The Sumter banner. [volume] (Sumterville, S.C.) 1846-1855, 1851-04-09

an argument at. a glance. He
sprang, with o lions instinct, at the
heart Of his victim. Those who saw
him in his old age will retain, to the
hour of their death, the impression
made by that eagle eye, that gran.
ite forehead, that rampant of iron.
gray hair, that stern and suggestive
countenance; and such he was,
| scarcely more mobile then in his early
manhood. Even at that day he
struck the spectator as some statue
viyifed into temporary life, some old
Roman, in the guise Of youth, come
| back to Garth, but still! retaining his
incorruptible virtue, his contempt of
petty arts, and bis unselfish devotion
to whatever he considered right
He sacrificed his existence, at last. in
behalf of his native commonwealth.
Men will differ, for generations to
come, as to his craftsmanship on
more than one occasion, but none will
impeach his motives, or question Ills
patriotism as Carolinian. In tho
Pantheon of American history his
shadow will projectitsclf, broad and
deep, far into the gloom Of coming
ages.
He (Randolph) had been, indeed,
misanthrope from his youth; and
misanthropy is the parent of mad
ness. In boyhood, when others of
his age were engaged in noisy sports,
he would steal away to the solitary
pastime of angling, or seclude him.
self in closet where lie kept his
books. He was reserved, naughty,
fond ofreycry. Ashe grew up, the
few ho loved were removed from him
one by ono. First his mother died,
thenIt the eldero Of his two brothers.
then the other. When he made
friends, death too frequently cut
them down prematurely, as in the
SaEe syresl Z IS sis
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the world. Tie iled 10 Is9Ssss,oalse. 4
and shutting himself up IN his forest
hermitage, poured out, in letters to
his single confidential friend, the gall
and wormwood Of his soul. There
was no hope, he declared, insocicty
any longer. Men were sogues, they
were hypocritcs, they were Yahoos.
They were all watching for an oppor-
tunity to cheat, plunder, or betray
him. He was done with them foreY.
er. Meantime he could not be hap.
py. His heart gnawed itself for want
of other food, and his health broke
down. Already the shadow of ap-
proaching madness began to throw it's
gloom O. him Mt times. Life, in
his own words, was a curse, from
which he would willingly escape, if
he knew where to fly. He declared
he lived in such cold and heartlcss
intercourse with his fellows, among
them, but not Of them, that Robin
son Crusoe, in his worst solitude, had
been in bliss comparatively. He
drew parallels between himself and
Cowper, anatomizing, with the fascin-
alton of horror, his own monomania.
We cannot perusc the letters at this
period of his life without shuddering
at the agonies of wo which must
have racked his soul, MS the ghastly
spectres of insanity, each more dis
tinct than its predecessor, passed in
awful procession around his midnight
couch.
For the taint Of madness, which
ran in his line, was beginning to
work in his blood; and he knew it.
This was the tcrribl secret which he
carried, through whclc life, in his
bosom, and whose cravings he vain
ly tried to conceal. His extreme
irritability, his slceplessncss, his sus-
picious character, and his thousand
eccentricitics, all find an clucidation
in this tendency to insanity, and can
be explained satisfactorily in no 9TH
er way. He would quarrel with his
best friends without an adequate mo-
tive. An incidental remark Of his
step-father, that Randolph would
naturally make his hall-brothcrs his
heirs, led to an explosion of passion
md TO the destruction of friendship
Of years. He treated with contu-
melious indignity the physician who
had long been his companion and
counsellor, and then, in a frenzy of
rcmorsc, abascd himself to the earth
before his friend. His faithful body
servants ho degraded to field labor.
in aparoxysm of fury, to recall them,
in few days, to his couch of suffer
ing, with tears. A favolite slave,
who had sold a paltry measure of
meal. was turned from comfortable