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C, THURSDAY, FEBURARY 3, 1876: VOL. XI?NO. 29. LEGAL ADVERTISING.?Vit sre compelled to require cash payments for advertising ordered liy Ereentors, Administrators and other fiduciarlt r, and herewith append the ratea tor the ordlnsiy notices, which will only be inserted when the money comes with throrder: Citations, two Insertions, ???-?. ? > $3,1 *j Estate Notices, three insertions, - ? 5?.<J0 Final Settlements, fire insertions - - 3iK) TO CORRESPONDENTS.?la order to receiva attention, communications most be accompanhd .by the true name and Address.of the writer, ?v jected manuscripts will not be returned, unless tLe necessary stamps are furnished to repay the poaiaj ;e thereon. 49* We are not responsible for the views aid opinions of our correspondents. All communications should be addressed to "Bi? llon Intelligencer," and all checks, drafts, morn 7 orders, Ac., should be made payable to the ordur of HOYT & CO., Anderson, 8. C. bwlex pall. i S.? ?- -'-BY^A-CAROLINE.- - "No, there's nothing half so sweet In life As love's young dream." ? 1 . "IVas a-light that ne'er can shine again On life's ?uiijtream." * ' The party) as'?ie* enter^inmerita at the .Doctor's always were, was a perfect suc .tess.? The iassembly was inotft?n?sualfy large, but it was choice, selected from. ' (h? eltje of .the city. - The Doctor, who ?seemed born to grace such occasions, surpassed even himself that night, in hon mots and brilliant repartee; and his gen tie daughter all declared had never looked more lovely?so tender was the " tight'ivhich. conscious and bashful Jove had lent to her beautifur.eyes, and so varyingr and bright the glow "on her usu allyjpall^"!' ri-\?fffjjyi??tf:irT''^,"nin in pnsrlnnn in hmwrtj ? to-night." said -Richard Egan,^ making th^(^|pl|Le|it| to iris ^lovely 'ho?tes? *wilE marked flattery ;in tone and manner. "Buft, alas, for me,C^V^ha^sQbS.'|)oli request that you would grace my humble flower.by wearing it, has been slighted, i and- my ^o^r'cainelia^is wasting its beau *"ty la. "soms', unneeded spot, for loveless eyes to gaze upon." Egan, for that magnificent: japani.caJ | it* ^.isrea31y.th$ ^most^eaut^?il.^nd,perfect ? T 'have ever, seen, not the very tiniest spot can.be found to mar its .whiteness. J And see nere,*? is b^cc^piig/as^f^fe^ J^au jty deserves,..the most cdnsplfch??s place ? iu the fuuru,|h^ftf*5ffifiW>""pbTntIhg lo~a pier tablergpfttAlelpA^.^fse had been placed, aiJo^BrainngSransement at the young man'*s conceited, melodramatic .rmanner. . ? - .- > j TajnfyBt lyojld' ?tnifr h$ve jeen it ?fading in your sMning-tresSes, or wilting in the clasp of your broach as those vio? lets are, fanned by the warm breath from your fresh ancLrosy lips! But what a bevy of pretty girls you have gathered around, you to-night! ? Still ? Annie St. Julien-! HaMSt the^he, thV onlV one, whose smile possesses more than a pass? ing charm for me. - Who is that beauti M?f Mahakn rarid- Mr. >iflta^y Ee\BJr6fit" "Miss Gordon, from A-, Georgia, She is a friend of Miss Maham'swho been our guest for the past week. She is as interesting in mind and manner as she is.lovely in person. Come, and let us join the1 group,' and Twill introduce yqu^* "I do not-know that I can be more en? tertained than in watching with you the play of their countenances. Miss Ma ham hWa remarkably expressive face, and wondrously beautiful eyes. When grown. |he wiU b^Ji^rely, heaptjufpland attractive woman; girl*as* sue Is) It af? fords;-one great pleasure to talk to her, she is so intelligent, quick and earnest. But take my arm and let us go and learn k*s X brow." "Miss Gordon permit me to iritroduce: M? ^ff?j?? pJft pjay dq>not let us inter? rupt your conversation, for, tnire rums, think .he is curious to learn what subject danM so fraught with life 'and'interest f& t<J qave stirrejd 'so unusually the! self contained bland, and softened Mr. Lc Baron. My old friend's voice is actually raised nearly a semitone," said Annie, smiting, and offering her hand to'a mic die-aged gentleman of suave and pleaS ing manner.. '?f-'Aai'dniy eri'qVirfng M&: Gordon'! opinion of the drama she witnessed last night, in f*shigh -Soj^h^^arolina ^enacted the part of tne Tuiriatic,' but I find she has been here just long enough to have caught the fever which isxonsumingl the braim oPWvfctfifo's, and* making imbe? ciles of our "wisest ?ren*;'r' said -Mr. Le Baron, with :a little.touch of ridicule in his low and well modulated voice. "And I," said Rose, naively, "am sur? prised to 'find -that South Carolina- .has grve4i trirtfi'eto a Von* wlm'does' riot prize her honor and renown above j all", other earthly good!".,,, _ -? /> - " x*-W $>i^i-^ fty ?f/|y?1 am not simply a Carolinian. I owe " allegiance to the great head of the body politic?the Fed? eral Government. 'It is.mot that I love Ca*a?leS?] jfic&brf R?lie^q^.1^ Ah, Brutus.! Brutus! In defiance of | the" world's opinion I always thought Brutus a self-deceiver, and loved Brutus better than either Rome or Caesar," said Rose, laughing. "A girl's politics!" said Mr. Le Baron, with a'smile "of patronizing compassion, as he turned and addressed Mr. Egan. "But" really is it not vain, foolish and presurhptuous for a petty little State like South Carolina, so., destitute of men, money or meant, to confront and oppose a gigantic power like the United States?" "Why, yes, ita smallness reminds us of j the 'flea that dared to breakfast on the lip' of the lion,'" said Mr. Egan, who was disposed to be like the Irishman who said, when asked to what party he bet longed, "If you be British, me be British, ifyou be Meriky, me be Meriky." "Atany rate, every one must admit it is''a valiant flea' which so dares, arid I thoyghti you, Mr. Egan, were one of the foremost in the secession ranks," Said Marion, warmly, who had been hitherto a silent listener. "A : claimant fbr fair ladies' favors, I can do no otherwise than espouse the side where 'report of valor" is to be found,''said the embryo "scalawag." * .'.'Carolina needs no carpet knights, for they grow everywhere as thick as black? berries, and valor has two sides," said Marion, with, a curling lip. "Some think caution's prudence is its better part. If | such be your opinion, you are sworn on thcrwrong side, for .the most devoted of her children realize that Carolina's safety is only to be found in the extremity of danger." - , i. " 7'You: are too serious, Mis3 Marion," said Mr. Eiran^ earing admfaanpy on the excited girl. "I did but jest, Carolina in rtor ne^^ffi^llhd ir?treei'sbn than feard-Egani0-- ' ? ' ~' "Then you are cruel, which is the mildest rebuke that can be given a son who could, for jest, mock at a mother's griefs^' was -the grave reply.' ? "I am not surprised to find a warm eece&sionost rin my little [favorite.; here," said Mr.1 Le Baron, placing1 "his hand lightly on Marion's shoulder, "for she is a girl and a dreamer, but that men, *?d wise men, should be so mad as never to look ; for defeat and its consequences I Overpowered Carolina must surely be, and what then?" ? "We ? HI then have the comfort, a sad one though it may be; of knowing we proudly straggled for freedom! One drop of blood from the heart of the hero who fell in^U^rty^causej^jfceJ^ri'' "who ^?cTpeered" into "The. treasures of ]ocean,x earth; and Alf, thought jjnqf mjean 'offering, "wr?P- Which5 to seeVto* Hft hb.& p6jrj^ta^h^ofj|3^Ten's gate!" replied tine excitro girl. ; * "Said I not she is a girl and a dreamer! Poetic fancies are . the fabrics of wfcjch I ?he builds nations! Silly ckildj do* you ;aot know that the woridi the praotical world, in f which we. live, ^looks Tor .the j MuJti ^ore rV pronounces {upbhl the IrighVor wrong of an act, and success only I ?an' make a patriot of a rebel1?" ... I I)r. St. Julien, who had" joined the | Ijrbiip a little while before, now spoke : 11 ".We will not admit, Mr. Le Baron, I that-truths- are iess.-trutbs. because they I reach..our hearts and minds clothed in the' soft language of the popt. fJpme of the sublimest revelations of God'a won-1 derful dealings with the children of men are charactered in the impassioned lan? guage of poetry. Neither will I admit that a woman's mind cannot gTaspvrhat is best foijtlje weal or wpe.?of her native land f' Ldve^-hlgh,' enduring, self-deny ing;Jove, guides a true woman's heart, und as she reasons through her heart, she reasons aright, where man's cold, and selfish calculations would make him cast lingering, longing looks back upon 'the [ flesh pots of Egypt.' But, my dear friend/we are not thirsting for the blood of our brethren. "We would rather part I as did'Abraham of old with his kinsman, ahdsay: *Let there be no strife, I pray thee, between me and thee.' We hope 'Uncle Sain' will bid us 'depart in peace.' But if instead he cry, 'Havoc, and,let slip the) 4?& o? war,'\ we; will * cheer ? us . with tie words of the wise man, 'the battle is not always, to the atrong.' Now, let.ua defer these grave and vexed questions for another time. I have come to beg Miss. Rose for;some music, she is always oblig? ing enough to favor my old-fashioned taste with the sweet melodies of Burns I and Moore." , Rose' modestly and unaffectedly com? plied, and playfully acknowledged that she did not deserve the Doctor's eulpgium on her pure taste for simple music, since she was passionately fond of the opera, but her professor had prohibited her sing? ing them until her voice could acquire' more strength. Rose had a sweet voice, and sung with taste and tenderness, and although she was succeeded at the piano I by amateurs and professors, who both executed^ and j?ung with^ scientific bril lianojPaWo? skill; nene-gave greatei^pleas hre to the listener than the tender melo ?dies sang by Rose. ' The evening hours passed lightly and quickly by, charmed by sweet music and ?bright conversation, and when the pleased and pleasing guests in bidding "Good! night," courteously expressed it one off the most pleasant evenings they had ever spent, there was perhaps more of honest truth in the sentiment than is usually found in those formal conven? tionality iAi^?? TWgd&ti MvingxIepBrteaftne "weary girls, except Annie, sought rest in the embraces of Morpheus. Again the pet? ted daughter sought her father in his library, where she knew he would be taking a last smoke before going to bed. With the freedom of a spoiled darling, she seated herself on his lap, and putting her arms around his neck rested her head on his broad and manly chest. "Has my little fairy come for a good night kiss?" he asked, drawing her close? ly to him and pressing his lips with al? most lover-like fondness on her spotless brow. "My darling looks pale and weary, she must go and hunt in sleep some roses to show me to-morrow." "I want to tell you something first, papa; something about myself." "What is it, my pet, is one of the cana? ries dead? or is your favorite bracelet broken ? but perhaps it is a more serious matter still?Mr. Egan has broken your heart or bewildered your poor little head with his flatteries!" said the Doctor, playfully, bnt gently lifting with his hand the pretty face that nestled so closely to his heart. "Neither, papa," she answered, with tear-dimmed eyes, "you must not joke, and you must listen to me!" "Why, my daughter, is it really some? thing serious ? There are tears in your eyes! Tell me what ails my darling? are you sick, Annie?" he anxiously questioned. "No, not sick, papa! but, oh, so sorry and glad, too!" Then, in a low and agi? tated voice, she told her love story?a story she knew would fill her father's heart with sorrow. 'Have I then lost my little girl's heart?" he said, sadly. "Must I give away my little 'birdie' that I have so loved and cherished? and is it my Annie wbo comes to plead my rival's suit?" "Oh! papa, papa, do not speak so! you grieve me. I will not leave you, dearest papa; no, never! but I could not de ceive you. I love Walter, and, ph, dear papa, forgive me, for I cannot help it! But I love you, too, my own papa. Papa, did you not love mamma and your little Annie, too?only in a different way?" "Yes, darling, but it is very hard to give my only one, my all, away! I feel as if I cannot part with you, Annie I" "But you must not give me away, papal Indeed, I will not leave you," she'said, clinging to him more closely; "but forgive me if I love Walter, for oh, papa, I cannot help it 1" "Well, well, 'Birdie,' go to bed now," said the Doctor, caressing her; "papa is not . angry, with his darling, and rest as? sured Annie, my child's happiness shall be, as it ever has been; my'deafest care." "Thank you, my own papa, f?r n?t being angry with your Annie," said the gentle girl, rising from his knee to kiss him good night. Just then there was a knock at the door, and the Doctor's cheerful "Come in" was responded to by "Walter Maham Walking into the room, but seeing Annie with her father, he hesitated, apologized and said as the Doctor was engaged he would seek him another time. ' "0, no, you are not de trop, Walter, take a seat," said the Doctor, at the same time drawing the poor little shrinking Annie back on his lap. ^What 5s your errand? Pray speak freely, for Annie is my wise little counsellor, and we are , as close confidants as ? brace of fichool girls," he added, looking mischievously at Annie, who had not raised her shy soft eyes since Walter's entrance into the : room. ?* Walter, who possessed considerable quickness, Boon perceived that the Doc? tor had guessed the character of his errand, and' unwilling to ?dd to poor Annie's confusion, he remained silently standing. "Pray.be seated, Walter." ; /? . "Thank you, sir, I prefer standing, as I come in the character of a beggar," said Walter, approaching the table by which the Doctor sat, and meeting his keen, questioning look with one which, though respectful, was brave and frank. "What is your petition?" ' ''Annie, I would spare your blushes,1 but your father wills it otherwise," said; Walter, casting a sympathizing glance npon the shy' and blushing girl; "and you, Bir," turning to the Doctor, "I see have divined my request. I am here a suitor for your daughter's hand." "My daughter's hand!' Hearts it seems are base coin now-a-days." j "Annie's heart is already mine," said Walter,'casting a glance of proud ten-: derness upon , his love. "Honestly and; frankly, I have sought you to tell you! that I love your sweet daughter with alii the fervor and strength of a true man's heart, and to beg yofl to sanction and. bless our love, and so make it an unal? loyed joy to us." "You ask me, Walter Maham, for that which is more precious to me than the diamonds of Golconda or the storied pjarls of Oman; you ask me for my child?my one'little lamb! What have you to offer in return ? People are not wont to ask a man's all without propos? ing some recompense." . "If hearts are not 'base coin,' I offer to Dr. St. Julien a son's duty and affection, and to his gentle daughter a husband's devoted love," said W?rter, in a voice whose ring carried a conviction of his ?truthfulness to the listener's heart. "Well, weli, Walter, I am.a selfish old man, and must test your boasted love and devotion a little. I know you hare set your heart with enthusiasm upon- the ministry as a life-long vocation";' as a minister you cannot know to what post you may be assigned, and if called away from the city, perhaps from our State, I will be compelled to part with my child; and that, Walter?forgive a parent's foolish fondness for his only little one?I feel I cannot do. You have talent and an address which'Tvould insure success in any profession, and a true Christian can find a plenty of work to do for his Master in every Vocation of life. Be a lawyer or an M. D., anything you please but a parson, and come and live with me, and I would rather see my Annie the wife of Walter Maham than any man living!" said Dr. St. Julien, warmly holding out his hand to Walter. Walter drew back, and although very pale, answered firmly: "My dear friend, I eannot gratify your wishes. I have solemnly vowed (unless providentially hindered) to dedicate my? self, all that I am, and all that I have to the service of ray Master, in the work of the ministry. I feel it to be my duty to use the talents He has given me for His glory, and I cannot, no, I dare not, even for the hope of calling sweet Annie St; Julien mine, renounce my high calling! I love your daughter, but I desire to lovo my God best." "Walter is right, papa," said Annie, lifting her sweet face for the first time", and speaking in a low but decided voice. "I must not be made his tempter. If he prove recreant to his high trust, he could be Walter Maham no more to me! But fear not, darling papa, your Annie will never leave you!" "Dear sir," said Walter with gentle deforence, "will it be too much to ask you to go with us, your children, if we are in the path of duty? I know it will be a great tri:<! for you to give up your beaut iful home and old* friends, but we will strive by attentions, such as only true love can offer, to make amends for all your sacrifices; and I may find my post of duty right here in this loved old city, but that we know not, let us leave it all in His hands, 'who doeth all things well,' only I pray you do riot tempt me to forsake my Master!" "Walter," said Annie, gently, "say no more, do not urge papa, he is geutle, generc us and kind, and would refuse us nothing that is best; and you know, Walter, God's will is always best." "My gentle darling," said the Doctor, taking her band and.placing it in Wal? ter's, "you have conquered! Your sweet humility and dutiful affection have con? quered my unmanly selfishness ! Your happiness' has ever been my 'first and chief care, and your old father's jealous love shall not mar it now. Take her, Walter, and may the God you serve, bless you both; and I doubt not but you are worthy, even of my 'Birdie's' love. And now, little one, 'fly to your rest and seek for rosy slumbers, for, mind you, I will h?ve no pale cheeks to-morrow!" The next day dawned brightly for the happy lovers. Col. Mab am and family returned to Berkley Hall, accompanied by Arthur and Jessie?Dr. St. Julien promising .to follow in a few days with his daughter to spend Christmas week on the old plantation. ? ?>??:?. TO BE CONTINUED. ' Bead and Inwardly Digest.' The following article which. we. copy from the Ma.con (Georgia) Telegam and Afmengirri should be read by every one who feels an interest in his or her own :fut?re Welfare. We do not knOW when we have read an article'that embodied so much good, sound, practical -advice to -our people. Retrenchment and heroic self-deciiial must.be the watchwords - in every household;-. ? ? ?? .: , One of. our bank presidents, a saga cious, cultivated gentleman, and withal possessed of much practical wisdom and the highest integrity, considers the im? mense loss'of meat in Georgia, resulting from the'extraordinary warm spell, which continued for so many weeks through the' .very heart of the hyperborean - season, as one of the greatest calamities that ever befel the State.. It daunts the rising en? ergies of the people; dashes .fond hopes and proud anticipations of independence from the galling yoke of the, Yyest i,ne-j cessitates new sacrifices'and terrible suf? fering, and brings the farmer once more, face to face with the direful consequences of subjugation and emancipation. 1 ' In tb 2 present tottering condition of the finances, when resumption is insisted upon by Congressional .enactment, and there is a either bullion or coin for. the redemption of two billions of paper, un? less the alchemist .can transmute base metals into gold, and create something Out of nothing, credit must expire. A^na even if :he capitalists were willing to take the chances of a reaction in trade, -there still remains the sable pall of the homestead and bankrupt laws, which have rung the death knell to all confi? dence between' man and. man, and re? duced, to hard pap every' commercial transaction. ,. Henc/5, the luckless farmer who owns ? few acres and one or two mules only, supplemented 'by his own honest heart arid brawn and muscle, must -pine and languish, for deliverance from the mis-| fortunes of a bad season, without being; able to obtain pecuniary assistance, for-' sooth,.because a Radical, mongrel- State: Convention decreed that nineteen twen? tieths of the.people should retain in per-' peiuo their entire property, no matter un? der what; circumstances, and in defiance of the most sacred obligations: ' Merchants and banks too, nevertheless, have continued to advance, and, despite the appare.it large profits and usurious interest charged for. their own protection agiinst fraudulent creditors (the honest, ? alaj, being forced to assume the risk of the unreliable,) have steadily gro wn poor? er and poorer, and not a few have suc? cumbed, and are now penniless. One of the most opnlent and extensive mer? chants and private bankers in Southwest Georgia, told Abe writer recently that "he had. not made a dollar in three years," and nearly all that he was worth was credited out, while every day homestead and bankrupt, notices come pouring in, and the law was made the cloak.for ig? noring all benefactions and' obligations. ?o wonder then that the poor and un? fortunate, who ha ve l?st their meat and made short crops, have a year of sorrow and tribulation before them. ; T hese laws and the treachery of pat? rons, have paralyzed the hands of the bankers and capitalists, and now there is no more .hope of relief from these sou rces. What tbeu are the only partial remedies? ... . , First?Retrenchment, in its severest senue. Discard fijie clothing arid super' fluous luxuries; renounce whiskey and tobacco ; give up traveling, a id stay at home; discharge house servants, and do your own work; it will make you happy and independent; don't attempt what you are unable to accomplish. In other words, be manly a id honest, and curtail, at any and every sacrifice of feeling ana comfort, your expenses within your in? come. To do otherwise, is to plant thorns in ydur own piflow, and hasten the day of exposure, poverty and shame. Then Jie'condly-^-Renounce the insane hope of paying your debts and growing rich by planting cotton. It is a delusion and fallacy. The cost of producing that staple is now within a fraction of its market value. It will bring you to want if persisted in, and prove au ignis faiuus. ever shining and alluring, but vague ana deceptive. Better far plant potatoes, rice, sugar cane, wheat, and other cereals, and turn your attention to fruit, wine culture and stockraising. There is- no discoun t on these productions,for, after be? stowing comfort and abundance at home, the surplus will always be in demand by the multitudes of consumers all over the world. But just here, let every farmer pause, and resolve himself into a com? mittee of one to petition and urge upon the General Assembly, the propriety and necessity of enacting a dog law and call? ing a convention to repair the errors of our present constitution. Property must be protected and theft punished at the whipping post, if we ever hope to relieve our jails of the crowd of contented pris? oners who draw rations out of the public crib, and inspire respect for the laws. Third and lastly?Reduce the size of your farms, and cultivate every acre pos? sible with aid of the family, renting out the renifdiider only to those who have the means of sustaining themselves du? ring the working season, or sewing it down in oats, ?ueh prudeutial action, united with industry and economy, will do much to retrieve the situation, and restore prosperity to the country. This advice has been given time and agai n in the columns of the Telegraph, but it cannot be repeated too often and should be stereotyped and graven upon the souls of every citizen and farmer. Retrench? ment, honesty, less cotton, diversity of crops; these are the talismanic words that mean peace, happiness and inde? pendence. ? ? There are two words in tho English language that contain all the vowels in regular succession, and if a person is will? ing to live abstemiously, and not. regard this statement facetiously, he will see what the words are. ? An exchange says that amid the general reduction of wages in these times there is one thing whose wages is not in the least reduced, and that is sin. THE PALMETTO STATE. the political situation in south ? carolina?governor chamberlain in defence of reform and hi8 parts' fealty?the character of the newly elected judges, whtf per and moses. . Correspondence .of the New York Herald. .: ? Washington, Jan. 24, 1876." The political situation in South Caro? lina and the condition of the Republican party there are much discussed here, and some expressions used in conversation by a prominent Republican member of Con? gress, having been reported to Governor 'Chumberiain, he has written in reply, under date of January 13, the following letter, which gives at some length, and id very plain language, the Governor's view j;of affairs in his State, and of the tenden , cy of the struggle the re: I .letter of governor chamberlain. Dear Sir?I have to-day received a letter from a friend who has recently conversed with you, in which he writes, "Mr. ?? looks on your [my 1 attitude as in practical identification with the demo? crats, and already gives up the Statu (South Carolina) to'the opposition." ' I am sure you would; not - willingly, reach either of the above conclusions, 'And therefore I'nra forced to think that .you are greatly misinformed in regard to u the..posture of political .affairs' in this State. I am aware, too, that you are greatly and sincerely interested in ,tho fortunes of Southern republicans, and IJ 'therefore conclude that you Will listen Col 'statements which may be laid before you thobgh they may not agree with the con - ?elusions which you have already reached. . I bag your indulgence whilej as briefly ?as possible, I give you my views, of the situation here. ,.,. XXj-Governor F. J. Mosesf jr., was my predecessor in offipe. During his term 'of'office the conduct of public affairs by "him and 'his followers' was such that i, vast majority of the 'republican part)- j btecime Convinced that a thorough reform,' or the promise of it,' was'the Only way it, rwhich the success of the party could be secured in 1875. For some reason Twaii selected aa the candidate for Governor of .those, who held such views. I had beer Attorney General of the State from 1868 to 1:572, and on account of my connec? tion with public affairi here during thai, ?period I was distrusted by many republi? cans, and my nomination was hotly con-1 tested, on the. sole ground that I was not likely to carry out the promised reforms of. our party. Upon my nomination, though I had pledged myself in every form to immediate and rigid reform, a bolt took, place, embracing many of oui best and most devoted republicans,, who , refused to support me because I could not, in their judgment, be trusted to car? ry out practical reform. My election was ?fiercely contested by those republicans' on that ground alone, while my friends and I stoutly, asserted,; by our platform and speeches everywhere, that if I was elected thorough and complete, reform should take place. I' was elected by a inajqrity of 11,000 Votes, as against a ma? jority of 85,000 for Moses two years pre? vious and 40,000 for Scott four years pre? vious, this reduced majority being solely due to the distrust of" me and my sup? port eri by a considerable wing of our party on the single issne of* reform. the governor's work. I took my seat as Governor December 1,1874, ana I addressed myself earnestly to the work of keeping the pledges I had made and the pledges made for mc by all my friends and by our platform in the campaign. I soon found! that many of those who supported me in the campaign and had talked reform did not want re? form; but I persevered, determined as a matter of right, and of good policy, to ad-r here to my party platform and pledges, Of course, those who disliked practical reform cried out, "He is going over to the'democrats!" "He wants social re- i cognition from the rebols !" and all the rest of those senseless cries such as you now hear about me. Still I persevered ; and when our Legislature mot in Novem? ber, last there was apparent harmony be-: tween me and my party, and a complete acquiescent in the,wisdom ofthe policy of reform as carried but by me. The re? sult was that at that time the democracy of this State was disarmed and had no hope, apparently, of even nominating a separate State ticket in Opposition to the republican party. Neither under the guise of "tax unions" or the "conserva? tive" party could they or did they main? tain even an organization worthy the name. The leaders, could not persuade the masses of the white people that they could secure any better governmen than they were enjoying undsrmy administra? tion. Now what had I done up to that time? I challenge contradiction from any source when I solemnly affirm that I had doue nothing; not one thing, which was not pledged by me, on every stump, in, the State when J. was a candidate; nothing which our party platform did not de? mand; nothing but what every man who now opposes me declared in that cam? paign to be indispensable; nothing which you or any other honest republican would not say was right and republican. This is a broad statement, but I defy proof of any sort in contradiction of it in any par? ticular. Suppose you talk with someone in Washington who is now denouncing me?and it certainly cannot be difficult, judging from what I hear, to find such. Ask him what Governor Chamberlain had done before these recent judicial elections that indicated any infidelity to the republican party ? Ask him if I had appointed democrats to office ? If he tells you the truth he will say no, for the fact that never siince 1868 were there so few democrats in office in this State as since my administration. I know whereof I affirm and will prove it to you if you find it denied. Ask him further if I advo? cated or approved any measures of legis? lation which were in any possible sense u n republican or opposed to the interests of the republican party. He cannot name one, for there is not one. Ask him if I proclaimed any doctrines which were not held by the republican party. He will not be able to point out one. Ask him if I,ever in any way affiiliatcd politi? cally with, the democracy or had any? thing to do" with them politically, nearly or remotely. He will not be able to point out any such action or tendency of any kind or degree. What, then, is the mat? ter with me ? Why was I disliked and denounced by some members of my own party ? Simply for this, I insisted on rea? sonable taxes, competent officers, honest expenditures, fair legislation and no steal? ing, and the democrats praised me for it. public plunder. The last two things are my offence. I did not sanction schemes of public plun? der?such as our Printing Ring, for in? stance, but the cost of public printing per year was cut down from ?180,000 to $50, 000, and contingent funds from' $180,000 to ?27.000, and I repeat the democrats praised me. Now, I.make this offcr; if any man will contradict a single statement of fact I have thus far made I willprovc him a liar to your satisfaction. The extent of my guilt, for permitting the democrats to praise me, I cannot precisely measure. Some men reason that I must be a traitor because democrats praise me, but that will not quite do, I am sure, with you. Why should not the democrats praise me ; Low taxes are popular, even with democrats. Competent officers are pre? ferred to incompetent ones, even by South Carolina democrats. Honest expendi? tures of public moneys are acceptable to democrats even, and "no stealing" is al? most ever, .vhere rather a popular slogan, to say nothing about its Oeing right. I never asked their praise. If there had been anything to ask of them, I would have earnestly asked them not to praise me, because their praise would give a pretext to the Washington.,Republican and such sort of people to denounce me, as they are doing now, as fit only for the Penitentiary. But they did praise me, theydo praise me; and I conless I don't see how I can help it. Seriously, sir, if I have-told you the truth', ought I to be denounced by repub? licans as a traitor? Ought I to be con? sidered by you as "in practical identifica? tion with the democracy," because. the taxpayers of South. Carolina praise me for doing what every republican who sup? ported me in the' last campaign said I -would do and asked the people to vote for me .because I, would, do?: Such was (the. condition of affairs here on the 15th day of last December. The democracy of South Carolina was in perfect collapse, iNo State issues could have-'given them .life or activity. It is doubtful-.whether national issues would: have had force enough to have even induced , a canvass "of the State for the democratic candidates in the coming Presidential campaign, under the circm. stances then existing. ELECTION--OF M03E8-AND WHIPPER. ? On the loth of December last the Gen eralAssembly, un,der influences which it is impossible now to state fully, elected T. J. Mo3es, Jr., and W. J. Wnipper as judges of the Circuit Court of this State, the latter for the circuit which embraces the city of .Charleston and constitutes the most important' circuit of the State in poitt of population^ wealth arid business. Are you aware who these men1 are ? Moses was my predecessor as Governor. Unless the universal belief among, all classes of people in this State is mistaken, he is as infamous a character as ever in any age disgraced and prostituted public position. If there is anybody in Wash? ington who shall happen to deny this, I will prove it to your abundant satisfac? tion. To mention nothing'else out of the long roll of his offences, here is a specimen:?Disappointed in not being re nominated for Governor, he entered into a conspiracy with some of the leaders of the democracy and independent republi? cans to elect my opponent and actually sold, out the Commissioners of Elections, pf whom he had the sole appointment, to my opponents for $30,000, of which $15, 000 was paid to him in cash, and the rest rnade^ contingent oh the1 election of my opponent. Of Whipper it can be said that lie seems to have lacked only oppor? tunity to prove himself the equal of Moses in infamy. Ignorant of law, igno? rant of morals, a gambler by open p?c ticc, t\n embezzler of public funds, he is as unlit for judicial position-as any man whom by any possibility you could name. Nei ther Of these men.have even the poor qualification which the infamous demo? crat ic judges of New York had, of Buch a degree^ of legal knowledge, as to qualify them for the intelligent discharge of any judicial duty. What has been the result? Their election has sent a thrill of horror through the whole State. It has split the republicans in twain; the moribund democracy has awakened to new life and new hopes. No man who respects civili? zation and public decency can do less than denounce these elections without measure. No decent man can do less than oppose tb/ jo, can do less than fight against those who elected them or who acquiesced iri them. Do you expect us to do in South Carolina what you would sooner lose your right arm than do in Indiana ? Such a test indeed cou. J nev? er arise in Indiana, but it has arisen here, . and you err wholly if you imagine that living here you would, for one moment, think of tolerating these-elections. You ' could not do it, and you would spurn, as an insult, the suggestion of supporting i or acquiescing in them. ? Well, what I have said and done re? specting these elections is known to you, 1 pr?sume. I have done what you would have done-^-refused to sanction, aid or abet the carrying out of this great crime against society, and again?worst of all crimes, apparently?the democrats praise me. Now in the light of w.hat I, have stated, and I am responsible to truth and to anybody who questions or is ag : grieved thereby for what I have stated, : what would you have-me do ? At what ?points, in what particular 'have I"identi i tificd myself practically with the democ? racy ?" Is it treachery to the .republican party or "identification with the democra? cy" to insist on decent men for judges of our courts ? There is not a man in South Carolina wh" would trust Moses with $10. Is it treachei y to my party to refuse to tolerate his elevation to the Bench, where he will have millions within the grasp of his thieving, bribed palm? Is it "identi? fication with the democracy" to oppose such, a man by every influence to the bit? ter end ? To doubt your answer is to doubt your moral preceptions. THE FUTURE FBOSPECTS. Now, sir, I have a word to say about what you are reputed to have said to the effect that "you already give up the State to th e opposition." That result rests very largely with you. You are influential, able; you hold a commanding position and you have a commanding voice in our party affairs. If South Carolina is to be "given up to the opposition" it is because ?you. and others whom you can influence jfrll to help me and my friends to "un? load''?to use a-current phrase?the in? famy of these judicial elections. And here let me speak plainly. To cry "dem? ocrat" at me at this time is to support Moses and Whipper. I am a republican of just as many years' standing as I have seen years of discretion. I have no ten? dency to any other party; no associations ?no sympathy with any other party. I wani, to see South Carolina remain a re? publican State, but I tell you no party can rale this State that supports Whip? per and Moses, and to denounce us who are to-day denouncing the election of these men is to support them. It is in vain, sir, to say, as the National Republi? can ii saying, that you have no sympathy with those elections, that they are "almost an unpardonable blunder," and with the next breath declare that I am "practical? ly identified with the democracy." If I have done anything but oppose bad gov? ernment and especially to denounce and and oppose these judicial elections let it be pointed out. But, until that is done, to denounce me and my friends here as traitors to the republican party is to "practically identify" yourself with ?loses aud Whipper. There is but one way to save the republican party in South Carolina, and that way is, I repeat, to unload Moses and Whipper and all who go with them. It will be difficult to restore 'jonfidence in a party whose members were once capable of such an act as their election, but if our action is prompt and decided, if you and the republicans at Washington will put your feet upon such . tldngs and stamp them out, wc can yet make South Carolina and keep her as safely republican as Vermont and Iowa. If this is not done we go down here as a party to hopeless and deserved defeat and infamy. Neither'the administration at ?Washington,, with all its appliances, civil and military, nor all the denunciations of the world heaped upon me, can save the republican party here from overwhel? ming defeat during this year, unless we can persuade- the people of this State that such things as these judicial elections will be undone and never by possibility be repeated.' I have written very earnestly, but with a spirit of perfect respect for you and of freat admiration of your abilities and evotion to the republican party. I could not forbear from making knoivn to you my views, and especially from stating to you the facts as they exist here in South Carolina. I do not care so much to vindicate myself as to give , you h correct idea of the situation here'and the necessity of sustaining1 those who are fighting against the suicide of the re? publican party?now nearly committed? in South Carolina. Make any use you see fit of this letter. 1 Place rnewhereever you see fit after you have read it; but, I beseech you, help to .save the republican party here in the only way it can be saved?by a firm, un f compromising and instant, denunciationi ?of all such acts as those recent'elections,, .and by sustaining those who at great .cost, to .themselves are trying to stay the mad waves of destruction put in- motion' by those who find little else to do in such 'an emergency except to denounce me as a/'democrat," Yours respectfully. D. H. CEAMSEKLAIN, Governor of.South Carolina. Theme Wriling in Schools. There is a great deal of just complaint nowadays that children in public and private schools aie crammed with facts, without any order or ^sequence, and cer? tainly, without any attempt to develop Jbe reasoning powers of their brains.-? They are required to bolt each day a'cer \ tain number of rules, gramatical Or math? ematical; or of the-names of rivers in Asia or the population of towns in Yuca? tan. As for any practical bearing which these odd facts can' have on their daily life they know nothing of it. When, on the contrary, they are set to write "themes" or "compositions," almost .in? variably abstract topics are given them? purely imaginative Or philosophical sub? jects, which require unlimited data and long experience to treat even intelligent? ly. The most of these subjects are hack? neyed beyond use. How many grown men or women could write an essay oh Virtue, or Liberty, or the triumphs' of Genius that should contain one fresh thought or turn of c ^iression that was j not a shameless platitu j 1 Yet it is just such' thenies that girls and boys pore over weekly, striving to drag from their unde? veloped brains and their experience' of the ball of croquet ground or the class* room some new reflections, on the_great ideas that have ruled mankind. Varia? tions of precisely such topics as these the undergraduate selects to regale his hear? ers on commencement days. There was even in the recent intercollegiate contest a noticeable effort on the part of the young essayists to grasp the most practi? cal subject in a generalizing philosophic, or poetical fashion, which would impress any hearer as unreal if not false. We uhall be told by teachers that this propensity is due w> the crudity of the boy's mind; to the lack of actual weigh? ty experience, from which to deduce ideas or conclusions. Why then is he not required to deduce his ideas and con? clusion; from such experience as he has ? If instead of flighty disquisition concern? ing Greeks and Romans whom he knows nothing about, a lad. of twelve or fourteen were left to write about his father's boat orhorsc!, or his last nighfs rabbit-hunt, his brain would be roused, his matter would be original, and his style vigorous.' Nor weald it be necessary to confine him to such home themes. Turn him loose in a machine-shop, a dockyard, or a. pasture, according to his locality, and let him tell what he sees there; or give a firl a historical place or character and alfa dozen books of reference, and let her bring the result of her researches. In' either case -the child will have learned facts with- a definite understanding of their purpose, and will have written in words which' have a real significance of real things, and the teacher will have gained t. clearer insight into the tastes, character, and capacity ef his pupil than through years of wearisome memorizing and ' th'jme writing."?New York' Tri? bune. The Cube for GossiP.-r-Dr. Holland,, in Scribner's, given us the following: What is the cure for gossip? Simply, culture. There is a great deal of gossip that has no l.alignity in it. Good-na? tured people talk about their neighbors because,, and only because, they have nothing ielse to talk about. " As we. write, there comes to ustbe pieture of a family of young ladies. We have seen them at home, we have met them in galleries of art, we have caught glimpses of them going from a bookstore, or a library, with a fresh volume in their hands. When' we meet them, they are full of what they: have seen and read. They are brimming, with questions. One topic of conversa? tion is dropped only to give place to another, iih which they are interested. We have left them, after a delightful j hour, stimulated and refreshed; and du? ring the whole hour not a neighbor's gar? ment was soiled by so much as a touch. They had something to talk about. They knew something, and wanted to know more. They could listen as well as they _ could talk. To speak freely of a neigh-' bor's doings and belongings would have seemed an impertinence to them, and, of course, an impropriety. They had_ no temptation to gossip, because the doings of their neighbors formed a subject very much less interesting than those which grew out of their knowledge and their culture. And thi:j tells the whole story. The confirmed gossip is always either mali? cious or ignorant. The one variety needs a change of heart and the other a change of pasture. Gossip is always a personal confession either of malice or imbecility, and the young should not only shun it, but by the most thorough culture relieve themselves from all temptation to indulge in it. It is a low, frivolous, and too often a dirty business. There are country neighborhoods in which it rages like a pest. Churches are split in pieces by it Neighbors arc made enemies by it for life. In many persons it degenerates into a chronic disease, which is practical? ly incurable. Let the young cure it while they may. ? Two white boys and a negro went Sossum hunting, the negro furnishing the ogs. Next day the darkey was asked how they came out. "Kotcht four pos? sums." "Well, what did you get?" '?Dunno, massa, yer see we's gwine in cahoot, and kotch four possums. Mars Jim took two, and Mars Slack two, and a3 we's gwine in cahoot I reckon I gits the cahoot." ? Always laugh at your own jokes; if you want anything well done, do it your? self. Patronize home industry. ANDREW JOHNSON'S WIFE. The Career of a Faithful and Devoted Wile. The widow of ex-President'' Andrevr Johnson has survived her husband but u few months. We have not a living ex President at this time, but there are.ever.. yet three surviving widows of ex-Presi? dents?Mrs. Abraham Lincoln, Mrs. John Tyler, and Mrs. James K. Polk, whose husband was President thirty years ago. Mrs. Johnson, who died at Green? ville, Teriri., had been a patient sufferer for many long years, including those years when she was the occupant of the White House; and since the death of her husband, in August last, she had been gradually sinking ml her life closed on Saturday night, 15th inst. She was four years younger than her husband, and had, .therefore, just, reached the age of sixty-six years. Her maiden name was Miss Eliza, Mc : Cardie, and she was an attractive dam? sel, when, in her seventeenth year;'she was wooed and won in her mountain home by the poor but ambitious young tailor of Greenville, who was riot yet twenty-one. She was a bright young wo? man, who had obtained such'education .as was afforded by the schools of the day in that part of the country.; and there is no doubt that Andrew Johnson, who.felt the superiority of her acquirements, was largely indebted to her for that mental stimulus which led him into those studies which he pursued with such assiduity from the period of their marriage. . It is stated that the youthful couple used to study together far into the night, When all the rest of the villagers were asleep: that she was in the habit of reading aloud to him while, he worked away at his trade of tailoring; that she aided him to learn to read fluently, and that she - guided his hand while he struggled to acquire the art of writing. It is often said that she taught him the alphabet; but this is a mistake; for though he was never at school, he had pushed beyond that' stage of learning before he left North Carolina for Tennessee. She was to. him- a most excellent and gentle housewife,. as. well as a teacher of indefatigable zeal,'while at the same-time she displayed the' best practical capacity in: her ways of life and in the ordering of their humble house' hold. In still other ways she assisted him, and his early popularity in Green? ville was largely owing to the frankness and .amiability, of her intercourse with the people of the village. We have heard, of her modest pride when Mr. Johnson, a "Few years after their marriage, received that fust public 1 honor upon which he himself was always so fond of dilating, in his;election to the office of Alderman. Their borne was gladdened by little | children, and her husband's fame increased until he wore the laurels of the Mayornlity, to which office he was elected for three terms.. During these years, as tnrough all the subsequent years of her life, she herself was of the most j retiring disposition,I'and- always avoided anything that might bring her into any I sort of publicity, sayieg to i women of more ambition that her enjoyment was in her home, with her children; practicing the economy rendered necessary by her husband's slender .means. When Mr. Johnson went to Nashville as. a - member of the Tennessee Legislaturshe remain? ed at Greenville in charge of their house? hold; and even when he became-Gov? ernor of the State, she continued to main? tain that degree of. domestic privacy which was most congenial to her nature In the spring of 1861, when Mr. John? son was. a Federal Senator, just' before the outbreak of the war, she removed to Washington; but after a short residence there with-her husband, she had'.to re? turn to Tennessee on account - of her health. She was there, and be was in Washington, when the war began; and, as he could not enter Tennessee,: which was then a member of the Confederacy, and she could not leave the State by rea? son of ill health, they were separated from. each other for nearly two. years. Her experiences during this period' were of a trying kind. - In . 1862 the Confed? erate authorities required her to leave the Confederacy, but they did not enforce the order upom,learning her. condition.? Some months afterward she was so dis? turbed over the reports about her hus? band that she asked permission to leave, which-was granted; but it was only after many setbacks, many troubles, and much hard journeying, that the feeble woman at last reached Nashville, where, her hus? band was installed as military Governor of Tennessee. His emotion on meeting his suffering wife, after their long separa? tion, amid the stormy scenes of war, over? came him, and were relieved by profuse tears. In a short time, her mother's heart was pierced by the death of her eldest son, who had just been' appointed an army surgeon; and was instantly killed by being thrown from his horse. When Mr. Johnson went on' from Nashville to Washington, in 1865, to en? ter on the office of Vice-I>resident, he made preparations for the removal of his wife and family to Greenville1; but before he had been able to atecompony her there, the assassination of Mr. Lin? coln induced him to change his plans, ? and take her to the new residence in the White House, to which he had been so unexpectedly called. There she remained with him during the four stormy years of his Presidency as a confirmed invalid. She never appeared in Washington socie? ty, was known to but a small circle" of acquaintances, and was only on rare oc casions met by a few of the friends who I made visits to the White House. She was last seen, during her abode; there, at a party given to her grandchildren, when she was unable'to rise from her chair to greet the guests who were presented to her. Her daughter, Mrs. Patterson; was happily able to relieve her from the du? ties of the household and of society. "We are plain people," said she, ''from the mountains of Tennessee, and-1 trust too much will not be expected of - us here." When President Johnson's Presiden? tial term expired, his wife gladly: return? ed with him to their home in Greenville, and there she lived till his death 'last August, after which she took up her resi? dence with the daughter, at whose house she died. - When the ex-President, after four years of retirement from political life, returned to Washington, in March of last year, as Senator from Tennessee, his wife was un? able to accompany him, and had nohope of ever more leaving her secluded hqine. If Mrs. Johnson had been as well able to act as the adviser and guide of her hus? band during the last part of her life as she was during the first part oftit, he might have been saved from some of (he errors into which he fell. But; frbm first to last, she was to him a wife whom he always loved, who possessed the most amiable traits of character, who exem? plified all the domestic virtues, who as? sisted him in entering arid aided him in pursuing the paths that led to eminence, who bore her sufferings in patience aria' resignation; arid who lived a.'life that.W?hl' make her honorably rememb;red' among American women. ' ? It will pay you to read the* advertis-, ing columns of the InUUigenar. \