Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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j^^Kwis >i grist, proprietor. ' ^n Jifoptnlitnl ^amib gtttospajrtr: /or i|e |ronto&n of fj|t |dititai^raal, ^tntoral ani^Cra^ial Jitt^s of fjre Swf^(tebi^^SO Ami,K ADYAHCE. YOL. 27. ^ YORKYILLE, S. C., THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 17, 1881. NO. 7. JU ?rigwal Jtotg. ^ Written for the Yorkville Enquirer. L THE LADY OF LINTON. BY WALTER MORGAN. CHAPTER XIV. When Miriam recovered from her death* like swoon, after being carried hack to her bed on the night of her visit to her husband's "room, she gazed fearfully around her, as if in / expectation of seeing some dreaded object. Theu looking earnestly at the nurse, who sto ul anxiously watching her, she asked iu an apprehensive tone ? "Where is it? What have you done with it ? Is it g ne ? "There's nothing there, dear lady," sooth i-i.i <.?P! ? ?_ ....u . i.. ingly repnea me nurse. " meres uuuuuv in tl e room but only me! Sec!" and she drew back the lace drapery from the head of the bed that her patient might the better satisfy herself of the truth of her assertion. "But it was there," rejoined Miriam ; "or did I see it somewhere else ? I know you are deceiving me." "Indeed and I am not," emphatically answered the nurse. "What would I deceive you for? Ain't I put here to take care of you, and would I let anything come to trouble you ?" "Ah ! but over such things you can have no power. Listen!" Miriam lowered her voice almost to a whisper, and clasped the attendant's wrist as she spoke. "I tell you 'twas from the spirit world. It was nothing of fieSh and blood. Didn't I see it plainly? just as plainly as I see you now ? It stood? no, sat. I remember'twas sitting?and turned its head, and fixed its eyes upon me? thus!?and moved its hand, as if to touch me. O, it will come again?it's coming now ! I see it! Save me?save me!'' And shudder ing violently, she hid her face, while holding the nurs-'s wrist in a convulsive clutch, as if afraid to let her go. That functionary?Mrs. Netherby by name?decided within herself that her pa tient must have seen, or fancied that she saw, something during her nocturnal ramble, which had made so vivid an impression upon he>fancy. She used all her endeavors to sooth Lady Hepburn's excitement, but the idea which had fixed itself in the mind of the latter was not to be banished. She kept con stantly recurring to the recollection of what she had seen, asserting that it was a spirit sent to warn her of her approaching doom. "I kuew 'twould come some time," she said, "and dow the time has come. All these years I have dreaded it?have thought of it, and dreamt of it, and waited for it! I have seen it sometimes?in the dead of the night? when all was darkness and silence around me; but then not plainly, not in reality. 'Twas only a foreshadowing of what was to come. It was changed, too. Its hair was so gray ! Does the hair turn gray in the spirit world ? Tell me, do uot spirits remain always young ?'' * "Lord save us! my lady ! I don't know nothing about spirits," rejoined Mrs. Netherby, uncomfortably. "You must talk to the minister about such things." "The minister! What minister? Not him? not Cyril. He has left me?poor boy I Poor boy ! it's far better that he has gone. I shall never see him again, no, not here nor hereafter, for lie will go among the good and pure when he dies. Will I see my husbaud after death?after my death? Or will the gulfj between us be too wide ? Ah ! there's torment, torment waiting for me. See the flames?the cruel, cruel flames ! They light up the vault that was so dark. Now you can look down I Down, down, so deep?as deej) as Hell! He is there?at the bottom. He never even groaned. He is quite dead. Do you see his bones? Look, look quick and tell me. I'm sure there can't be anythiug left now but bones, after so many years. Rats?are there rats down there ? Ugh, the horrible things ! How they spring and crawl! Poison for the rats?poison for my soul. Yes, poison! And there's no autidote. It's eating my soul away. Is it poison, or is it rats?rats from the dark, dark vault, gnawing and tearing at me? Ob Heaven, what pain ! wfiat torture ! There is no salvation?none. Take them off?take them off! Oh pity, pity me, whoever you are. Rub that word out that's blazing before me there in the flames. See, see how the letters dance up and down ! Murder?that's what they spell! Rub them out?rub them out!" "She's worse than ever," muttered the at tendaut to herself. "I never heard her mix up so many things together before. It would be a comfort if I had some one to be with me in the room?it's awful louesome here. I never was in such a lonely house before as this seems to be. No relations, 110 frieuds, nor nothing?not even the servants seem to come around. There, there; my lady, don't fret so. Turn over and try to take a little sleep. Can't you just shut your eyes and keep quiet a bit?'' After some hours, during which the doctor came twice, finding his patient in a very critical state, her ravings ceased, and a stupor, the result of total exhaustion, ensued. Dr. Purdie declared this to be the crisis of her disease. Before another day dawned her fate would be decided. "Will she get better, Doctor, do you think?" asked the uurse. "I c-au't say, my good woman. The odds are against her; but she has a powerful constitution. Watch her carefully, aud if any change occurs send for me at ouce. However, it's not likely that there will be any before I return. In an hour or two I'll be here again." All through that long day, Miriam lay as 1 if dead. The fever had left her, and with it was gone all the fictitious strength with which it had endued her. White as the white drapery of her couch, with worn, wasted features, and deep purple rings about her closed eyes, she lav utterly prostrate, without motion, without any sign of life. The nurse believed lu r to be dying. The doctor, at one time, believed so, too. But she did not die. With the dawn ol the next day, the crisis passed ; consciousness returned, and she opened her eyes, once more, rationally upou the world which had so nearly slipped away from her grasp. All that now remained to be done was tc build up her wasted strength. But though she had no relapse, and her convalescence soon seemed assured, she was a prey to a mel ancholy so deep, so profound, that nothing had any power to remove it. "It's because she's so lonesome," the nurse suggested, when talking to Dr. Purdie on the subject. "She's got nobody to cheer her up poor soul. When folks have been ill, the} need a little cheerful company to amuse them or they'll never get their spirits back." "We'll have Lady Hungerford here to se< her," said the doctor. But Lady Hungerforc was not at home?she had gone off on a visii to some relatives in town. There was no another soul in the parish who was on suf ficiently friendly terms with the invalid t< care to come to her at such a time. One night, as Mrs. Netherby, who nov felt privileged to indulge herself a little, wa napping 011 a lounge near the bed, she wa awakened by bearing her name faintly called "Yes, my lady," she cried, starting up "What is it I can do for you ?" "Do you know of an old servant in thi house?a very old woman?named Priscil la?" Miriam asked. "I've seen an old woman, my lady ; small and bent, with very gray hair, and walking with a crooked stick. Is it she you mean ?" "Yes ; I suppose she's the one. Can you j bring her to me ? I want to see her." "If I can find her, my lady. I don't rightly know where her room is. Will I go look for her now ?" ; "Yes, now. I want to speak to her at once." Shiveringly f-nd reluctantly?for the night , was chilly, and the lounge, with its wooleu rugs, very comfortable?Mrs. Netherby wrapped a shawl about herself and started on her quest. Following, as well as she could, the direction she had taken on the night when she had gone to bring Lady Hepburn back to her room, she managed, after i several false turnings, to reach the corridor leading to old Priscilla's room. As she approached the latter she saw, to her surprise, through the crack of the door, that a light i was still burning ; and when she knocked her j summons was immediately answered by the I old woman herself. j "Is your name Priscilla?" asked the nurse. "Aye, it is that. What do you want of me." "Lady Hepburn is asking for you." "For me t" rejoined Priscilla, incredu lously. "Yes ; she wants you to come her at once." j The Lord preserve us! Is she in her right ! mind C | "To be sure she is," answered the nurse, I testily; for she had not forgotten the lecture the old woman had bestowed on her on the ! occasion of Lady Hepburn's escapade, and was disposed to be resentful. "I can't stay ; here talking all night. Shall I tell her you ; are corning, or not ?" "You needn't trouble yourself to tell her j anything. I'll be there before you have time to talk much," was Priscilla's grim retort. Mrs. Netherby hurried back, and informed Lady Hepburn that the old woman would be there directly. "Stay," said Miriam. "When she comes, I wish to speak to her alone?quite alone. I have something of importance to ask her." "Certainly, my lady." "You will please go into the next room, and lock the door; and when I want you | again I will ring the little bell that stands on the table near me." "Certainly, my lady." "You'll find a sofa in there. You can lie down and rest yourself until you hear me ring." "Very well, my lady, and thank you." This arrangement was scarcely completed, ere Priscilla arrived. Mrs. Netherby duly retired, and Miriam, finding that she and Priscilla were alone, signed to the latter to come near the bed. "You know," she began, when the latter, obeying the sign, had drawn close to her, "you know that 1 have always hated you, and that you have hated me as well. Is not this true?" -- ? i * ?? -1 ? /* 1 _ "Aye, my lady, was me oriei repiy. "Well; it is not from any love toward you that I have sent for you now. But I have been very ill lately?at the point of death ? and have had strange doubts which I want you to clear up." "If I can, my lady." "Do you swear to me, whatever I shall ask you, to answer me only the truth ?" "I have never yet told a lie, Lady Hepburn. It would shrivel my lips now to utter one," was the lofty reply, as the old woman drew her bent figure up. j "Sit down," said Miriam, pointing to a chair. You are too old to stand." I "No, my lady, I'm not too old to stand, if [ you please." "Do as you like. Answer me now?and remember, before God, you are not to deceive j me?do you know what happened to my hus! band, Sir Roland Hepburn, over ten years j ago?when he disappeared ?" "I do know," unhesitatingly answered Priscilla. Miriam shuddered. "How do you know?" "I was there at the time, and saw." { "Do vou know whether he lived or died ?" "1 do." "Is he living now ?" "He is." "Where is he?" Priscilla paused before replying. "I cannot tell you that," she presently said. "Why not?" "Because I've sworn not to." "You know where he is, then ?" Again the old dame was silent. "J see that you do. Well, you must take a ! message to him from me. One night I had a ! strange vision. I thought I was walking about somewhere, in this house, and came to a room that I had never been in before; and there I saw him sitting beside a table reading. He turned round and looked at me, full in the j face. I don't know what followed ; but his j image has been present to tuy mind ever since. | I know, at the time, I thought it was his ghost; but now I think differently. I believe ! that it was my husband himself, actually, I whom I saw ; and I believe he is in this house. j I cannot rest until I see him again." "What do you wan't of him, my lady ?" A doubt, a suspicion, which she could not resist, made itself apparent io Priscilla's look , and tone. Miriam laughed?a short, bitter laugh. "Do you thins I would try to injure him j now ? Look at me. Look at these hands," ; and she lifted h.;r wasted, trembling fingers, j which dropped again at her side. "Is there strength enough in them, do you suppose, to harm any one, even if I chose to try ? Bej sides, let me tell you, old woman, since I saw I you last I have been in torment?aye, the torments of the damned. The memory of j the past has consumed me like a fierce, never i dying flame. It still consumes me. It is | destroying my life, and will destroy my , reasou beforehand, if I can't atone in some ?way. I want t"4 see my husband, to assure ! myself that he > really alive and well, and? I and?to ask his forgiveness." The last won , spoken with an effort, was j barely audible; and Miriam, exhausted from | talking as muci as she had done, turned aside ! her head and ley with closed eyes in silence, f Odd changes, odd contortions, passed in i; rapid succession over the old woman's wrink, led features. Whether caused by doubt, sat* isfaction, amazement, at what she had heard, or a disbelief that she had heard rightly, it ) would not be easy to decide. She muttered i something to herself, at the same time raising ; her eyes and crossing herself on the breast? she was a devout Romanist?and finally, afj j ter a long reflective pause, rejoined? "Well, my lady. I'll find a way to let Sir ; Roland Hepburn know what you'.ve said, and i I'll tell you, afterwards, if he's filling to , come. If so be that the Lord ha3 really r touched your heart with repentance, why, we , must he thankful to Him for his mercy, which does show itself in sudden aod unexpected i1 ways. Shall I go, now?" 1 "Yes," formed itself, rather than was utt tered, on Miriam's pale lips, t Still muttering and ejaculating to herself Priscilla hastened with trembling steps to ) her own apartments. In the inner one ol these she found her master, waiting in anx t ious expectation for her return, for he was s aware of the summons she had received, s | " Well?" he eagerly exclaimed as she entered .{ "Well, ma>ter Roland, jewel, it's strange >. news I'm bringing you. Maybe the Devil i has got tired of working his wickedness st s | long. Anyhow, I've a message to you from - your wife to go to her. She wants to speak I with you." "With me!" #A deep flush swept over the ' baronet's pale face. "She knows, then, that i I am living?" he asked in husky tone9. "Aye?she'd guessed it before; and I ' couldn't disguise the truth." "And she wants me?summons me of her own accord. Heavenly Father, I thank 1 Thee!" exclaimed Sir Roland, devoutly raisi ing bis eyes. "Oh Priscilla, have I not often i told you that a day would come when the dreadful past would be cancelled, and the I breach between us be healed ? I knew that i her heart would not always remain obdurate, j I will go to her at once. Is she prepared for i my coming?" "I told her I'd let her know when to ex! pect you. Better let me go first." "Go, go then, quickly, my good nurse. Ask i her if I may come without farther delay." i "Suppose you follow after me, master Roland. That will be the best way." A minute later found them both at the door ! of Lady Hepburn's chamber, Priscilla entered, while her master, trembling with anxI ; 1 r.. _ < ?... leiy, remtuneu uuisiue. hi a icn iuuiucuu she returned, and bade him go in. With noiseless steps, his heart throbbing so violently that he could scarcely breathe, the baronet entered and approached the bed. Miriam, lying white and still, gazed at him as he drew near. Her eyes, looking larger i and darker from the contrast with her thin, I colorless face, shone like luminous stars, and ; something of fear mingled with the eagerness j of their gaze. Silent and trembling, he sank j upon his knees beside the bed. It was thus, j after ten long years, they met again. [conclusion next week.] lllisccllHttcims Reading. NEW TESTAMENT CHANGES. FAMILfAR TASSAOES AS THEY READ IN THE REVISED EDITION. The revision of the New Testament, which was beguu under the direction of the Convocation of Canterbury ten years ago, was completed last October, and the uew version is now in print, although it has not yet been given to the public. The work is the result of the deliberations of two committees, one of fifty learned Biblical scholars in England and one of thirty in this country. The two committees did not meet together and take joint action, but corresponded with each other and compared notes, and, as a general thing, were able to agree upon the proper reading of the texts. In cases of disagreement, the text of the British committee is used, but the reading of the American committee is given in an appendix, so that the reader or student has before him both translations. The only copies of the book in this country are those which have been sent to members of the American committee, of which the Rev. Dr. Phillip Schaff is the president, aud they are pledged not to-shpw them to any person, or give any informatiqp as to the changes made in the texts of the King James version, until the new version is formally approved and adopted by the Convocation of Canterbury. Dr. Schaff said last week that the Convocation would meet early in February, and, as soon as it approved the version, the revised New Testament would be given to the world. The Aiuericau committee has taken out no_cppyri^bt ou the book, a ml ttio intention is to crice if. to the nuLlio ?*..? WMV .w -w CJ- - # r~ free, as the old Bible has been given. In a very few days at furthest, if the Convocation approves of the revision, the book will be published, aud everybody will then be at liberty to compare it with the old version. Notwithstanding the precaution taken by the two committees to prevent any portions of the revision from being brought before the public before its formal adoption )>y the Convocation, the main features of the work are known to the religious world. Copies of the book were sent to Church of England papers to be used in preparing reviews, a strict injunction being laid upon the editors against printing any portion of the text or any review of the book before the action of the Convocation. The London Record disregarded this injunction, and published a review on the 7th instant, quoting liberally from the work to show where and in what manner the text had beeu changed. The following week the Record apologized for this publication, saying it was the result of a mistake; but the apology could not recall the passages which had been made public, so that the main features of the revised New Testament are almost as well known to churchmen in Europe today as they will be after the book is published. Those who iraagiued that any of the accepted fundamental doctrines of Christianity were to be overturned by the work of the committee will find themselves greatly mistaken. In very few instances has any text been changed so as to alter the meauiug which attached to it in the King James versiou, and in still fewer instances is the change material from a doctrinal point of view. As a general thing, the changes consist of the substitution of the present for the past tense in the verbs, the use of the indefinite article in place of the definite, and the changing of prepositions. In several instances verses have ' been omitted altogether, but as a general j thing the omission detracts nothing from the ! sense of the lesson. As an example of this, Mark ix : 43-46 may be cited. In the pres| ent version the verses read as follows : "43. And if thy hand offend thee, cut it off*: it is better for thee to enter into life maimed, than to have two hands to go into | hell, into the fire that never shall be quenched : "44. Where their worm uieth not ana me fire is not quenched. "45. And if thy foot offend thee, cut it off: i it is better for thee to enter halt into life, 1 than having two feet to be cast into hell, into the fire that is never quenched." "46. Where their worm dieth not and the fire is not quenched." Verses 44 and 46 in the above are entirely i omitted in the new version, but verse 48 of the same chapter, which is in. precisely the | same words is allowed to stand. The work j is arranged in paragraphs, and the chapters j and verses are printed in the margins. The i familiar head lines to the chapters which J serve so well as a means of reference are exj puuged. This will make the book seem ! 6trange to the ordinary Bible reader. The ,! text of each Gospel is thus made continuous I in the body of the book from the beginning to the end. and in order to find the subdi visious with which one has been familiar, the margins must be consulted. The work of trsyjslation has been very faithfully per formed, and the committees have adhered j scrupulously to the idioms of the original i j language, instead of adopting the English : idiom, as the public was led to believe that 11 they would do. The result is that the work i ! is very scholarly, but the text is not so plain I as it might have been made by a freer translation. The changes, on the whole, are not of a character to create any alarm in the mind of Christians. Not a single accepted , j truth has been eliminated, and no special II doctrine of the Church is assailed. f | Among the more striking changes may be I noted an alteration in the Lord's Prayer, as i | rendered in Matthew, vi, 9-13. In the new J version the doxology is entirely omitted, and . i the Prayer reads thus : "Our Father, which ; | art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy 1 ! kingdom come. Thy will he done, as in ? Heaven, so on earth. Give us this day our i daily bread, and forgive us our debts as we ; also have forgiven our debtors. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from the Evil One." The prayer as recorded in Luke xi, 2, 3, 4, reads as follows in the revised book : "Father, hallowed be Thy name. Thy ! kingdom come. Give us day by day our j daily bread. And forgive us our sins, for ; we ourselves also forgive every one that is | indebted to us. And lead os not into terapi tatiou." In Matthew iv, 5, where the temptation of Christ is related the old version says: "Then the devil taketh Him up into j the*holy city and setteth Him on a pinnai cle of the Temple." In this verse "a pinna| cle" is made to read "the pinnacle," and the ! change is manifestly proper, since there I was only one pinnacle to the Temple. Very ' many of the alterations are precisely of such I nature as this, the definite article being sub substituted for the indefinite and vice versa. | Matthew, vi, 1?"Take heed that ye do not I your alms before meu"?is made to read, | "Take heed that ye do not your righteousness J before men," which is looked upon as a much broader command, and more in accordance with the whole spirit of Christ's teachings. In Matthew, xix, 17, the entire meauing of the text is changed, but no new doqtrine is put forth, and no old one assailed. In the King James version the verse reads. "Why callest thou me good ? There is none good but one that is God. But if thou wilt enter into life, keep the corarnaudmeuts." In the new version the verse is as follows: "Why askest thou me concerning that which is good ? One there is who is good ; but if thou wouldst enter into life, keep the commandments." The question in Mark, viii., 36, 37, "For what shall it profit a man if he shall gain the whole world and lose his own soul ? Or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul?" is rendered: "For what doth it profit a man to gain the whole world and forfeit his life? For what should a man give in exchange for his life?" In Luke, ix., 35, j "And then came a voice out of the cloud, saying, "This is My beloved Sou ; hear liitu." [ The new work reads, "And then came a voice out of the cloud, saying, "This is my Son, My chosen." In speaking of Capernaum, Christ said, as recorded in Luke, x, 15, 16, of the accepted version : "And thou, Capernaum, which are exalted to heaven, shall be thrust down to hell. He that heareth you (speaking to His disciples) heareth Me, and he that despiseth you despiseth Me, and he that despiseth Me despiseth Him that sent Me." The committees have changed this passage very materially. It reads: "And thou,Capernaum,shalt thou be exulted uiAo heaven ? thou shalt be brought down unto Hades. He that heareth you heareth Me, aud he that rejecteth you rejecteth Me, and he that rejecteth Me reject eth Him that sent Me." Luke xvi, 8, 9, have also been materially changed. In the present version they read : "And the Lord commend ed the unjust steward because he had done wisely ; ior me cnnuren or tins wona are, 10 their generation, wiser than the children of light. And I say unio you, make to yourselves friends of the mammon of unrighteous ness, that when you fail they may receive you into everlasting habitations." In the revision these two verses read as follows: "And the Lord commended the unjust steward because he had done wisely. For the sous of this world are, for their own generation, wiser than the sons of the light. And I say unto you, make to yourselves friends by means of the mammon of unrighteousness, that, when it shall fail, they may receive you into eternal tabernacles." in tne parame ot .Lazarus and the rich man, as told in Luke, the word "hell" is changed to Hades, so that the verse reads: "And in Hades he lifted up his eyes, being in torment." Without having the entire revision to examine, it is lmpossioie to say whether the word "hell" is expunged in every instance where it occurs, and the members of the committee in New York refuse to give any information on the subject, but here are two cases in which it is stricken out, and the presumption appears to be that the old hell of our fathers has beeu abolished by the committee on revision. The story of the Pool of Bethesda, as told in John v, is materially changed by taking from it that portion which relates to the miraculous powers of the water of the pool. In verse 3?"In these lay a great multitude of impotent folk, of blind, halt, withered, waiting for the moving of the water"?the last seven words are stricken out, and verse 4? "For and angel went down at a certain season into the pool and troubled the water; whosoever then first after the troubling of the water stepped in was made whole of whatsoever diseuse he had," is omitted altogether. Acts,xi, 49, "And the Lord added to the Church daily such as should be saved," is made to read, "And the Lord added to them day by day those that were beingsaved." In Acts, viii, 37, "And Philip said, if thou believest with all thine heart thou mayest. And he answered and said, I believe that Jesus Christ is the Son of God," comprising the eunuch's profession of faith, is expunged, as is also the expression, "Let us not fight against God," in Acts xiii, 9. In Acts xvii, 23, "For as I passed by and beheld your devotions I found an altar with this inscription: To the unknown God. Whom, therefore, ye ignorantly worship, Him declare I unto you," the latter part is made to read, "To an unknown God. What, therefore, ye worship in ignorance, that declare I unto you." In the trial of Paul before Agrippa, re corded in Acts xxvi, some rather important changes are made iu verses 24 to 29 inclusive, and the impression that Agrippa was almost persuaded to become a Christian by Paul's eloquence is dispelled. The verses in the present version are as follows: "And as he thus spake for himself Festus said, with a loud voice: Paul, thou art beside thyself; much learning doth make thee mad. But he said. I am not mad, most noble Festus, but speak forth the words of truth and soberness. For the King knoweth of these things, before whom also I speak freely; for I am persuaded that none of these things are hidden from him ; for this thing was not done in a comer. ; King Agrippa, bclicvest thou the prophets ? j I know that thou believest. Then Agrippa | said unto Paul, almost thou persuadest me to be a Christian. And Paul said, I would to j God that not only thou, but also all that i hear me this dav. were both almost and alto j gether such as I am, except these bonds." ! In the revised version this scene is described ! thus: "And as he thus made his defence, j Festus saith with a loud voice, Paul, thou art mad ; thy much learning doth turn thee to madness. But Paul saith, I am not mad, most excellent Festus; but speak forth words of truth and soberness. For the King knoweth of these things, unto whom also I speak ; freely ; for I am persuaded that noue of these i things is hidden from him ; for this hath not ! been done in a corner. King Agrippa, believest thou the prophets? I know that thou believest. And Agrippa said unto Paul, with hut little persuasion thou wouldst make ! me a Christian. And Paul said, I would to j God, that whether with lit tie or with much, j not thou only, but also all that hear me this j day, might become such as I am, except these | bonds." The above examples of the text of the rej vised New Testament, which have been given to the public in advance of the meeting of the Convocation of Canterbury, give a fair idea of the character and 6cope of the ten years' work, which has been done by the two I committees in England and America. The book will probably be published within the next month, and it is said that a cheap tencent edition will be among the first giveu to the public. But little doubt is expressed by any member of the committee that the convocation will approve and adopt the new version. Whether other churches than the Church of England will accept it is a question to be decided in the future. GARFIELD AS A FINANCIER. [From a Washington Letter.j Many people, who ought to know better seem to be imbued with the idea that Gen. Garfield is a plain, straightforward man, utterly unversed in the arts of diplomacy. That this is a mistaken view of his character is proved by the following authentic ouecdote told me to-night by one of his intimate friends: A year ago last autumn, when the Legisla ture, which afterwards elected Gen. Garfield united states senator, was in process or nomination, a tall, ungainly young man, bailing from Ashtabula county, called at Mentor one day and asked lor the general. After the compliments of the season had passed, the visitor, whose name was Thorp, joyfully informed his host that he had just been nonii nated by the Republicans of his district for a seat in the lower house of the Legislature, and that if elected he would vote "first, last, and all the time for Garfield for senator." The General naturally expressed great pleasure at Mr. Thorp's good fortune and applauded his choice for senatorial honors, at the same time assuring his visitor of his earnest hope that the Democrats would not sue ceed in carrying that particular district. "Have no fear of that," said the enthusiastic Thorp; "I will work like a beaver from now until the election day, and am bound to win. All I need is a little money to pay my election expenses, and I thought I'd just run over and ask you to lend me $300; that will fetch me through all right." Inasmuch, as Gen. Garfield was already aware of Thorp's tendency to borrow and forget, he was a good deal nonplused by this sudden request, but immediately and truthfully replied that he had not that amouut of money on hand, and hence could not make the loan. "It would indeed afford me great pleasure to accommodate so good a friend as you, Mr. Thorp," but I have only fifteen dollars about me. I would gladly aid you in any way in the world, and if you want what I've got you are welcome to it." He thought that this would end the conversation, but his surprise may be ouly faintly imagined when Thorp, swelled with gratitude for the kind assurance of the the General's willingness to assist him, and grasping bis' hand, said: "I thought of all this before I came, Gen eral and when in Cleveland I enquired at the bank, and they told me that they would discount my note for 8300 if you would endorse it. Your friendly words convince me that you will help me through. I have a note already drawn and have signed it my self ; all it needs now is your signature to get the money and ensure my election to the Legislature and yours to the Senate of the United States." Gen. Garfield saw that he was in for it. After assuring his visitor that he would do anything in his power to aid him, he could not possibly refuse him so simple a thing as his autograph ; so he took the note somewhat ruefully, led the way into his study, aud sat down at his desk. He seized a pen, dipped it into an ink bottle, and seemed just on the point of writing his name. I I 11 mmm?L ?J r> nl> n J? 4 ? ?*hr?ri?j ??ru\] I^t?y suddenly said : "Thorp, don't you see this would ruin us both ? You are a candidate for the State Legislature, and lama candidate for the United States Senate. Two thirds of the directors in this bank are Democrats, aud if they ever got hold of a note signed by us two, they would use it for our destruction." Do you think there would be dagger?" gasped the thoroughly frightened Thorp."Certainly there would be danger," replied the General; "but," continued the narrator, "Garfield afterwards, in laughingly ? l J il- i it 1 telling tnis story, explained mat me .reai danger he feared in the matter was "that Thorp would forget to ever refund the money. Gen. Garfield," continued my informant, "regards that feat as the only brilliant financial performance of his whole life." Some of the able gentlemen now seeking the General's endorsement of their draft on the public crib may fiud that the cunningness which saved him from the remorseless friendship of the thoughtful Thorp, may enable him to evade their earnest entreaties as easily for a similar reason. THE LABOR QUESTION. The scarcity of labor is attracting considerable attention throughout the State, and many persons are casting about for relief. State Senator B. F. Crayton, of Anderson, who has had some experience with white labor, in a recent conversation with a reporter of the Nem and Courier said: I think it was about five years ago that ?I got out the first immigrant to work on my farms in Anderson county. I first got one man and his wife from Castle Garden, and next season I brought out from Germany his children and eight other immigrants. The following season I brought out fifteen or twenty families, who are now located on my places and the places of my neighbors in Anderson county. I secured these latter through Maj. Franz Melchers, who forwarded the tickets, and the immigrants were landed at New York with the exception of the last arrivals, who were landed at Baltimore and thence went to Anderson by way of the Air-Line Railroad. The cost of transportation from Germany to New York or Baltimore, is about 830 per immigrant. From New York to Anderson, n m l . ? _ ? A1K J ny way or unariesion, me rare is cio, ami from Baltimore by way of the Air-Line Railroad, the cost is $10.50. Arrangements have recently been made by Mr. Melchers, however, by which the cost from Charleston to Anderson has been fixed at $2.60. I advance the money for their expenses all the way and not a single oue has failed to remain with me and work out his indebtedness. I pay them for their work on an average of 812 a month for males, aud $6 a month for females, and out of this they find themselves. The wages are about the same as are paid for negro laborers and the quality of the work is better. They are as fine ploughmen as I have ever seen. The women hoe cotton very well indeed. They work a little slow but do the work well, and make expert cotton picki ers. My experience with them is that they stand the climate perfectly well, remain remarkably healthy and keep their homes and themselves strikingly cleanly. They are constant workers and expect but three holidays in the year, Christmas, New Year's Day and good Friday. I have both Protestants and Catholics on my farms, the latter being of Polish descent. They have for the most part come from Posen, a province of Prussia, included in what is termed Prussian Poland, and lying mostly between the latitude 51? 30' and 53? 30' north, and longitude 15? 30' and -19? east, and having an area of 11,178 square miles. The population in 1875 was 1,606,084, of whom two thirds are Roman Catholics. I have at present about twenty of these immigrants iu my employ, and I suppose there are as many more working on the farms of my neighbors. They have remained more contentedly and I have had less trouble with them, than any class of laborers I have ever had to deal with. They all read and write German, and the younger ones acquire English with facility. I look upon these immigrauts as the very class of people we want here in South Carolina to supplement our negro labor. I do not think they will supplant the negroes, but there is an actual scarcity of labor, and there is ample room for thousands of them. They are thrifty and economical, and have a tendency to strike out for themselves as soon as they have accumulated a little property. In this way we ) secu re the services of first class laborers for ; jeveral years who, by their own exertions, elevate themselves to good and prosperous citizens. Where persons propose to bring, these immigrants from Germany, they are required to give notice by the 24th of June of their intention to leave, otherwise their landlords can hold them. I expect to get out several families more this season, and a few will arrive this sDrine. ERRORS IN MARRIAGE. MaDy of the errors of life admit of remedy. A loss in one business may be repaired by a gain in another; a miscalculation this year may be retrieved by special care the next; a had partnership may be dissolved, an injury repaired, a wrong step retraced. But an error in marriage goes to the very root and foundation of life. It has been said no man is utterly ruined until he has married a worthless wife; and so every woman has a future before her until she is chained, in wedlock which is a padlock, to a wretched and unworthy man. The deed once done cannot be recalled. The wine of life is wasted and the goblet is broken, and no tears and toils can bring back the precious draught. Let the young think of this, and let them walk carefully in a world of snares, and take heed to their steps, lest in the most critical event of life they go fatally astray. But here we must guard against another. Many people think they have made a mistake in marriage, when the mistake is only in their own behavior since they they were married. Good husbands make good wives, and good wives make good husbands; and the scolding or intemperate or slatternly partner often has but himself or herself to blame for the miseryjthat clouds the life and desolates the home. Multitudes who feel that their marriage was a mistake, and who make existence a life-long misery, might, by a little self-denial, and forbearance, and gentleness, and old-time courtesy, make their home brighten like the gates of Eden, and bring back again the old love that blessed the hapnv cnlden Hrvb cone bv. I" J o ~ J - O ?J Suppose the wife does not know quite so much as you do; well, you showed your great judgment when you thought her the chief among ten thousand ! Or, if your husband is not the most wonderful man in the world, it simply illustrates the wit and wisdom of the young woman who once thought he was, and could not be convinced to the contrary ! So perhaps you are not so unevenly matched after all; and if one has had better opportunities since married, then of course that one should teach and cultivate, and encourage the other, and so both journey on together. But if one has grown worse and sunk lower than at the beginning, perhaps even then patience and toil and sunshine may bring back the erring one to duty, lift up the fallen, rescue the perishing, and save the lost. How glorious for a wife to pluck her husband from the jaws of ruin and bring him safely to the heavenly home! How blessed for the husband to bring back to the gates of paradise * Ua utAAxAn. uikn. tKrAimk - Kail Kaon . led astray. ??? THE LAND OF PALESTINE. Palestine sits in sackcloth and ashes. Over it broods the spell of a curse that has withered its fields and fettered its energies. Where Sodom and Gomorrah reared their domes and towers, that solemn sea now floods the plain, in whose bitter waters no living thing exists?over whose waveless surface the blistering air hangs motionless and dead? about whose waters nothing grows but weeds and scattering tufts of cane, and that treacherous fruit that promises refreshment to Sarching lips, but turns to ashes at the touch, fazareth is forlorn. About the ford of Jordan, where the hosts of Israel entered the promised land with songs of rejoicing, one finds only a squallid camp of fantastic Be douius of the desert; Jericho, the accursed, lies a raoldering ruin to-day, even as Joshua's miracle left it more than three thousand years ago; Bethlehem and Bethany, in their poverty and their humiliation, have nothing about them now to remind one that they once knew the high honor of the Saviour's presence; the hallowed spot where shepherds watched their flocks by night, and where the angels sang, "Peace on earth, good will to men," is untenanted by any living creature, and unblessed by any feature that is pleasant to the eye. Jerusalem itself, the stateliest name in history, has lost all its grandeur, and is become a pauper village; the riches of Solomon are no longer there to compare the admiration of Oriental queeqg; the wonderful temple which was the pride and glory of Israel, is gone, aud the Oriental crescent is lifted above the spot where, on that most memorable day in the annals of the world, they reared the holy cross. The noted Sea of Gallilee, where Roman fleets once rode at anchor, and the disciples of the Saviour sailed in their ships, was long ago deserted by tbe devotees of war and commerce, and its borders are a silent wilderness ; Capernaum is a shapeless ruin ; Magdala is the home of the beggared Arabs; Bethsaida and Chorazin have banished from ? -?*1- ? ? J w\?vn/? oKnnf me eaitu, uuu iijc ucocn piav.cs <wuuu u?uuv them, where thousands of men once listened to the Saviour's voice and ate miraculous bread, sleep in the hush of a solitude that is inhabited only by birds of prey and skulking foxes. Palestine is desolate and unlovely. And why should it be otherwise ? Can the curse of Deity beautify a land ? Palestine is no more of this work-day world. It is sacred to poetry and traditionit is a dreamland.?Mark Twain. Tiie Lord's Prayer.?When the elder Booth was residing in Baltimore, a pious, urbane old gentleman of that city, learning of his wonderful powers of elocution, one day invited him to diuner, although always deprecating the stage and all theatrical performances. A large company sat down at the table, and, on returning to the drawing-room, | one of them asked Booth, as a special favor to them all, to repeat the Lord's Prayer. He signified his willingness to gratify them, and all eyes were fixed upon him. He slowly and reverently arose from his chair, trembling with the burden of two great conceptions. He had to realize the character, attributes and presence of the Almighty Being he was to addros3. He was to transform himself into a poor, sinning, stumbling, benighted, needy suppliant, offering homage, asking bread, pardon, light and guidance. Says one of the company who was present, "It was wonderful to watch the play of emotions that convulsed his countenance. He became deadly pale, his eyes turned trembling upward, were wet with tears. As yet he has not spoken. The silence could be felt; it had become absolutely paiuful, until at last the spell was broken as if by an electric shock, as his rich-toned voice syllabled forth, 'Our Father, which art in heaven,' etc., with a pathos and fervid solemnity which thrilled all hearts. He finished; the silence continued ; not a voice was heard, nor a muscle moved in this wrapt audience, until, from a remote corner of the room, a subdued sob was heard, and the old gentleman (the host) stepped forward with stream ing eyes aDd tottering frc.rae and seized Booth by the hand. 'Sir,' said he, in broken accents, 'you have afforded me a pleasure for which my future life will feel grateful. I ; am an old man, and every day, from my boyhood to the present time, I have repeated the Lord's Prayer; but I never heard it before, never.' 'You aro right,' replied Booth, 'to read that prayer st it should be read, caused me the severest study and labor for thirty years, and I am far from satisfied with my rendering of that wonderful production. Hardly one person in ten thousand comprehends how much beauty, tenderness and grandeur can be condensed in a space so simple. That prayer itself sufficiently illustrates the truth of the Bibl i, and stamps upon it the ! seal of divinity.'"?The Alliance. A M0N01P0LT *IN CORKS. The cork business is a very large and {>rofitable one, and, like many others, is wholy under the control of an association called I the Cork Manufacturers^ Union. This union I r?/\f amIw fonnlofoo fko rwxnck Knf D17A onH UVU VU1J 1 tgUIUbVO IllIU |/? IW| vuv tuv Si?V Ui<?? length of corks, even determining discounts to all buyers, and giving in its circular a list of those dealers and jobbers who are entitled to special discounts. It goes further, and says that no corks should be sold on longer terra of credit than sixty days; that none should be sold to druggists in New York, Philadelphia, Boston, Albany, Troy, Portland, or Providence, or to bottlere anywhere on a longer term of credit than thirty days. This ageement is entered into for the purpose of protecting both the importers and manufacturers in their endeavors to promote the best interests of the cork business. Before the union was formed the larger manufacturers cut prices to such an extent and sold so low that smaller manufacturers could not live. Prices are twenty-five per cent, higher than formerly, owing to the rise in raw material, or natural corkwook, but as prices are as numerous as the sizes aad shapes of corks, it is impossible to give them. The use of cork increases very rapidly. Heretofore the refuse cuttings were thrown away, but now every piece, large or small is utilized. Prom the clippings is made linoleum, a kind of floor cloth. Other refuse is granulated and used in packing fruit. Shavings, or curled cork, goes into the mattresses, which are very cool in summer and more so in the winter. The great use, however, to which corkwood is put is for bottle stoppers, and in this it supersedes all other substances. The cork tree is a species of oak called Quercus suber. It grows abundantly in the south of France, Spain, Algeria and in some parts of Italy. This country's supply comes from the Atlantic side of France and from Portugal. Corkwood, so called, is the bark of the tree which it?the tree?throws off, the first time when about twenty years old, and every nine or ten years afterward. The tree is said to live 150 years. Paper Boxes Substituted for Tin.?A few years ago a process of paper-box manufacturing was invented, which has since placed paper, the rival of so many materials, in the position of a strong rival of tin in packages for certain articles of commerce. Previous to this invention the great objection to using round paper boxes for small packages, when tin was commonly used, was that the covers, beiDg in two pieces (a disk ana a rim), were not durable or safe enough to fill the reouireineuisoi XTeqiremr mmuiftng-.?ouQel tneiiew process, the heads or covers of the box are "drawn" from a single piece of straw board, so that not only is there no separating of a disk from the lim by use, but there is no seam through which the contents of the box can find its way. The body of the box is cut from paper tubes, made of several thicknesses of a light weight of straw board or heavy straw paper. Almost any desired diameter or length of box can be made. The heads are made of a heavy straw board, from what is known as No. 90 to No. 50, or heavier, if desired, and are "drawn" under a peculiar process, with great; rapidity. One of these heads is fastened ;to the bottom of the bot another of the same kind is adjusted to the top, not fastened, and the box is complete. ? < _i J I:_.J _.:iL C ? or tnese a siraw noaru uueu wuu inm;jr*wiored paper can be used ; oftentimes a tin-foil paper is selected, in which case, with the body of box covered with a label, the package resembles a handsome, solid tin box. The boxes have been introduced into a great variety of uses, where, on account of cheapness, they have already superseded tin. Large quantities are used with and without water, air and grease-proof preparations, in packing such articles as chloride of lime, paris green, putty, tar, seeds, etc. The same principle is applied to the manufacture of small pill boxes Bnd toy-paper cap boxes, the latter being known now by "Young America," almost to an entirety, as his chief Fourth of July delight. This class of boxes is made with astonishing rapidity, as can be imagined from the fact that they are sold, by the thousand gross, as low as 7 and 8 cents a gross. The Hair of Prominent Men.?In this feature, writes the New York correspondent of the Rochester Democrat, N. P. Willis and Horace Greeley were entirely dissimilar. Willis bad long and beautiful ringlets,. of which he was very proud, while, as is wellknown, Greeley became bald early in life, the base of the head being merely fringed with gold. We may note that many of our best writers or public men were in a similar condition. Washington Irving wore a wig half of his life time. William Lloyd Garrison was well known for his smooth pate. Wendell Phillips has only a few scattered silver locks. Ralph Waldo ' Emmerson keeps bis head cropped closely. Such, also, was the practice of the late Charles Sumner. It may be urged against long-haired men that not only Willis (who was a rake) was thus adorned, t?..* ~ 1o? 4l,a mnnnotoo rif tVlo Ttmntlvn SCRn UUIl a IO*/ blio UJ(?gUI?WO VA vuv ? ? dal, (Beecher and Tilton) are also of the long haired class. Theodore Parker, on the other hand, was bald, and so was John Qnincy Adams. The late Chief Justice Chase was much in the same condition. Speaking of fashion, it may be saifl that the ancient Greeks wore their hair long, while the Egyptians cut it off, and wore light wigs. In France, at one time, short hair was the style, and in the reign of Louis Quatorze it was worn of prodigious length, and was done up in a lofty manner. Tho hair fashion of New York, at present, deserves more space than can just now be afforded, notwithstanding the importance of the theme. Mother Shipton.?A writer says that Mother Shiptop.'s prophecy that the world will come to an end during the coming year, or soon thereafter, created a great stir in the newspaper world. Professor Hall of the National Observatory has been interviewed upon . the subject and says that it is the first time he has been made aware of the impending danger. He had seen somewhere a statement "that the comet of 1812 was to return about that time, but we know nothing certain. Indeed, it is impossible to know anything positive about comets. We can only observe snch a small portion of their immense orbits that we cannot estimate their return with exact precision; but the likelihood of its falling into the sun or striking the earth, even if it did return, is infinitely small." "Do you think the earth will ever be struck by a comet ?" "There's jast about one chance in millions and millions that snch a thing will come to pass, and if it did, in my opinion, no one need fear the consequences in the least."