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HOYT & CO., Proprietors. ANDERSON O. H., S. C, THURSDAY MORNING, APRIL 21, 1870. VOLUME 5?NO. 43. A TERRIBLE ENCOUNTER. Love, Jealousy, Mistaken Identity* and a Tragedy. Many years ago, my health having become much impaired by over study, I was recom? mended to pass a winter in the South of France. Of so agreeable a prescription I readily availed myself. I was without wife or child to encum? ber my departure; and, armed only with a portmanteau, made a most delightful journey of it to the charming town of V-. Shortly after my arrival, while sitting at the "window of my hotel, a man passed bv so very much like myself that, struck with the resem? blance^ I rose, and leaning forward, followed him with my pves. His dress bespoke him an Englishman. Me was tall; so was I. Slim; I was slim. His eyes were blue, his skin fair, his hair a deep auburn, his nose acquiline. All this was iay portrait When he had reached the bottom of the street, he paused, looked round, then slowly returned, crossing the road, however, and taking the opposite pavement. This enabled me to get a clearer view of the man. I confess I was much impressed with the resemblance, and hardly liked it. The physi? ologist, I thought may delight as much as he pleases in such coincidences; for my part I de? cidedly object to being made a portion of any sort o? phenomenon. I had read of very un? pleasant consequences following personal re? semblances, ana earnestly hoped that this in? dividual, whom nature, short of moulds at the time, had undoubtedly cast in mine would speedily clear the neighborhood of his presence. A week or two after this, in taking a walk across a beautiful bit of adjacent country, I sud? denly encountered my likeness seated on a rus? tic bench 1>eneath a tree with his arm encir? cling the waist of a very beautiful peasant girL Hex skin, of a pure and cream-like tint, finely contrasted with the splendid luxuriance of black hair. Her eyes flashed upon me. .as I passed, and I noticed ier draw Herself erect with rapid hauteur, 'aj^.if indignant or impatient of de? tection. The man by . her side, who would have passed Tery well ibr me to any. other person but my mother and myself, still maintained his cares? sing attitude. He did not condescend to raise his eyes to me as I passed, but kept them fixed upon the face of the girl, who, I could see, watched me with a species of sullen eagerness, as if wishing me well out of sight As I passed them, I must confess of having experienced a momentary sensation of envy of die man. Since nature has put him in my skin, I thought, it seems only fair that I should put myself in his shoes. For all I know, I reflec? ted, that beautiful peasant girl might have been originally destined for me; out the intention of nature has been defeated by her love of coinci? dence. I laughed at my thoughts as I walked on, and turning a corner I lost sight of the lovers. On Teaching the bottom of the lane, I found that I had Mien upon a cul-de-sac. The pas? sage terminated in series of fields, across which I could discover no footpath. I had no wish to be arrested for trespassing, so I decided on re? turning the way I had come. On sighting the bench, I found it was deser? ted. I was not sorry. I would by no means have disliked another peep at the beautiful, brunette; bat, at the same time, I had no am? bition to inspire the couple with the notion that I was watching them. I had got to the top of the hill, and I was passing between a row of thick bushes, making a sort of natural hedge for a broad area of trees, like a gigantic park, when I was sudden? ly startled by a report of a pistol discharged to my left At the same moment I heard the hol? low sound of a ball striking my bet, and that article of dress rolled on the ground. I looked round with a pale face. The at? tack was horribly sudden. Who, i-i the name of heaven, wanted my life ? For what crime was my blood demanded? What bad I done? I saw'the blue smoke curling np from the den? sest portion of the bushes, and heard the crack? ling of the furze and twigs caused by the hasty flight of some one. I picked up my hat The ball had passed clean through it. Had it struck two inches lower, it would have entered my skull. I hastened toward the town, possessed with much the same sort of enviable feelings as you might imagine a Tipperary landlord or agent would feel who sees threats of his life carved on every other tree. Bravery in a situation of this sort was quite out of the question. Of what use is pluck when you have to deal with invisible foe's ? I might also confess to having broken into downright flight as I neared the town?so extremely anxious was I to escape every sheltering bush, tree or hedge in the neighborhood. On gaining my hotel I began to rc fleet on my narrow escape. I had been too much excited to attach to it the significance it demanded. Bat the hole in my hat conveyed the most shuddering information on my narrow escape. Beyond all r easonable doubt my life within that hour had only been worth two paltry inches. I repeated the question to myself: "Who wants my life? And, if anybody wants it, what are their chums? What have I done to merit assassination ?" Being wholly unable to answer these queries, I resolved to make a con? fident of my host the hotel keeper. I called him to my room, and told him what had hap? pened. He shrugged his shoulders and ex? claimed: "Monsieur., like the rest of mankind, must pay the penalty of love I" "Butf* said L shocked at his sang-froid "I have not made love. Since I have been here I Am not conscious of even having looked at a fro man?much less spoken to one." "Then it is an enigma," he replied. "The only solution that I can offer you is?that you have been mistaken for some one else." "Bon Dien /" I exclaimed. "You have un? doubtedly hit the mark. I have beer, mistaken ?and I know for whom. Have you not Been a man in this town bearing a striking resem? blance to me?" ? "No," was the answer. "Well, my friend, I have. The moment I saw him, I felt uncomfortable. I had a pre? sentment of evil?you will oblige me by letting me have your bill. I shall go to Paris to-night If I stop here another day, my life, which lieft England to fortify, will be snuffed out like a candle." The hotel keeper, seeing matters come to a point that affected his interests, endeavored to fcugh down my thoughts. He argued that the ball I had received in my hat might have been destined for a bird: that it was the shot of some wretched marksman, who had mistaken my hat for a crow. "That may all be very well," I answered; 4tbut suffer me to tell you that your excuse only makes me more resolute to leave this place; for of what value is a man's life in a district abounding with sportsmen who can mistake a hat for a crow ?" A train left for Paria at 2:36. It was an ex fress and I found it to be due at eight o'clock, dispatched my portmanteau by a porter to the station, and having twenty minutes before me. sat down to a slight repast of cold fowl and via ordinaire. The position of my table enabled me to get a view of the street As the porter strode away with my luggage, I observed a man cross the road and accost him. In reply to what was obviously a question, the porter, with the gesticulations of a Frenchman, pointed, with his thumb to the hotel, and vigorously nodded his head. The man crossed over again to the pavement, came on until he was opposite the hotel, caught sight of me through the window, and abruptly turning on his heel, walked off in the direction taken by the porter. I thought nothing of this. The man, I con? jectured, probably, wanted the job I had given to the ]>orter. He was a common-looking fel? low, dressed in leather gaiters, a blouse, a slouched cap and a belt. There was nothing singular in his face. He was dark, with a black beard aud moustache. He was a familiar type of the middle-aged peasant of Southern France. Having discharged my bill. I walked to the railway station. On one platform there was much tumult, a train from Paris having just arrived. But upon the platform against which stood the train that was to bear me to the north, I counted only five people, exclusive of por? ters. But I had little time for observation. The train would leave in three minutes. I saw my portmanteau stowed away in the luggage van, procured myself a first-class ticket and took my seat The shrill whistle of the guard sounded. The engine gave a snort and the line of carriages clanked to their chains as they tightened to the strain. Suddenly sevend voices, cried, "Stop I stop! Now, then, quick I Which class?first? Let's see your ticket. Right. Here you are? jump in I" The door of my carriage was oj>en ed, a form bounded in, the door was slammed, there was another shrill whistle and off went the train. I looked at my companion. He was the man whom I had noticed speak to the porter and stare in the window of my hotel. A thrill passed over me. My recent escape had greatly shaken my nervous system; and the apparition of the man whom I felt I ought to suspect sent a chill through my blood. As a peasant, which he was?not expressed in dress, but in hands, which were dirty, rough and hor? ny?what did he do in a first-class carriage ? I would have given something to have exchanged carriages. But there was no communication with the guard. Moreover, the train, as I have told you, was an express, and did not stop until a run of sixty miles had been accomplished. We were now bowling away with great rapidity. The man sat, screwed up in a corner away from me, immovable. He appeared to be look? ing through the window at the country as it whirled by; but there was an abstracted ex? pression in his gaze which indicated that he saw nothing. His arms were folded upon his breast. Though he must have been conscious of my scrutiny, he never turned his eyes upon me. His lips, I saw, were tightly compressed and he breathed slowly, but deeply, through his nose, the nostrils of which diluted to the steady respiration. 1 began after a little to regain my composure. I struggled to laugh down my fears. What, I thought, had I to fear from a man I had never seen?who had never seen me? The thing was preposterous. I extracted a paper from my pocket and commenced to read. I might have spoken to him, only I imagined that a man in his situation ttight have been embarrassed at my French, which I did not speak with a good accent Besides, there was something that re? pelled all approach in his immobility. Half an hour passed away. All at once, over the edge of my newspaper, I saw him put his hand out of the window, as if to open the door. I had no time to conjecture his inten? tions, when, with a wild screaming whistle, we hurled into the night of a long tunnel. The rapid disappearance of daylight made the oil lamp suspended in the carriage emit but the dullest light for some minutes. ? I laid the newspaper down with all my old fears revived in me. I had scarcely done so when I saw the outline of a man nse in the carriage. He leaped over to me where I was seated. I saw the gleam of a knife in the air. Mad with passion and surprise, I grasped the descending arm. A furious determination to preserve my life inspired me with the strength of a giant. The ferocity with which I seized the wrist forced the hand open. The knife fell, and then commenced a silent furious straggle. He seized me by the collar and clung with the tenacity of a tiger. I heard him snapping his teeth as if he were endeavoring to bite. We swayed from one end of the carriage to the other. I felt how weak ill health had left mc, and prayed to pass out into the light, that I might the better see how to encountw the ruf? fian. Suddenly I felt myself swung around with tremendous energy. I bounded against a door which opened, and we fell on the linep in the very center 01 the tunnel. The fall seemed to have stunned him, for he fell under me and remained there for a time motionless! For myself I received an inde? scribable shock, such as is experienced in a col? lision : but I retained my senses. I heard the roar of the train dying away in the distance. I saw the red gleam fading like the eye of a dying demon. I still clutched- him by the throat, nor did I dare relinquish it. My situa? tion was frightful. I suspected that a down train would soon be passing, and in the intense blackness of the tunnel I could not see on which line we had fallen. I would have stretched forth my hand to grope for the rails ; I might have found a place of safety by judg? ing of the distance between them ;but 1 felt the form of my assailant commencing to writhe be? neath me. His struggles grew fiercer. He en? deavored to rise, but with the fury of despair I kept him pressed down, one hand on his throat, the other on his breast. What I desired was to render him insensible. I would then leave him in the darLne.^ts, and grope my way as I could. It never occurred to me at the time that there was no need to make him insensible in order to elude him. The darkness would have rendered my presence invisible to him. But my mind was hopelessly confused. I wtis breathing a sulphurous air made thick and difficult by its blackness. My only thought was to keep the ruffian down. I was only capable, indeed, of this thought. A few minutes had elapsed when I heard a distant rumbling like approaching thunder. It increased. I seemed w feel a wind blowing against my face. I tfisted, too, a continuous draught of smoke and steam. I knew that a train was approaching, and my hair lifted on my head. What rails were we on ? The sus? pense was frightful. My assailant increased his struggles. Hebe came furious. Ho was evidently fighting to throw me down, and over in the direction of that side of the tunnel', along which came the roar of the train. I saw his object, and madly pressed upon .him. His body frantically writh? ed. He twisted under :me as if he revolved upon a pivot. He endeavored to shriek some words to me, but my throttling grasp made his voice no more than a horrible hoarseness. I saw thn red and green lights of the engine approaching. They grew in size and luster with a hideous rapidity. There was a roar, a I shower of dust, a wind that struck me down like a blow from a strong man's fist; then fol lowed the dying rattle, ending in a dull and sullen moan. I rose to my feet I crossed over to the wall, and, feeling along it, took a walk with all the speed my sinking frame would suffer me to put forth. How long I walked I know not. My passage seemed interminable. The damp of the wall against which my hand constantly pressed froze my blood. Now and then I stumbled over piles of rubbish lying grouped against the side; and sometimes my groping was bewildered by my coming across recesses into which my hands guided me. At length I saw a star, tremulous, glorious, in the distance. It was daylight; the aperture of the tunnel, and I pushed forward with in? vigorated spirits. I neared it slowly, for this star seemed to maintain an inexorable distance, and would not enlarge. How shall I describe my joy as I gained the twilight of its reflection ?as I advanced and felt the pure air of heaven upon my dry cheeks and burning lips?I saw the blue sky, and the d^m vista of pale, green banks 1 As I got into the light, a cry escaped my lips. My trowsers were splashed with blood. There was one ensanguined line, as if a fountain of blood had played upon me. I "seated myself to recover my strength, I could see that I presented a dismal and terrible spectacle. My coat was torn, my hands were black?so, too, I judged, was my face?my col? lar had been torn from me, and the skin at the ends of my fingers had been lacerated. After reposing myself I climbed the bank, and per? ceived M the distance of about a mile a small station. I made toward it, and gained it. A railway official, who was standing looking at tiro children playing in a back garden, uttered a loud cry of alarm as he spied me. I narrated my story to him as coherently as I could, and then sunk upon the ground in a fainting condi? tion. Of what happened after this I have no re? membrance. When I came to my senses I dis? covered that I had been taken to the house of the station-master and carefully tended by his wife. From him I learned the conclusion of this singular incident in my life. It seems that after my story had been told, two men were dis? patched into the tunnel in search of my assail? ant. They discovered him lying dead with both his legs cut clean off a little above the knees. They bore the corpse to the adjacent dead-house, and an inquiry into his death brought out par? ticulars that are easily anticipated. The man who so very closely resembled me at V had seduced the betrothed of a laborer, one Theodore Vertot. This Theodore, reckless now of life, and resolutely bent on vengeance, swore to kill her seducer. Mistaking me for his enemy, he attempted to shoot me. This fail? ing, he hung about the hotel, armed with a stiletto, determined to stab me whenever I should appear on the street Hearing, however, that I was about leaving for Paris, ne perceived a better and safer means of prosecuting his design, by stabbing mc in the tunnel through which he knew we would pass, and then escaping in the darkness. Re? flection had obviously taught him that revenge would be none the less sweet because it did not entail his destruction by the law. Such is the simple but tragical story. My prototype, who had been the means of twice imperiling my life, I have never seen since. I coiifess to no wish to see him. It is bad enough to have to bear the brunt of one's own follies; it is altogether miserable to suffer for the fol? lies of others. Ever since the occurrence of this small episode, I have always thought there is a much wiser providence manifested in the dissimilarity between man and man than our philosophers suffer us to dream of.?Gentlemen's Magazine. Honor Yotjs Business.?"We commend this paragraph from the London Economist, to all who nave a "vocation:" "It is a good sign when a man is proud of his work or his calling. Yet nothing is more com? mon than to hear men finding fault continually with their particular business, and deeming themselves unfortunate because fastened to it by the necessity of gaining a livelihood. In this spirit men fret, and laboriously destroy all their comfort in the work; or they change their business, and go on miserably, shifting from one thing to another, until the grave or the poor house gives them a fast grip. But while occa? sionally a man fails in life oecause he is not in the place fitted for his peculiar talent, it hap? pens ten times offener than failure results from neglect and even contempt of an honest busi? ness. A man should put his heart into every? thing that he does. There is not a profession that nas not its peculiar cares and vexations. No man will escape annoyance by changing business. No mechanical business is altogether agreeable. Commerce, in its endless varieties, is affected, like all other human pursuits, with trials, unwelcome duties, and spirit-tiring ne? cessities. It is the very wantonness of foliy for a man to search out the frets and burdens of his calling, and give his mind every day to the con? sideration of them. They belong to human life. They are inevitable. Brooding over them only gives them strength. On the other hand, man has power given him to shed beauty and Eleasure upon the homeliest toil, if he is wise. ,et a man adopt his business and identify it with his life, and cover it with pleasant asso? ciations ; for God has given us imaginations, not alone to make some poets, but to enable all men to beautify homely things. Heart-varnish will cover up innumerable evils and defects. Look at the good thing. Accept your lot as a man does a piece of rueged ground, and begin to get out the rocks and roots; to deepen and mellow the soil to enrich and plant it. There is something in the most forbidding avocation around which a man may twine pleasant fancies, out of which he may develop an honest pride." J Slate Pencils?Twenty years ago, all the slate pencils used were manufactured in Ger? many. She then supplied America with this commodity. In 1850, there was a young man living in West Rutland, Vt, eighteen years of age, who fortunately discovered a supply of stone for making a first-class article of slate pencils. He began by whittling out the pen? cils and selling them to school children. Being a better article than that for sale in the stores, he found a ready sale for all he could whittle out. He became possessed of the idea that there was a fortune in the business, and his dream has been realized This quarry of slate pencil Btonc was situated in a large ravine, four miles north of Castlcton, Vt, near Bemoseen Lake. The land on which it is situated was for sale at $100. He purchased it, and be? gan operations by sawing out the pencils and whittling them round. The business of making them grew immensely on his hands, so that it was impossible to keep a cioan order book. Machinery was invented to facilitate the process, which lias reached something like Scrfection, and enormously increases the pro uction of pencils. At present, the quarry and mills are owned by a joint stock company. They arc valued at $300,000. From fifty to one hundred thousand pencils are turned out daily, and upwards of a hundred hands are j employed in the quarry and in the mill. ' Building up the Sooth. An excellent symptom, in the new movement of population and industry, now so rapidly tending Southward, is that bodies of settlers, of both native and foreign birth, are starting out upon the co-operative principle, combining their own means and their experience in vari? ous practical pursuits with moderate capital offered to them by responsible parties. We have heard of several enterprises of this kind, within two or three weeks, and are inclined to augur well for their success. Only a few days ago an expedition of about 100 persons sailed in a small vessel from this port, for a certain point in Florida, taking with them implements, cottages in detached pieces that may be run up in a few hours, seeds, and live stock. Another set out last week for Georgia, and there are several more about to leave New York, Boston, Philadelphia and Baltimore, for Southern destinations. Among these small colonies which have late? ly been, or are just about to be established, the Swiss and German community at Grutli, in Grundy county, Tennessee, already in opera? tion, may serve as a very fair specimen. One of our valued German exchanges, the Baltimore Weder, gives a long and interesting detailed account of it, in a series of letters from the spot, and the encouragement they afford may be useful to other intending colonists and set? tlers. In October, 1869, there were 15 lots, of 100 acres each, left for sale to private parties of the original purchase. In less than two weeks after the fact was made publicly known, all of them were taken up. The result was that the Swiss Consul from Knoxville visited the spot, and made two additional purchases for the colony not far from Tracy City, and ly? ing along the Chattanooga Boad. Together, the quantity of and thus added was 8,900 acres, which have been readily sold at $100 to ?115 for the hundred acre lot. Ninety-five families are already established at the colony with homes of their own, and more are rapidly coming. They are clearing away the forestj and extend? ing their grain and vegetable culture with mar? velous speed; they have a saw mill and a flour mill; several stores, of different kinds; black? smith, wagon-making and butcher shops ; and among the handicrafts, carpenters, turners, shoemakers, tailors, etc., all fully employed, and they are now building a handsome school house. This is the true way to go to work, and we are happy to know that these spots of light are swiftly breaking out over the surface of those portions of the South which have hitherto been reposing in the silence and darkness of the primitive wilderness. These are ''the armies of peace" which are destined to achieve the truly grand triumphs of our time, and we take all the more pride in their steady and victori? ous march that, from first to last, in spite of all discouragement-*the forebodings of the timid, and' the sneers of the skeptical?we have urged and favored this emigration of the sturdy Eu? ropean stock to the Canaan of the South. Al? ready, the bug-bear stories of a deadly climate and hostile population have been scattered to the winds; and the margin of Northern cul? ture, industry and thrift begins to fringe the Gulf. It is pleasant to have had a part in so glorious a revolution.?N. Y. Mercantile Jour? nal. Education of the Colored Race. It is likely that no Southern man of intelli? gence is opposed to the education of the color? ed race, since they have been endowed with the rights and duties of citizenship. These duties are very responsible; for the nature of the laws in force and the character of the men who hold office in a republican government, depend al? most entirely upon the manner in which its citizens discharge their duties to the State, es? pecially that of voting. This being undeniable, it becomes a matter of prime importance that all citizens should be, to some extent, educated. Unless they have intelligence and understand the nature of their duties as citizens, it is sim? ply unreasonable to expect a wise exercise of their rights or discharge of their duties. The negro race have oeen suddenly called up? on to act the part of citizens, without any pre? vious experience, or even any definite idea of what they ought to do. It would have been the wisest thing that the Southern people could have done, to have at once entered upon the work of educating them. But, though the ne? groes have been anxious to secure education, tor their children at least, and though every? body admits that education is imperatively [ needed for the colored people, very few South : ern men have done anything to encourage meas? ures for this end. The colored people have, in ! not a few instances, requested the services of Southern teachers; but have rarely been able to get them. The consequence is that they ap? plied to the Frcedmeu's Bureau, and got what they wanted. We are led to make these remarks because we have been applied to recently, to secure Southern teachers for two negro schools, which will probably have nearlv a hundred scholars. After applying to several persons, one gentle? man was founa willing to teach a school of this kind. The other school is still vacant, and un? less a teacher is found soon, those who have charge of it will apply to the Bureau, although they much prefer to get a citizen of this county. There seem to be two objections to taking a colored school?the uncertainty of getting pav and the fear of what the neighbors will think of it. The first objection is unfounded, as the State ensures five cents per day for each scholar unable to pay; the second is unworthy of any man of independence who feels conscious of honorable intentions, and is unjust to his neigh? bors, nine-tenths of whom will applaud both his motives and his action. Wc hope our readers will meditate npon this subject. If they desire to cement the ties of in? terest and good will between themselves and the colored race, they can do so in no better man? ner than by showing an interest in and encour? aging colored schools. The negroes are deter? mined to educate their children, and the white people of each locality are the proper persons to teach tho colored children of that locality. The expenses of this work will be paid by them, as the pay for free schools comes out of the county taxes. They have it in their power to see that this money is used for promoting good? will between all races here; but if they prefer, it will be paid to those who will exert the pow? erful influence of an instructor to make the colored people distrust their white neighbors. Which shall it be??Yorkvillc Enquirer, ? A Washington correspondent of the Wor? cester Spy relates the following: "Senators have the use of a handsome bath-room. Attached to it is a barber-shop. Mr. Garrett Davis is ?reported to have been a daily customer. Re? cently he was in as usual. Passing just beyond the door, he looked in amazement at a vision on which his eyes rested. There sat his col? league from Mississippi, Senator Revels, evi? dently not long from the bath-room, and enjoy? ing the luxury of a comfortable shave. Gar? rett looked on in horror, and then as he real? ized the situation, turned on his heel and walked out. He has not been in since, and it is reported, has moved to strike out the bath? room appropriation from the bill." The Colored Vote??ur True Policy. If any man imagines that the colored vote of this State is to be diverted from the radical party in the next election in this State, then, in our judgment, he deceives himself We re? gard it our duty to speak candidly. Weinteiad neither to deceive our friends nor ourselves. We regard it the highest policy to look mat? ters squarely in the lace and then to do what is best under all the circumstances of the cane. We have accepted the declaration of the press conference as due to our recognition of accom? plished facts, but not expecting said, declara? tion to have any influence upon the colored voters of the State. In our judgment, the great mass of the colored voters will vote for the regular nominees of the radical party, in convention assembled. The sooner Democrats and anti-radicalists understand this, the better for the cause of those arrayed against the radi? cal regime of the State. We have expressed our disposition as a Dem? ocratic journal, to engage in a general anti radical rally. But, it is due to ourselves to say, that we regard the "Citizens' Party" for? mation as a grand mistake. Upon the basis of a Democratic platform?upon the basis of a vital and progressive Democracy?we believe that the opposition to radicalism ought to be organized. This, it is true, would not give us the State on the general ticket, but it could give us Democratic representatives from 12,13, 14 or 15 Counties. Failing to carry the entire State, as we must fail, the next best step is to put in the Legislature a band of able, earnest and devoted Carolinians, opposed to tne domi? nant party. Our programme, then, is less am? bitious than that of the "Citizens' Party," but it is more sure. Another point?let a party called "the Citizens' Party" nominate a "Con? servative Republican," and, in our judgment, a stronger radical vote will be arrayed against him than could be against a bold, open and avowed Democrat. These are our views. It may be that a majority of our political friends think otherwise. But we desire to be under? stood. In our deliberate judgment, to sink the Democratic organization in this State into a. "Citizens' Party," is to dull the edge of the opposition to radicalism and to impair the cause of the State and the cause of the coun? try. But perhaps we shall be over-ruled. When the convention of the anti-radicalists of the State shall speak, it may be our duty to defer?at least, to be silent?if no more. Li the meantime, the Phamix will not flaunt its Democracy offensively into every anti-radical ist's face, but let it be known, that as vet. we see no reason to give up that cause which so many good and true men in the North, South, East and West, yet deem it their duty to stund by. But there is yet another and very impor? tant point that we desire to make. We wish to say to our friends that this State is to be re? deemed and regenerated neither by Democracy nor any other party. Politically, the State must be radical tor several years to come. The colored voters will vote the radical ticket, not because they cannot stand the Democratic par? ty, but because they like and love and swear by the radical party. Now, our proposition is to stop seeking negro votes. "Ephraim is joined to his idols, let him alone." The lead? ers of the negroes have said: "To your tents, oh Israel!" and "Israel" has obeyed. Yes? we repeat it?stop trying to win negroes and try the game of winning white immigrants. Let no man think and feel and act as if be held that the destinies of these Southern Stal es are dependent upon the votes of the colored man. Let him vote as he will, and, in the meantime, let the men of the South?fairly, justly, faithfully, manfully work out their own salvation. In an industrial sense, it is true? "Who would bo free, themselves must strike the blow." Let our people realize their necessities. Let us understand that these necessities are in the line of labor and industrial development. Let us organize in every Southern State, bureaus of immigration. By some practical means, give an impetus to immigration and the stream will flow on. Why should it not? African slavery has been removed, and we have greater attractions in productions, in climate and in soil, than the Isorth. We must labor now not for victories in the forum, not for laurels of logic and rhetoric, not for merely mental achievements, but for population and wealth and enterprise. What, then, is our conclusion ? It is this : Let political fidelity and self-respect l)e main? tained ; but, above all, let it be understood and felt in every fibre of our being, that the best politics?the most reliable politics?for the State and the South is, the amplest material development and the largest flow of immi? grants. To utilize and foster the colored labor that we have, but to supplement it with white labor?to improve the colored citizenship that we have, but to augment the white citizenship; this is the policy of common sense.?Columbia Phanix. A Card from a Democratic Member of the Legislature. To the Editor of the Republican? Sir : I see in your weekly issue of the 19th inst. a charge upon certain of the Democratic members of the General Assembly as being guilty of complicity in the bribery and corrup? tion so generally supposed to be a distinguish? ing characteristic of that body. I also notice in the same paper an extract from the Marion Star, in which the editor says he has been in? formed of the existence of a company in the Legislature known as the "Forty Thieves," who could be bought for $25 and upwards, accord? ing to rank, &c, and that the said company was headed by a Democrat from one of th? upper counties, &c. Not knowing upon whom so grave a charge as this might fasten, and believing that each one should answer for himself, I take this oc? casion, so far as these charges refer to myself, to pronounce them false without qualification, both in letter and spirit, and to assure ray fel? low-citizens that whilst I entertain no doubt of the existence of corruptions and bribery in our Legislature, my own skirts are clear Nor do I believe any respectable membef of the Legislature, either Democratic or Republi? can, would, for one moment, give credence to a charge of this kind as in any wise applying to myself. Since my connection with tne South Carolina Legislature I have endeavored to cul? tivate patriotism, which is said to be the high? est civic virtue. I loathe and detest that spirit which would induce one to sell his birth-right for a mess of pottage, or sacrifice the people's good to secure his own selfish ends-;-this must certainly be the lowest civic occupation. Respectfully, Claude C. Turner, Spartanburg, S. C, March 24,1870. ? A young married couple in a Wisconsin town lately began housekeeping, and the first purchases of the head of the family at the village grocery were: Five cents worth of soda, five cents worth of salt, two cents worth of peppeT, one cent worth %cf chewing-gum and twelve cents worth of soap. The bill amounted to twenty-five cents, which was paid by the young Benedict in specie, and as he left the store lie remarked to the clerk that "keeping house is cheaper than boarding." ' The Lahor Problem at the South. We regard it as a sign of industrial con vales* cence that the people of almost every Southern State are earnestly discussing the questions cf production, of emigration, of manufactures and material recuperation of thaf section. They seem to have reached a full, albeit a tardy, re? alization of the folly of their policy previous to the war, and to evince a disposition to avail themselves of the opportunity for a fuller de? velopment which has just been presented to them by emancipation. They are evidently beginning to appreciate the true reason why the North has so steadily outstripped the South in the race for material prosperity, as well as of physical power, during the last three-quarters of a century. With infinitely greater attrac? tions in climate, soil and profitable production, the South has steadily fallen behind in the struggle for supremacy in population, territo? rial development and wealth. The explanation of this ifs to be found in the social aristocracy, the spirit of isolation and the degradation of labor, which were the inevitable results of slavery. There is no question that but for these obstacles the South would have absorbed a large share of the emigration and enterprise which poured into thewWestern States, and which not only made that section the garden of the world, but has given it the political control of the whole country. Emancipation suddenly changed the policy as well as the requirements of Southern, civil? ization, and notwithstanding it has taken five years of severe and painful discipline to effect a realisation of the iactj the delay has been salutary, and the transition more healthy and Eermanent by reason of the delay. The people ave had an opportunity to study out the solu? tion of the problem for themselves. They have been made to appreciate the true digni y and mission of labor, and to get rid of the false notions which they previously entertained. They see that the presence among them of four millions of people suddenly transformed from slaves to freedmen, required a correspond? ing change of sctfal ideas. If not profitably employed, the blacks would surely become a dangerous social element, but if they were so employed, and speedily, they could readily be made a means of development and wealth even greater than they were before the war. Two things were necessary to effect this. The blacks were to be encouraged to adopt proprietary labor, and it was essential that they should ? be subjected to sharp competitions in order to pie vent them from combining to control The first necessity involved the Teasing or sale of land to the negro in small parcels, and the second the encouragement of white immigra? tion. Both necessities were resisted for a long time after peace was declared, and chiefly from ptta I judice. But recently We ?bte ? very decided change in that respect The Southern press generally invites emigration from the North, as well as from Europe.. Agents have been sent from most of the States to organize European migration, and quite a large number of com munities have already arrived. A Convention is to be held at Charleston the 6d of May to aid the movement of South Carolina; several large colonies of Germans have recently set? tled in Alabama, and a colony of New Yorkers are also on their way there. Fifty-three thou? sand emigrants, black and white, have passed through Memphis within the last five months, destined for the Southwest, of whom fifteen thousand were newly-arrived foreigners. North Carolina, Virginia and Kentucky have each organized bureaus of immigration, which ate actively at work, and similar efforts are being made?and with great succcsss?to turn the tide toward Alabama and Mississippi. All this is but the beginning of the end. It is destined to go on increasing until the South shall be filled up with a new element of popu? lation, which will introduce new ideas, bring its vast extent of unoccupied lands Under tut* age, and ultimately bmld up a homogenous civilization upon the ruins of that false and pernicious system which has hitherto been an incubus upon the South, socially, politically and materially. The result will be that the sectional animosity which has so long prevail? ed will be gradually obliterated, and that when the present generation shall have passed away, it will have disappeared altogether.*-Hew York Tines, \ Irani the Chester Reporter, Hon Jas. L. Orr. The Southern Guardian in a recent editorial forcibly presents the claims of this distinguish'3 cd gentleman to the confidence and support of the entire people of the State; We endorse every word of it Our confidence in the politic cal honesty and integrity of Go v. Orr has never wavered. We differed with him in 1868, but we believed then that he was honest and patri? otic in the views he held and theC?ursc he pur* sued; With the light of experience reflected back upon those (lark days we see now that statesmanship and wisdom dictated his course. It is true, his judgment has been sometimes at fault. For it was to his influence, more per? haps than to any other one man's, that the scornful rejection of the 14th amendment by the Legislature was due. And from this rejection spfa?g all our recon? struction woes, and the miserablen ess of out* present condition. But still, to err is human r and despite this great blunder of his, we regard him as our safest counsellor in these trying times, and as the ablest hands to which we can entrust the Executive Office of the State. The following is a part of the Gwtrdian'i editorial i "Through all this past of trial and fire, the one man, whose eye has been clear, and whose .judgment has taken facts and not feelings for its data, whose prophecies of each year have been verified by the events of the next, and whose counsels have invariably been approved but only in retrospection?that one man has again appeared; and to-day finds, for the first time, a State ready to hear him. "In an hour like this, when the State Heeds her best powers, and all of them, she can ill afford to spare the man who has given the clearest proof of his peculiar ability to read these tangled times, and of his special fitness to avert yet greater calamity from her. She it in the unclean clutches of a corrupt oligarchy of adventurers hostile to her true interests; and to save the State from these spoilers is the par? amount interest of all. And all her best citi? zens, the black no less than the white, 'eel this to be the true condition of things with us. Governor Orr distinctly announces thiu, as we showed yesterdav; and, under the guidance of such a man?and there is no other such than he himself?the emancipation of South Carolina from its Winchester rifle regime next October is a glorious certainty." ? An association of New England, capital? ists, who are thinking of investing largely in Southern enterprises, fcave recently put thjem^ selves to a good deal of expense to find out the prices of votes in all the Legislatures of that South. The result shows that the average pricsr is. eleven dollars thirty-seven and a hali eents per dozen, with a liberal discount to wholesale dealers.