all of a sudden, { while you were speaking, in the strangest1 way!" She shivered and clung more closely to his j arm as she spoke. ! "Foolish child!" said Hugh tenderly. "It i is nothing but a sort of reaction after all the j excitement you have been through?blended, II hope, with a little regret at the thought of our parting, brief though it will be." j "Hugh," said Claribel after a moment's si- i ! lence, "suppose anything should happen to ; prevent our meeting again as soon as you ex- j : pect ?" ! "How do you mean ?" "Suppose you were kept away a long time? j or suppose one of us should die!" Plar!c? tcViaf r?nn have | viai ic iuj i< ibiu viuitv) ?? - . put such gloomy ideas into your head ?" "I don't know?but they will come. The thought just flashed over me of how you would feel if you should come back and find me | dead?if you should go into the library, for ! instance, expecting to meet me living and ! well, and see me lying there instead?" Hugh pressed her passionately to his heart. I "Hush?hush," he said in a smothered tone. , "For Heaven's sake, don't talk in that way.! You know it would kill me outright?the very thought is too horrible to be endured. | But what folly to think about it at all," he added more lightly, with tender chiding in his voice. "You are morbid to-night, dearest, or you would not try to unnerve me by speak- j ing of what is the most unlikely thing in the world. Why will you make me more unwilliug to part from you than I was before ?" "Perhaps! was wrong to say it; but it i slipped into my mind, and I just said it right | out." "\DUt wnai llJUUe 11 Slip IIJLU juu1 imiuvi 1 "Ah! that I cannot tell. Who can account for their thoughts ?" "Do you often amuse yourself with such cheerful fancies?" "No. not often. I do not think that that | idea ever occurred to me before." "Well, I trust it will never occur again." They walked on a little way in silence; then Hugh continued, in a different tone? "Clarie, can you not give me a final answer ; now, to the question I have so often asked you ? Don't let me leave you with the un- j certainty still hanging over me." "Oh! Hugh, please wait until you come i back." "But why ? I cannot understand your mo- ! tive for the delay. Is it that you are not suf- ] ficientlv sure of your regard for me to be able ' to make up your mind to resign yourself to my guardianship?" "You know that is not the reason." "Then I should like to know whi t is." "To tell you the truth," rejoined Ciuribel, ! slowly, "I scarcely know myself. I don't i think I really have a reason. Sometimes I fancy?" She stopped abruptly. "Fancy what?" "I don't think I'll tell you, because it is ; silly, and I've told you enough of ray silly fancies for to-night." "Well, let me hear it, at all events. It is well that I should know the extent of your ! silliness." j "I was going to say, that sometimes I fancy we shall never be married." "Do you mean that you intend to jilt me?" "No, I do not mean that. You know that I love you better than any one in the whole j world." "Do you, indeed, love me better than any one in the world ?" "You know I do, Hugh." "Then I will not scold you for the prepos-1 terous idea you advanced just now?almost as preposterous, by the way, as the former one. But you have chosen an odd time to j indulge in melancholy presages?a festive night like this, when every one is expected to be blithe and cheerful in honor of the occa-; sion." "People say there is a skeleton at every feast," rejoined Claribel. At this moment a chilly gust came sweep ing around them, whirling the dry leaves about their feet, and making Claribel wrap herself more closelv in her shawl. "How cold it is growing," she said with a i shiver. "I think we ought to go in." "I suppose we ought?and I suppose, by the way, it must be quite time for me to start on my journey. Olarie, I'll depute you to j make my adieux to the rest of the family. I j won't interrupt them now ; but will just tell , you good-by out here, and leave you in the front piazza." "I wish you did not have to go, Hugh." | "So do I; but necessity has no law, you | know." They lingered a moment in the shadow of . the trees, before emerging on the moonlit | i lawn. "Mind, you are to be as blithe as a lark j . until I come back," said Hugh. I 'In Conrad's absence wouldstthou have ineglad?' she quoted, playfully. ' "Yes, when the absence is to be such a short j one. Well, good-by, darling?though I would fain linger, for "Parting is such sweet sorrow That I would say good-by until to-morrow.' , But I am rather an advanced Romeo, am i i I not ? Goochnight, and fare-thee-well, sweet 5 Juliet." f \ "Good-by, dear Hugh." 3 She clung to him for a moment as though 3 she could not bear to let him go?something t of the foreshadowing of evil which she had j > j spoken of seeming to add intensity to the emI i brace; then relaxing their clasp, they walked j 31 silently, hand in hand, across the lawn to the t foo.t of the steps, and the next instant, with I oneclose farewell pressure of the hand, Hugh ! was gone. Claribel stood for a brief space where he had left her, bowed down by the weight of an indehnable sorrow, while her oppressed soul found relief in a gush of silent teare. Vainly did she chide herself for her weakness?as j vainly did she try to conquer it; the dim, j heavy cloud of ill omen seemed to shroud her ; spirit like a pall, and would not be lifted off. The increased chilliness of the atmosphere, however, warned her of the danger of linger-j ing longer out of doors ; and removing, as well as she could, the traces of her emotion, she went into the house and sought her own room i for a few minutes that she might arrange her j disordered hair and regain her outward com- j posure before rejoining the assembled guests. ! While she was thus engaged, there was a light knock at the door, and Virgilia entered. | She looked a little agitated, but Claribel was too much occupied with her own thoughts to observe anvthiner unusual in her appear - I ance. "Are you just come in, Ciarie? People have been asking for you," she said. "Have they ? I am coming down now. I have been^out in the grounds for a little while j with Hugh. He has gone away, you know." "Gone away ! When ? Where to?" "Just now?only for a few days ; I thought ; you had heard of his intention." "No, I had not. Ciarie," said Virgilia ab- j ruptly, "when are you to be married ?" "I really do not know?have not decided j yet." "Have you not, really?" Virgilia, as she spoke, was fidgeting among the things on the dressing-table, putting down j and taking up the various little knick-knacks,; in a manner very unusual to her, and there j was a bright spot of color in each of her cheeks. "You like a long engagement, then, it would seem." Claribel made no reply. She wa3 wondering ! inwardly what had brought her sister thither J at this time, for the two had not been on such cordial terms of late as to make either seek an interview with the other without sufficient j cause. "Before we leave, to-night," continued Virgilia, "may I say a few words to you, alone?" j "Why not now? I am at your service," j replied Claribel. "No, no?we had best go down, now ; peo-1 pie might think it odd that we should absent! ourselves." "It. is not likely that any one will remark it." "At all event, I can't stay now?I only ran up for'a minute to see if you were here. I heard Edna say, just before I came, that supper would be ready directly. When I am going, I will let you know, and you must come to me quickly, so no one will remark it?I will tell you why, afterwards." "Is it a secret which you have to tell me ?" "You will see?it is something particular. But I want you to be careful to do just as I j ask you." "Very well?I'll take care," said Claribel, a good deal surprised. "Just call me when j you want me." They went down stairs, and she thought no j more about the matter until, supper being over, the guests began to depart, when Virgilia, passing her as she stood in the recess of a window, touched her on the arm and whis- J pered, "Follow me." Claribel started. It chanced that there was no one near, and her exit from the room was 1 unobserved. Her sister glided through a passage to the back door, and waited there an instant, until she joined her. "Put this round you," she said, in a low voice, hurriedly throwing over her shoulders ' Claribel's own shawl, which she had on her J arm. "I want you to come out here for a mo-j raent, and it's so cold." "Virgilia, where on earth are you going ?" j "Hush !?don't ask rae yet, Clarie ; it is to ' see some one?I know you won't refuse?come ! this way, through the garden?wait, I'll open ; the gate?I want you to come to the little ; summer-house?to see some one?"* "Who is it? Can't you tell rae?" "My husband will tell you?it is a little secret of his. Let us make haste, so we won't be missed. I want to see Edna again before j I go home. There's my husband yonder,: waiting for us." "Where ?" asked Claribel. "In the summer house?don't you see him?" i "I see something dark," replied Claribel, "which looks like a shadow." The shadow moved, and came forward at! their approach. It was, in truth, Mr. Hold- j weg, as virgina nact saia. "Dear young lady, I thank you so much j for coming," he said taking her hand. I had j a special request to make of you, as no doubt! ray wife has told you." "She has told roe nothing," said Claribel.! "Ah ! then I will tell you. See here?1j have something very particular to show you? . you can see it quite well in the light of the j moon?" He took something from his pocket, and ! held it for her to look at, without relinguish- . ing his hold of it. As Claribel bent over to j see what it was, she felt herself sudenly clasped around the shoulders, and a handkerchief, was pressed over her face. A sickening odor J filled her nostrils, she tried to scream, but her voice was stifled. After one or two vain strug- j gles her consciousness deserted her, and she knew nothing more. [to be continued next week.1 How They Faced Death.?Augustus Ciesar chose to die in a staudiug position, arid was careful in arranging his position and dress for the occasion. Julius Ciesar, when slain by the conspirators in the capitol, con- ' cealed his face beneath the folds of his toga, ' so that his enemies could not see the death- j pang upon his countenance. Siward, Earl of Northumberland, when at the point of death,' j quitted his bed, and put on his armor, saying, "It becomes not a man to die like a beast." ! Maria Louisa, of Austria, who, a short time j before she breathed her last, having falleu ; into an apparent slight slumber, one of the : ladies in attendance remarked that her ma- j jesty seemed to be asleep. "No," replied she, | "I could sleep if I would indulge repose, but j I am sensible of the near approach of death, ! aud I would not allow myself to be surprised I by him in ray sleep; I wish to meet him wide i awake." Lord Nelson, on receiving the fa- j tal shot, said to Captain Hardy, "They have done for me at last, Hardy; my backbone is shot through ;" aud had the presence of mind, j while being carried below, to take out his ! handkerchief and cover his face and stars, to j be concealed from the gaze of his crew. And J last of all, the grea? Bonaparte died in his j held marshal's uniform and boots, which he : had ordered to be put on a short time previous to his dissolution. I pstotg of f. tolina. Written for the Yorkville Enquirer. HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF TUB Early Settlement of South Carolina. BY REV. ROBERT LATHAN. (continued from last week.) The administrations of Moore and his sue cessor mark an important epoch in the historj of South Carolina. The importance consist! not in what was done, but in the direction ir which the current of public sentiment begar to flow. At this time a political party wai formed, which ultiraated, in 1719, in the trans fer of the province from the proprietors to tin Crown of England. Nathaniel Johnson was a man in man] respects admirably adapted for the high posi tion to which he was appointed; but, uufor tunately, he was banded together with Moore Trott, Howe and others high in office. Thesi formed a kind of nucleus around which gath ered a multitude of creatures who ha d neithei the spirit to res st insult nor to maintain theii rights. In every country there is a class o men who are e.isily bought. In the colony at the time of which we are speaking, such a class of persons existed. These?Moore, Troti and Johnson?bought up and kept under theii control, to the great detriment of the peac< and tranquility of the colony. Their votes were bought with rum, and with the sanx price they were both hired and inflamed tc make attacks upon peaceful citizens. One would bo led to conclude that undei such a government the colony would hav< ceased to flourish. Such, however, was nol the case. Charles Town was put in a propel state to be defended against the invasions ol the Spanish, both from Havana and St. Au gustine. The liability to be attacked at anj moment never permitted thera to lose sight o: the necessity of being well fortified. The As sembly were ever careful to inquire into tlx military condition of the province, and gen erous in making appropriations for the de fense. For the time, strong fortifications hat been erected on Cooper river. Magazine! had been built, and amunition of various kinds stored away in them. When lioveruoi Johnson assumed the duties of his oiBce, then were about one hundred cannon, planted it different localities, for the defense of the city Some of these were small; but when we re member the youthfulness of the colony, we are ready to conclude that the people display ed much energy in ^fortifying themselves During the administration of Johnson, For Johnson was commenced and completed which was, at that time, regarded as sufficien to command the harbor. Among the first acts ratified whilst Nathan iel Johnson was Governor, was one whicl was designed to deprive the Dissenters of al power in the administration of the govern rnent of the colony, and place all power ant all the offices of honor and trust in the hand: of Episcopalians.- It is entitled "An act foi the establishment of religious worship in thii Province, according to the Church of Eng land." The first sectioa required that all th< forms and ceremonies of the Church of Eng land be strictly observed by all ministers ii the province. This seems strange, when w< remember that far the greater number of in habitants were Dissenters of various persua sions. It must not be forgotten that it was the purpose of the original proprietors of th< province to establish in it the form of religious worship held and practiced by the Uhurch oi England; but: through the influence, no doubt of John Locke, the section was introduced which granted religious liberty to Dissenters Honesty demands us to say that we do nol think strange of the original proprietors cherishing such an intention. They had beer educated in the Church of Eugland, and i] not consistent members of it, at least all theii prejudices were in its favor. It does not ap pear that the original proprietors were men of more than ordinary piety; but they were strongly inclined to favor the Church of Eng land, whilst they acted leniently toward Dis senters. Up to the time of Johnson, no effort was made to disturb the inhabitants of the colon} in their religious belief. Infidels and papists were excluded ; but Christians of all persua sious were permitted to worship God according to the dictates of their own conscience It is true that in 1698, during the time ol Governor Blake, an act was passed settling a mointoniinnn nnnn o miniotsf in f!hlir(>ll of England iin Charles Town; but this was not designed, as; we understand it, to establish a particular form of the Christian religion in the province. The act of 1698 provided thai seven hundred and fifty dollars, (?150 sterling,) be settled upon Samuel Marshall and his successors forever. Samuel Marshall was a pious minister of the gospel, and at thai time was pautcr of the Episcopal Church al Charles Town. Blake, who was either a Presbyterian or Baptist, proposed the law and it was through his influence and the in fluence of other Dissenters that it was passed by the Assembly. It is evident, from this fact alone, thai, it "Iras not designed by the Assembly to establish the Church of England in the colony. The fact is, the Episcopalians were greatly in the minority, and, as said be fore, no question was made in the colony re specting religious creeds or professions. Greal harmony existed amongst all sects. It rathei seems that the act of 1698 had its origin in c generous and noble Christian spirit. Tin strong assisted the weak ; the many stretched out a helping hand to the few. Samuel Marshall was a very pious man, and greatly be * . mi. . i i..._ i Jovecl by all parties, ine cnarucier ttnu m struction of this good man, no doubt, had much to do in the passage of the act to which we have referred. From the first day that Granville became Palatine, he determined to establish the Church of England in the colony of South Carolina, and either banish or render powerless the Dissenters. The character of Granville wa3 well known to the leaders of the dominant party in the colony, audi, for purposes purely mercenary, they favored his u jholy scheme. Truth requires us to say that the Episcopalian Church, as such, is not chargeable with the many laws which were passed during the administration of Nathaniel Johnson in reference to religion. Neithei was it done by any act of the Episcopalian members of the Assembly that passed the act most destructive to the rights and liberties ol the majority of the people. Several of the Episcopalian members voted against the act, and the Rev. Marston was called "the pest of the country" because he declared, in several sermons, that the Assembly had usurped to themselves unrighteous powers. The Rev. Marston was the successor of Samuel Marshall as pastor of the Episcopal Church in 1 Charles Town. The passage of the act filled his soul with righteous indignation, and for his opposition to the course of the usurpers he was made to answer. His salary was with_ ! held, and he was otherwise made to suffer. ^ r j The acts passed are too long to quote. To : give the reader an idea of their general character, we will transcribe some portions of them. Section II of the act ratified May 6, 1704, is as follows: Whereas, some persons scruple the receiving the sacrament of the Lord's Supper, for reasons they fear they are not rightly fitted and prepared to partake of that ordinance, who do, nevertheless, out of real choice, conform to the Church of England, as established by law, and do sincerely profess the same, and do not abstain from the sacrament of the Lord's Supper out of any dislike to the manner and forme of the administration thereof, as used by the Church of England, and proscribed in the communion office in the book of common prayer of tlRj said Church; be it therefore enacted by the authority aforesaid, That every person that after the ratification of this act, shall be chosen a member of the Commons House 1 of Assembly in this province, in case ho hath r not received the sacrament of the Lord's Snpper, P according to tho rights and usages of the Church 1 j of England, as is before prescribed by this act, f then every such person, before he votes in the said Commons House of Assembly, or sits there 1 during any debate in tho said house after the t Speaker is chosen, shall, upon his outh, taken on the Holy Evangelist, declare that he is of the pror fession of the Church of England, as established 3 by law, and that he doth conform to the same, and usually frequents the said church for the pnb' lie worship of God. 5 The first section of this net made it incum) | bent upon each member to have taken the ! sacrament of the Lord's Supper, as prescribed f j by the Church of England, within the last i! twelve months previous to his taking his seat, t: Section II is a kind of proviso to meet the r case of those Episcopalians who had conscif entious scruples about their fitness to partake ; of this holy ordinance. Section IV of the r i same enactment absolutely forbids any one, f! except an Episcopalian, to take his seat as a - ! member of the Assembly, although duly 5 elected by the votes e his fellow-citizens. ; The penalty for such presumption on the part ; of a Dissenter, was, for the first offense, two 1 i hundred and fifty dollars, and fifty dollars a J ; day for each repetition of the offense. This i j was tyranny in its worst form. There was r something mean in it, also. Half the fines 3 were to be paid over to Granville,.the Palai tine, and the remaining proprietors ; and the . other half to be disposed of by an ordinance of the General Assembly. It seems as if the J proprietors were determined, in some way or other, to make raouey out of their poor, dis seating tenants. t To farther show that the acts having for , i their avowed object the establishment of the t j Church of England in South Carolina was | not an ecclesiastical movement, a bench oi -1 high commissioners was created, who had i I granted them all the powers of the Bishop oi 1 | London, under whose control the American - ; churches were. These commissioners were 1 | granted power to cite any minister before j : them and proceed at once to try him ; and, ii r! they saw fit, to silence him from preaching. 3 This was assuming unheard-of authority. The - j names of the commissioners were Nathaniel 31 Johnson, Thomas Broughton, James Moore, -Nicholas Trott, Robert Gibbes, Job Howes, 1 i Ralph Izard, James Risbee, George Logan, 3 William Rhett, William Smith, John Stroud, - Thomas Hubbard, Richard Beresford, Robert -1 Seabrook, Hugh Hicks, John Ashley, John 31 Godfrey, James Serurier, alias Smith, and 3 Thomas Barton. 3 ! The character of most of these individuals f j is known. The names of some of them are , j covered with disgrace. The pastor of the 1! church of Charles Town testified that most of . i them were irreligious men; and we know, t i from the previous acts of some of them, that i ; they had not the fear of God before their eyes, i! Moved by ignorance and prejudices, they def termined to reduce to a state of vassalage the i greater number of the inhabitants of the col ony. The spirit of persecution is manifest in i all their acts. This bench of lay coramissioni ers met, and the Rev. Marston, Rector of St. Phillip's, was forbidden to exercise the func ' tions of his office any longer. j During this period, the dominant party i were jubilant. Every thing was working as r i they desired. A scheme far reaching and 11 malicious, although clothed in the language ; of religion, had been devised and inserted in a body of laws, which would effectually stop . | the mouths of the people and vacate the pul: pits of the proviuce. A law had been ratified i i on the 6th of May, 1703, excellent in words, i j but a goat in sheep's clothing. It was a trap i set to catch Dissenters. It professed to be an i J act to suppress blasphemy, but was proposed i ' with the mistaken notion, firmly fixed in the i minds of the dominaut party, that the Dis : seuters denied all the fundamental principles I of religion, and were only a set of vile blas) phemers. The acts passed, establishing the ; j Church of England as the church of the col1 i ony, drove all Dissenters from the Assembly, i ( and shut the doors upon them so long as this , i law should contiuue. The law for suppress incr hlflsnhemv deprived everv one who should, , ?o 1 J ? I . in haste, or from grievous provocation, speak ? a hasty word against this self-constituted olis garchy, from exercising the most ordinary 1 rights of a citizen. lie was made incapable i of receiving any legacy or gift; in one word, he was made a mere cipher. The trap was set, and the prospects, for a while, were fat vorable. But the vile schemes of a few, for the ruin of many, were soon to come to an i end. ) " After the election frauds, Joseph Ashe was 1 prevailed upon by several of the best, as well as the oldest, inhabitants of the country, to go >; to England and make a plain statement of ; the miserable condition of things in the colo1 ny. He met with no encouragement from t | John Somers, (Lord Granville.) Ashe came I back to Virginia and commenced the publii cation of the facts in the case, but died before >, the work was completed, i I The few sheets which were finished, fell, by , improper means, into the hands of the Grand ; Council, and Thomas Smith, one of the oldest s men in the colony, was persecuted because of ; the connection he held with Ashe and the other memorialists. ;; After the passage of the laws establishing ;! the Church of England as the church of the ! i colony, Joseph Boone, in behalf of himself I and many of the inhabitants, as well as some | London merchants, presented a petition to the i ; proprietors, in which they set forth their ; many grievances. John Somers treated the f petition and the petitioners with the utmost s harshuess. The Palatine refused, for some time, to call the proprietors together; and when he did call them, had no intention oi showing the petitioners any favors or remoV' ing any of the grievances of which they com plained. John Archdale, one of the proprie tors, and at one time Governor of Carolina was, from principle, opposed to the acts which the Assembly had passed. He and Somen quarreled, when Somers declared, in an angrj tone: "I am for this bill, and this is the party that I will head and countenauce." When Boone requested that he might mak< his statement, Somers, (Lord Granville,) re plied : "I will do as I see fit." The end wai approaching. The people of England wen incensed at the high-handed measure of ap pointing a lay commission, which, to all in tents and purposes, was a direct thrust at th< Bishop of London. "The Society for th< Propagation of the Gospel," which had don< much to support the gospel in the colony o Carolina, met and passed a resolution to senc no more assistance to the colony in Carolina until the clause of the act establishing a la] commission, should be repealed. Boone, thwarted in his efforts to obtain re dress for injuries received at the hands of th< proprietors, placed his case in the hands o the House of Lords. These saw in the colo nial laws respecting religion, much that wai I not ^ranted bv the original charter, and mud O "? 0 that was subversive of the English Constitu tion. The petition was examined as carefull) as the short time of the session would allow and then presented to the Queen for her ex arainatiou. In April, 1706, the whole mattei was referred to the Board of Trade. Th( lawyers of the crown declared that the acts establishing Episcopacy in South Carolina ought to be repealed, and that the proprietors had forfeited their charter, and recommended that it be annulled. All that saved the char ter to the proprietors was the fact that the) were peers of the realm. On the 10th o: June, the Queen of England nullified the en actments of Johnson, Moore, Trott, and a fev others, who composed the oligarchy of Soutl Carolina. [to be continued next week.] fPsfeUattwuis fUaitttg. BARBARITY IN RUSSIA. One of the most revolting scenes recordet in the annals of modern executions, tookplac* on the 15th of May in the Russian City o Mohileff. Six months before an altercatioi had occurred at the dinner table of the Hote del' Europe, in the same place, between tw< officers of the Second Regiment of the Impe rial Foot Guards, Col. Rampos Sojinok an< Lieut. Prizzik. The later, it appears, wa engaged to be married to the daughter of th< landlord of the above-named hotel, Anna Mi rasky. He was fondly attached to the hand some girl, and looked upon all attempts 01 the part of his comrades to flirt with her, witl undisguised jealousy. On the 2d of December, 1874, Col. Sojinol had drank considerably before going to din , ner. At the table he offered loudly to be that for the sum of ten thousand dollars Anm , Mirasky would sell her virtue to him. Lieul Prizzik, her affianced lover, was not present but a note which the girl immediately ad dressed to him, brought him to the spot in i few minutes. No sooner had hejjeaxd wha the colonel said about Anna, ttnm%e seizet a cane and admiuistered a terrible castigatioi to the foul-mouthed scoundrel. The colone tried to parry the b*ows, but the lieutenan did not cease belaboring him until his fac< presented a sickening appearance. It was one mass of bruises. /The nose of the colone was broken, and his front teeth were knockec out The cries of the chastised officer broughi the police to the spot. Prizzik was arrestee and taken to the military prison. Next daj he was court-martialed by a military comrais sion, consisting exclusively of the friends oi Col. Sojinok. The trial lasted two hours, at the end o! which the president of the court said to Priz zik : "The court unanimously finds you guilty. It sentences you to be ignominiously ex pelled from the array, and then suffer death j by powder and lead." From this sentence the doomed man appealed to the Czar. Anns I Mirasky, his fiancle, went herself to St. PeI tersburg, and threw herself on her knees be i fore the Emperor Alexander II. The latter | was deeply moved by the tearful appeals ol j the unfortunate girl, and he promised to take ; the case under careful consideration. Over ! five weary months passed, during which time Prizzik, loaded with chains, languished in jail. On the 14th of May, at length, the railitaj ry Governor of Mohileff received orders tc have Prizzik executed. At daybreak on the j following morning the doomed lover was led j out. Two burly corporals immediately fell j upon him and tore his uniform from his back, 1 They then repeatedly struck him and spit in i bis face. Staggering under the blows, he wat 1 tied to the stake, and the death warrant was read to him. He cursed the Czar loudly for I his injustice, but the roll of drums drowned his voice. Six soldiers were drawn up in lint j before him. They fired three volleys at him, k??f nAf n kulW olHi/ilr k?m Sunk an nrHpftl was too much for the uerves of the poor young ! fellow. He begged piteously that an end might be put to his anguish. The fourth and fifth volleys resulted in his receiving seven wounds. He was still conscious, and writhing ; in indescribable agony. Then a corporal ran up to him, and putting his musket against his temple, blew out his brains. It was loudly asserted in Mohileff that the first two volleys were fired with blank cartridges in order tc ! prolong the prisoner's agony. .+ THE MISSION OF THE FLY. "Why are Hies ?" has been a perpetual querj with housekeepers and persons who would take noon-day naps in hot weather. Th< , question has been answered by Mr. Emerson an English chemist, whose experiments are re ; corded in the Scientific American. In the | light of the revelations of that gentleman's j investigations, the fly assumes the position ol ari important friend instead of a pest to man| kind. Did you ever watch a fly who has just alighted after soaring about the room for some j little time? He goes through a series of ope! rations which reminds you of a cat licking ; herself after a meal, or of a bird pluming its feathers. First, the hind feet are rubbed to1 gether, then each hind leg is passed over a wing ; then the fore legs undergo a like treatment ; and lastly, if you look sharp, you will j see the insect carry his proboscis over his legs and about his body as far as he can reach. The minute trunk is perfectly retractile, and j it terminates in two large lobes which you 1 can see spread out when the insect begins a meal on a lump of sugar. Now, the rubbing together of legs and wings may be a smoothing operation ; but for what purpose is this , carefully going over the body with the trunk, I especially when that organ is not fitted for I licking, but simply for grasping and sucking j up food. Mr. Emerson states that he began his selfappointed task of finding "out whether the house-fly really serves any appreciable pun pose in the schemo of creation, excepting as I an indifferent scavenger, by capturing a fine f specimen and gluing his wings down to a rai. j croscope side. On placing the slide under the instrument, to the investigator's disgust, the i fly appeared covered with lice, causing the offending insect to be promptly released and ? another substituted in his place. Fly No. 2 i was no better off than fly No. 1, and as the 5 same might be predicated of flies 3,4, 5, (or of r n flies, as the algebras have it.) Mr. Eraerr son concluded that here was something which at once required looking into. Why were the flies lousy ? Meanwhile, fly No. 2, on the 3; slide, seemed to take his position very coolly, -; and extending his proboscis, began to sweep ?j it over his body as if he had just alighted. A ?j glance through the microscope, however, . showed that the operation was not one of self-beautification, for wherever the lice were there the trunk went. The lice were disap3 j pearing into the trunk ; the fly was eating 3 j them. 3: He took the paper into the kitchen and f waved it around, taking care that no flies touch1 ed it, went back to the microscope and there found animalcules, the same as on flies. He , bad now arrived at something definite; the animalcules were floating in the air; and the quick motions of the flies gathered them on " j their bodies, and the flies then went into some ' quiet corner to have their dainty meal, f J The investigator goes on to describe how . i he continued tho experiment in a variety of 3 : localities, and how, in dirty and bad-smelling ( ; quarters, he found the myriads of flies which 1 existed there literally covered with animal' I cules, while other Hies, captured in bed rooms ' or well-ventilated, clean apartments, were , | miserably lean and entirely free from their : prey. Wherever filth existed, evolving germs . j which might germinate disease, there were ,; the flies, covering themselves with the minute j l organisms and greedily devouring the same. *! Benefit of Pain.?Life would be a se' ries of disasters, without the warning voice of I j pain. Infancy would be maimed or perish be. fore experience could inform it of its danger. r Lord Kaimes advised parents to cut the fingp ers of their children "cunningly" with a knife, that the little innocents might associate suffering with the glittering blade before they r; could do themselves a worse injury; but if no i smart accompanied the wound, they would , cut up their own fingers witb the same glee that they cut up a stick, and buru them in a . | candle witb the same delight that they burn a piece of paper in the fire. Without pain , we could not proportion our actions to the . strength of our frames, or our exertions to its "' powers of endurauce. In the impetuosity of . I vouth, we should strike blows that would - 3; crush our hands and break our arms; we 3 | should take leaps that would dislocate our f J limbs, and, no longer taught by fatigue that | the muscles needed repose, we should contin' | ue our sports and our walking-tours till we 3; had worn out the living tissues with the same ,* unconsciousness that we now wear out our 3 coat and shoes. The very nutriment which 3 i is thesupport of life would frequently prove e our death. Mirabeausaid of a man, who was ~ | as idle as he was corpulent, that his only use "' was to show how far the skin would stretch 3 without bursting. Without pain this limit 3 would be constantly exceeded, and epicures, experiencing no uneasy sensations, would conit tinue their festivities until they met with the - fate of the frog in the fable, who was ambit; tiou8 of emulating the size of the ox. An & I eminent physician mentions the case of a gen- : tleman who had lost the sense of heat in his* ; j right hand, and who, unconscious that the - cover of a pan which had fallen into the fire i was burning hot, took it out aud deliberately t returned it to its proper place, to the destruc11 tion of the skin of the palm and fingers. This i of itself would be an accident of incessant oc1 currence if the monitor were wanting which t makes us drop such things quicker than we 2 pick them up. Pain is a grand preserver of 3 existence; the sleepless sentinel that watches I over us. II An Affecting Case.?The many freaks 1 of physical infirmity show nothing stranger r: than instantaneous blindness or deafness, or j their immediate cure. But cases of the kind f are well airth .nticated. The following is told in a Nashville paper. We recently heard a f. remarkable and touching story of a little boy, ; the son of a gentleman in an adjoining couni tTJa mm ia ttoolva np thirteen. ~ He is an IJ. Xi.10 AO vnuov w? ? interesting and promising lad. One day, du1 ring the past winter, he failed to rise in the ! morning as early as usnal. At length his k father went to the room where he lay, and asked him why he did not get up. He said it seemed dark yet, and he was waiting for daylight. His father retired, but the boy not f making bis appearance for some time, be re> turned, and said a second time? "My son, why don't you get up ?" i "Father, is it daylight?" he asked. 1 "Yes, long ago." "Then, father," the little fellow said, "I am . blind." > And so it was. His sight was gone. s In a short time his fa ther took him to Nash[ ville to get the benefit of the medical profes1 sion there; but none of the physicians could . do anything for him, and happily made no 1 experiments on his eyes. Some ladies in a > family of his father's acquaintance sought to 1 cheer him in his affliction, and one night pro posed to take him to the opera, that he might I hear the music and singing. He went and > was delighted. , In the course of the performance, all at I once he leaped up, threw his arms arouud his ; father's neck, and screamed with ecstacy? I "0, father! lean sec !" I His sight had instantly returned. Since ' then he has retained it in full vigor, except ; j that under excitement there is sometimes a transient dimness of vision. The case is one 1 of a remarkable and singular character. ? 1 Picking the Ears.?Picking the ears is 1 a most mischievous practice. In attempting to do this with hard substances, an unlucky motion has many a time pierced the drum and made it as useless as a pierced India rubber r life preserver; nothing sharper or harder than I the end of the little finger, with the nail pair! cd, ought ever to be introduced into the ear, , unless by a physician. Persons are often seen endeavoring to remove the "wax" of the ear > with the head of a pin; this ought never to i be done; first, because it not only endangers F the rupture of the ear by being pushed too tar . in, but if not so far, it may grate against the drum, excite inflammation and an ulcer which i will finally eat all the parts away, especially ,, of a scrofulous constitution; second, hard sub' I stances have often slipped in, and caused the necessity of painful, dangerous and expensive i operations to fish or cut out; third, the wax is manufactured by nature to guard the entrance from dust, insects and unmodified cold air, and when it has subserved its purpose it becomes dry, scaly, light, and in this condition is easily pushed outside by new formations of wax within. ? ? ? J86T A railway train, at a continuous speed of forty miles an hour, would pass from the earth to the moon in a little more than eight months; to the planet Venus, in seventy-one and a half years, and would reach the sun in two hundred and sixty odd years. A ray of light will pass from the moon to the earth in a trifle over a single second; from Venus to the earth, in a little more than two minutes; from the sun to the earth, in about eight mini utes. So vast are the distances, that separate 4 :'Us from these heavenly bodies, and so swiftly i does light move!