Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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lewis m. grist, Proprietor. J Jnkptnbtnt Jamiln Itttospptr: Jor 1 \t |)roinotion of \\t political, Social, Agricultural anb Commercial Interests of t|e J5ont|. TERMS--$2.50 A TEAR, IN ADVANCE. VOL. 27. YORKVILLE, S. C., THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 24, 1881. NO. 8. Selected fodrjj. PEtitilNU AWAY. There was an old shoemaker, sturdy as steel, Of great wealth and repute in his day. Who. if questioned his secret of luck to reveal, Would chirp like a bird on a spray? "It isn't so much the vocation you're in, Or your liking for it," he would say, "As it is that forever, through thick and through thin. You should keep up a-pegging away." I have found it a maxim of value, whose truth Observation has proved in the main ; And which well might be vaunted a watchword by youth In the labor of hand and brain ; For even if genius and talent are cast Into work with the strongest display, You can never be sure of achievement at last Unless you keep pegging away. There are showmen who might into statesmen have grown. Politicians for handiwork made. Some poets who better in shops had shone, And mechanics best suited for trade; ~ ... ? Ci But wlion once in the Harness, uowever u m, Buckie down to your work niglit and day, Secure in the triumph of hand and of wit If you only keep pegging away. There are times in all tasks when the fiend Discontent Advises a pause or a change; And on fields far away and irrelevant bent, The purpose is tempted to range; Never heed, but in sound recreation restore Such traits as are slow to obey, And then, more persistent and staunch than before Keep pegging and pegging away. Leave fitful endeavor for such as would cast Their spendthrift existence in vain, For the secret of wealth in the present and past. And of fame and of honor, is plain. It lies not in change, nor in sentiment nice, Nor in wayward exploit and display, But just in the shoemaker's homely advice To keep pegging and pegging away. JU (Nginai Written for the Yorkville Enquirer. THE LADY OF LINTON. BY WALTER MORGAN. CHAPTER XV. As Sir Roland, tremblingly, slowly reached out his hand, and with a timid gesture laid it in Miriam's wasted hand, a convulsive shudder passed over her whole frame. She turned away her head, and in a faint voice said ? "You do not hate me utterly, then ?" "Hate you! 0, Miriam ! my wife. If you only knew!" "I thought you would want to kill me. I know I deserve death at your hand. It would be only a just retribution." "Do not utter such terrible words, Miriam. I love you with my whole heart and soul? have loved you all along." She turned an incredulous look upon him. "Lovemel You!" "Aye, love. I gave my whole heart to you 'once, and have never taken it back." "I cannot understand it," she said, dreamily. "I fancied you would never utter my name without a curse. Don't you know that I am a demon?a tool in the hands of Satan himself?" ' You were his tool once, Miriam. You did not act of your own free will. But forget ' that now. Let us never recur to that time again." "And you forgive me?actually? You are ! willing to forget ?" "I am willing to forgive and forget every- j thing, on one condition." "And what is that?" "That you will in future give me your? ! friendship," he replied, in a voice of deepest! emotion. "My friendship?poor Roland! You have asked for a worthless gift." "Your friendship, Miriam, and the privi lege of being near you sometimes. I ask nothing more." "Such generosity is not human. I deserve that you should spurn me, trample me beneath your feet. Do you know how far I have wronged you ?" "I said that we would thiuk of that no more." "Nay, I do not mean that one guilty act alone. Did you know that just a little while - -- r j u- ? ,?i,? ago 1 eugagou UlJ'BCJi 10 mail * a lunw miu loved me?and this, not knowing positively whether you were alive or dead ?" Roland flushed deeply, and looked away. "I did hear this," he answered in a low tone. "But you believed me to be dead, did you not ?" "I had done so, ail along; but old Priscilia had giveu me a hint of the truth." "Well, we will forget that also, Miriam. Of course," he added sorrowfully, "I cannot blame you for loving any one else, because you never cared for me. I canuot wonder at f that. I never hope to win auy warmer feeling from you than the friendship I have sued j for. But for your own sake, after all thatj has happened, it will be best for you open-1 ly to accept my protection. Let the world i make whatever comments it likes. We need ' not regard them. When you are quite well j again, we will, if you like, go abroad, and i make a new home for ourselves in some far ! country where no one will trouble themselves | about us, or inquire iuto our past." "And give up Linton Towers ? Nay, that would be too hard a fate for you. Rather let! me go away. Send me where you will, make what arrangements you choose, and I will abide by them. Let me retire into a convent i and try to expiate my sins by a life of penance and seclusion." "And could I be happy here, do you think, ( under such circumstances? No, we will go together?that is," he added with a sudden, painful doubt, "unless my companionship will he too great a tax upon your endurance "Would I shun the companionship of an angel from Heaven ?" asked Miriam, in a scarcely audible tone. "I have siuned deep ly?my soul has been steeped and dved iu crime ; but, before God, if you are willing to be with nie through my future life, that life shall be an atonement for the past." He kissed her hand, and his tears fell on it like rain. "So be it," he whispered. 'Where thou goest, I will go.' It is a covenant between us, Miriam. With God's help we will build up a future that shall compensate us for these wasted years, and if my devotion can make you happy, you shall vet And happiness upon Cttl LIJ* And so the covenant was made ; and from th^t hour a wondrous peace dawned in Miriam's soul. She had compared her husband to an angel of Heaven, and surely his ministrations to her were angelic in their tenderness. A new feeling for him began to awaken within her. It was not love, hut a deep, unspoken reverence, that seemed to shed a pure elfulgent light about him, and lift him far above her lowly level. Her pride was all gone now. With repentance had come its sister, humility, abasing her in her own eyes to a depth far below anything she had ever before conceived. It was not a prayerful hu mility at first. She had so long been an alien from Heaven, that she shrank, almost in terror, from presenting herself as a suppliant at the throne of grace. It would take time to clear all the mists of error from her eyes, and make her see things in their true light. Gently, cautiously, as one would lead a little helpless child along a difficult path, her husband strove to guide her wandering and uncertain steps back to the road in which she should ! travel; and she, her haughty spirit crushed I and bowed, submitted to his guidance, though still with a mind too darkened and confused ! to understand his teachings aright. Whatever comment and wonderment had arisen in consequence -of Sir Roland's sudden appearance in the Hesh, after the many years | during which the world had thought him ; numbered among the denizens of another 1 sphere, (and these were rife in the parish) no I whisper of them reached the quiet chamber j in which Lady Hepburn's convalescence \ passed; and as soon as her strength was suffi ' ciently restored, her husband and herself, i without open preparation or warning, quietly 1 left their home, disappearing forever front the | spot where they were known. [ Shortly after their departure, Mrs. Hope i received this note, written by Miriam, after ' much reflectiun and perplexed thought, and I submitted to her husband's approval before it ! was sent. To Cyril Hope's Mother: "Feeling, as I do, almost unworthy to address you, as one most nearly concerned in the welfareofaperson whom I have deeply injured, I cannot, nevertheless, refrain from writing you these few lines, to crave your forgiveness, and ask your intercession in obtaining his, for having been the cause of so much unhappiness. In my folly and madness, I would have involved myself and him in total ruin ; but that dreadful result has, at least, been averted. My husband, in the nobility of his soul, and with unequaled and unexampled generosity, has accorded me his pardon for the wrong I did him. If, during the remainder of my life, I can atone, by penitence and humility, for my many sins, such atonement shall be made. Think of me, therefore, as one who has been very wicked, but repents deeply; and pray for me, that such repentance be not in vain. When this reaches you, I shall have left this country forever. My peace of mind can be only maintained" in some spot far away from the scene of mv past wrongdoings, where nothing shall remind me that I am a fitting object for the scorn and detestation of mankind. Miriam Hepburn." It was long ere Mrs. Hope, with all her Chistian charity, could briug herself to think forgivingly of the woman who had darkened Cyril's life. Her mother-heart, wrung by his sorrow, could find no palliation for her fault. But by degrees, as she saw the cloud which had settled upon him begin gradually to lighten ; as she noted some return of his old interest in the duties of life, she tried to overcome her reseutment, and to accord to the offender the forgivness she had craved, and which she knew was enjoined by that good Book from which she gathered the daily teachings that ruled her conduct, and instructed her to do unto other even as she would have ihem do unto her. As to Cyril, his sufferings for a time were great; but as his passionate love for Lady Hepburn had sprung up suddenly and swiftly, and the time in which he could indulge it had been of no short duration, it was perhaps more easily uprooted from his heart thau had it been of Blower growth, and more prolonged in its existence. Like a fierce flame, it seemed for a time almost to consume him, but all the more quickly, from its very intensity, burned itself out, leaving only the ashes of a dead hope behind. Other thoughts, other aims, engrossed him. He was soon called to a parish in another part of the country, where he found much to interest and absorb him, and his duties left him little leisure for vain repining or regrets. Here he had a pleasant, comfortable home with his mother and Mary, his salary enabling them to live in more ease than they had known for many years. Leila married her vnnnir hnrrister who took her to reside in the city, where he pursued his profession with succe^. Of Lou?gentle, loving Lou?only a tender memory remained ; but though her dream of making one of the household in her beloved Cyril's own home was unfulfilled, the shadow of her presence was not wanting to hallow its walls. Her name was almost as frequently on the lips of those who loved her, as if she had still been among them ; aud while in the softening twilight their tears j would sometimes fall as they recalled her j sweet looks and ways, they felt with one ac- ! cord that God had dealt wisely in taking her | thus early and lovingly to His care, and never j wished her her back agaiu on earth. After some years, when Mary was married i and gone away, and only Mrs. Hope remain- j ed with her sou at the Parsonage, Cyril took to himself a wife; a gentle young girl, the only child of one of his parishoners, whose religious training and lovely disposition eminently fitted her for the position in which he | placed her. Very different was the deep but! tranquil love he bore her from the feverish passion of his early youth. The one had excited hira, made him restless, uufitted him ! for his daily duties, had been less of a pleas- i ure than a pain ; the other filled his heart; with a new, abundant joy, tranquillizing | aud ennobling in its influence, and giving I him new ardor and new strength for the per- j formance of his work. In a calm, secluded vale, over which the j blue sky of Italy bends, Sir Jttoland and Mi-1 riam made their home. Far removed from the world and its tumult of strangers to all ! around them, their life flowed on in an even j unbroken current, and the repose was equally ; grateful to them both. The master hand | that had always controlled the most powerful i emotions of Roland's soul, still kept in check the one deep feeliug that absorbed him ; aud ! while ministering with unfailing vigilance j and devotion to every desire of her he loved, : while toiling with unceasing solicitude for her ; welfare, he nev t by word or sign made any j demonstration of the vain longing which con- j sumed him, the longing, deep as his love, to win one answering sigu of love from her in return. What prayers ascended, in his silent chamber, from his overcharged heart, night and morn?what tears of bitter disappoint- j ment sometimes bedewed his pillow?none could know or guess. Grateful she was for his , tenderness and care. Meek and yielding now, her words were always gentle, and her manner kind. She was glad to have him \ near her, glad to know herself the object of : so much affection, while deeply conscious of j its being undeserved. But gratitude he did j not want. One spontaneous word of love, j one caress springing from the heart, would ! have been worth more to him than everything else?and these she never gave. Years rolled by, and a change came over him. She did not notice it at first; but by degrees it came to her observation that his cheek was paler and his step more languid than of old. When she questioned him, he 1 smiled?it wa3 nothing. The climate, the heat, had affected him ; he was not really uij- j 1 well But when the onnl weather returned. it brought no returning strength. She en-j treated him then to consult a physician, and j with some reluctance he did so. He was advised to ch^ge the air?to make a trip over ! the mountains. Miriam urged compliance, and they went. For a little, while she noticed an improvement in him, but it was not ; of long duration. Traveling wearied him, i and he proposed returning home. Rest, he : said, was far better for him than anything j else. So they went back and settled down : again in their pretty, secluded villa. Miriam : was now the one to minister, and he the one ' to be ministered to. With new zeal, she assumed the office of a nurse, and was un- j remitting in her vigilance. They seemed to ' have completely changed places. After a ; time he ceased to resist the encroaches of disease; they came ou gradually, but none the less surely aud steadily. Self indulgence, which was no part of his nature, became a J necessity to him. He was forced to be passive, | to submit to what he had no longer the bodily strength to withstand. It was not many weeks after their return ! that the end came. He had been expecting I it?had thought over it much in secret, but had spoken no word to Miriam of such thoughts. Only his eyes followed all her movements with a wistful yearning; a tenderness, if possible, deeper than before, spoke in his tone when he addressed her. And still, with all her care and watchfulness, there was the one thing lacking?the one thing he wanted, the one thing which above all would have surrounded his last hours with perfect content and joy. It was evening. He had fallen into a quiet sleep, and leaving his bedside, she had sought an open window, for the night was warm. Leaning on the sill, she looked out on the sky with its myriad of stars; and her thoughts were lifted to the world above and beyond those radiant portals, where sin and suffering were unknown. "Miriam !" said a soft voice, at last. She went quickly back to her post, and laid her hand upon his forehead. It was cold and damp, and by the subdued light of the night ? i 1 P . _ lamp, she saw a new iook upon nis xace. "Miriam, I am dying. Take me in your arms." She cast her arms about him, and l^id her cheek on the pillow against his own. Her heart throbbed close to his, and he could feel its tumultuous beating. Of her own accord she kissed his lips. Once, twice; and a deep convulsive sob surged up from her breast. "Roland, my husband ! ?0 ! God. I cannot lgt you go!" "Miriam?" his voice was weak and faint, but tremulous with the dawning of a new, unutterable joy. "My darling, do you love me at last?" "I love you?I love you. Only stay with me, and I will make amends for all!" He smiled?a smile of perfect peace. It had come at last?the one word be wanted ; but he had no answer for her almost frantic appeal. He needed no farther amends, though she would have given her life for a little longer space, a few more hours or days of time in which to fill up what had so long been lacking in the measure of her love. ?** #** A quiet figure clad in black, visits daily a little I talian burying grouud, where one grave, witlfits marble tablet, is the constant object of her care. Wreaths and crosses of fairest flowers mark the spot where Sir Roland Hep; burn lies; and his widow, now a widow indeed, in heart as well as in name, will never cease to renew them, or to water them with her tears, until the time comes when she shall be called to lie down at his side. Not only in silent sorrow is her existence spent. She has learned that iu deeds of active benevolence, and fruitful sympathy with the griefs of others, her own truest satisfaction can be found ; and many an abode of poverty, many a heart stricken by woe, wel* ? ? /? ,1 comes her coming, and blesses her ior me comfort and consolatiou she bestows. And here let us leave her, spreading the cloak of charity over her past misdeeds. If Bhe has sinned deeply, she has also deeply repented ; and in the holiest of all Books we read?andwhoshall gainsay his teachings?? That to them who have sinned most, the boon of Divine forgiveness is extended in its highest form, and to its amplest extent. [the end ] ^lisrcUattfouo |U?tUug. "THE GHOST OF INTIMIDATION." congressman aiken exorcises it with hard facts. In the House of Representatives, the Apportionment bill being under consideration, Congressman Aiken spoke as follows: After the admirable speeches made to-day by the gentleman from Connecticut (Mr. Hawley) and the gentleman from Massachusetts (Mr. Robinson) I had hoped that this discussion might have been continued upon that plaue of statesmanship which they had inaugurated, and that partisan prejudices ?wv morfl Ko Koo* /! in tKic Hohnfp I my good friend from Indiana, (Mr. Calkins,) whose attention I now invoke, has thought proper to present some very pertinent questions, which I propose directly to answer. From the remarks of my friend and of some of those who preceded him on that side of the House, I am impressed that if there is any pharisaical righteousness on earth it is to be found in the Republican party whenever questions pertaining to the South are discussed by them. To-day they seem to be solicitous whether or not a large proportion of the people of the South are permitted to vote, and the question is raised by them whether it is not the duty of Congress to appoint a committee of investigation upon this subject. I ask my friend from Indiana (Mr. Cal kins) and his colleagues why is this a latterday thought with them ? Why did they not desire to investigate this subject when Republican rascality and extravagance were running riot over the South ami none but Republican votes were cast ? I hold in my hand, sir, a Congressional Directory for 1874, of the first session of the Forty third Congress, and in turning to my own State I find that J. H. Raiuev received in the first district 19,765 yotes as a Republican, "being all the votes that were cast," as the Directory states. From the same source I learn that A. J. Ransier was elected as a Republican from another district, receiving 20,061 votes against 6,549 votes cast for W. Gurney, Independent Republican, not a single Democratic vote being cast in the district. In the third district, which I have the honor to represent, R. B. Elliott, the caudidate for the Republican party, received 21,627 votes, while only 1,094 votes were cast for W. H. McCaw, Democrat. One year later I find L. C. Carpenter, Republican, was elected to fill an unexpired term, Elliott having resigued, and received 23,185 votes, as is recorded in the Directory, j "there being no organized opposition." Why is it that this party of great moral ! ideas, which then controlled the executive and legislative branches of our Government, did not think it incumbent upon them to have Congressional investigation of this one-sided condition of things'? But let us come a little nearer to the preseut time. In the Directory of 1876 I find i that at the election of 1874, E. W. M. Mack- ' ey, a Republican, received 16,742 votes, and ! that C. W. Buttz, aI>o a Republican, received | at the same time 14,204 votes ; no record to ' be found of a Democratic vote being cast in the districts. Is it not strange, Mr. Speaker, that this party, whose representatives on this floor are so clamorous for fair and free elections, did not consider it their duty to investigate at that time these anomalous elections ?" But, sir, this same Republican party, to day so just, so fair, so moral, at that time so callous, so insensible to the rights of Southern voters, are now demanding that all election districts shall be composed of contiguous counties. Sir, allow me to instance but a single case of Republican gerrymandering during their revelry, extravagance and prodigality in South Carolina. The third congressional district was composed of the coun-1 ties of Abbeville, Anderson, Laurens, Newberry, Oconee, Pickens and Richland, and no portion of Richland county is within perhaps fifteen miles of any point of either of the remaining connties which constitute the district, Lexington county, which has a Democratic majority of about 1,000, intervening between Richland and Newberry. The gentleman (Mr. Calkins) must not mis' understand me as saying that it was the nuiu ber of troops that overawed South Carolina during the six years to which I have alluded, aud during which time I have shown there were no Democratic votes cast. We refrained from voting not because we were afraid of the military force present, but because we protested against that usurpation of power that au; thorizes the presence of the military at the ballot box. We believed then, as now, that we were again in the Union, and had the right to cast a free ballot, which could not be done in the presence of the suzerainty of the bayonet. Sir, we were subserviently obedient to the Federal authorities. General Ruger was j then in command in South Carolina, and had j he hung up his old boots in the Capitol and ] written above them, "He who shall dare these j boots displace, must meet the United States i face to face," the order would have been imI plicitly obeyed by every citizen of the State, ! and those old boots would have been as potent in executing the commands of the government as ten times the nlimber of soldiers as were then in the State. It was not the powoi" eir hut. the nresence of the bavonet that drove Democratic voters from the polls during those six long years of anarchy and oppression. Sir, in 1873, I myself told a soldier at the polls, "I will not vote under duress, the Constitution entitles me to the privilege of voting as a freeman, and there is no freedom under that bayonet." For that reason, and for that reason alone, sir, I refrained from voting, and so did the Democrats of the State. But the Republican party claim that the negroes of the South must, of necessity, vote the Republican ticket. Possibly there was an ostensible reason for this thought some years ago ; but to-day there exists potential causes for a reduction of the Republican negro vote at every election. The intellectuality of the race is improving, the more thrifty of them are acquiring property and becoming taxpayers, and find a Democratic incomparably less burdensome to the taxpayers than a Republican government; and thousands of the more ignorant and timid have been rescued by their humane employers from the op pression of their Union leagues and other jesuitical organizations of their race. [Laughter and groans on the Republican side,] Gentlemen may grunt and laugh sardonically at this remark, but it is literally true. 1 have myself accompanied colored men to the ballotbo^ who, with fear and trembling, asked and received protection while they were voting the Democratic ticket. You men of the .North know nothing about the colored race in the South. You are ignoraut of their maimers, customs, traits of character, and their wants; and the gentleman from Michigan, a thousand miles away from any portion of the South, and of all men the most ignorant of the people of that section, presuming to read us a lesson as to how we should deal with the colored man ! If the threats and warning elicted by the proceedings of this House from the Stalwart portion of the Republican party are to be credited, we may anticipate but a few more free elections iu the South. As a Southern farmer I have a greater interest in the welfare of the colored people of the South than all the gentlemen on that side of this Chamber, because upon them and their labor I and mine are, and always expect to be dependent for our support. But, sir, identified from birth with the people of the South and actuated by the instincts of honesty and candor, I declare it as my conviction that further and continued congressional interference with our elections will result in arraying race against race to tbe detriment of the negro. For whatever fate may befall the South, the white people of that section, promted by the first law of nature, will never again quietly submit to negro domination. Eight long years' subjection to an oppression unknown to modern civilization is not to be forgotten in a generation. In South Carolina, and I believe a similar sentiment pervades the South, we desire to see the negro elevated. But, sir, a consummation of that desire will never be attained by a second degradation of the white man. You may draw your party lines upon color; we will meet you thereand extinguish them. Our destiny is to live in the South with the negro, and we expect to work that destiny peacefully, difficult as the problem may seem. But if political legislation denies us, or subverts our rights upon the pre sumption that we have iu any wise curtailed the rights of the colored man, just then and there we will have reached that time in the South anticipated by the honorable gentlemuu from Michigan, when he expressed a fear lest civil liberty would be destroyed uuless election results could be changed iu that section. But if the Americau people will only repose confidence iu the Southern whites and graut them the opportunities circumstances present, I have little doubt but that this problem will be solved satisfactory to both races, and ultimately result in the elevation of the negro, and the continued and, I pray God, the everlasting political quiet between the two sections on his account. A few more words and I have done. Allusion has been frequently made during this debate to the small Republican vote throughout the South iu the recent Pesideutial election, and it has been reiterated that it could not be accounted for upon just grounds. For the first time since I have been a member of Congress have I heard the South censured and South Carolina escape more than the lion's share of the abuse. But it seems the recent vote in that State has given satisfac ^ .1 ? i - . i? 11011 10 Uiose WHO, lor UJC pui |;uac UJ liiio debate, have bewildered themselves with arithmetical calculation. Perhaps these gen tleraen are not aware that during the last campaign South Carolin had no Republican State ticket in nomination, aud in only a few instances a county ticket to represent the Republican party in the campaign of 1880. The ghost of intimidation doubtless presents itself to the mind of every Republican within the sound of my voice at the very announcement of such a fact. But thatsuch a thought is a mere phantom let me prove by printing as a portion of my remarks a letter received this morning from a resident lawyer of this city, who is perhaps the brightest intellect that South Carolina ever gave to the Republican party. He has lately settled in this city, and yesterday afternoon I addressed him a note asking whether he was not a member of the Republican State Convention of South Caroolina, and if he did not publish a letter advising against placing a Republican ticket in the field. I have his reply, and will print it: Washington, D. C., February 5, 1881. Dear Sir: I have your favor of yesterday, and, in reply, would sav that I did publish such a letter as you inquire about. The National Republican party had been injured, and thatof the State broken down and ruined by our running unfit men for oflice. I knew we had not the material for a State ticket in South Carolina, and I felt confident'that if we forebore to nominate one, the Democrats would be more likely to divide, run "Independents" and thus sooner contribute the material needed to build up a respectable and strong Republican party ; one not in name merely, but in principle and usefulness. Entertaining these views, I declined most pressing solicitations to allow my name used before the Convention. I am. very truly yours, Wm. E. Eaui/e. Hon. D. Wvatt Aiken, House of Representatives. Now, this is a letter from an intelligent South Carolinian, born and'reared upon her: soil, who is a Republican from principle; and j it contains two incontrovertible truths: First, i that the Republican party in South Carolina | had not material enough in it from which to select a State ticket; and, secondly, that the only hope of securing that material is to dissever the Democratic party. Think you, does any gentleman on this floor suppose that this end will be obtained by arraying every two or four years in deadly political strife that party which so lacks material against that party alone that possesses it at the South ? . As well may you or they expect to break the I "Solid South" by continually heaping abuses upon those who compose it. My friend from Indiana (Mr. Calkins) with much fervor and great emphasis, asks, What is a carpet-bagger ? in reply I say he is a po1 litical legalized burglar; that is just what a carpet bagger is [laughter and applause on the Democratic side ;] and I say to my friend if he will come to South Carolina with a view of identifying himself with the State, intending to become a citizen, cluiming the protection of that flag that floats over our Speak er's chair, and demanding the right to be recognized as a citizen, at the same time lending a helping hand toward developing the resources of that beautiful country, he will be received with open arms from the mountains to the seashore, and no questions will be asked as to his politics. But, sir, no such mo tives ever impelled the carpet-bagger to settle in South Carolina or any other Southern State. His was the visitation of a political adventurer, who, through the ignorance of the blacks, foisted himself upon the oppressed whites, whom he proceeded at once to tax to impoverishment, while he squandered in luxurious Jiving every dollar poured into the treasury by the tax gatherer. And yet my friend thinks it cruel to call such creatures, "aliens." Why* sir, it is an honor to them to be recognized at all. I beg gentlemen to recall the history of my State during the carpet bag regime and ask what has become of those tyrannical spendthrifts. Some of them doubtless have been hung, as I believe all of them should have been ; some of them are to day, I know, in the jails of the country, and others of them have had in more ways than one retributive justice meted out to them by an offended Provideuce. If there is one remaining in my State, I am not aware of it. And if they had all gone to that other estate, Heaven knows I would not have had a tear to shed at their demise. COME SOUTH, YOUNG MEN! On every side we see indications that the manufacture of cotton is moving Southward. The United States and Great Britain recognize the fact that the fields where the cotton is grown is the proper place for its manufacture. At last capital is coraiug to the aid of common sense aud the intelligence of the North is admitting that the South presents every advantage for the most economical factories. Mr. McClure in his letter from Cincinnati, summarizes the argument in the following truthful language: "The raanfacturers of the North must soon go South with their cotton spindles and looms, and those who go earliest will reap the richest harvest. It is a violation of all the laws of trade to transport the cotton a thousand miles to an inhospitable climate, where water power is unreliable a third of the year, and where it necessarily costs more to sustain labor than where the cotton is grown. Our struggling cotton factories in Pennsylvania would be earning from 10 to 30 per cent, on the great water-powers of the Savannah or the Alabama, where labor is cheap, where the climate is the most genial to be found on the continent, and where the cotton lint can be furnished fresh from the gin. Instead of r\n rtl'Ill rt r\P trans. UJUUIHUg LlIO CiJJCUJO Ul jiuvniug, ut viuut. portation and of re-separating the lint, at much cost to the fibre, the cotton should, and soon will be spun directly from the gin by cheaper labor and turned into better fabrics than can be furnished with all the skill of the North. "Those who say that capital is not safe in the South either know not what they say or mean to be untruthful. In every Southern State there is supreme desire to have the factory everywhere that the raw material is faruished, and South Carolina exempts every factory from taxation for ten years. In both the C'arolinas, Georgia, Texas, Arkansas, Mississippi and Tennessee, there are regular immigration bureaus, not only inviting but urging white settlers, and eveu Mississippi has several of the largest and most successful factories in the South. The cotton crop of this year will be worth 8300,000,000, and when simply spun into yarn it will be worth nearly 8300,000,000 more. Where in all the world is there so wide and tempting a field* for legitimate enterprise and large profits? I believe that half the whole cotton product will be spun in the South before the next ten vpbi'8 and t.hfi Rimceedini7 decade will furnish J a Southern factories for the entire crop. The factory and the school will go hand in hand in the South, and factory princes of the North will next be bull dozing the black man in the South to vote against the present oppressive tariff upon cotton machinery." Such is the prophecy of the intelligent editor of the Philadelphia Times, after personal inspection of the field. We find the editor of the Chicago Times also admitting that the South must become the field for manufacturing cotton. That journal says: "Economists tell us that withiu the next twenty years, America will need 15,000,000 of new spindles, with accompanying machinery, for transformation of the chief product of Southern agriculture into other commodities of commerce. Where should these new spindles be set in operation? The answer of economy is: Where the transformation of the raw material can be effected, and the new commodities placed on the best markets, at the least C03t. Obviously then, the cotton field, the cotton mill aud the railway centre should be brought together. The cotton field cannot be removed from the Southern latitude. Nature has given to the Southern onethird of America, East of the continental backbone, virtually a rainopoly of this product for the world; for, though the climate aud soil of India and }>ortions of Mexico and South America are adapted to the cultivation of cotton, experiment has shown that a new civilization must appear in those countries " * -I'!-.!- L- ft. II.. oeiore 18 CUlllVHUOU can ue suucessiuuj' iutroduced. For an indefinite period of the future, the southern portion of America will continue to be the chief cotton-producing region. Why may it not also be the chief cotton manufacturing region on this continent? Why should not the fact that nature has given that region a monopoly of the cotton-growing iudustry cause to spring up there the most extensive manufacturing industry of this land ?" The only answer that the Chicago Times can find to its question is the old pretext that the South is opposed to the introduction of Northern men and capital. This stereotyped objection, which the facts of the case have exploded, still finds a lodgment in the braiu of the machine editor, who is not yet awake to the fact that the intelligence of the North does not believe his cry and is losing patience at the antedeluvian stupidity. The war and its absurd reconstruction outcome, with all the prejudices and slanders which grew out of partisan debate, belong to the past generation. The men who figured fifteen and twenty years ago are replaced with a new generation who, while not forgetful on either side of the principles involved in the civil war, are disposed to look back at the sad events of that period as the Marquis of Lome, son-in-law of the Queen of Great Britain, looks back to the Battle of Baunockburn or to the Stuarts' overthrow at Culloden. Neither side can live in the past, and the South has been more ready to accept this fact than the North. It is is be expected that at Presidential elections much partisan capital will be made for that party with which the South will not co ope rate, but the froth and fume of the hustings are no indication of settled hostility. Since the recent election there has'been at the North nothing but kind words for the South. Our progress in population and wealth is everywhere admitted, and our peaceful and lawabiding condition has at last challenged an admission from the most violent of our pretended enemies. It remains for the South to encourage this kindly feeling and to invite by the most liberal legislation the approach of Northern men and capital. The strength of our position being admitted, let us break down the last barrier of prejudice.?Mobile Register. A SAD STORY FROM TEXAS. Little Rock, Ark., February 10.?A private telegram from Dallas, Texas, was received last night, which solved a mystery that has for three years baffled persistent search and inquiry, and caused untold agony and suffering worse than death. The facts may be summed up briefly. In 1877 the Robertsons were living in Wise county, Texas. The family consisted of a mother and two boys, the father having died some years before. No family in the neighborhood was raoro highly respected. The widow owned a large plantation, and was AAnoi/1/M?A/l mnaUliif niKiln till tkof wuaiucicu ncaiouj f itiiiiw an tuau the boys had a bright future before them. Henry, the younger, didn't go much into society, preferring home and seclusion. Frank, the elder, went everywhere, and was known far and wide. He was a wild, generous boy, whom everybody liked, and it was thought he had not au enemy in all the world. Possessing rare manly beauty and a pleasing address, he had little difficulty in wiuning the affections of Miss Jennie Bane, daughter of a neighboring planter, and, as there was no impediment to the union, preparations were made for it. It was intended that the marriage should eclipse auy similar event in Wise county. Invitations were issued lavishly ; all the necessary arrangements were conducted on a grand scale ; the night which was to witness the ceremony was beautiful; the season was early Autumn ; the moon shed its light upon the earth ; the flowers were yet in bloom, and the night wind; as it crept through the branches of the trees, carried their odor upon its wings. The planter's house was brilliantly lighted; the guests were arriving in numbers; the strains of music were wailed on the air ; Miss Jessie Bane had donned her bridal dress, and waited, in her chamber, the arrival of the one to whom she would link her destiny. The hour set for the marriage came and went, but no bridegroom appeared. Another hour passed. Then a messenger was dispatched to Robertson's mother, who sent a reply to the effect that Frank had started for the -Bane plantation long before sundown. This fell upon the assembled company like a bombshell. Messengers were dispatched in every direction. The entire neighborhood was scoured for miles around without finding a trace. Daylight dawned, and still there ' was no sign of Frank Robertson. Meautime , the scene at Bane's was distressing in the extreme. The betrothed bride, so strangely for- , saken, gave way to the anguish which op- ( pressed her. A horrible foreboding took . possession of her. With the orange blossoms amid her hair, and arrayed in her bridal robe, she ran from room to room'crying, hysterically, "Frank is dead; iny darling has left me forever!" Soon unconsciousness came to her relief, and in a deathlike swoon she forgot her misery. The music ceased; the guests departed rapidly, full of mingled pity and wonder ; the lights were extinguished ; the grand banquet was thrust aside unnoticed and untasted, and that which had promised to be a brilliant social event resulted in a scene of gloom and mystery. The search for the missing bridegroom was continued all the next day, and for many days thereafter, but without avail. There was no clue, no trace of the young man. From the moment be bade his sick mother good-bye and rode gayly off in the direction of Bane's plantation to meet his bride, he had disappeared, to be seen no more in human flesh. A year went by, and the incident passed into local tradition. Frank Robertson was still missing. His betrothed was a maniac. She has never recovered from the shock his singular disappearance occasioned. To-day, in a private mad-house, she wears her wretched existence out. She is always expecting some one; always watching and waiting for day to dawn and bring her lover. In all this time Mrs. Robertson has not been idle. Since ber son disappeared she has not ??/\n im Unnflo aP finrlinrr kim in. I i giVCU up li.u uTv? U. uuu.n5 ? I stituted a vigorous search. She advertised ; ( and all the Texas and a leading New York paper contained notices, and offers of ?100 reward for a clue or information of Frank, ] dead or alive. There were replies, but the ] clues furnished turned out false, and the } broken-hearted mother almost died beneath , the weight of anxiety, disappointment, and ? suspense. f Two other years went by, making three in ? all which intervened between the present and | the time of the young man's unexplained de- < parture. The mystery seemed as dark as ev- j er. Mrs. Robertson doubled the reward, and < offered a plantation to any one who would { find her missing boy, Two farmers living , near by accepted the offer and dug up Frank ? Robertson's remains from a ravine where s they had buried him ! They claim he was a | horse thief and was lynched by vigilants on | his wedding uight. That he was hanged and e then buried is unquestioned, but whether a ( horse thief is not so clear. The men claim f they were bound by solemn oaths to keep the , actions of the vigilauts (of whomsthey were members) secret, and hence their reluctance ( in revealing the fate of their victim. Mrs. ( Robertson had the skeleton of her son en- ] closed in an elegant coffin and buried in the ( Denton cemetery. The funeral attracted , hundreds, and the comments were various. ? She recently instituted suit against all the ( parties implicated in the hanging, showing a \ disposition to go to the bottom of the matter. , The suit revives all the interest in the affair, , recalling almost forgotten incidents, and, be- ? fore it is ended, there i3 a probability that | some new aod startling developments will add ( to its already sensational features.? Cor. Chi- | cago Times. Pottery in the United States.?A wri- j ter in Harper's Monthly says there are 800 t notteries iu the United States, the total pro- g ducts of which supply 50 per cent, of the ( wares anuually consumed, the chief centres of j the industry being Trenton, the capital of New Jersey, and East Liverpool, in Ohio. The former city offers peculiar attractions ( to the potter, both from its railways and ca- j uals cannecting it with the great cities of the j Union, and its nearness to the mines of the ? raw material. West and Southwest lie the ( coal, kaolin, spar and quartz mines of Penn- ? sylvania, Delaware and Maryland, and east- ] ward the tire aad white clays of New Jersey. , The clays of Ohio, Missouri and Indiana, f and an abuudance of fuel, have built up East Liverpool, making it the ceramic centre of j the West. For thirty years it has been enga- , ged in the manufacture of the ordinary Rock- | ingham and yellow wares, furnishing the j greater portion of the $2,000,000 worth an- ? nually produced in this country. It was not I { until 1873 that white ware of any description j engaged the attention of the Liverpool pot- , ters; to-day white granites, serai-chinas and "cream color" are manufactured in fourteen thriving establishments, and one or two firms ; are experimenting in china. ! BRAWLS IN CONGRESS. Oq the 29th of January, 1835, an attempt was made to assassinate General Jackson oa the portico of the Capitol, at a funeral ceremony, by Richard Lawrence, a painter by trade, and resident of Washington. He exploded two caps on the pistols in the attempt. The pistols were afterwards found to be well loaded, and Jackson's escape was considered miraculous. The would-be assassin was knocked down and taken into custody. Gen. Jackson always believed that this act was perpetrated at the instigation of some of the friends of the Federal Bank. Prior to this, in 1833, Gen. Jackson was assaulted while sitting down reading a newspaper oa the boat at Alexandria, but the frier.ds of the assailant succeeded in getting him out of the way in good time. It was in these days that Henry A. Wise made an ugly face at speaker Polk ou the street and spat at him. In February, 1838, Mr. Cilley of Maine charged in his speech in the House that T v??B uaiuea t? uwuu it cuu, cuiiaja ui mo York Courier and Enquirer, had received a bribe of $52,000 from the Bank of the United States. Graves of Kentucky took up Webb's quarrel, and Henry A. Wise bore bis chal- ? lenge to Cilley. General George W. Jones was Cilley'a second. Bladensburg was the place and the weapons were rifles. The rifles rang out and both missed. The challenge was withdrawn to give opportunity for reconciliation. The attempt failed and the principals again took position, Wise remarking r,hat if the matter was not terminated by this shot he would propose to shorten the distance. The rifles rang again and Cilley fell dead. Henry A. Wise, the Ajax in these scenes, struck Stanley, from North Carolina, a blow at the race course. Stanley demanded the usual satisfaction. The demand was withdrawn for explanation. Wise explained that "understanding Stanley come in collision with him unintentionally near the race course, he deemed it to be his duty, as a gentleman, to say that the blow, inflicted byiiim on Stanley through a sudden impulse produced by erroneous impressioni;:, demanded his profound regret." Stanley's friends told him he was bound to accept the explanation, which he did. It was in April, 1850, when the compromise measures were under discussion, that the scene between Foote and Benton took place - ^ *n in tbe senate, jp oote was ma&iug a speeuu and made allusion to Benton. Benton rose hastily from bis seat, pushing his chair violently from him, and without remark or gesture moved up the aide toward Foote, who was about twenty foet distant Benton had no weapon in his hand or upon his person. Foote, perceiving Benton's movement, advanced to meet him drawing and cocking a five chambered revolver. Members intervened, and order was restored. Benton said a pistol had been brought to assassinate him. Foote replied he had only brought it for selfdefense. Benton replied that was always the pretext of an assassin. Io 1854, Churchwell and Cullum bad their "set-to" in the House. Churchwell pronounced language used by Cullum infamously false. Cullum, who sat about fifteen feet from Churchwell, sprang from his seat with coth fists upraised, and exclaiming, "G?d 1?n you, you d?n rascal," tried to "get at" lim. Cullum said Churchwell drew a pis:ol on him. The Speaker pounded; the Sergeant at-Arms fumed and?held up his naco! But calm succeeded as it always loes?after a time. It was the 22d of May, 1856, that Preston 5. Brooks, a member of the House from South Carolina, came into the Senate Cham/^Atrri o nrl Vton f Sonntnr JCl HUU KUUbBtU uvnu uuu uv?> w?... Sumner, from Massachusetts. Brooks afterwards challenged Senator Henry Wilson, who was opposed to the code. He also challenged Burlingame, who accepted, and named ;he Canada side at Niagara Falls, and proceeded there. Brooks declined to meet burlingame at that point, alleging that the place )f meeting had been expressly named because it would be impossible for him to be present. In the same year a scene occurred in the House between Mr. Sherman of Ohio (now Secretary Sherman), and Mr. Wright of Tenlessce. Sherman tried to throw a handful of wafers in Wright's face, when Wright made in attempt to strike him. Confusion and excitement prevaled for a moment, but was soon illayed. FIYE WEEKS IN A TRANCE. Physicians in Newark, New Jersey, have seen deeply interested lately in a curious case )f hysteria in that city. For five weeks Miss Anna Ward, the 16 year old step-daughter of Alexander Johnson, of the Mutual Benefit Life Insurance Company, lay in a trance. Last Winter she was seriously ill for weeks with typhoid fever. Wiien she recovered it was deemed best not to allow her to return to ichool until September. Then she found that ihe bad fallen behind her class-mates in her itudies. Feeling that she was strong, as she lad spent the Summer at Long Branch and Saratoga, she began to apply herself diligenty to her studies to make up for lost time, she overtasked her brain, her health failed ifter a few weeks and she was compelled to withdraw from school. Her sickness became serious, and in the latter part of November the fell into a trance. She lay quietly in her ied with her eyes sometimes open and some;imes shut, but recognizing no one, and never ipeaking. No sound escaped her, and it was evident she sulfered no pain. There was a slight twitching of the eyelids, but little other novement. Dr. William O'Gorman, the family physician, called Dr. A. N. Dougherty and Dr. E. 3. Seguin, of this city, to consult with him. [t was quickly determined that the strange lisease wasnot catalepsy, for the patient's irras when raised fell back upon the bed instead of remaining where placed. It was concluded that she was a victim of hysteria, n an atrtrravated forrp. resulting frem over study. The severest electric shocks caused lot even the twitching of a muscle. After several days had passed Dr. O'Gorman, not mowing how long the trance would last, deeded to administer liquid food artificially, as ;he patient could not swallow. About New Year's day she revived, and low she is able to ride out, and seems to be estored to health. While she was in trance he physicians were satisfied that she was conscious, and proved it two or three times. Dnce Dr. Seguin said for a test, "She's a very iretty girl." Immediately she blushed. She says she was conscious, but had only me thought, and that a terrible one. She eared constantly that the physicians would ironounce her dead, and she would be iburied ilive. She had no physical pain, but this Iread was agonizing. In vain did she try to ipeak. She could not even move her lips, [t is supposed that the twitching of the eyes was caused by her efforts to speak or gave a jign of life. A physician said yesterday that he had mown of only one other case of hysteria that was at all like this. Within the last month, le was called to see a lady who became a vie;im within a week after her marriage. The ihock to her nervous system resulted in a ;rance state, and a partial suspension of all sense of feeling, but after a few days she became conscious. Hop An old editor had a new shirt-collar presented him,, and he is now waiting for some one to give him a shirt.