Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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RATES OF SVBSCRIPTIOX.-Tno Dollars per annum, aod 0>e Dollar for six months. Subscriptions ace not taken for ft less period than six* months. Liberal deductions made to clubs of ten or more subscribers. RATES OF ADVERTISING.?On* Dollar per square ot one inch for the first insertion, and Fifty Cents per square for subsequent insertions less than three months. No advertisement counted less than a square. Liberal contracts will be made with those wishing to advertise for three, six or twelve months. Ad? vertising hy contract must bo confined to the iin mediato business of the firm or individual contrac? ting. Obituary Notices exceeding five lines, Tributes ?of Respect, and all personal communications or matters of individual interest, will be charged for at advertising rates. Announcements of marriages and deaths, and notices of a religious character, are respectfully solicited, "find will be inserted gratis. BY HOYT & CO. ANDERSON, S. C, THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 11, 1875._VOL. XI-NO. 17. LEGAL ADVERTISING.-We are compelled to require cash payments for advertising ordered by Executors, Administrators and other fiduciaries, and herewith append the rates for the ordinary notices, which will only be. inserted when the money comes with the order: Citations, two Insertions, - - - $3.00 Kstatc Notices, three insertions, - - 2.00 Final Settlements, five insertions - - 3.00 TO CORRESPONDENTS.?In order to receive attention,''communications must be accompanied by the true name and address of the writer. Re? jected manuscripts will not be returned, nnless the necessary stamps are furnished to repay the postage thereon. JOS" We are not responsible for the views and opinions of our cornspondents. All communications should be addressed to "Ed itors Intelligencer." and all checks, drafts, money orders, Ac, should Ijc made parable to the order of HOYT&CC Anderson, S. C. LET IT PASS. Be not swift to take offence; Let it pass! Anger is a foe to sense; Let it pass! Brood not darkly o'er a wrong "Which, will disappear ere' long; Rather sing this cheery song, Let it pass! Strife corrodes trie purest mind; Let it pass! As the unregarded wind, Let it pass! Any vulgar souls that live : May condemn without reprieve, 'Tis the noble who forgive. Let it pass! Echo not an angry word: Let it pass! Think how oftea you have erred; , . Let it pass! Since our joys must pass away, Like the dewdrops on the way, . Wherefore should our sorrow stay? Let it pass! If for good vou've taken ill, Let it pass! O, be kind and gentle sdll; Let it pass! Time at last makes all things straight, Let us not resent, but wait, And our triumph shall be great. Let it pass! Bid vouraager to. depart; C i Let it pass! Lay these homely words to heart, . Let it pass! Follow not the giddy throng; Better to be wronged than wrong; Therefore sing this cheery song, Let it pass! A SKETCH. The sky is blue and bright above, The trees have donned their soft green dresses, . And prattling out its lazy love, The river takes the sun's caresses. The air with sweet Spring scents its rife, And pleasant with the talk of thrushes. And glad with a new scene of life The year toward its noon-day rashes. Within a corner of the wood Where the sun's light comes something fainter, And dclled the voices of the Hood, There sit a lady and a painter. Intent the scene's delight to trace, He deftly plies his practiced ringers, With eyes that grow toward her face, Aiidlaaost on her his labor lingers. And while he works the day glides by, Until with pink the hillside flushes. And with a half-regretful sigh, Thus speaking, he flings down his brushes; "The light that travels down the stream, Or piercing through an opening slender, Falls through the leaves with-fitful gleam? This light my skill can catch and render. But, sweet, your eyes give out a light That, though I strive from mom till even, I never can reflect aright^ I paint the earth, and not high Heaven." TRAP TO CATOH A HUSBAND. Sunset in the tropics. Sunset on the outskirts of a Louisiana forest?stately, solemn. What a chaos of noble color, what an Eden of blossom and of odor, what royal prodigality of untrammelea life. The spot where a party of tourists, had encamped themselves for the night; was at the height ol some three or four hundred feet above the level of the sea; and a glowing sweep of lowland country ?yellow maize fields, orchards, villages and gardens?stretched away league be? yond league before them. The party which made up this (encamp? ment consisted of four men?Northerners on a tour of pleasure and observation. Three were gentlemen of wealth; but the fourth?Jerrold Gray?was a depen? dent nephew of 00 3 of the rich trio. His uncle had educated him, and now, at the end of his collegiate course, had taken him on this tour. At its conclusion Jer rold was to choose a profession, and com? mence single-handed the battle of life. His ancle had a number of children, so that Jerrold could not reasonably expect to inherit anything, and his indepen? dence prompted him to decline further pecuniary ?ad.r g V.' . ? Leaving his companions cooking the supper, in true camp fashion, Jerrold strolled off to view the panorama that was stretched beneath the surrounding hill. As he stood listlessly leaning against a tree, he broke out into a chance song. He . was really a fine singer, pos? sessed of a highly cultivated voice, and sang with all the abandon of presumed solitude. He did not see the bright, black eyes that were watching him, nor the dainty ears that werp listening, both of which belonged to one of the wealthiest and; prettiest heiresses in Louisiana. She sat on a splendid horse, and made a picture that, had' Jerrbld seen it, would have eclipsed the opposite landscape upon which he was gazing. She waited there, fascinated, and trusting to the shelter of the trees until he turned and retraced his ; steps. But suddenly, in the very height of his song, his glance fell on her, leaning gracefully forward upon the saddle, and regarding him with a face of mingled wonder and admiration that was so in? tense as to be comical, the tall bushes and branches half veiling her. Never could be forget the -picture. His voice abruptly ceased; and the next instant he burst into a 'ringing langh, that was so joyous, hearty and irrepressible that it proved inflections, a,nd.-catching .by in? stinct the :hmfk>r oT the -moment, she laughed very heartily,,. Then, as if frightened by such familiarity with a stranger, she suddenly became serious. ' i "I oeg your pardon, sir, for listening," ? she said, "but it is so seldom we meet a human being up here on the hills, that you tempted me to listen." Never had Jcrrold looked upon a ?countenance that so fascinated him.? The girl's dark hair, and a face on which there always lived'? bloom, but to which there never mounted a decided color, appeared the A ery embodiment of health and vitality. But it was the wonderful mobility of the features that constituted their greatest charm; their expressions were as shifting and various as the at? mosphere upon an April morning.? Everj- mood and passion they reflected changed them into another face; now they were those of a laughing Hebe, now those of a simple child. Before Jerrold could reply to the young lnciy, a gentleman on horseback rode up. "So, Bertha," he said to her, "you ran away from me." And then seeing Jer? rold Gray, he bowedpolitelv, and added, "It isn't often these wild hifls are visited by strangers." A brief conyersatiorr ensued, ending in a trisnt totne temporary camp. The gentleman introduced himself as Mr. FenshaWj a planter of the neighborhood, and the girl as Bertha Fcnshaw, his niece. "Do you intend to remain here to? night?" he asked, as he prepared to go. "Yes," was the reply; "we are very lazily seeking pleasure, and we encamp wherever fancy dictates." Then I shall insist upon receiving you at my home. You see it yonder," he said pointing to a plantation residence dimly visible in the distant plain; "and until" then, good day." Bertha added her invitation, and uncle and niece were soon riding out of sight. Knowing by experience the hospitality of Louisiana planters of the higher class, and certain that the invitation was inten? ded for actual acceptance, the tourists decided upon the morrow. On that same morrow, towards after? noon, Bertha Fenshaw sat in her room, thinking of Jerrold Gray. She had dreamed of him during the night, and she was wondering why. It was not be? cause of a dearth of young men among the circle of her acquaintances. Ana all the region knew the pretty heiress. She was. acquainted with ail the old men and women^in the country, and their numerous complaints. She was god? mother to half the babies. The young planiere of all the adjoining counties were in love with her, and proposed to her at regular intervals. But Bertha was romantic. She was very happy as she was, and if she did many, he must he more of a hero, to win her, than any she had spen. Had Jerrold Gray seen the pretty heir? ess, and known that he was the subject of her thoughts, he might have been more flattered, but scarcely mere in love than he really was. Her room was ar? ranged with all the simple taste of a well-bred girl. Her hanging book? shelves were well-filled with their row of poets, their row of useful works. The neat little writing table, with its gilt inkstand, and its pretty, costly nick nacks, stood in the window; and above it hung the cage of her pet canary. There was a piano, too, and a well-filled music stand. Upon all the room was the impress and evidenco of womanly taste and neat? ness ; nothing was prim, but everything was properly arranged. Above all, neither in books, pictures, music, nor on the dressing-table in the adjoining room, was there the smallest sign of "fastness," that almost omnipotent drawback to the charms of the young ladies of the preS pnr. rlntr But none of these things interested our heroine just now, and in the middle of her reverie she heard the arrival of the -tourists, and the voice of her uncle welcoming them. Hastily finishing her toilet, she went down to the sitting-room, where she found the gentlemen in con? versation. Perhaps it was natural enough that the two younger members of the quintet gravitated towards each other, and were soon in an easv converse. Later, Bertha showed him the gardens, etc. The call proved so pleasant, and all were so pleased with the congenial intercourse, that the tourists complied with the planter's urgent invitation to spend a week at his house. The week was spent agreeably to all? it was a week of elvsium to Jerrold and Bertha. "Jerrold," said George Murton, one of the party, "you are getting desperately in love with this Southern beauty." "Yes," was the frank reply; "I love her as I had never dreamed I could love a woman." "And does she return your sudden passion ?" "Yes, I am certain of that." "Then you have spoken to her about it ?" "No, and shall not do so. She is rich ?I am poor. I will never marry under such conditions." The week ended, and the guests were about to bid adieu to their generous host. Bertha showed no special signs of emo? tion, but as Jerrold was about leaving her she said to him, "Sing me something that will recall you to me." He! went' to the piano, and without thought, the strains of Prol:. Schubert's "Adieu" came into his mind. The pas? sion of a life-time was concentrated in its melody, and Bertha, hiding her eyes in her hand, listened, understanding his love and farewell. They went, and time passed. The civil war broke out. Mr. Fenshaw, be? ing a, Federalist, was malignantly perse-, cuted. His property, or such of it as was not invested, in the North, was con? fiscated. Three years after his first visit, Jerrold Gray was in New Orleans, a lieutenant in the Federal army. George Merton, too, was in the same regiment. When the army advanced to the neighborhood of the Fenshaw plantation, Merton pro Joscd a visit to their former hosts; but errold, for reasons, declined, and Merton decided to go alone. He found the plan? tation in a sad state, hut its master as hospitable as ever. "This house is like a tomb," said Mr. Fenshaw; "no more music, no more sounds of joy. The piano has not been touched for two years; the last thing played on it was the 'Adieu' of that young friend of yours. By-the-way, is he living? Have you heard of him ?" "Yes. Have you never had any sus? picions about him ?" "SuspicfchsT?-' ^ "Yes; concerning your neice." "Concerning Bertha?let me see. A light dawns in on me, do you know. Have I been deceived ? We fear she is losing her health and spirits." "3he is in love with Jerrold Gray." Then Merton told him all that had passed; all his scruples; all his love; his resolve never to marry a woman so, far Above him in fortune. "Come," said iPeushaw, "and repeat this to Bertha," , The, three were in a close consultation for a'n hour; and when Merton set out on his, return,, something of the old vivacity had returned to Bertha. "Well," said Jerrold, when his friend returned,, "have you seen them V\ g ' Yes." "And is Bertha well ?" Merton looked grave. "Yes," he Baid, "as well as could be. expected under the circumstances. The fortunes of the war have dealt hardly with her. She has, lost every penny of her fortune." Jerrol d Gray's eyes sparkled. "You do not seem saddened by the ill luok of the girl.you said you loved," said Merton. "No," replied the young man; 'Tr? eatise now she is on a level with me, and I can offer her my hand without loss of self-respect." Obtaining leave of absence, Lieutenant Gray started .for the Fenshaws on the following day. The uncle received him gn.ciously?the neice with a joy that found expression in her lustrous eyes, in the warm clasp of her hand, and in the very eloquence of her silence. Before his departure he had told her his love, and her trembling lips had clung to his in a betrothal kiss. They are married now, and happy, in spite of a piece of anti-marriage deceit on the part of the bride. "Could you forgive me a great, a very great deception, provided it was intended to make us both nappy for life ?" asked Bertha, soon after the quiet wedding. "Y{*? "Then listen to my confession. Mr. Merton deceived you when he told you that my fortune hid been lost. He told me of your resolution never to marry a woman richer than yourself, and sugges? ted the plan of inducing you to propose by representing me as penniless. I loved you so well that I couldn't refuse; and do forgive me, Jerrold." A kiss settled it, and Jerrold laughing lv acknowledged himself caught in "A Trap to Catch a Husband." The Influence of Habits. There are few who fully realize how greatly the moral character of men and women is; dependent upon the habits formed in very early life. Much of the vice and crime, much of the dishonesty and fraud, much of the sensuality and impurity that degrade mankind, might have been averted had the unhappy vic? tims been differently trained and employ? ed in childhood. There are certain con? ditions which, if continuously observed in the lift! of the young will almost infallibly prevent them from falling into habits of gross vice and licentiousness. On the other l and, there are child-lives whose natural flowering out seems inevitablc^to be impurity, self-indulgence and excess. It becomes, then, a matter of vast impor? tance to all who have the guidance of youth to investigate this matter and dis? cover the nature of the conditions that are fraught with such momentous re? sults. One of the best safeguards against a vicious life is a happy childhood. He who always looks back to this period with pleasart memories, who recalls a father's ready sympathy, a mother's loving care, and a home brim full of innocent joy and mirth, has but few temptations to guilty pleasures. Those persons make a fatal mistake who transform their home into a Erison, who burden their children with arsh rules and needless restraints, who deprive them of the natural amusements of youth, who treat their childish long? ings and cravings with indifference and* neglect. The natural atmosphere of a child is that of joy, and if his home be destitute of it, he will certainly seek it in other find more questionable channels. Youths who have been brought up in the strictest; manner, by the sternest authori? ty, when at length the pressure of con? trol is removed, often launch into the wildest self indulgence from mere reac | ?on, and always when youth is I cheated out of its natural pleasures it will grasp at any available means of While, however, childhood should ever be made happy, it should be guarded against seeking pleasures as an aim. This is mos; easily accomplished by giving continual ana varied employment to the faculties. Industry is n ot merely a means of advancement in the world, but a direct agent in mental and bodily development, and an importantsafeguard against temp? tation. Nothing more surely leads to evil [ courses, than a habit of indolence. It pro? duces ennui, discontent, restlessness and a craving for excitement, that sends many a willing victim right into the arms of dissipation and sensual pleasures. It is a high art, that but few of us have yet learned, that of providing suitable means for the activities of childhood. Parents should see to it that their children are busily and cheerfully active, for nothing more surely tends to immorality than a habit of languid, listless inactivity. Temperance, in the broad sense of the word, is another invaluable safeguard againsi; vice. Let the child be early taught moderation in every pleasure, and he will be far less likely to launch into excess in later life. Without this there can be neither health of body nor free? dom of mind. The child who is suffered habitually to carry his enjoyments to ex? cess naturally continues the" same course as he grows older, and the habit strength? ens by exercise. Every pleasure should be allowed which a healthy organism needs for its refreshment and preserva? tion, but the limitations should be care? fully taught, and the child accustomed to control himself in unison with the laws of health and growth. He who thor? oughly acquires the habit of temper? ance in youth, and learn j its value, will be in little danger of yielding to gluttony, drunkenness or dissipation, when parental control is removed. Such habits cannotbe established with? out earnest effort, and patient, persever? ing energy on the part of parents. They must realize the necessity of assiduous care, and the far reaching e:fect of their influence. They 'muut appreciate the great t rath, that whether their children are te grow up into pure, noble, and vir? tuous ;ner; ana women, or corrupt, vicious and depraved beings, depends largely upon their own- preseni; conduct. There is a looseness of thought on this subject that is most prejudicial to the public mor? als. The merchant devotes s.U his powers to the complicated arrangements of his, business; the fanner gives his best thought and care to the cultivation of his crops; neither of them expect to reap where they have not sowed.? Surely the culture of the young, tender and impressible human being-deserves at least as much pains and effort. Lot a new view of parental responsibility be taken, let the home be made the source of pure and unmixed happiness, let children be seduously trained in habits of industry, temperance and self-con? trol, and the vice, sensuality and crime of later life will have received their death blow. The Drift of Industry ami Capital. Under this head the Baltimore Sun, referring to the drift of population and money to the South, says that in no other section can crops hi; cultivated with low labor, nor are any crops more remunerative than such.as are peculiarly adapted to this and the more southern region. The great change which has been effected by the abolition of slavery presents the- opportunity for infusing new elements into Southern lifo and new ideas of industrial enterprise. The landed interest is now relieved of the necessity of supporting at its own cost these whose labor it does not utilize, the supply of whose wants has now to be borne by the class with which it is iden? tified. No matter what tbe means by which emancipation was accomplished this is- the effect, and the freedman may stay or migrate as inclination or circum? stances may suggest. But in any case he is not now in the way of coming white immigrants, and will have to stir himself to compete with them when they do come, and thus add to the profitableness of bis labor to himself and the communi? ty at targe. He also becomes to a larger extent a consumer of general commodi? ties, miking manufactures :3iore necessa? ry in the country of hissojeurn than ever before. A section which lias lost none of its resources of revenue, and which has in? creased largely the number of its profita? ble consumers, cannot be said to be in? jured in the long run by emancipation. When society and business in the South have recovered from the temporary pa? ralysis caused by the war, revolution and succeeding bad government, the value of the Southern lands will be so very large? ly restored as to make them most desira? ble. But, recurring to the general idea with which we started, of the evident in? creasing tendency of the public mind to turn to industries that may be slow hut sure, and especially agriculture, after so long a season of undue trading and speculation, we can but say that it is one of the most healthful and encouraging signs of the times that has been noted since the era of war, and excessive paper money issues came upon the country with their demoralizing and ruinous re? sults. The Term of Office of Cirenil; Judges. The editorials which have appeared in the News and Courier on the term of office of Circuit Judges have attracted a good deal of attention. The News and Courier maintains that under Section 13, Article IV, of the Con? stitution, circuit Judges must hold office for the terra of four years, no matter whether they be elected for a full terra or an unexpired term; for instance if a cir? cuit Judge had been elected under Sec? tion 13, for a full term of four years, and dies or resigns at the expiration of three years, his successor must be elected for four vears, and not for the one year un? filled*. We differ with the New? on this sub? ject. A carelul examination of the Con? stitution will show that it provides for two kinds of election to the office of cir? cuit Judge. The first kind is the ordina ry election and is to anticipate and pre? vent vacancies; for the law abhors a va? cancy in its offices as nature abhors a vacuum. This provision to prevent va? cancies in the office of Circuit Judge is found in Section 13, Article IV, of the Constitution of the State, and reads as follows: "The State shall be divided into convenient circuits, and for each circuit a Judge, shall be elected by joint ballot of the General Assembly, who shall hold office for the term of four years." * * The second kind Oi election, which is termed an extra or extraordin?r: elec? tion, is to fill vacancies in the office of circuit Judge that arise by death, resig? nation or suspension from office, and which could not be prevented by the Constitution or law, is provided for in Section 11 Art. IV, of the Constitution, and reads a? follows : All vacancies in the Supreme Court or other inferior tribunal (i. e. Circuit Courts) shall be filled by election as herein prescribed (i. e. by the General Assembly;) Provided, that if the unexpired term does not exceed one year such vacancy may be filled by Executive appointment." Now if these two sections mean exact? ly the same thing, that circuit Judges shall hold office for four years from their election, then, one of them is a dead let? ter in the Constitution. But we cannot presume tiis. Both sections must be made to stand if possible. We can then reasonably suppose that section 11 pre? scribes sonie shorter or longer - time for which circuit Judges are to hold office who are elected under its provisions. According to our construction that the Constitution recognizes no vacancies ex? cept those arising from death, resignation or suspension, and that section 11 applies to such vacancies, we must conclude that the word vacancies therein refers to the term; and to get at the exact meaning of this word we may legitimately reverse the section or alter the collocation of its words, provided the meaning is not changed but made clearer. Section ill reversed, putting the pro? viso first, and without changing the meaning, may be made to read thus: That if the unexpired term of a Supreme Court or circuit Judge does not exceed one year, it shall be filled by executive appointment; provided, that if such un? expired tenn does exceed one year, it shall be filled by election herein pre? scribed (i. e. by the General Assembly-) What shall be filled by election by the General Assembly? The one, two, or three year?, as the case may be, of the unexpired term. If however, Section. 11 be considered ambiguous, the argument of convenience would turn +hc scale, for if it mean that vacancies shall be filled for four years, we can conceive that all our eight Circuits could be without Judges for six months, or until a special tcrrrTof the Legislature could convene, or that the Legislature would have to as? semble at eight different times in the year to elect circuit Judges. The great mistake made by the Newt and others, is that they do not take the distinction between vacant term and va? cant office. The creation of a new judicial circuit creates a new office. The office of Judge is vacant until he be elected, but the term is not; vacant, for the term docs not be until he is elected. This is an in? stance of a vacant office and not a vacant term. Again, if the Legislature should fail to elect a successor to a judge who has filled his terms, there would be another instance of a vacant office but <iot a vacant term. We only make these illustrations to show, the word that vacan? cies may be applied to the term in con? tradistinction to the office. There arc other argumeuts in favor of the views we have announced which our space will not permit us to give at this time; but we should' like to have the matter discussed by others, as it is one of great importance.?Edgcficld Advertiser. A HeartlessSavixdle.?A few weeks ago an advertisement in a Boston paper for a clerk who wanted a good situation and could deposit $500 as surety for his honesty, integrity, etc., or words to that effect, caught the eye of a young man in this city, ?.nd there being something very attractive cither about depositing, the money or the promised situation, he went to Boston with the requisite amount of money in his pocket. He Visited the office of "Henry Ho ward r& Co.," the ad? vertisers, and mado. known his business. After som j conversation and-a recital*of what his cluties were.to be (which, by the way, were to be extremely light,) he an? nounced his intention of accepting the situation and making the deposit. Just here there was a 3light hitch, the gen? tlemanly proprietor informing him that there was a possibility that his partner, who he said was in this city, might have secured a young man, and he would, be? fore taking the money, telegraph to him, to mrdec sure about it. Such candor and fairness o;' course had its effect upon the young man, and he was all the more anx? ious for a position with so upright a man. A dispatch was sent to the partner, direct? ed to the City Hotel here, and in due time an answer, or what purported to be an answer, was received, saying the place was not filled. The bargain was then closed and the young man deposited the money. The pro prictor took it in a care? less manner apparently put it into the money drawer, ar..d locking the drawer ho gave the key to his new clerk, telling him he was going out for a short time on business and he might begin his work at once. The clerk waited lor his retnrn for a long time, but at first thought noth? ing of it; for wasn't the money safe in the drawer, and wasn't the drawer locked, and didn't he have the key? Finally, however,"his suspicions; or his curiosity got the best uf him, and he examined the drawer. Imagine his surprise and con? sternation at finding therein but a pack? age of worthless paper, and the trick flashed upon his mind, ^.n effort was made to find his partner in this city, but the dispatch spoken of above hasn't reached him yet, and probably never will.?Providence Journal. ? Postmaster Jones, of Raibon Centre, Ontario, wrote to the postmaster-general: ".Seeing by the regulations that I am re? quired to send you a letter of advice, I must plead in excuse that I have been postmaster but a short time; but this I will say, if your office pays no better than mine 1 advise you to give it up." The Colored Tote of the Fntnrc. We have been accustomed to look upon the Radical majority in this State as stereotyped and invincible, because it rested upon the solid and impenetrable mass of colored voters. These voters have been treated as if they were suscep? tible to no light, and indifferent to every thing but the nomination of the party, even though it brought disaster ana ruiu upon themselves and country alike. We have long beeu convinced that this was a fatal mistake. The colored voters enter? ed upon citizenship with a bias towards the Radical, side, for we can't call it Re? publican in this State, which gave agreat lever to those who came to use and ma? nipulate them for their own purposes.? They lent themselves without knowledge and without question to the entrench? ment in all the strongholds of power of men who came to rule in order that they might plunder and despoil.. But the col? ored people are no fools. They are not incapable of learning. Their powers of observation are uncommonly acute in all things which concern their material in? terests. They have long ago come to the [ conclusion that they hare been badly cheated by their pretended friends.? They have, many of them, come to them? selves, and find that they have been used as the mud sills in the structure of a cor? rupt and rotten government. This very day, as certain as the sun shines above us, if the colored people of South Caroli? na could give expression to their real opinions and feelings, they would be found to be in condemnation of the prac? tices and abuses of the party and politi? cians whom they have helped to establish'' over us. They understand well the char? acters of these men, and would avail themselves of any good opportunity to get rid of them. But the opportunity must come up naturally in the course of things. It must be the issue of honest and respectable government, economical administration, good understanding be? tween the races on the basis of acknowl? edgment of the rights of each by the other, and the expulsion of bad men from position of trust and honor.. Uuusual as the expression of . these views maybe, they are nevertheless justly entertained by many. The denial of them would be the denial of any possibil? ity of improvement in the colored race, ?any growth in knowledge and moral dis? cernment, any progress of their own ac? cord towards better things. And it would be to draw a pall over the State and con? sign it hopelessly to disgrace and ruin.? We will not believe it. The means by which the freedmen have been inveigled into the support of measures of most in? jurious tendency and effect to themselves, as well as to the while people, cannot be used much longer. They feel their dire? ful consequences in the devastation' to which the State has been subject in the orgies and long carnival of the meu who precured them and assume to represent them. They may not be able to anal? yze the tree, but they can judge of its fruits. In Arkansas, the colored people voted to recover the State. In Mississip? pi, they are to-day rallying to the stan? dard of reform. A correspondent writes: "I am convinced that more negroes will vote with the whites than ever before.? There are several counties where from 200 to 400 are enrolled in Democratic clubs. At the large Democratic demon? stration at Holly Springs, Thursday, there were over 500 colored men in tho proces? sion." When artificial restraints and in? jurious influences are broken down, when tho power of corruption itself as the means of their political subjection has run its course, colored' people will learn that there is still another phase of free? dom, another enjoyment of liberty, to which they may aspire. It will be the privilege of supporting a good and eco? nomical government and honest men in it, without reference particularly to party professions and party catch-words;?Co? lumbia Register. A Northern Tribute to Stonewall Jack? son. The unveiling of Folcy's statue of Stonewall Jackson in Richmond, brought together a larger and more truly repre? sentative body of the Southern people than has gathered at any time since the Confederate armies laid down their arms ten years ago ; and the fact that such a gathering is in honor of a great Confed? erate leader awakens no jealousy, reani? mates no prejudice, and provokes no un? kind comment in Northern States, while the ceremonies of the occasion, embra? cing as they did a good deal of speech making, were throughout unmarred by ill feeling or hostile words, proves be? yond a doubt that the wounds of war have healed and that on both sides of the late line of division peace in its fullest and best sense is at last restored. That Southern people, and more especially the Virginians, should feel pride in the fame of Stonewall Jackson, and should rejoice in the tribute paid his memory by the men of another land whose gift the stat? ue was, is altogether natural and proper; that neither they nor the Northern peo? ple have made the celebration .'in Rich? mond an occasion for the indulgence of unkind feeling is greatly to the credit of the common sense of "both. We have got so far away from the war now that the men who fought it on either side un? derstand and recognize the sincerity with which each contended for what each be? lieved to be the right, and so the time has come when in commemorating the cour? age, the devotion, the virtues of a great leader of one army or the other, we non or a name which is the common heritage of all,Americans. The cause in which/ Stonewall Jackson fought and fell, died long ago, but his fame lives without ref? erence to it. His courage, his devotion to what he believed was his duty, his skill as a soldier and his virtues as "a man existed before secession was conceived, and these are what the Virginians com? memorated yesterday. The qualities which made Jackson great belong to him as a man, and were wholly independent of the cause, to whose service, from a sense of duty, he devoted them. Jack sou was an American before he became a Confederate, and we may rightly regard him as belonging to his country rather than to his State. These'are centennial years, and their suggestions all point toward national feeling and brotherly regard among the States. The citizens of Boston cannot walk upon Dorchester Heights without remembering that it was a Virginian planter who, placing his batteries there, drove the British out of New England's chief city. The names of Eutaw, Cam den, Charleston, Ninety-six, and a score of other towns remind the Carolinians of gallant Benjamin Lincoln, whom Massa? chusetts sent to the South's assjs tance, and patient, tireless, heroic Na? thaniel Greene, Rhode Island's gift to Carolina in the days of her sorest need. May we not, iu like manner, forgetting our family quarrel, cherish for the whole country the fame of its great leaders on both sides?? Jackson and Lee, as well as Thomas and Farragut, were Americans!, and whatever measure of fame history shall accord to cither, will be and should be the cherished possession not of a part but all of the nation.?New York Even in;/ Post. Executive Proclamation. Columbia, S. C, October 25,1875. To the People of South Carolina:^ On the 4th day of July next the first century of our national life will be com? pleted, and the event will be marked by a Centennial celebration and exhibition in the City of Philadelphia. It is now clear that the occasion will be observed in a manner commensurate with its sig? nificance to this nation and to the world. If, among the many communities com Erising our nation, thero ;are any which aye stronger reasons than others for pa? triotic interest in that occasion, they are the original "Thirteen" States which join? ed in the Declaration of Independence. South Carolina was not behind the fore? most in the great-events of 1776. Her right and duty to join in our nation's Centennial celebration cannot be dis I puted. Up to the present time almost nothing has been done in this State towards dis? charging the duties, which this event im? poses. The causes of this delay need not be. discussed. No causes are sufficient longer to excuse South Carolina from this, duty. The Central Centennial Commis-j sion at Philadelphia have invited the several States to appoint such boards of cemmittees as they may judge necessary for the promotion of the object of the Centennial celebration, in their respect? ive States. ? In compliance with this in? vitation I have this day appointed the following citizens of this State as a State Board ol Centennial Commissioners, to have in charge the perfecting of such ar? rangements as they may adopt for pro? moting and securing the proper represen? tation of South Carolina, her resources, history and industries, at the Centennial celebration oh July 4, 1876: Col. W. L. Trenholm, of Charleston; Capt. Jacob Smalls, of Charleston; Hon. John R. Cochran, of Anderson; Col. D. Wyatt Aiken, of Abbeville; Col. Thos. Taylor, of Columbia; Hon. Reuben Tora lioson, of Charleston; Col.C. W. Dudley, of Bennettsville; Prof. F. S. Holmes, of Charleston; Hon. D. R. Duncan, of Spartanburg. t ? Thjs board will have full power to make such organization of the State as they may deem most effective. I respect? fully suggest that a meeting of the board be held at the earliest practicable day. with a view to arrange for such local CDunty and city organizations as may be advisable; and to this end I have re? quested Prof. F. S. Holmes, of Charles? ton, to communicate with the other mem? bers of the commission, and to fix a time and place for such meeting. Time presses, and the field should at once be surveyed and fhe plans perfected, in or? der that the General Assembly may be nicmoralized for such aid as may be need? ed. I most earnestly invoke the cordial co? operation of all the people of the State in the great work of securing for South Carolina an honorable representation on the occasion .which will commemorate the completion of the first century of our rational life. D. II. Chamberlain, t Governor, Thanksgiving Proclamation. "Washington, Oct. 27,1875. In accordance with a practice at once wise and beautiful we have been accus? tomed, as the year is drawing to a close, 1o devote an occasion to the humble ex? pression of our thanks to Almighty God for the ceaseless and distinguished bene? fits bestowed upon us a3 a nation, and for His -mercies and protection during the closing year. Amid the rich and free enjoyment of all our advantages we should not forget the source from whence they are derived and the extent of our obliga? tions to the Father of all mercies. We liave full reason to renew our, thanks to Almighty God for favors bestowed upon us during the past year. By Hi3 continuing mercy civil and. re? ligious liberty have been maintained, peace has reigned within our borders, la? bor and enterprise have produced their merited rewards, and to His watchful Providence we are indebted for security from pestilence and other national calam? ity. Apart from the national blessings each individual among us hast occasion to . thoughtfully recall and devoutly recog? nize the favors and protection which he has enjoyed. Now, therefore, I, Ulysses S. Grant,' President of the United States, do recommend that, on Thursday, the 25th day of November, the people of the United States, abstaining from all secular pursuits and from their accustomed avocation, do - assemble in their respective places of worship, and, in such form as may seem most appropriate in their own hearts, offer to Almighty God their acknowledgments and thanks for all His mercies, and their humble prayers for a continuance of His Divine favors;. In witness whereof, I have hereunto set my hand and caused the seal of the United States to be affixed. Done;at the.city of Washington, this 57th day of October, in the year of our ?ord 1875, ? and of th* independence of ? the'United Statesitbe one hundredth. ..{'?:/ . r-.' : 4. ;; U. .GRANT. ' I ? ? ' ' ' '_!__ \ Facts: hor: Farmers.?It is difficult to as t {- it a i ? t he amp u'n t of fcropsj or the averiige' yield, of very .dwf^t .tin^es past, but the average yield per. 'acre, of wheat 'in .the eleventh century was estjmatedby the highest anthority of that day, the authorcf "Fleta," at only six-"bushels. So three hundred years! later, in. 13,90. fifty-riieyen acres oh a. &rih a? Hatred yield only three hundred and jSix'ty-six bushels, and on au average of three years, little more thau that, fhe -aotual ? pro? ductive power of1 Great Britain; in' the article of wheat) alone increased during the half century' from '.1801 -to 1851 to the extent'.'of;supporting 'an ' jiclditipnal population . 6% 7,0??jQQO, an mcieaso which can be ascribed- with, confidence mainly to improved cultivation. So'in every country where agriculture i receives the attention it deserves the productive power of the soil has. largely increased. Even the Atlantic States of the Union' where the system of cultivating .the soil without maintaining its fertility, by a proper ;treatmcnt.. prevailed ?', for. ,'iuany years, arc not an exception, since the condition of'agriculture' is. rapidly im-i proving in the oldest of themj -where , this system was earliest bcgii'ui and' the general average, 'of'crops, with "ratecx . ceptiou of .the potato, is increasing, from, year to.year as a more proper, culture is introduced and persevered in, the farmer being led to improve his practice by the pressure of an increasing poptdation and constantly rising prices. In-New Eng? land, for instance, the general average yield of Indian corn, per acre has risen to about;35 bushels, .while crops of 50. and 60 bushels per acre are not uncommon, and 80 and 100 are sometimes obtained by careful tillage. ? A woman cured her husband of staying out late at night by going to the door when he came home and whisper? ing through the keyhole, "Is that you, Willie?" Her husband' s name is John, and he stays at home every night now, and sleeps with one eye open ftnd a re? volver under his pillow. '?? v The Tax Union. The Abbeville Medium asks what has becomo of the Tax Unions. The editor thinks that if the organization had been more thorough and its members more in earnest, great'good would have resulted ; whereas they have sunk out of sight, and have, in a majority of cases, failed, to do anything that was promised. ' - We think these inquiries and comments timely and pertinent. The trouble with the movement was that its leaders looked only to political change to give relief in the matter of bad administration. The true mission of the Tax Unions was to attack abuses by creating a public opin? ion which would act as a check upon corrupt, careless and imbecile officials; by watching every expenditure; by ex? posing rascality and bringing offending officials to account, both before the bar of public opinion and in the courts. With a small body of citizens, deter? mined, vigilant and intelligent, in every court house town, who would devote themselves to attending the meetings of their boards of county commissioners and watching the business transacted, one-half of the extravagance and fraud which loads them with debt would be prevented; In nine cases out of ten these meetings are now held virtually in secret. In this county it is rare for any one to be present except the commis? sioners and the clerk. It is the same with meetings of the city council. It is the same with cpunty commissioners and town councils in every part of the State. The intelligent business men of a com? munity will toil and worry many hours to make the money to pay taxes, but they will not spare an hour a month to watch how the money is spent. Let no one say that such watchfulness would be time wasted. There is no ras? cality, no stupidity, no carelessness proof against publicity. It is all very well to convict and punish derelict officials, but to prevent their crimes or errors is far better. The Tax Unions of the State have gen? erally overlooked these plain duties, and have contented themselves with endeav? oring to organize votes enough to over? throw 'the dominantparty, forgetting that official negligence and crime .belongs to no party. They ate common to all. Given unrestrained, unwatched power, and sooner or later the extravagance and peculation will follow. Notwithstanding misdirected effort, and a too general apathy, the Tax Union movement was of incalculable service to the State. More than a hundred cases of official misconduct have been brought to light and punished, while it is simply impossible to tell how much loss has been prevented. And although the political influence of the Unions have been direc? ted against the Republican party, we be? lieve the result has not been permanent? ly detrimental to it. Its majority is large, and cannot be overcome unless it sets itself in active opposition to the legiti? mate nonpartisan objects of a Tax Union. If its officials are guilty and are brought to justice the party is stronger by getting rief of them. If the parry is forced to make better nominations by the activity of its foes, then'it is benefited in spite of itself. The demand of the time is for a purer and more' economical administra? tion of the laws, and we are in favor of it, no matter through what.instrumental? ity, it is brought about.?Union-Herald, Republican. The Origin and Extent of Earthquakes. Prof. Raines contributes the following very interesting letter to the Augusta .Constitutionalist, which gives a scientific explanation of the recent earthquake: Augusta, November 2, 1875. Earthquakes are disturbances of the crust of the earth, caused by some action of the interior fiery liquid, which consti? tutes the great mass of the globe. This crust constituting the hardened shell and surface, is probably not over an average of fifty miles in thickness, and does not bear a large proportion or thickness to the earth itself, than a covering of paper :Pyer a ball two feet in diameter. H>;nce, it is easy to understand that any disturbance what? ever in the melted mass below would probably cause, some wave-like move? ment, vibratory action in the rocky strata of this thin crust. The causes of such disturbances are probably of several' kinds?such as the infiltration of water through cracks, forming vast volumes of imprisoned steam, of enormous tension, which would necessarily seek to escape through some vent, producing volcanic explosions and eruptions. The gradual cooling down of the earth itself would cause disturbances by the decreased size of- the great interior mass, and the in? crease of the crust of crystalization of previously melted matter. Thus there would be produced a tendency of the crust to wrinkle up, and this would cause a gradual increasing tension on the rocky strata, which at times would give way at" the weaker places; tho noises of the cracking rocks would sound like the roll? ing of wheels over , the pavements, or like the rumbling of distant thunder, accom-. panicd with a vibration or vertical jar-, ring. Again, should the atmosphere be considerably lessened in height over an extended area, indicated by what is called a low barometer, the decreased pressure over such surface might cause an upward teudency in the liquid mass below; thus great storms are not unfrcquently acconi-' pained with earthquakes. The electrical >and magnetical forces of the earth itself, ,or in connection with those mighty ex? plosions.in the sun, which cause a power? ful' disturbance of these forces.in the earth, may perhaps be at times, ciheient j cause, for perturbations in tho forces which, hold the, crust in equilibrium. It does not follow that an earthquake felt at any particular locality-may have there originated; the focus of action may have been many hundreds of miles away, and the wave of disturbance like a tidal wave of the sea, may have traveled dter an ex? tended area.. Sounds are far better cop ducted by rocky, masses than by the air, and travel much greater distances. Vio? lent earthquakes precede or ? accompany - volcanic eruptions,, hence the latter are looked upon as safety values, giving out? let, to the imprisoned gases.- All coun? tries having active volcanoes are liable ;to repeated earthquakes/and the inhabit? ants have great dread of 'heir effects.? Whilst in Mexico! our'.army found the pcopld'much. ih?re effected by an earth? quake than ourselves: indeed our. re? spect for them increased with our stay.? Perhaps there is scarcely a house of any size iu the; city of Mexico, whose walls have not been more or less disturbed, and 'numerous cracks in . the cathedrals and .aqueducts give indications' of repeated action. . - The jarring vibratory earthquake ex? perienced last night, probably over' a large portion cf the State, I think proba? bly, was duo to the second of the causes enumerated. Geo. W. Rains, M. D. ? "It's horrible to be economical,'' said a pretty womap to Quiz, with the uf> most plaintiveness. "There's no use ol living if you can't'dress' well. What, it a woman, anyhow, without her clothes?'! And Quiz laughed a little, and choke? himself, and blushed, and didu't answer, Simpson's Overcoat. That glorious snap which preceded the glorious days of Indian summer admon? ished everybody who had an overcoat that it was time to bring it out, and everybody who had no overcoat that tt was time to Collect a sufficiency of depre? ciated currency and go in search of one. Hercules Simpson had an overcoat, or thought he had one, left over from last winter, and the calm and confident tone in which he requested his wife to produce it, on the first of those cold mornings, was quite a conttast to her look of blank dismay when she assured him that he had no overcoat "But I did have one," he protested. "You surely can't mean the overcoat ou wore all last winter," said Maria in er sweetest tones. "Why, Hercules, that was all worn out." "It was nothing of the kind. It was nearly as good as new, and had lots of wear in it." "But you had worn it one season." "And might have worn it two more." "It was quite out of style." "What do you know about style in I men's clothes ? All sorts of overcoats [ are always in style. But where is my overcoat ? That's what I want to know." ! "My dear, I supposed that you ~ere done with it. thai you would never want it again, ana it was out of style, and it was badly worn, and the moths had got into it, and some acid had been spilled on it, and it was always in the way, and I wanted you to have a new one, and I never liked to see you in a sacx coat, and-" "That will do," roared Simpson. "You have given reasons enough already for the destruction of an entire tailor shop. Where is my overcoat?" "Xf you are going to be profane and violent about such* a small matter, Mr. Simpson, I will go and see my mother, and you may sit here and rave as long as you please." "Maria," said Simpson, with a cool? ness and a sweetness that would have done credit to a congealed jar .of strained honey, "will you have the lrindneas to tell me what has become of my overcoat?" "I gave the old, nasty, worn-out, ugjy, out-landish,' gocd-for-nothing thing to my wash-woman," and Mrs. Simpson burst into tears. "Don't cry, dear," said Simpson, sooth? ingly. "No doubt you did just right. Your wash-woman needed an overcoat, and my office hoy needs a few paniere and over-shirts and such things, which I will carry down :o him if you will hand them over.", ; "Do you want to kill me, Hercules?" "Haven't the least desire to do so. I was just thinking how glad I would be to fo down town to buy an overcoat, if I ad the money." "But, I've got the mo-mo-money," sob? bed Maria, "and I've been saving it for that very pu-pu-p?rpose." Simpson was mollified, but his face fell when nis wife announced her intention of going out to buy the coat He thought that he was better fitted tobuy his coats than she was; but she declared that the money was hers, that she knew what looked well, that the men were always cheated, that she was determined that he should never wear a sack again,' and that she meant to have her own way for once in her life. She had her pwn way, of course, and that overcoat was sent home, and Simp? son put; it on to please her, but refused to So before the looking glass, saying that e preferred her judgment to his own. He closed his lips tightly, and gritted his teeth, and smiled a. ghastly smile, and dug his finger nails into his hands, and turned around as she asked him to, and buttoned and unbuttoned that coat ac- - cording to command, and thanked her for it again and again, and was very par? ticular to inquire where she had got it Then he started down town, but had hardly got two blocks away from the house, when he took off that coat, rolled it up into a bundle, and carried it under his arm. When he came home to- sup? per, the coat no longer encumbered him, but he wore a sack, in cut and in color exactly like his last winter's overcoat Mrs. Simpson said nothing, though she looked a whole dictionary, and the over? coat question has been quieted down in that family for another year., Simpson .vows ttfat'M w?Heavehis.'overcoat at a pawnbroker's next spring, and will glad? ly pay what may be charged for storage, as it will be guaranteed against moths, and his wife will have no chance to give it away to her wash-woman. The Champion Bhoppeb.?She swept *? into our largest (by-goods store with that easy grace that belongs as a birthright to Baltimore's fab:' daughters, stopping at the glove counter. The polite clerk rushed.forward'to wait on her, with a note of interrogation . in each eye, .she asked for kid gloves. "Yes'm, what size 'm?" A gorgeous pullback passed her, and she turned to look at it, and then ejaculated- "kid gloves 1" -"Yei'm, what size'm 2" "Wby Aliss Sue, how do. you do?.haven't.seen you for an age,." .etc., etc. . "Good-bye^" and as she turns to the patjent clerk and transfixes him" with a stony stare, again demands in ah injured tone,, "kid gloves \ "Yes 'jn, what. size 'm?" asked life .now. somewha^efccif^d clerk. '"^l ' ,why'five and tfee^jhiXr The box containing six dozenof every conceivable'stade, Is placed- before her. ? Carefully shev looks at each, one, of the seventy4wa pairs, draws some seventeen pairs out of their various packages/ bursts the bands that held them in dozens; 'and then remarks, "Why, I wanted, black gloves." The box containing,.-the.black . kids is produced, a similar process of dis- ^ arranging the stock is gone through/ arid a pair is finally selected. "Howmuchate: . they?" chirps the fair one. "Onedollar and seventy-live cents," replies he of the yardstick. " "Oh, my gracious! Tell sells them for fifty cents." Yardstick' ex? plains that the goods would cost three times that sum, etc., etc.; goods must be damaged to sell at that price. Lady ad? mits they are somewhat damaged but just as good, gets mad and flounces out of the store.?BalWmorc Gazette. ' ? .Thb Anderson Faib.?The governor reports/the fair at Anderson to have been in every, sense creditable to the agricul? tural and-mechamcal association of An? derson County. . It.was largely attended, there 'being'preseht at I least i three tliou 'sandiieopW'when, he spoke on Friday. The aisptay of .products proved that the farmers of the. county.are wtelligent, in? dustrious and successfuL With such evi? dences of a .varied and prolific produc? tion r.0- man need seek farther for a good soil. Toiiidge by1 the cheerfulness, ? or? derly behavior and; hearty health of the large crowd ja'attendance, itwas>rident that the farmers of Anderson ,'are; satis? fied that their lives have fallen in,pleas? ant places. Everything conspired to make the. occasion of the governor's "visit a pleasant one.?Vhion-Berald. ' ?'? ? An almandc says: "About this time look out for colds,". - But .St is not neces* sary. The man who cannot; catch cold without looking out for it, hasn't' enter? prise aueugh to sneeze if heehould^catch one.