Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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lewis m. grist, proprietor.! ^it Jitbepeniient Jamil]} HUtosjjaptr: Jor l|e promotion of f|t political, j&otiai, ^gricnltnral airb Commercial Interests of l|e &onljj. jterms?$3.00 a teak, in advance. vot, q.qT YORKYILLE, S. C., THTJESDAY, JULY 19. 1877. NC. 39. $bc Jdetg Itflw. A COOL MILLIONT "A cool million 1" said Mrs. Archbald, of New York, oracularly. "I know it is not less than a cool million." She was very exact, you will observe, in stating the precise temperature of this large sum of money. She meant John VVarbeck's fortune, made in Colorado, with which he was now on his way, after long years of absence, to his sister's home. There certainly never was a family in such a state of excitement over an approaching event as was ours now. Nothing else had been talked of for weeks. The only person who appeared the least bit calm was Mr. Archbald ; but then he, you know, was a nonentity. After his wife had spoken the above words, ha folded uo the letter he had been reading, " sheathed it in its envelope, and resumed his breakfast. Mrs. Archibald eyed him impatiently for some time, and then said, rather severely, "Well, Mr. Arcbbald, if you can find time to tell me, I should like to know what my brother John says. When will he arrive? Pray don't choke!" "To-morrow morning," answered the old gentleman ; "but not with a cool milliou." "Something very near it, then?only a little less." "Considerably less, my dear?a twenty-dollar note." "What! Please talk sensibly, Mr. Archbald. I hate jokes and riddles; I don't understand them." "He says he never had more than two hundred thousand dollars, and that he lost last week in St. Louis at cards. You know his weak point. He always would play. Everybody gambles at the mines. He sat up two days and two nights over the game they call faro, and left the table with fifty dollars in his pocket. When he arrives he will have about twenty. He intends to begin the world again, * and I suppose we shall have to take care of him tiH he can get an opening." Mrs. Archbald had turned deadly pale, she seized her husband's letter, and hastily read it through. Yes, it was quite true; ana donn Warbeck was coming back, after so long an absence, just as be had gone?a beggar. "Very well," said his affectionate sister ; "I'll take care to teach the gentleman that this is not the almshouse. He always was a fool; but be shall find that I am not one, at any rate." Fannie eyed her mamma with some curiosity. All the past week she had beard nothing but praises of Uncle John's shrewdness and industry, and particularly of his self-sacrifice and good sense in never marrying. "If anything should happen, ray love?he is old, you know, and has led a wearing life ? it would?would distress me beyond measure. I should never recover, I fear. But, you see, Fanny, everything?positively every penny he has?would go to you. You must be very attentive to your uncle, darling." So mamma had previously often said, and now the change of sentiment was as startling as it was sudden. Instead, the instructions were, "Your uncle has no claim upon us, child. You must take very little notice of him." Fannie was a pretty and also a good girl, and she felt much distressed at the idea of illtreating her poor old uncle; and so, when Lucius Mallory came that evening she coufi-1 ?* Kim T.nniiio wqq Vl o r flH. utru cvcijr tiling tvi kiiu. uuuuo mv? ruirer, under strong protest from the maternal head of the house, as his pecuniary prospects were at present rather dismal; but he was allowed to visit the youug lady once or twice a week, strictly as a friend, and I think it needs no conjurer to tell us that the two young people were not dreaming of any such thing as marriage. As to the ring in the little trunk upstairs, kept always locked up, where it came from and what it meant, I express no opinion. "Indeed, it would he a shame, and, really a sin, Fannie," said Lucius, firing up, for he was young and chivalrous. "If you must treat the old gentleman coolly in public?I meau before your mamma?you ought to let him know the reason in private." And this is just what Fannie determined to do. So the next morning Uncle John arrived. He was tall and high-boned, and gray, and certainly very rough in his appearance ; but he had an honest, smiling face, and a wonderfully hearty way about him, that certainly would have won the kindness and sympathy of almost anybody except Mrs. William Archbald. William Archbald himself shook hands with the old man, and was rather cordial despite the menacing eye of his wife; but she was grand and distant, and assuredly so marked in her bearing that its meaning could not be misunderstood. When Fannie kissed her uncle, her mamma's fingers tingled to inflict a certain nursery chastisement long disused ; but the elder ?ladv commanded her temper, and only said, "Fanny, you have not watered the flowers, I think." Uncle John seemed rather surprised. He had received reams of letters from his sister Clara, imploring him to pay his long-promised visit; and how he boasted to his friends of the kind hearts that were beating- with so much warmth and good feeling towards him ! "They will eat me up ?" he had said, over and over?his corded and weather-beaten face radiant with happy anticipations. "It makes a fellow feel joyous to think there's somebody cares for him. Let's wind up again, boys." I fear it was because he was entirely too well wound up that he parted with his money so speedily in St. Louis. But did he care now ? "I've a home and good friends to take care of me the.rest of ray life," he said ; and this speech considerably annoyed the gentlemen who heard it, for they remarked among themselves, "That old fogey has piles of money hidden away somewhere. What we've won isn't a drop in the ocean. Let's go for some more." But uncle John declined to play again, and nothing could persuade him to break his res ; olution. He went to bed and had a good j rest, and then, as we know, started at once for his sister's. He was surprised, as has been said, and not without cause. He really could not understand it. Had he omitted any polite form in his reintroduction into civilized society, or j was the whole matter merely fancy, after all ? \ No; certainly/that hauteur and those cola monosyllables were as unpleasant realities as ; one could experience ; and that neglect by the servant, that consignment to the stuffy little attic in the back building, that second table, j and those cold dishes?these were the grim- ! mest kind of facts. So, in a day or two, poor ! uncle John was perfectly miserable. No one had anything to say to him, and he moped in his miserable little den alone, wishing he had remained at the mines, at St. Louis, anywhere rather than have come here. But one even- j ing there was a tap at the door, which interrupted the most dismal reverie he had yet had, and who should enter but Miss Fannie! She threw her arms around the old man's neck, and began to cry a little, and he, rather j bewildered, responded by such soothing words as he could command ; aud presently she said, "Oh! uncle John, what must you think of us all ? You are treated so badly ! I am ^oing to tell you the truth, dear uncle John ; it's | mamma's fault. Lucius says it's a sin and a 1 shame, and so it i9, and I won't encourage or take part in it." i There was a good deal more sobbing; rather unintelligible and very afflicting to the listener, but the truth soon peeped out, and John i Warbeck, iu a flash, saw all. < The revelation was the greatest grief of his , life. His sister, the pretty, kind Clara of long ago, changed to this ! "She loved ray money, and not rae I" he j I thought. "It is worth a quarter of a million and more, to find out a thing like this. Now, j what shall I do about it I Faunie's countenauce soon cleared up, see- I iug he was more cheerful; and so they talked a long time in the soft twilight of that little 1 room, and she told him, as he smoothed her i pretty hair, a little secret. It was, of course, < something in regard to Lucius. She and Lucius were secretly engaged to be married. I "And you see this pretty ring, Uncle John ? 1 Well, he gave rae that?isn't it beautiful ?? ( and it's a pledge you know, of his fidelity aud truth. We are going to wait ror eacn omer ever so long." 1 And truly they were, if poor Fannie was going to wait for the accumulation of that "er-sy competence" upon which her mamma 1 insisted as a sine qua non ; but which, as yet, ' was a thing seriously projected and not begun. All this was very delightful to old John Warbeck, a poetical romance in which he in- 1 stanily became profoundly interested, to the entire exclusion of his own affairs. He got 1 up, and went over to his trunk, and took from ' that capacious receptacle a pair of old fash- 1 ioaed ear rings and a breast-pin. The breastpin was a large locket, set with diamonds; and there was a faded daguerreotype of a 1 lady in it, some one, perhaps, whom Uncle 1 John had once admired. "Yours, ray child," he said, tenderly, pin- 1 ning the gift to her dress, and placing the 1 earrings in her hand. "When you look at 1 them sometimes, you'll think of old Uncle . John, won't you ?" J These things were autique enough, it is true; 1 but worth, I dare not calculate how much. ' Fanni ^ kissed her uncle so often, between crying and laughing, that for the first time he 1 ' 1 * * * - - P ?L.! I realized ttie covetea sensation 01 uemgeuieu up." Ad(3 so she left him and slipped down 1 stairs to enow them to mamma. [ Mrs. Archbald's large eyes opened in the 1 greatest amazement. 1 "The handsomest I ever saw !" she ejaculated, with a gasp; and that evening Juhu i Warbeck was invited to sup with the family ; "to try the fried chicken 1" ( Somehow he had a sort of instinct that en- 1 ahled him to see humiliation iii anything that 1 savored of resentment; and so, he complied, ( and greatly relished the fried chicken. Fan- ? nie's little confidence, however, was not with- ' out its effect. He no longer remained moping ! in his room, but went out every morning with great regularity, and seldom returned till ! nightfall. He also became very intimate with Lucius; and whatever their secrets were, Farnie, I suspect, was not excluded from ' sharing them. ! "Clara," said Mr. Archhald, one day, to his wife, "who do you think I met in Spurrier's ' banking-house this morniDg?making a deposit, too?" "I don't know, Mr. Archbald, I'm sure." < "John Warbeck." ( "John ?" Her husband nodded. Mrs. Archbald became thoughtful, and something startling ' - * J i I MIL .4 _: _U 4 seemed to nave occurred 10 ner. mat uigin John Warbeck was agreeably surprised to I fiud that he was do longer to occupy the little back attic-room. "Why you will insist on that horrid room, John, I cau't imagine," said his sister," when < you know there are three or four vacant chambers on the second floor." "Well, Clara, it's all one to me," he au- ( swered, good-humoredly; "but, now that we } are aloue, I want to be frank with you. I've . been here for some time, and?and it"?he hesitated?"it goes against ray grain to live at any place without paying for my accommo- 1 dation, you know. I don't feel independent. Now, here's a hundred dollars?not for my t board, you know, Clara?but just as a pres- ( ent. I want you to buy yourself a dress, or i something with it." "John Warbeck," said Mrs. Archbald, indignantly, "I do not deserve this insult. Your ' home is here as long as mine is here. I felt ' honored?I felt touched, John,"she continued, 1 tears starting to her eyes, "when you wrote j that you intended to spend the evening of ( your days under my roof; and now to offer . money?to your own and only sister?who has always loved you?" Aud she quite broke down, and sobbed ( violently. 1 John put away the money, and soothed her < well as he knew how; but she left him, ap- ] parently deeply wounded. By the time she reached her husband's study, her feelings were evidently under better ' control, for she burst in upon that elderly 1 gentleman, who was quietly reading his pa- i per, with the words, "William Archbald,you ! always would have your own way, and now | see the result! My poor brother, John War- , beck, has been in this house weeks?weeks, sir?and treated like a dog ! You would have us all believe he was a pauper, though I knew from the first he was a man of enormous I wealth ! He is worth a cool million to-day if 1 he is worth a penny!" "Do you think so, my dear?" gasped Wil- | liani Archbald. trulv astonished. "I was sure of it from the first, and but for you, Mr. Archbald, would have pursued a very different course from the shameful one you have made your family follow. It was I only a little subterfuge on John Warbeck's part. His fortune is intact, and he only , wished to test us. Eccentric, wealthy people do these sort of things every day." "Bless me! Do they ?" ejaculated the old ' gentleman, in real wondermeut. "Well, let us make amends as quickly as possible. He I is not gone yet, luckily." I It will be difficult, I fear, to repair the harm ' done ; but I shall try, for our dear Fannie's sake. He is very fond of her ; that is evident from his giving her that handsome present. And whom else can he leave his money to ? I ' consider it settled upon her already ; and so, by the way, that young Mallory had better . cease his visits here. He keeps more eligible ! people away ; and now that Fannie is such a ] distinguished heiress," continued Mrs. Arch- | bald, rather sanguiuely, "She must make a . most brilliant match." "But," timidly suggested Mr. Archbald, ' "hadn't you better find out if your brother ] really contemplates leaving her all his for- ] tune? Nothing like being on the safe side, i you know." < "I shall attend to that, Mr. Archbald, as J do to everything else that concerns the iuterest of ihii family," answered the lady, with gloomy sarcasm. Thus it happened that John Warbeck was ( sent for that evening by his sister, and pressed to pass an hour or so in the parlor, listen- i lug to "dear jf anme s music, one piajo gu ; ( beautifully, John, and I think it so unkind ( that you have never expressed a wish to hear her." Poor Uncle John had never had the au-1! dacity to even dream of entering such a sa- i credspot as the parlor. However, he accepted the preseut invitation gratefully, and | Fannie played all the lively airs she knew? he liked simple and cheerful music?for an hour ; and then mamma contrived to get the ' old man alone near the window, where they could uot be overheard, and diplomatic proceedings began. "My dear girl will be a treasure to the man 1 3he marries; don't you think so, John ?" , "Deed do I, Clara ; and I fancy I can guess who'll be the lucky fellow that'll get her," . answered Uncle John, making free somewhat on the prompting of recent events. "You surely don't mean young Mallory?" ! "I do, indeed; and he's worthy of her. i He's a treasure, that young man is, Clara? i honest and industrious; and if he marries Fannie, he'll become a rich man, mark me." "What does he mean by that?" thought ! mamma. But he is so poor at present, John? j nothing but a trifling salary." "So lie may be," laughed her brother; "but j he ain't dead yet, nor is he aged. They're i suited for each other, sister, and somebody | aught to help'em to come together." Mrs. Archbald became radiant. She laid , her hand gently on John's arm, and leaning towards his shoulder, said, with ever so sly an ; emphasis, "And would you help them, John ?" "I'd be proud to do it, Clara. I tell you if i I was to see them two married I'd leave 'em ( everything I have. Now, what would you do ( for 'era, sister ?" He looked her rather defiantly in the eyes, smiling, and rather sharply, too, and it was as if he were playing his favorite game of "poker," and had just bet on a good hand. Mrs. Archbald often said she was a business woman, and let us admit it in justice. She answered, "John, if you promise to make your will in favor of Fannie, leaving ber, at your?in fact, at your decease?every!king, I will not only consent to her marriage with Lucius Mallory, but will see that Mr. Archbald shall settle upon them twenty thousand dollars on the day the wedding takes place!" "Done!" cried John Warbeck. "I want ;he use of my money during my lifetime; but it ray death, every penny I leave shall go to ^hem." And so, two months afterward, Lucius and Fanuie were made man and wife, and began ;heir matrimonial experience upon a bandlome capital. The greater portion of this Lucius invested directly in accordance with he advice of John Warbeck, who carried on i branch business in Colorado, whither he had eturned. A great deal of money was made, md things were going smoothly as could be wished, wheu poor Uncle John died. His will was eagerly opened, and it was found, . ;rue to his word, that he had left Fannie ] svervthincr. The fortune amounted to several hundred ' lollars, which he had accumulated, first by 1 irorking as a clerk while he lived iu New York i ,vith his affectionate sister (which was what | occupied him all day so mysteriously,) and, ' lecondly, by acting as Lucius Mallory's agent n Colorado afterwards. Mrs. Archbald was laturally very indignant. She felt that she 1 lad been imposed upon ; but this was not the 1 :ase, for John Warbeck had fully carried out 1 lis bargain. < Several hundred dollars you will find a | very respectable sum of money if you happen | ;o be in need, and the amount is not accessi- ^ )Ie; but, after all, it is really not quite so maglificent a thing to contemplate as "A Cool 1 Million." SHstcmr of J>. (taottna.; HISTORICAL SKETCHES 1 OF THE I Early Settlement of South Carolina. 1 BY BEV. BOBEET LATHAN. BEN. GREENE AT THE HIGH HILLS OF THE SANTEE. From Orangeburg, as we have seen, Gen. jfreene retired, with the larger portion of his irmy, to the High Hills of the San tee. Af;er the battle of Quinby bridge, the partisan eaders?Lee, Sumter, Marion and others? epaired to the camp of Greene. The principal object Greene had in view in (electing this locality for his camp, was to discipline his troops aud receive reinforcements Tom North Carolina and Virginia. The locality was also chosen with special reference ;o the health of his army. For a period of near seven months, the array of Greene had seen doing hard service on what may, with ;he utmost regard to truth, be called short radons of the most ordinary kind. Many of ;he soldiers were sick. This is not a matter :o be wondered at; but it is a matter of won. ler that the whole of Greene's army had not fallen down dead. They had marched?some )f them?from near the centre of South Carolina, across the whole of North Carolina into Virginia, pursued by two of the most dashing jfficers in the British array. From the Dan, they had marched to Camden, South Carolina ; from that point they marched to NinetySix ; from Ninety-Six, they retreated across the State as far as Chester. From that point J Lhey went to Orangeburg ; and some of them ' is far as the city of Charleston. During all ' this time, they were pressed by hunger aud privations of every kind and pursued or , watched by veteran foes. The hardships { which these men had endured and the privations which they had experienced, are almost incredible. During this time, they had fought many battles and won several grand victories. They had broken the power of the British and humbled the tories. The British had not been reposing, during this time, on beds of down and feasting on the luxuries of the earth. From the day that Greene pitched his camp on Hobkirk's Hill, the living of the British army became precarious. They depended on supplies sent them from Charleston, by wagon trains. These, the patroling parties of Greene, led by Lee, Sumter and the invincible Marion and jther partisan leaders of little less note, sellom failed to capture. After the battle of Quinby's bridge, the British made Orangeburg their headquarters. Here they felt that the condition of things bad changed. Their commissary stores had j become exhausted, and they were forced to live almost entirely on beef, which they pro > lured, at the risk of their lives, from the sur- j rounding country. Greene was master of the ! position. He had virtually rescued the State ; from the British. The tories and loyalists ; were heart broken. The Hiizh Hills of the Santee are in Sum-1 ter county, East of the Wateree river, about' five miles. These Hills extend in a Northeastern direction, nearly parallel with the Wateree river, for a distance of between fifteen and twenty miles. The climate, compar- j 3d with that of the more southern sections j 3f the State, is delightful and healthy. In j this favored region, the sick in Greene's army rapidly recovered their health, and the tired and broken down regained their strength. There is an item of historic interest connected with these Santee Hills, which we must not omit. When Charles Edward, the grand son of James II. was defeated at the battle of Culloden, his followers were placed in a most critical condition. Some of them had voluntarily joined the Young Pretender. Others, although convinced of the fruitlessness ^ of the attempt to reinstate a Stewart upon f the throne of Great^Britain, had, under the promptings of national pride?although contrary to their judgment and interest?supported the claims of the Pretender. Multitudes of the Scotch, who bad either taken up P arras in support of the claims of Charles Edward, or otherwise supported his cause, were jc apprehended. Old men, trembling with the ct infirmities of yeaito, were executed. The d< heart of George II. at last sickened, and he w granted his once rebel, but now vanquished, ai subjects, a conditional pardon. The condi- ^ Lions were that they take the oath of alle- ^ giance aud emigrate to the Plantations. Ql These Highlanders?at least, many of them? ti preferring banishment to either death or the tl humiliating condition to which they had been 01 reduced in their native land, accepted the offer of the king. To a part of those pardoned Highlanders, the region of country \ around the High Hills of the Santee was grant- oi 3d. Reaching the coast of North Carolina, at they were driven, by contrary winds, into Cape ^ Fear. Following the course of the river, they, P in process of time, occupied a large tract of 1 country of which Cross creek, afterward Caui- gj bleton and now Fayetteville, was the centre. 8} The lands reserved for these exiled Scots was of afterwards granted to some Virginians, and tc by them settled. Prominent among these jettlere, may be mentioned General Thomas ^ Sumter and General Richard Richardson. ^ rhe first settlers in the region bore the names w' jf Chillet, Furman,. Mathers and Nettlers. w Richard Richardson was a surveyor, a profea- no )ion at that day held in high repute. By him die lands were located, and some of them are itill in the possession of his descendants. Whilst General Greene lay on the High tr Hills of the Santee, his militia were thorough- fQ ly drilled. During the first years of the war w there were a very considerable number of per- ni jous in every section of the State who, as far is it was possible, remained neutral. They were neither British nor tory. From the be ginning of the contest, they had entertained ]a no hope that the colonies would succeed in as throwing off the British yoke. The history of fu past rebellions against the English govern- w ment made them timid. When, however, T these individuals saw that Cornwallis and ^ Tarleton were gone, and Rawdon, Cruger and Balfour were unable to keep General Greene tu in check, they came out and espoused the jauseofthe Whigs. These recruits, whilst they increased the number of men in Greene's w irmy, did not render it more efficient, because Jjj they were undrilled. For the short time that ^ areen remained on the High Hills ofSantee, w these new recruits were drilled, that they tit might be ready to meet the enemy. cc ?The successes of the Southern army had 1? ^" -ii ?nffontmn f\P ika ffAoopn. iireauy ttLirttuicu uiq abb&ubiuu u> Vu? tvau nent, and that the last blow might be struck md the arm of the enemy completely para- 8j lyzed, reinforcements were ordered to be sent la ;o General Greene. Baron Steuben, with a wi aody of men, was assigned to the Southern of irmy. The order was countermanded, and ?* the Baron did not arrive. A considerable ^ force was sent from North Carolina. These oined General Greene in his camp on the High Hill ofSantee. pi Whilst General Greene was preparing for a si: general engagement, the partisan leaders of bi the South, with their well tried corps, were P! larrassing the enemy in every section of the re State. Sumter and Pickens were operating igainst the tories in the up-country, whilst at Marion, Taylor and Maham, were sweeping th )ver the region between Oraugeburg and cc Charleston. The British were reduced to so to perilous a condition, that they lived at the u' risk of their lives. The British soldiers were Cf )bedient to their officers, but all hope of sub- es uiratine the State had died in their breasls, h< ind oo small Dumber of them were devising at planB by which they might desert the standard ^ if George the Third and join the Americans. ^ No doubt some of these were influenced by no )ther motive than that which impels men to p| jspouse the cause which appears to be most h< popular. Others were impelled to desert the in British standard because they believed the fr ivar was waged to establish tyranny. The 8' British officers were careful to prevent all de- r lertions, and no less careful to conceal them W( Tom the world, wheu they could not prevent wj diem. qi dc The Commander of the Turkish Squad- p< ron on the Danube.?At the outbreak of our us war, a number of wealthy merchants in Eng- ki and formed an association to assist the wl Southern cause. Commandant Hobart and til several other officers in the English navy hi were enlisted in the cause and sent to the of Southern States, where their services were jagerly accepted. Hobart landed at Charles- m ion in the Summer or Fall of 1861, and was it once assigned to naval duties. He soon be leveloped a taste for daring adventure, and or ittracted attention by his success in capturing be leveral small Union vessels and greatly it iamaging others. In the following Spring or ie was placed in the charge of blockade run- pc iers on the Atlantic Coast, where he did val- to rable work for the Confederates. He was ;oon after recalled to the Gulf, and for near- be y a year was on the staff of the admiral com- it. nanding at Pensacola. The numerous sue- of ;essful attacks upon the Union fleets and the pr laring blockade running in the viciuity are kc credited, in the maiD, to his planning and pi sold execution. In 1863 he was again put in ti< joramand of several blockade runners, and tii hen began the series of exploits which crea- eil ,ed admiration for the skill and bravery dis- fir flayed iu their execution. It is estimated co ,hat Hobart was engaged in no less than iei wenty such undertakings, all of which were be sxceedingly annoying, and, in many instances ve lisastrous, to the Union cause. Hobart was co ibout forty years age when he arrived in ra his country. He was a heavy built-roan, of ea lark complexion, and was noted for his im- he )erious bearing and the ardor with which he h? jrosecuted every undertaking. J{e went to fq England in the Spring of 186<$, on 'account, wi t is said, of a difficulty with the officers of sh he Confederate Government, He Is now the to loramauder of the Turkish squadron on the ra Danube.?Exchange. lif ? -*-+ lei Starting in the World.?Many an un- in vise parent labors hard aud lives sparingly tri ill his life for the purpose of leaving enough tu .0 give his children a start in the world, as it is s called. Setting a young man afloat with tic noney left him by his relatives, is like tying ! ze fladders under the arms of one who cannot iwim ; ten chances to one he will lose his ad fladders and go to the bottom. Teach him ac ,o swim, and he will never need bladders, m jive your child a sound education, and you hi lave done enough for him. See to it that his la norals are pure, his mind cultivated, and la lis whole nature made subservient to laws in vhich govern roan, and you have given what tii vill be of more value thau the wealth of the wi Indies. wi JWisccllaucous Reading. From the Andewon Intellgencer. FENCING "IN" vs. FENCING "OUT." The fact that wa are soon to vote upon the roposition to change the system of fencing hich has been pursued in South Carolina ora its early settlement to the present time, iduces us to present a few thoughts in advoicy of the change. We do not expect, nor esire our citizens to support the measure ithout carefully considering its advisability, ad, therefore, we believe there ought to be le fullest and most unprejudiced discussion f its merits and demerits. A system which as prevailed for more than a century ought ot to be lightly overthrown, but if, after maire deliberation, a better plan of fencing lan our present one can be discovered, every le ought to be not only willing, but anxious > adopt it. Many of the old customs of life ave given place to modern progress. A aveler would scarcely go from here to New ork by stage because that was the old way F locomotion ; neither would he take passage cross the ocean on a sail vessel because it is ie ancient manner of navigation. The same rinciple is applicable to every department ol uman action. Men are always willing to do hat is best, and old systems are constantly iving place to new and improved ones. It tould apply to our fencing as well as to any !,her subject, and if it is shown to be better > feuce in stock than to fence them out, evej voter should assist in adopting the change i the law necessary to secure the advantage. .8suming, then, that every voter is actuated f the desire to ascertain what is best for the hole county, upon this important subject, e shall eudeavor to address whatever we iay have to say on it, to the reason and not i the prejudice nor passion of our readers. The original settlers of South Carolina irae, as is known by all, from England, here the enclosure of lands to prevent the espasBing of stock, has not been practiced ir very many years, if it ever was done, and hen they reached American soil, they would 0 doubt have enacted laws requiring the ncing up of cattle had they been allowed to arae their own legislation ; but on arriving are they found themselves under the dorainn of a British Lord, who gave such local ,ws as suited his interests, and we may rest isured that these laws were framed not ir the rich and more influential. Only the ealthy at that time had cattle, and as they ere not engaged in agriculture to any conderable extent, they were willing enough to ake their tenants fence in all crops in order allow their stock to run upon the fine pasires the country then afforded. At the time when the Revolution set Carona free, the system of fencing was continued 1 it was established in colonial days, because ie cultivated fields were ready fenced, and iere was an abundance of timber to maintain nces for along time, and the pasture lands ere at that Deriod in their original perfec 3D. Thus the system arose, and has beeD mtinued to the present time. Is it wise nger to maintain it? We think not, for vera! reasons. First, the physical benefits be derived from a change of system are sry valuable. The abolition of our long ring of useless fencing would allow our woodnds to grow up, and the fencing of cattle ould give our old fields a luxuriant carpet "grass within two or three years, the result 'which would, as science teaches us, in a few iars increase the rainfall of our country, and lereby add to the fertility and productive>88 of our soil, as well as tend to prevent exemesof temperature. That all may com ehend this, we have but to illustrate by a tuple example. If a person blows his eatb, which is a hot current of air, upon a ine of glass, which is a cold substance, the suit is that moisture is formed and settles pon its surface. So, if large forests are growg in our country, when the hot currents of mosphere are passing over in the summer, iey will, by coming into contact with the >ld surface of forest leaves, be condensed inshowers; and when our fields are growing p with grass, much of the rain which falls ill be retained instead of rolling off to the eeks, and the tendency of its retention and raporalion will be to lessen the extremes of 3at, which we sometimes have in summer, id which have beeu noticed to increase as ie clearing up of the country has progressed, his would be of advantage to all planters by curing, to some extent, an increased produceeness of the soil planted. Another of the lysical benefits would be the increased faithfulness of our climate. Persons who lagiue that malarial fevers arise entirely om unditched creeks and ponds, make a very -eat mistake, for it is a matter of experience at these fevers have been gradually extendg as the country has been cleared. If they Bre not caused by the clearing of timber, by is it that the mountain oreeks, which frelently accumulate large quantities of debris, > not cause fevers? The correctness of this >sition is attested by science, which teaches i the connection of the animal and vegetable ngdora8. Men, in respiring, give off carbon, bich, if taken into the lungs again in quan;y, is destructive of life. Trees and vegetae growth absorb this noxious gas, and give r in large quantities oxygen, which is most scessary for man. Of course, we do not ean to say that malarial fevers cannot exist bere there is a growth of forest; but we do slieve that they would be very rare, and 11v tn hfi fnnnd when* evident causes over ilance the proper equilibrium. We believe would pay to chauge our fence system in der to take care of our timber, for the pur>se of protecting the health of the county, if r no other reason. Secondly, we favor the change because we slieve the necessities of the country demand Another century, yes, another fifty years, such destruction of timber as has been acticed in the same period of the past to :ep up our present system of fencing, will ace this State in a very deplorable condi>n. There will be very great scarcity of nber,and it will be almost impossible then Lher to keep up a pasture fence or to obtain ewood. If we are wise these things must be nsidered. We have no coal fields convenQt to our section of country, and if our timir should give out, fires would become a iry expensive item. Even if coal for fuel uld be had at reasonable figures along our ilroad lines, our farmers would find jt very ipensive and troublesome tQ haul it to their >mes. The iqiudipious destruction of timber is already made many sections almost destite of board trees, and a few more years of iste will render the purchase of boards or ingles to oover houses, a considerable item our farmers. The present land-owners ay have enough timber to last during their 'e time, but do they wish to use it all up and ave their children and grand-children nothg but land, without even firewood or a board ee on it? If we wish to provide for the ftire nrosneritv of this country, the stock law ' I 1-# -- f ' t a necessity, and the sooner it is put into ac>n the better it will be for all of our citi08. Thirdly, we favor the law, because it will Ivauce, we believe, the iuterest of landlord id tenant, of the rich man and the poor an. It will benefit the landlord by saving s timber and enabling him to improve his nd. It will also enable him to have more ud cultivated than he now has, and thereby crease his yearly income, and, at the same ue, lessen his expense about fencing. It ill benefit the tenant in several ways, jfle ill be saved the rail splitting] hauling and mending necessary to keep up a long string of fencing on the landlord's premises, and can spend his time in preparing compost and more thoroughty preparing his land for the crop ; and if this time is properly occupied, he can make enough additional crop to each field 1 hand to support one cow for a year. He ' could also select the best ground on the plan* tation, without regard to having a fence around it, and thereby be greatly the gainer in many instances. He would also find that by cultivating the land now occupied by fen! cing, he would be able to realize very handsome yields for two or three years, even with1 out fertilizing. By the best of estimates, it is said that if the land now occupied by fences in this county, was planted in corn, it would 1 yield enough to supply the whole county. Another way in which the teuant would be >' hfinpfitted is. that he would be aole to sow a larger amouut of small grain, for as be could 1 plant without fencing, be could put in wheat 1 and oats to a larger amount in the fall months and oats in the spring, and then work a full crop of corn and cottou besides. The result of this would be to advance the interest of 1 both landlord and tenant. The fear expressed 1 by some that rent would advance is without [ foundation, for the amount of land that could be cultivated would be increased, and as the 1 number of tenants would be the same, the tendency would be to rent lands cheaper. ; The pasturage question is not so serious as it at first appears, for one acre to the head of cattle, properly cultivated, would keep them in splendid order, and the increase of butter 1 and milk, or of meat, would pay for the cost of keeping them up. An ordinarily good cow, if allowed to run at large, does not give 1 more than a gallon of milk, and will not keep up to that amount long; but if put up 1 and cared for, it will give about three gallons ' a day, which would furnish milk and butter for a large family, thereby saving meat and affording better living, which would pay of 1 itself for the trouble and cost of keeping up. ! Cows which run at large, in a great measure, exhaust themselves in hunting up poor food. If the change is adopted, the amount of stock will be reduced, probably, at first, but the 1 half of what we now have would be worth a 1 great deal more thsn all as they are. Hogs and sheep being c?.red for, would become much more productive, and the yield from them would be much more profitable ?"* *-4 A no nil fUia fon a nfa tllQU HI* prCOCIl U JJCSIUCQ ail tui(3| bvuuubu ' raust remember that land-owners are to furnish their stock pasturage, and if they cannot get satisfactory terms from one man they can from another. It will also benefit thrifty and industrious tenants by enabling them to purchase, and become land-owners. A great many persons would be willing to sell off portions of their farms upon reasonable terms, if they had woodland enough to spare. If the fence law is changed, a tenant could then secure land for himself, and by economy, for a few years, save up enough to pay for it; while under the present system he cannot buy because men will not sell their timbered lands, and cleared land cannot be used now unless it'has woods sufficient to erect and maintain a fence around it. Fourthly, we favor the change because it would be of social benefit by removing a fruitful source of discord between neighbors. If the fence system is changed, the contentions about poor'fences, and the differences about joining line fences would be removed. These troubles have not been very serious in the past, but they are increasing, and will continue to increase as timber becomes scarcer. These are some of the reasons why we advocate the change, for as will be seen from them, it is a measure calculated to advance the prosperity of our whole people, without any class distinction whatever. THE SOUTHERN BLACKS. Negro Civilization Retrograding, Especially Where Negroes are in the Ascendant. Northern people, who judge of the negro race by the few specimens of intelligent colored barbers and waiters they see at home, always have their theories as to the condition and capabilities of the race suddenly unsettled when they study the pure African types of the plantation?ignorant, ragged, dirty blacks, with countenances so brutal as to be repulsive, and persons and clothing so disgusting and odiously unclean, that their presence is insupportable. However enthusiastically one may favor the principle of equal civil rights, lie does not want to ride in a railway car with such creatures as these. Fortunately he is not obliged to, for they go into the cars provided for them of their own accord, and seem to have no desire for the company of the whites. Occasionally, a respectablydressed colored man or woman rides in the same car with the white passengers, no one objecting. Color prejudice appears to be slowly giving way, but the prejudice against olose association with such dirty, bad-smelling people as are the majority of the plantation negroes, may be expected to continue for all time. The whites at the South say that all negroes will steal, but this is an extravagant generalization, for every white man or woman who repeats this common saying will, if questioned, admit to having known colored people who were scrupulously honest. Nevertheless, if cnnnnt ho rlonioH f.hat fhp hlapks. as a class. are much more given to stealing than the poor, ignorant whites. Southern prisons and penitentiaries are full of negroes, and in more than one Southern State there is a serious agitation in favor of reviving the wbipping-post as a punishment for theft, to relieve the community from the heavy burden of supporting so many prisoners. I have found convincing evidence that the heavy preponderance of blacks over whites in the county jails and State prisons is not the result of any unfairness on the part of judges and juries in the trial of the former. In addition to proofs of this given in former letters, I may cite the Mississippi State prison, which, under Republican administration, had on its rolls about 1,000 convicts, only one-tenth of whom were whites, and now has about 2,000, (effect of improved administration ofjustice,) but shows no change in the proportion of blacks to whites, ten to one being still the ratio. In most of the old slave States, a large number, not all, of the convicts are hired out to contractors for work on railroads, levees and plantations, The system is not a good one for correction and discipline, but the States are too poor to build prisons large enough to bold all the negroes guilty of grand larceny. It may well be doubted, as I said before, if, oq the wnole, the negroes are making any substantial progress. They are in the best condition in sections where the whites predominate ; while in regions where the black population is proportionally heaviest, they are barely one remove from African barbarism. They speak the English language and profess a religion that is nominally Christian, but in their ways of living they are essentially barharians still. To give them political ascen danoy over the whites was the most horribly grotesque experiment ever tried in the science of government. The only hope of their getting forward in the path of civilization, with anything like rapidity, lies in the prospect that the tide of emigration will soon be deflected from the West to the South, and the whites, thus reinforced by large numbers of settlers from the Northern States aud Europe, will become as dominant in numbers as they are now in jnte}ligenoe. The negro appears capahle of originating and developing no fruits of civilization from his own nature; the white man must sow the seed,?& V. SiqA.Li.EY, in N. T". fribww. Hardening Steel.?As the hardness depends on the quickness with which it is cooled, i there are better materials than water, which, besides, gives an unequal temper, the steam bubbles developed interrupting contact. Another thing, water is a bad conductor of heat, i and if the bubbling and heat did not put it in motion, it would be unfit for hardening. Water, with plenty of ice in it, gives it a harder ' temper; small tools may be stuck into a piece , of ice, as jewelers and watch-makers insert them into a piece of sealing wax. Oil is also used by them as being better than water, as it does not evaporate so easily. The Damascus steel blades are tempered in a strong current of cold air passing through a narrow slit. This gives a much more uniform and equal '? ?... .1 i _ir temperament {nan water. x>ut toe must eueui tive liquid is the only liquid metal?mercury. This being a good conductor of heat?in fact the very best liquid conductor and the only cold one?appears to be the best liquid for > hardening steel cutting tools. The best steel, when forged into shape and hardened in . mercury, will cut almost anything. We have ' seen articles made from ordinary steel, which i has been hardened aud tempered to a deep ; straw color, turned, with comparative ease, with cutting tools from good tool steel hardened in mercury. Beware of inhaling the i vapor while hardening. Advantages op Crying.?A French phy sician is out in a long dissertation on the advantages of groaning and crying in general, and especially during surgical operations. He contends that groaning and crying are ' two grand operations by which nature allays , anguish; that those patients who give way to their natural feelings, more speedily recov, er from accidents and operations than those who suppose it unworthy a man to betray such symptoms of cowardice as either to groan or cry. He tells of a man who reduced his pulse from one hundred and twenty-six to sixty, in the course of a few hours, by giving full vent to his emotions. If people are at all unhapdv about anvthing. let them go into their rooms and comfort themselves with a load boo* boo, and they will feel a hundred per cent, better afterward. In accordance with the above, the crying . of children should not be too greatly discouraged. If it is systematically repressed, the result may be St. Vitus' dance, epileptic fits, or some other disease of the nervous system. What is natural is nearly always useful, and nothing can be more natural than the crying of children when anything occurs to give them either physical or mental pain. Don't Worry About Yourself.?To retain or recover health, persons should be relieved from anxiety concerning disease. The mind has power over the body?for a person to think he has a disease will often produce that disease. This we see effected , when the mind is intensely concentrated upon the disease of another. We have seen a person seasick, in anticipation of a voyage, before reaching the vessel. We have known people to die of cancer in the stomach, when they had no cancer in the stomach or any other mortal disease. A blindfolded man, slightly pierced in the arm, has fainted and died from believing he was bleeding to death. Therefore, persons should have their minds diverted as much as possible from themselves. It is by their faith that men are saved, and it is by their faith that they die. As a man tbinketb, so is he. If he wills not to die, he can often live in spite of 'disease; and, if he " ? *mnnf f a lifn Kn mill din UCUJ inuo U1 UU abiouuiuouv %/ iiiV) uv nil* snj/ away as easily as a< child will fall asleep Men live by their raiuds as well as by their, bodies. Their bodies have do life of themselves ; they are only receptacles of life?tenements for their minds, and the will has much to do in continuing the physical occupancy or giving it up. ? 4 Sensitive.?Most children are sensitive, and it is wrong to wantonly wound their feelings by censuring them too harshly for their faults. Time cures a great many thingsy children outgrow infirmities and faults, and if right principles of action and feeling ark instilled gently, constantly, wisely, the re- \ suits will ultimately appear. It is mere cruelty to make the weak points of a child a source of teasing and ridioule, as is often done in schools and families. A mental infirmity should be treated as tenderly as a bodily deformity. A quick temper, an irritable or timorous or teasing disposition, requires far more tact and judicious management, than mere physical infirmity. When grown to maturity, our sensitive children become the poets, musicians, artists, writers, leaders of their times. Help them, too, with their tasks, which to many of them seem hopeless, uerinitions are bard to remember; the geography lesson is difficult to comprehend and won't stay fixed in the mind ; history is dull and dead ; arithmetic a hopeless tangle of figures, and grammar more puzzling than any possible conundrum. The little folk need help; they need cheer and encouragement, and who should be so ready, so willing, so able to give as the parent? Wise Maxims?Mr.. John McDonough, the New Orleans millionaire, has engraved on his tomb a series of maxims, which he bad prescribed as the rules for his guidance through life, and to which his success was mainly attributable: "Remember always that labor is one of the conditions of our existence. Time is gold; throw not one minute away, but place each one to account Do unto all men as you would be done to. Never covet what is not your own. Never think any matter so trifling as not to deserve notice. Never give out that which does not first come in. Never spend but to produce. Let the greatestorder regulate the transactions of your life. Study in the course of life to do the greatest amount of good. Deprive yourself of nothing neccessary to your comfort, but Htm in hnnnrahlfi simnlicitv and frucralitv. Labor, then, to the last moment of your existence." ? ? 86?* Some years ago there was a protracted drouth, and an old lady in the country was afraid her garden would come to naught for lack of rain. One day a Methodist minister came along and paid her a visit, and she requested him to pray for rain, after relating her fears about her garden. The good dommie at once offered prayer, and most fervently asked the Lord for refreshing showers to baptize the earth. Shortly afterward he.left, and during the night there came up a tremendous thunder shower, as if the very flood gates of heaven had been let loose. The good old lady's garden happened to be on a side hill, and the earth being loose, the flood of water washed it bare of all vegetation. When mornI inn. noma on/1 a Via nioimi tha ruin wrrtiiorht. I lug V/nuiV) uuu uuv Tivnvu v??w *? ?? v-gj ? by the rain, the old lady vehemently ejaculated : "Jest like them pesky Methodists?they always overdo things I" + ? 0 Brain and Muscle.?Men who use their muscles imagine that men who use their brains are strangers to hard work. Never was there a greater mistake. Every successful merchant does more real hard work in the first ten years of his business career, than a farmer or blacksmith ever dreamed ef. Make up your mind to work early and late, if necessary, that you may thorougly master every detail of the business upon which you purpose to enter. The habit of persistent, rapid work once formed, you have gained a momentum that will carry you very successfully through many a pinch in business where a less persistent worker would find it vastly ' easier to lie down and fail.