that there were found men who signed this paperthus securing for themselves inglorious ease at home, but at the sacrifice of all self-respect.

But to return to our narrative. Thus huddled together in Joe's unfurnished parlor, we still constituted the greater part of the Presbyterian congregation, including two ruling elders. We, therefore, invited the Rev. John G. Law to preach the afternoon sermon to us-which he did, most acceptably. John iii. 16.

About sunset, the order came to transfer us to the common jail; and we were again marched in procession down Main street, and the whole party-some twenty odd-were consigned to dungeons.

We found in the jail about an equal number of the citizens of Clinton, who had been brought up that morning by the United States infantry, on their march from Newberry.

The first night in jail was rather a gloomy one to most of the party; as the transition from comfortable homes to cells from which negro convicts had been but recently removed, was rather sudden and abrupt. A few, however, illustrated their faith by their resignation and contentment under the strange providence which had brought them there.

The writer's personal experience in these new and strange circumstances can be best learned from a journal, kept regularly during his imprisonment, and from which most of what follows in this narrative will be freely taken.

"March 31st, 1870 I rose early, dressed for church, and was reviewing my lesson for my Bible

class, when United States Marshal Hendrix rode up to the college, accompanied by two mounted men. On entering the room, he held out a warrant, endorsed "United States versus J. A. Leland; conspiracy and murder!" Of course, I could only submit, but asked the privilege of eating breakfast before setting out on so novel a campaign. This was granted, and one of the soldiers was detailed to remain with me. After a hearty, but solitary breakfast, I merely bowed "good-morning" to my household; and, pipe in mouth, sallied forth, followed by my guard, with his piece at a shoulder. Each window towards the gate was filled with the heads of the young ladies of the college witnessing this strange exit of their president. *****

April 1st. ***** When ushered into the dungeons, last night, there were three or four of us to each cell, and no preparation for sleeping. The floors were very hard and very dirty, and no provision for ventilation. Our immediate predecessors having been negro convicts who had been confined for months, we had very sensible evidence of their influence on the atmosphere; and one of the party amused us with a seranade, emphasizing the lines:

'You may break, you may ruin the vase, if you will,
But the scent of the roses will hang round it still '

"Our families and friends have sent us abundant supplies for breakfast, this morning, and, thus 'strengthened in the inner man,' we feel defiant. The Clinton roll, added to ours, swells our numbers to some forty,

including two ruling elders, three physicians, and the others mainly merchants and farmers. ***** "April 2d. **** Yesterday, friend T- developed a new trait in his character, or rather, was transformed into a new man. Ordinarily, a very quiet, sober citizen; his friends regarded him as overmodest and retiring. But, on yesterday, he procured two or more bottles of spirits, of different kinds, and was very pressing for all to drink with him. He had the floor most of the afternoon, and was very violent, and even cioquent, in speech and gesture-using, sometimes, all four limbs-and all were amazed at the change that had come over him.

This morning, I saw him sitting on a low box, with his elbows on his knees, and his head pressed between the palms of both hands-the picture of despair! In answer to my question, he had a long confession; the substance of which was, that this had been his first experience in tippling, and, by the help of God, it would be his last. That he had often seen those in trouble made, apparently, very happy by indulging in drink; and, he thought, if any one ever needed a solace of that kind, it was himself, on yesterday. But he had tried the experiment fully, and found that he had to pay for a few hours of delirium, by long hours of throbbing temples, and such mortification and self-reproach as overwhelmed him."

The writer selects the above extract for the benefit of temperance men. Friend T was as good as his word, and, from that day, has never been known to

touch ardent spirits, even when prescribed by a physician.

April 3d. We are under marching orders to-day. That detestable little Yankee Lieutenant of Cavalry, McDougal, had ordered us all to set out on foot for Union C. H., and only to take such baggage as we might be willing to strap to our backs. Our friends, however, have procured road wagons for our use, and, with difficulty, have obtained the consent of this petty tyrant for us to use them. We had been transferred from the cells to the common halls of the jail, after the first twenty-four hours, and have had free intercourse with our friends from the outside. Rev. Mr. Riley, pastor of the Presbyterian Church, visited us on yesterday, and presenting us with a bible, requested us to promise that we would use it morning and evening, at "family worship." This promise was cheerfully and unanimously given."

And it was faithfully kept too. Whatever the surrounding circumstances might be, every morning and evening found us assembled for worship, with that bible. No "family" has ever been more punctual, as there was no possibility of dodging. That bible is now deposited in the Presbyterian Church in Laurens, on the table under the pulpit, as a memorial of the troublous past.

CHAPTER EIGHTH.

JOURNAL OF A PRISONER.

As all the facts connected with our jail experience must be gathered from the journal already mentioned they may come fresher to the reader's notice, if quoted directly from its pages. The writer will, therefore, make free use of it in what is to follow.

"Union Jail, April 4th. Yesterday we had a most. unpleasant wagon ride of thirty-five miles, through a cold, drizzling rain, to the common hall of this jail, which we reached long after night-fall. Our overcoats, etc., were completely saturated, and the jailor could furnish us with no dry blankets, as he said all of his had been burned up in efforts to stay the recent fire in this town. We had no lights, and only the fragments of our noon-day lunch. Yet we had our first "family prayers;" the acting chaplain repeating the 23d Psalm from memory, with the bible in his hands, and singing the hymn beginning, 'There is a fountain filled with blood.' Good Capt. Mc. afterwards declared, that while these exercises were going on, for the first time since his arrest, he 'felt a flood of light and comfort flowing into his soul.""

With floors covered with several coats of tobacco juice, and with such moist bed-clothes as our bundles furnished, we did not enjoy our night's rest. Our