Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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" ^ ^ ? ??? ??? ^ ? ~ ^ ??^_ ~? lewis m. grist, Proprietor. j %rt |ni>fpfitbtiit Jamiln ftetospaper: jfor t(je ^jronolxon of % political, Social, ^gricnltnral aitb Commercial Interests of f|e Soutfi. TERMS?$2.50 A YEAK,IN ADVANCE. VOL. 27. . YOEKVILLE, S. C., THURSDAY, FEBEUARY 3, 1881. _ 5. ' * I j\tt #rigi??l Jtotg. Written for the Yorkville Enquirer. THE LADY OF LINTON. 11Y WALTER MORGAN. CHAPTER XU. Lady Huugerford, though burning with curiosity to find out the meaning of the strange scene she had interrupted, devoted her energies, with her usual good nature, to the task of restoring her friend to her ordinary frame of body and mind; but though Miriam, after a little while, came in a measly . 1 lire to herseir, sue appeared so suangc ouu disturbed, and spoke in such a wandering way, that Lady Hungerford arrived at the conclusion that some sudden shock had affected her reasou. Thinking it best to try and draw her attentiou to commonplace subjects, as the best means of restoring her mind to its usual level, she affected to iguore anything remarkable in the situation, and began to speak of a dinner party which she was contemplating giving within a few days. "1 came to discuss the matter with you, my dear, because I'll need your assistance in various ways," she said, vigorously plying a large fan, with which she generally went armed, "because," as she said, "she always liked plenty of air." "You see there'll be such quantities of invitations to write. I'll have to ask the whole parish, as it's in compliment to the minister. You write such a beautiful haud, and I thought you might do half." "Yes?Oh, yes," replied Miriam, vaguely, not lookiug as though she comprehended what had been said to her. "And I want you to be with me to receive them when they come. I haveu't decided yet, whether it shall be Wednesday or Thursday ; of next week, I mean, of course." Miriam gave no reply. She sat with her hands clasped in her lap, and her gaze fixed upon the floor. "Which shall it be? What day do you think would be best?" pursued Lady Hungerford. "Day ? Oh, any day. My day of doom, it should be," muttered Miriam, wildly. Lady Hungerford jumped up and walked nervously to a window. "This is dreadful," shs murmured to herself. "She is certainly crazy, and I'm afraid of crazv neople. Why didn't Mr. Hope stay to help me, I wonder? And what shall I do with her? It seems inhuman to leave her in this way with the servants. Where's that maid of her's gone? I'll riugand make her stay here, the lazy thing." She pulled the bell and a servant appeared. ' Send Lady Hepburn's woman back here to me," she ordered sharply. The maid, a meek, inefficient creature, was not unwilling to reuder any necessary service, but was quite as ignoiant as Lady Hungerford what to do under the circumstances. It was plain that Miriam was not at all herself, and her disor der seemed to increase as the evening wore on. It was now very late. Lady Hungerford, consulting her watch, found that it was time for her to be at home; but she could not reconcile it to her conscience to go and leave her friend. She fidgeted, walked about impatiently, and finally exclaimed ? "I tell you what, Lady Hepburn, I think you are looking quite ill to night, and if you'll take my advice you'll send for the doctor. Isn't Dr. Purdie your physician ?" "Physieiau ! What physician can heal the soul ?" asked Miriam, with startling emphasis. "Find me one, and I'll give him all my lands and money for his fee. Don't talk to me of physicians. There is not one living who can do me any good." "Oh dear! this is very sad," sighed Lady Hungerford. Then she bethought herself of a fresh proposal. "If you have any secret trouble, my dear? anything that you would like to talk to a clergyman about?why not send for Mr. Hope? I dare say he only went off because he fancied himself in the way." A look of despair came over Miriam's face. "Don't speak his name," she brokenly replied. "Don't speak his name! Oh misery ami ruin, why iuvolve the good and pure ?" Lady Hungerford was more and more mys tified, but that something very serious was the matter, she was firmly convinced, and she was equally convinced that her friend was in no condition to be left without some responsi ble person to attend to her. She went out and desired her coachman to drive to Dr. Purdie's and bring him immediately to the Towers, and on her return to the parlor announced to' Lady Hepburn her intention of remaining with her all night. To this Miriam made no reply. She had now risen from the sofa and was walking in an agitated manner about the room, talking incoherently to herself. Her cheeks burned with vivid crimson. Her eyes glittered with an unnatural light. She appeared unconscious of the presence of any oue, but would now and then stop and gaze fixedly, as though she saw some object | which riveted her attention, then distractedly , resume her walk. Her air and gestures had; all the appearance of iusanity ; and by the j time Dr. Purdie arrived, she was in a raging fever. . A terrible night ensued. For some hours she resisted all attempts to induce her to go j to bed, and the physician was unwilling to use force; but becoming exhausted towards i morning, she consented to have her dress removed and to lie down. Indeed, a passive attitude had become a matter, of necessity, since her trembling and fevered limbs refused longer to bear her weight. Groaning aud helpless, she lay tossing on her couch, a pitiable object, consumed by a torture which seemed ever present to her confused mind, but the depth of which those who watched her were far from being able to fathom. The doctor thought her case very serious, and spoke of a consultation on the following day. "Is there danger, do you think?" asked Lady Hungerford. "Undoubtedly, your ladyship. I have sel dom seen a more severe case of brain fever. My patient is evidently suffering under some violent mental pressure, which has brought her to tills condition. Arc yuu an uiuumic friend of Lady Hepburn's ?" he added, with an inquisitive glance. "Yes, but I don't know any more than you do what has been the cause of her illness," replied Lady Hungerford. She might have added that the worthy doctor's curiosity was fully equalled, if not surpassed, by her own. At Dr. Purdie's suggestion, an experienced sick nurse was telegraphed for, and arrived the next afternoon from Loudon. Lady Hungerford was thus enabled to resign her charge, and return to her own home. Her first care was to rest, which she did for twelve consecutive hours, and her next to pay visits amoug her intimate friends in order to discuss with them Lady Hepburn's situation. .Like many kind hearted but officious people, she was an inveterate gossip, and her account of her recent experiences at the Towers soon furnished food for speculation and comment around every hearthstone and dinner table in the parish. To add to public wonderment, came the news of the young minister's sudden departure; and though Dr. Rexford's housekeeper carefully explained its cause, and dwelt feelingly upon the emotion displayed by Mr. Hope upon the receipt of the bad news, and her own sympathy with his distress, this explanation was not sufficient to dispel the I impression that his unlooked-fcr move and Lady Hepburn's strange behavior and illness were in some way connected with each other, j more particularly as Lady Hungerl'ord had discovered them together at a time when they i had both appeared so strongly affected, on which occasion, as she did not hesitate to af: firm, Cyril's manner to her had beeu brusque : in theextieme, and entirely unlike what she was accustemtd to from him. Meanwhile, Miriam hovered between life I and death. Strange allusions escaped her j unconscious lips in the ravings of fever, to j which the hired nurse listened with philosophical unconcern, being too well accustomed I to such flights to attach any importance to , these seemingly witless words. Yet had they | afforded h::r any hint of the truth, what keen j interest and excitement they would have i awakened even in her sluggish bosom ! She j did her duty faithfully, being skilled in her profession, and not insensible to the advan- j j tages to-be derived from her present position ; j and her prtient lacked for nothing which either money or care could supply. Three days had passed, with but little apin Miriam's condition, either : for better or worse. Physicians came and went, and Lady Huugerford's carriage was daily seen stopping at the door, her ladyship never failing in her usual message of inquiry. [ Other messages came also, to the same effect I as those delivered by the Hungerford footman. | For curiosity, if nothing else, prompted a gen| eral interest now in Lady Hepburn's case. On the fourth night she seemed just a shade ! more tranquil than usual, and the nurse j hoped she might sleep. Towards midnight I she lay quiet, and the tired nurse, leaning back in her chair, glided off in the twinkling of an eye into a blissful fiap. Scarcely did she sleep, ere Miriam, opening her eyes with a start, looked affrightedly arouud. Then, as if with newborn strength, raising herself in bed, rose swiftly, cautiously, and with light footstep, stole out of the room. Passage after passage she traversed, until, leaving that part of the house with which she was familiar, she came to a back corridor which led to old Priscilla's room. Rooms, rather; for two comfortable apartments, openiug into one another, had been set aside many years before for the old dame's exclusive use, and had been retained by her ever since. These rooms were almost cut off from the main building, occupying a small wing which only had communication with the other part through the corridor befor^mentioued. Lady Hepburn had never visited them, or informed herself of their locality ; and what instinct, or impulse, led her steps in their direction now, it would be impossible to guess. Reaching the first door, she pushed it open, and entered. It was an unusual circumstance for this door to be unlocked ; for it was Priscilla's custom to keep it always fustened on the inside. But, by a singular chance, she had, on this occasion, left it slightly ajar, probably through forgetfulness, when she retired to bed. She v/as now fast asleep. Miriam gave her but a passing glance, and still urged by some irresistible impulse or disordered fancy, went on rapidly to another door, which led to the inner room. Iu this loom a light was burning, and at a table in the centre a man sat reading. His back was toward the door, which, like the other, was unfastened ; and he did not move nor perceive Miriam, as she opened it and stood upon the threshold. 'She gazes upon him, her eyes dilating with a horror that chills her blood. For even in her delirium she recognizes his figure, the turu <>f his head, the form of the shapely hand upon which he leans, though his face is concealed from her view. An involuntary gasping breath escapes her. At the sound he turns and confronts her; and as their eyes meet, she utters one loud, wild shriek of mortal fear, and falls prone upon the floor. At that piercing cry' old Priscilla awoke, and ran, in a fright, to discover what was the matter. She fouud Sir Roland bending over his wife, and trying to lift her, but his agitation was so great as to render him almost powerless. "God save us!" cried the terrified dame. "How did she ever get iu here? Sure the witches must have aided her, for I never could have left the door unlocked when I went to bed! Leave her to me, master Roland. dear; I'll get her back to her room all safe." "Oh, Pr*.?cilla, she is dying. She is surely dying," cried the baronet in a voice of agony. "Feel her hands, how scorching hot. See her poor, parched lips and sunken eyes! Poor, beautiful Miriam, how changed !" "It's the fever, of course. She's been out of her mind these three days past. But Lord help us, my jewel, you've no cause to fret over it. Go keep somewhere out of sight and I'll go and call the nurse?ignorant fool she must be, to let a crazy woman get out of her room in this way?and together we'll carry her back to bed." "Go at once, then. I'll stay by her until I hear you coming. "But you'll hide yourself in time sure?" "Yes, yes ; I'll take care of that. Go, go; she will dip if not quickly attended to." With many muttered ejaculations of wonderment aud dismay, Priscilla wrapped a shawl about her bent shoulders and hurried off through the dim dusky passages, faintly illuminated by night-lamps set in sconces on the walls. She firmly believed that the Evil One had guided Miriam's steps through their various turnings, and aided her entrance into the apartments which had hidden her secret so long; fxr nothing could persuade her that she had not locked her outer door, as usual, when she retired to rest. Some vague idea of the presence of his Satanic Majesty, even now lurking amid the surrounding shades, filled her with trepidation, and gave unwonted celerity to her steps, which brought her in an amazingly short time to Lady Hepburn's ; own chamber. Finding the nurse still asleep, j she roused her with no gentle hand, and : poured into her bewildered ears such a phil ippic as 611ed that startled functionary with , ; dismay. "A pretty sort of a nurse you must be, to | let a woman in brain-fever leave her bed and ; go wandering through the house at this time ; of night, or any other time, for that matter, and you as sound asleep as if you'd no re sponsibility in the matter at all! It was worth while sending all the way to London for such an experienced nurse. Experienced, forsooth! I just wonder what the doctor'll say when he hears about it in the rooming. Of course, if Lady Hepburn dies it won't be your fault at all." The woman was too much alarmed to be indignant., or even to make excuses for herself. Trembling for the possible consequences of her carelessness, she made all speed to re- j pair it as well as she could, by hurrying off,I I in humble silence, after her guide. Meanwhile, Sir Roland Hepburn, hanging 1 over his wife's prostrate form, was controlling | with difficulty the surging emotions which ; rent his soul. Tn all these long years of sep aration, during which he had never once, even j by stealth, obtained a glimpse of her face, he had carried its image indellibly impressed upon his memory. It had been his constant i companion iu his waking hours and in his 1 dreams. Strange, that with the knowledge of her hatred for him, and of what that hatred | had led her to attempt, no enmity towards her had ever crept into his heart. Nay, rather, the profound love for her, which after their marriage had, iu spite of her coldness, been awakeued within him, had not wavered or died out; but existed in full force still, overshadowing and blotting out from his view her great crime. He believed that at the time she had attempted to commit it, she had been the victim of a temporary madness, which she had been unable to resist or escape from ; and that if her life should be spared, the day would still come when repentance and re morse would soften her heart and atone for the past. In his dreams he even pictured to him self a future made golden by a reconciliation between them, when full forgiveness should be asked and accorded, and all the dark by gone be cancelled forever. Weakness, this, you will say?childish, inconceivable weakuess and folly ! Perhaps it was?certainly there must be few in whose breasts such profound love and generosity can exist. But that such was the condition of Sir Koland's mind was an undoubted fact. Th la rloair? and hnnp, of reconciliation was the one supreme, engrossing object of his thoughts. To,be near her who had wfonged him, whose cruel hand, in its womanly slightness and weakness, had yet found strength to strive for his destruction, he had stayed con cealed beneath his own roof, preferring to lead a hermit life, withiu four narrow walls, to seeking refuge in some distant land where discovery could not follow him. Here he could breathe the air she breathed ; could receive tidings of her daily welfare, brought to him by the reluctant Priscilla, who would fain have torn her image from his mind. One thing she had told him which he did not believe, and that was that she had found a lover in Cyril Hope, and reciprocated his love. [to be continued.] fUading. THE CONFEDERATE GENERALsT a 8ad record of their fortunes since appomattox. [H. W. Grady, in the Atlanta Constitution.] New York, January 3.?What a strange, and iu the main, what a sad history is that of the Generals who led the Confederate armies in the late war. It is a story of poverty and deprivation, lit up here and there by a gleam of good luck?but of poverty borne manfully, and of deprivation met with the same courage that led these men to the frout of their legions. The fate of the "Rebel Brigadier" at the close of the war was enough to depress the most buoyant among them. They had put everything on the turn of the sword and had lost. Property, business and all had been sacrificed in the ardor of war, and they were left, in the fierce light of fame, without any resource?expected to support a certain dignity and nothing to support it on. There was no standing array into which they could be retired with adequate salary. There was no hope for them in the thousands of lucrative offices that the Republicans distributed among the Federal Generals. Their States were impoverished and were unable to support civil establishments that would furnish offices out of which anything could be hoped for. Of course, the privates of the Confederate army were deserving of all sympathy ; but it seems to me that the Generals had somewhat harder lines. At any rate I am sure that there is no old soldier that followed the Stars and Bars that will not read with interest a kindly inquiry into the history of these old leaders and their families. I hardly know where to begin, but suppose we take the living Lees with which to open the hurried review. W. H. F. Lee, the old est son of Robert E. Lee, is living at present in Fairfax county, on a farm that belouged to the estate of his aunt, Mrs. Fitzhugh. It is a fine place ; the General is an attentive and successful farmer, and he gets a comfortable living out of it. Custis Lee, the next son, succeeded his father as president of Washington-Lee University and Jives in Lexington. He is a bachelor, and his two sisters live with hira. He has fine expectations, Judge Hughes having decided that the Arlington estate, now used as a Federal cemetery, is his by right of law. The case has been appealed, but the judgment will hardly be reversed?and the place will be appraised and payment made for it. Robert Lee lives on the old Lee estate in Westmoreland county, where he is moving along smoothly, making enough to supply his wants. Gen. Fitzhugh Lee has a farm on the Potomac, that belonged to his aunt, Mrs. Fitzhugh, and,dt is said, is showing considerable enterprise, though not amassing money. He has a flour mill, I think, in connection with his farm. The House and the Senate have a good many of our Generals, and I think, with the exceptions of Generals Cockrell and Vance, all of them find their salary very important. Gen. Vance was living very easily, and added i to his furtunes by his late marriage. Senator Cockrell, who was a brave and dashing officer, built up a lucrative practice in St. i T.mn'a hi-fnre I\p pump tn the Senate, and is well fixed. Besides these, there^re in the Senate, Maj.-Gen. Matt Ransom, who is struggling to clear his property of encumbrances that he was forced to put upon it to make it productive. Brig. Gen. John T. Morgan, of Alabama, who depended upon his law practice, which was larger in volume than in income ; Lieut.-Gen. Hampton of South Cnro- I linn, who is a comparatively poor man, though a large land owner ; Maj.-Gen. Butler his colleague, who lost all in the war and has not recovered much ; Maj.-Gen. Maxey, of Texas, j who, by the way has an independent income | from his practice, and owns a beautiful home in Paris, Texas. In the House there are many Brigadiers, and a few heavier Generals. Gen. Joe Johnston lends in rank, though his service in the House has not been brilliant. He has a fine insurance business, and his wife, a daughter of Judge McLean, had considerable property. His book has not paid him much I hear, being published under a poor contract. Alabama has done well by her Generals, having in the House Major-Gen. \V. H. Forney, who has little beyond his salary, and BrigadierGen. C. M. Shelley, who is in about the same condition. Georgia has Brigadier Gen. Phil Cook, who has a good law practice in Americus, Ga., and who has had four terms in the House. Brigadier-Gen. Dibbrell, of Teunes see, is comfortably fixed, and is re-elected to the House for his third term?and Atkins and Whitethorne, of the same State, were Generals of State troops. Virginia has Brig adier-Gen. Beale, who is doing well outside of Congress, and Gen. Eppa Hunton, who retires at the close of the present Congress, perfectly able to take care of himself. North Carolina has Gen. Robert Vance in the House, to balance Gen. Zeb in the Senate. LouLiana has Gen. Randall Gibson, who has been elected to the next House, and to the Senate also. He is a rich man, having had means of his own, and his wife having had some property. Gen. Chalmers is a represenj tative of the famous shoe string district of Mississippi, and is moderately well off. This j finishes up the list of "rebel" Generals in the ! House and Senate, I think, without omis sion. There are a number of Confederate Generals in the departments and in various service in Washington. First in the importance of his work is Gen. Marcus J. Wright, who has charge of the Confederate records, and who was looking towards a literary connection when he was offered this place. Maj.-Gen. C. W. Field,'who fought to the last day in the morning with Lee, is doorkeeper of the House, having formerly had an insurance busiuess that gave him a living, but not much more. Maj.-Gen. Lamar,, who was a brave soldier, has some position about the House, probably being in the document room. Major-General Cadmus M. Wilcox is with the sergeant atarms of the Senate, and has little fortune outside of bis position. Maj.-Gen. Sam Jones is in the adjutant-general's office, where he has a good though not a prominent place. Maj.Gen. Harry Heth, who was a classmate and great friend of Burnside, has a comfortable position in the treasury?and this closes the foil I believe of the Generals of the Southern armies about Washington in any capacity, unless Gen. C. L. Stevenson, who was former ly clerk of a Congressional committee, still holds his place. The cause of education has engaged the time and gives support to a good many of the old leaders of the boys in grey. Gen. Custis Lee is at Washington-Lee as before noted. Gen. Kirby Smith is chancellor of the University of the South at Suwanee, Tennessee, his necessities making him greatly dependent ou his salary. Lieut.-Gen. D. H. Hill is president of the 8tate Agricultural College of Arkansas, at Fityelteville, at a salary of 83,500. He has been poor ever since the war, and lost much time and money in publishing a periodical that was, however, a creditable and pure publication, and in teaching school. Brig.-Gen. M. P. Lowry has charge of a female school at Salem, Miss., and is prospering finely. Lieut.-Gen. A. P. Stewart is chancellor of the University of Mississippi, where he gets a good salary and has a fine position. Brig. Gen. Lilly is a professor somewhere, I think at' Washington-Lee University, and this, I believe, closes the list of Generals who are engaged in training the young men of the South. And yet there is Gen. J. Argyle Smith, now superintendent of State instruction for Mississippi. There are very few of our old Generals who have accepted office from the Federal Government. Lieut. Gen. Longstreetis minisister to Turkey. Col. Mosby, who won the prominence of a General, is consul to Hong Kong. Maj. Gen. Lafayette McLaws, who was one of the powers of the Army of Virginia, is postmaster at Savannah. Maj.-Gen. James Fagin was United States marshal of Arkausas under Grant, but I believe is out of the service now. I do not know of any others that hold political appointments, aud I kftlmtfA ? "O ntKawj O U VfiO f V? Ct f CX UCUCVC tilCIC ilic 111'IiC UtllCIO. Vll J Wj biivtw is Gen. Jack Wharton, of Louisiana, who took the marshalship of the New Orleans district a few years ago. The railroad business has captured its quota of the Generals and pays good salaries for light and genteel work. Maj.-Gen. John C. Brown, of Tennessee, is first vice-president of the Texas Pacific, with headquarters at Marshall, and a salary of 810,000 a year and expenses. He had money before he took this place, having had a practice of 88,000 to 810,000 from soon after the war. Maj. Geu. John B. Marmaduke, is railroad commissioner of the State of Missouri on a salary of 85,000 a year, on which he lives with dignity and ease. He is a bachelor and will probably leave his position with a competency. He stands high in St. Louis. Maj. Gen. T. L. Rosser, one of the most daring cavalrymen that ever drew a sabre, is chief engineer of the Northern Pacific at a big salary, and has made a fortune in lands along the line. Lieut. Gen. Jno. B. Gordoa is counsel for the Louisville and Nashville Road, at a salary of 814,000, 800-Gen. E. P. Alexander, the best artillerist of the array, is practical manager of the same road at probably as large a salary. Gen. R. H. Ransom was in charge of the freight agency of an important Southern line. Maj.-Gen. E. C. Walthall lives in Grenada, Miss., and is general counsel for the Mississippi Central Road at a salary of 810,000 per annum, and is well off in the world's goods. There are three of our Generals who have become chief? of police. Brig.-Gen. R. H. Anderson, a dashing cavalry officer, is chief of police in Savannah. Brig.-Gen. Tige Anderson is chief of police in Atlanta, and Brig.-Ggn. W. W. Allen is chief of police in Mrmto-nmprv Ala v... J , There is a number who have turned the swords into a plough, and are leading bucolic lives. Besides the Lees, who have gone to farming, there is Maj Gen. Frank B. Cheatham, who has a fine place in Coffee county, Tenn., on which he makes a good living. Gen. W. H. ("Red") Jackson, who married a daughter of Gen. Harding, and has charge of the famous Belle Meade farm, the home of Bonnie Scotland, Great Tom and Enquirer, and from which came Bramble, Ben. Hill and Luke Blackham. He is rich and is up to his knees in clover, literally and deservedly. Maj-Geu. A Buford has a fine stock farm that is in itself worth a fortune. BrigGen. Wirt Adams is getting rich on a Mississippi farm. Gen. Joe. Davis is farming near the famous Beauvoir place in Mississippi, but is in moderate circumstances. Lieut. Gen. Joe. Wheeler, whose wife was rich, runs a farm, does a large law practice and owns a store. He is rich/ and is becoming richer, and goes to Congress next session. Maj.-Gen. Pierce Young is farming iu Georgia, and Gen. L. J. Polk has a fine stock farm in Murray county Tennessee. There are a few of the Generals wlio hold State offices. I may begin with Gen. A. H. Colquitt, who is Governor of Georgia at 83,000 a year, and who is quite poor, although he has valuable lauds. Gen. Beauregard is adjutant-general of the State of Louisiana at S'2,500 a year?which salary is supplemented, it is said, by a salary of 85,000 from the Louisiana State Lottery of which he is com-1 missioiier. The law, of course, has its votaries. Gen. Toombs, of Georgia, who is very rich, practices law in a casual way, chiefly represent! ing the State against the railroads, volun| teering for the State. Geu. A. R. Lawton | and H. R. Jackson, both of whom are well! to do, practice law in Savannah, Ga., and I have large incomes. Maj- Gen. Bates has a ! good practice in Nushville, and is looking to I the Senate. Geu. Alpheus Baker, most eloj quent of men, practices in Louisville, where I he is coming into a good income, which Gen. j Basil Duke, who is also in Louisville, has j already built up for himself. Maj.-Gen. ! Bradley Johnston, who is said to have made : a great deal of money in Virginia State ! bonds, is practicing in Baltimore, with a big income, where Brig.-Gen. George H. Stewart | is also located, and in good shape for a flue | practice. Maj.-Gen. \V. Y. C. Humesis prac: ticing in Memphis, where he has already amassed a competency, and Brig.-Gen. C. W. I Gordon is in the same city, doing nearly as well; Gen. Clingman, of North Carolina, is 1 also practicing law and doing well. Insurance has lost its popularity with the ! Generals, although Maj. Gen. B. H. Robert; 3on, now living in Washington, has made a ! snug fortune out of it, and is driving a pair ' of Bonnie Scotland bays down the avenue? , a gallant gentleman and general favorite, i and blessed is the niahogauy under which j his legs are crossed ; Maj.-Gen. D. H. Maury is at insurance, and has done well, though J not so well as Gen. Robertson. Of miscellaneous pursuits there is a variety, i Gen. Jubal Early is living at Lynchburg, a : Bourbon bachelor, in tolerable circumstances. ; It is said that he draws $5,000 a year from the Louisiana Lottery as commissioner of special drawings; Major-General Mahone is considered rich, having made money in railroad bonds and stocks, it is said, and is now senator elect from Virginia ; Lieutenant-General J. C. Peraberton is living quietly and in poor health in Philadelphia, where he has a rich brother. He is himself in moderate circumstances. He has written a book on Vicksburg's defence and surrender, but I d< not know whether or not he will publish it. Major-General S. B. Buckner has had a varied experience. His wife oWned large tracts of unimproved real estate in Chicago, which was confiscated, but afterward recovered. It was then mortgaged and built up?and in the panic was sacrificed for its mortgage-money, leaving General Buckner poor. He is now living in Louisville. Brigadier General Zaok Deas, of Alabama, went into Wall street and made about 8200,000, with which he retired and is now living in ease. Brigadier-General P. D. Roddy, the brave and chivalric caval ryman, also made a fortune in Wall street, but lost over 8100,000 in a few days, and went to London, where he is now living as financial agent of some banking firm, in moderate circumstances. Brigadier General J. W. Frazer, who surrendered Cumberland Gap, is iu New York, in the brokerage busi ness, doing well. Brigadier-Geueral Thomas Jordan is editor of the Mining Record, on Broadway?a nrosperous paper. Major-General Loring, wno served four years iu the Egyptian army, is now engineer for a mining company in New Mexico, and is taking the chances of a big fortune. General Frank Armstrong has made a fortune by running a < ?? t i ri--" i a tir pony express in lexas, anu uenerai /v. ?v. Reynolds, who went to Egypt with Loring, is still there, though out of service. General Tom Benton Smith lost his mind, and was, at the last I heard of bim, in an insane asylum in Tennessee. It is a melancholy fact that nearly every General who died or was killed, died in poverty brought about by his devotion. Raphael and Paul Semmes both died poor. General Zollicoffer left nothing to a family of five daughters, but they have all married, save one, and have married well. General Pillow's death caused the sale of his house and library, which, however, his friends rebought by subscription. General T. C. Hindman, who was assassinated, left nothing at all. General Dick Taylor died poor, and his two daughters are living with his sister at Warrenton. His book did not pay. General "Stonewall" Jackson left his wife and daughter without means, but his name has raised friends for them, one of whom, Mr. Wade Bolton, of Memphis, I thiuk, left them $5,000 in his will. General Polk left nothing to his fami ly, but his son, Dr. Polk, has an immense practice and distinguished character in New York. General Bushrod Johnson left only one son, who is doing well, and General Forrest, who left but little, left it with a thrifty and prosperous son, who makes all that is needed. General Ewell's wife liad about $100,000 worth of property in St. Louis, I think, which was saved from confiscation by a friend. Mrs. Ewell died within three days of her husband. General Bragg died without property, and his wife lives with her sister in New Orleans. The history of General Hood's children is part of the history of the country. General Sam'l Cooper died in pov erty. Major General W. H. C. Whiting, of Fort Fisher fame, who died in Wilmington prison in '64, left nothing, and General L. M. Walker, who was killed in a duel with Marmaduke, left but little to his wife, who now lives in Charlottesville. General Tom Cobb? oh, what a cavalier was there ! left to his family but little of the fortune that his generous heart dispensed so bountifully in the piping times of peace. Truly it is a sad history! The story of men who gave their lives to their country, and left nothing to their wives but a poverty that made life a struggle. Braver soldiers never drew sword?purer men never went to battle?whiter minded men never went to death. Had the issue of the conflict to which they pledged their honor and their lives been different, a pleasanter record could have been written. As it is, the love and sympathy of a whole people will envelope their widows, their sous, and their daughters, and their names and their deeds shall be part aud parcel of the glory of the South. THE NUMBER SEVEN. "In six days was creation perfected, and the 7th was consecrated to rest. On the 7th of the 7th month a holy observance was or dained to the children of Israel, who feasted 7 days and remained 7 days in rest; the 7th year was directed to be a sabbath for all things; and at the end of 7 times 7 years commenced the grand Jubilee; every 7th year the land lay follow; every 7th year there was a general release from all debts, and all bondsmen were set free. From this law may have originated the custom of binding young men to 7 years'apprenticeship, and of punish ing incorrigible offenders by transportation for 7 years, twice 7, or three times 7 years; every 7th year the law was directed to be read to the people; Jacob served 7 years for the possession of Rachel, and also another 7 years; Noah had 7 days' warning of the flood, and was commanded to take the fowls of the air into the ark by sevens, and the clean beasts by sevens ; the ark touched the ground on the 7th month ; and in 7 days a dove was sent; and again 7 days after. The 7 years of plenty and 7 years of famine were foretold in Pharaoh's dreams, by the 7 fat and 7 lean beasts; and the 7 ears of full corn and the 7 ears of blasted corn. The young animals were to remain with the dam 7 days, and at the close of the 7th taken away. By the old law a man was compelled to forgive his offending brother 7 times; but the meekness of the last revealed religion extended his humility to 70 times 7 times. If Cain shall be revenged 7 fold, truly Lantech 70 times 7. In the destruction of Jericho, 7 priests bore 7 trumpets 7 duys ; on the 7th day surrounding tha wall 7 times, and the 7th time the wall fell. Balaam prepared 7 bullocks and 7 rams for a sacrifice; Laban pursued Jacob 7 days journey; Job's friends sat with bira 7 days' and 7 nights, and offered 7 bullocks and H mooto no Aft ot/\nnmOllf fV\r t lini r lirir>LrOfl I1PCQ ' I I utiio oo an an/uwixi\^>?v iv* n<vuvv??*vwv ^ David, in bringing up the ark, offered 7 bullocks and 7 nrtns; Elijah eeDt his servant 7 times to look for the cloud ; Hezekiah, in cleansing the temple, offered 7 bullocks and 7 rams and 7 goats for a sin offering. The children of Israel kept the feast of unleavened bread 7 days, and then again another 7 days. King Ahasunerus had 7 chamberlains, at a 7 days' feast, and sent fur the queen on the 7th day ; and in the 7th year of his reign she was taken to him. Queen Esther had 7 maids to attend her. Solomon was 7 years building the temple, at the dedication of which he feasted 7 days; iu the tabernacle were 7 lamps ; 7 days were appointed for an atonement upon the altar, and the priest's son was ordained to wear his father's garment 7 days ; the children of Israel ate unleavened bread 7 days ; Abraham gave 7 ewe lambs to Abimelech as a memorial for a well; Joseph mourned 7 days for Jacob. The rabbis say God employed the power of answering this number to perfect the greatness of Samuel, his name answering the value of the letters in the Hebrew word which signifies 7?whence Hannah, his mother, in her thanks says, 'that the barren has brought forth the 7th.' In Scripture are enumerated 7 resurrections? the widow's son, by Elias; the Shunamite's son, by Elisha ; the soldier who touched the bones of the prophet; the daughter of the ruler of the synagogue; the widow's son of Nain ; Lazarus, and our blessed Lord. Out of Mary Magdalene were cast 7 devils. The apostles chose 7 deacons. Enoch, who was translated, was the 7th after Adam, and Jesus Christ the 77th iu a direct line. Our Saviour spoke 7 times from the cross, on which he re mained 7 hours ; he appeared 7 times ; after 7 times 7 days he' sent the Holy Ghost. In i the Lord's Prayer are 7 petitions, expressed i in 7 times 7 words, omitting those of grammatical connection. "Within this number are contained all the mysteries of the Apocalypse ; revealed to the j 7 churches of Asia there appeared 7 golden j candlesticks, and 7 stars that were in the i hand of him that was in the midst; 7 lamps being the 7 spirits of God ; the book with 7 ; seals; the dragon with 7 heads, and the 7 angels .bearing the 7 vials of wrath. The vison of Daniel 70 weeks. The fiery furnace was made 7 times hotter for Shadrack, Meshack and Abednago; Nebuchadnezzar ate the grass of the held 7 years. The elders j of Israel were 70. There are also uumbered i 7 heavens, 7 planets, 7 stars, 7 wise men, j 7 Champions of Christendom, 7 notes in rauI sic, 7 primary colors, 7 deadly sins, 7 sacraj rnents in the Roman Catholic Church. The 7th son was considered as endowed with preeminent wisdom ; the 7th son of the 7th son is still thought by some to possess the power of healing diseases spontaneously. Perfeetinn is likened to irnld 7 times nurified in the fire; and we yet say, "you frightened me out of my 7 senses." Anciently a child I was not named before 7 days, not being accounted to fully have life before that periodical day. The teeth spring out in the 7th month, and are renewed in the 7th year, when infancy is changed into childhood. At thrice 7 years the faculties are developed, manhood commences, and we become legally competent to all civil acts; at four times 7 man is in the full possession of his strength ; at five times 7 he is tit for the business of the world; at six times 7 he becomes grave and wise, or never; at 7 times 7 he is in apogee, and from that time he decays. At eight times 7 he is in his first climacteric; at nine times 7, or 63, he is in his grand climacteric, or year of danger; and ten times 7, or three score years and ten, has by the Royal Prophet been pronounced the natural period of human life. There were 7 chiefs before Thebes. The blood was to be sprinkled 7 times before the altar ; Naaraan was to be dipped 7 times in Jordan; Apulcius speaks of the dipping of the head 7 times in the sea of purification. In all solemn rites of<> purgation, dedication and consecration, the oil or water was 7 times sprinkled. The house of wisdom, in Proverbs, had 7 pillars." An old friend by our side reminds us, that the war of Independence occupied 7 years, and that Burgoyue surrendered to Gates in 1777 ; so that, as Americans, we have good reason to cherish this hallowed number, and as a Christian people, to keep holy the 7th day. Lex Them Alone.?Never try to rob any one of his good opinion of himself. It is the most cruel thing you can do. Moreover, it is by no means doing what you would be done by. Crush a woman's self-esteem, and ? I- - l*"- ftnn rvnioli you II1U&U liei uiusa gmiucu guu oua^iau. Do the same to a man, and you only make him*morose. You may mean to create a sweet humble creature, but you'll never do it. The people who thiuk best of themselves are apt to be best. Women grow pretty in believing they are so, and fine qualities often crop out after one has been told she has them. It only gratifies a momentary spite to force your own unfavorable opinion of him deep into another's mind. It never did any good. Ah ! if this world, full of ugly people, of silly aud vain people, knew their own deficiencies, what a sitting in sackcloth and ashes we should have! The greatest of all things that a man can possess is a satisfactory identity. If that which he calls "I" please him, it is well with him ; otherwise he is utterly wretched. Let your fellow-beings alone; hold no truthful mirrors before their eyes, unless with a pure intention to uproot sin. So may a mirror without a flaw never be prepared for you. In those things whfbh we cannot help, may we ever be blind to our own shortcomings. We are neither ugly, no.awkward, nor uninteresting to ourselves if we do not know it. A fool may have the wisdom of Solomon in his own conceit. Let him be, and the path to the grave will be easier for him to tread ; you will be worse, he no better. Leave every man as much self-esteem as his conscience will allow him to cherish. It may be a pleasure to enlighten people as to their faults of mind and person, but it is certainly not a duty. * ? - Faith and Pluck.?At a certain Sabbath school, not long since, the old clergyman of the parish, in visiting the different classes, came to a class of four and five-year oJds be fore whom the question of faith had. just come up, and he thought to illustrate the subject to.the little ones by telling to them the story of the child who was called to jump into the father's arms, in the dark. "The father was in a dark cellar, while his little daughter, only three years old, stood upon the edge of an open scuttle, or hatchway, in the floor. She could hear her father's voice very plainly, but could not see him. "Come, my child," the father called, "jump right down. I will catch you in my arms. Be not afraid. It is your father who calls." Now, the little child could see nothing below but utter darkness; nevertheless, she trusted her dear father's yoice, and jumped? jumped boldly down into the darkness, and was safely caught into her father's arms. "Now, think of it," said the aged clergyman. "Was it not a beautiful illustration of faith ?" He saw one little, bright faced boy shake his head. "Well, Johnny, what do you think of it? Do you thiuk it required a great deal of faith on the part of that little girl to make that leap in the dark ?"' "Well?I dono; but she must a' had lots o' pluck, anyhow!" Evidently the old pastor had gained a new idea, and one which he could not dispute.? New York Ledger. Bad Manners.?It is bad manners, and it shows a lack of sense to talk in a loud tone of voice, in a public conveyance, about one's purely personal affairs. On a street car or on a railway train the passengers are often called to hear some persons?who might otherwise pass for a well bred gentleman or lady?tell of his or her doings of the day, and plans for the future, in tones that penetrate to every portion of the conveyance, and must be listened to. Private and household matters are shouted into all ears. Facts that might be given with propriety to an intimate acquaintance, but which the public have no business with, are bruited abroad ; and commonly more or less of gossip is included which ought not to have been given anywhere. This is bad manners, in that it forces the speaker unpleasantly on the attention of the other passengers, and practically monopolizes the listening powers of all; also, in that it makes public much that an innate modesty would shrink from disclosing to every ear. S?F The attempt to iutroduce Chinamen as workmen ou Louisiana plantations is said to be a failure, owing to the inability of the Chinese to endure the intense heat. Recently a good many sturdy laborers from Spain and Portugal have been introduced to cultivate and gather cotton and sugar, and so far they have given satisfaction. The agency which originally introduced these laborers has an order for ten thousand more, and it is said that one hundred thousand can be readily obtained if employment can be found for them. Shant Bite Me.?There was a fellow in a certain neighborhood in Arkansas, who was strongly surpected of sheep stealing. There were a good many cases of the mysterious disappearance of choice mutton from the flocks of the planters which were traced to his door; but, being a very wild and ingenious chap, he generally succeeded in prov ing an alibi, or some other defence which reduced the charge to a mere suspicion. At last, however, a planter riding through the woods, observed him in the vicinity of a lot of sheep. The fellow, after lookingaround to see that no one was near, walked up and deliberately knocked over the largest and fattest. At this noment the planter rode up, and confronting the thief, exclaimed : "Now sir, I have got you ! You can't get off; you are caught in the act!" "What act?" indignantly inquired the thief. "Sheep stealing I" was the confident reply. "Sir, you had better mind how you charge a respectable American citizen of such a crime as sheep stealing1" replied the gentleman with the penchant for mutton. "Now, will you deny that I saw you kill * that sheep ?" "No, sir," was the prompt answer; "I did kill him, aud I'd do it again. I'll kill anybody's sheep that bites me as I go peaceably along the road." Words of Wisdom.?You should never give advice. If the person to whom you offer it is wise he doesn't need it; if he isn't he won't take it. No man can be brave who considers pain to be the greatest evil of life; nor temperate, whe considers pleasures to be the highest good. * The passions of men of society differ as much from the passions of the natural man as the fruits of the grafted tree from those of a wild one. The keenest abuse of our enemies will not hurt us so much in the estimation of the discerning as the injudicious praise of our friends. Sense can support herself handsomely in most countries for some eighteen pence a day; but fantasy, planets and solar systems will not suffer. A man should never be ashamed to own he has been iu the wrong; which ia but saying, in other words that he is wiser to-day than he was yesterday. Don't covet the possessions of any man until you are willing to pay for them the price which he paid; then you will not need to covet them, for you can go ana get mem for yourself. The Advent of Tea.?Queer stories are told of the advent of tea in the fashionable market. The ignorance of its preparation was illimitable, and fine ladies, determined to tread closely on the heels of fashion, were compelled to take lessons in the art of brewing it. One lady, before consenting to become a candidate for culinary honors, boiled several pounds and served it as a vegetable. Another, equally stupid, set. forth her table with it as dried fruit, and naturally failed to relish it. At the tea parties in the seventeenth century, the leaves from which the tea had been drawn were handed round to be eaten, as a great delicacy, with bread and butter. To refuse was to affront the giver in this odd entertainment, and to stamp oneself an "outer barbarian" in the realms of gentility. Not so very long ago it was the general custom to carry to New England tea parties one's own cup or tea-dish. The latter curious vessel?from eight to ten inches square and an inch deep?gave rise to the phrase "a dish of tea." A Remarkable Railway Accident.? An almost incredible explanation was given of the cause of an accident ic the Scotch express, near Leicester, England. It is said that the train was stopped a little beyond the town of Kibworth, the engineer thinking something was the matter with his engine. Examination showed the locomotive to be all right, and the engineer again applied steam, bs'.fc instead of running forward the train was backed, and the engineer did not notice the change of direction until the train had returned to Kibworth station, where it ran into a freight train, but not before the engineer had applied the Westinghouse brake, and so prevented more damage than the smashing of two cars and the wounding of four or five passengers. The engineer was suspended; but it appeared from investigation that none of the train hands knew they were going backward instead of forward until it was too late to avert an accident. It was stated bv wav of exDlanation that the night rf ^ A ? of the accident was very dark. ? g&- A lady of his flock once called upon Dr. Gill with a grievance. The Doctor's neckbands were too long for her idea cf ministerial hnmility, and after a long harangue on the sin of pride, she intimated that she had brought her scissors with her and would be pleased if her dear pastor would allow her to clip them down to her notion of propriety. The doctor not only listened patiently to her lecture, but handed her over the offending white bands for her to operate upon. When she had cut them to her satisfaction and returned the bibs, it was the doctor's turn. "Now," said he, "my good sister, you must * do me a good turn also." "Yes, that I will, Doctor; what can it be?" "Well, you have something about you which is a deal too long and causes me no end of trouble, and I should like to see it shorter." "Indeed, dear sir, I will not hesitate; what is it ? Here are the scissors, use them as you please." "Come, then," said the sturdy divine, "good sister, put out your tongue." 6Sy Hogarth, the great painter, was once applied to by a certain nobleman to paint on his staircase a representation of the destruction of Pharaoh's host in the Red Sea. In attempting to fix upon the pricfe Hogarth became disgusted with the miserly conduct of his patron,, who was unwilling to give more tV>on half tliA ronl VaIiIA nf t.hfl mature. At last, out of all patience, he agreed to his terms. The nobleman was soon told that the work was finished. Surprised at such expedition, he immediately called to examine it, and found the space painted all over red. "Zounds !" said the purchaser, "what have you here? I ordered a scene ofrthe Red Sea." "The Red Sea you have," said the painter. "But where are the Israelites?"^ "They have all gone over." "And where are the Egyptians ?" "They are all drowned." The miser's confusion could only be eaualed by the haste with which he paid his bill. SGF" Tennyson can take a worthless sheet cr paper aud by writing a poem on it make it worth $5,000. That's genius* Mr. Vanderbilt can write fewer words on a smaller sheet of paper and make it worth $50,000,000. That's capital. And the United States government can take an ounce of gold and stamp upon it an "eagle bird'J?and "twenty dollars." That's money. The mechanic can take the material vrorth $50 and make it into a watch worth $100. That's skill. The merchant can take an article worth twenty-cents and sell it to^you for $1.. That's business. A lady can purchase a comfortable bonnet for $10, but prefers to pay $100 for one because it is more stylish. That's foolishness.- The ditch digger works ten hours a day and shovels out three or four tons of earth for $1. That's labor. \