Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, November 18, 1858, Image 1
sam'l w.meltoh,editor. 1 Independent Journal: For the Promotion ol' the Political, Social, Agricultural and Commercial Interests of the South. |?2peeabhcm,in advabce
lewis m. GRIST, Proprietor. ) r ' _ I g
VOL. 4. YORKVILLE, S. C., THURSDAY, NOYEMBEE 18, 1858. NO. 46. I
% Chilling Ikon).
THE DSN Of ROBBERS
Soon after the close of the last war bebetween
Great Britiaoand the United States,
Thomas, Stogdon, a tobacco planter living
in the western part of Virginia, started ou a
journey for the purpose of transacting some
private business which required has attention
in one of the north eastern counties of
that State. His route lay across one of the
loftiest spurs of the Blue Ridge, the longest
and most picturesque mountain range in the
South.
As the times were troubled, and the passage
across the mountains considered dangerous
on account of the robbers who infested
them, Mr. Stogdon went not only well
mounted but well armed?a brace of trusty
* - * 1?
horsemen's pistols being carried, according
to the custom of the day, in front of the
rider and attached to the forepart of the saddle.
The third night after leaving home he
stopped at a roadside inn, distant about five
miles from the base of the mountain. On
dismounting, he observed that one of his horse's
shoes had been lost, and directed another
to be put on at the shop attached to the
inn. He rose early the next morning and
resumed his journey, with a view of obtaining
a morning prospect of the mountain and
the scenery of the subjacent country, which
he had heard was very fine.
His horse soon began to limp, and was
quite lame when he reached the base of the
mountain. Supposing that the shoe had
been unskilfully put on at the inn, he stopped
at a blacksmith's shop, near the foot of
the ridge, and had the horse's foot examined
After diligent scrutiny, the workman
said that the lameness was not produced by
the shoe, whioh was properly adjusted and
fastened to the hoof.
At tbe request of Mr. Stogdon, the smith
examined all the shoes, but could find no
onnso for lameness in the fit or make of any
one of them. Hi9 quick eye, however, detooted
a ring of ruffled or lifted hair runuing
around one of the hind legs of the horse, just
above the fetlock. Raising the hair, he observed
that the flesh was bloody and much
swollen. On more careful examination he
disoovered that a small cord of silk had been
tied so tightly around the leg that it had out
into the flesh, producing inflammation of
the part and, doubtless, also the lameness of
the horse.
The discovery at once excited the suspicion
of the workman, who was both honest
and shrewd. Calling the attention of the
traveller to the coid. which he speedily detaohed
from the leg of the horse, he expressed
his apprehension that foul play of some
sort was meditated. A few years before, he
related, a riderless horse had come down
from the mountains and was found to be
lame from a similar cause, a tight silken cord
having cut in almost to the bone of the animal's
leg. The owucr had never been heard
cf, and it was believed that he had been
murdered aud his body concealed in the
mountain.
She smith suggested to Mr. Stogdon the
precaution of examining the priming and
loading of his pistols. On examination the
flints and priming in the pans were found to
he in proper condition, but tho loads had
boon withdrawn from both barrels, and wads
of cloth substituted in their place.
The suspicions of Mr. Stogdon were fully
aroused bv these proofs of a premeditated
design of some sort upon him. He was
a bold, brave man, however, and did not
once think either of chauging his route or
of abandoning his jouruey across the mountains.
Carefully reloading and testing the
reliability of his pistols, he bade adieu to his
honest counsellor, after suitably rewarding
him for his labor and advice, and rode off.
The morning was already far advanced
when he began .to ascend the mountain.?
The road, for several miles, wound along iu
southern side, midway between the base and
the summit. The prospect was grand and
beautiful beyond his most sanguine anticipations.
To the right the mountain sauk down
by degrees, abrupt or regular, to the margin
of the champaign country below, which
stretched out as far as the eye could reach
and was covered with tobacco farms, corn
fields, dwellings, and all the diversified ob
jeots peculiar to a Virginia landscrape. Oc
the left the Blue Ridge rose up like a mightj
arch springing to meet and support the sky
exhibiting, iu rich profusion, all the granc
and most of the beautiful features of moun
tain scenery.
Delighted with the scene, and absorbec
with the emotions which it inspired, Mr
fctogdon rode slowly forward, recalliug onl;
occasionally, and for a moment, the suspi
cions excited by the events of the morning
After running for nearly five miles aloDg thi
side of the mountain, the road, by an abrup
turn, struck towards the summit, through i
1 cl.,r>tor) lln
deep gorge, wtiose jaggeu siuca o.?w- ,.r
wards to great heights on either hand.
Shut out of the prospect of the subjacCD
oountry, and hennued iu by steep acclivities
Mr. Stogdon reverted uiore frequently to tin
mysterious developments which had come ti
light at the blacksmith's shop, and bicami
both alert aod cautious in his movements.?
Arranging his pistols so that they could b
easily withdrawn from the holsters, he urge<
his horse to a quicker pace, as soon as b
entered the gloomy avenue of the narrot
gorge.
He had gone about a mile wheu he saw
some fifty yards ahead of him, a large boulde
or earthy ridge, shooting nearly across th
avenue, and leaving only a space, broaenough
for the road bed, between its edg
and the steep side of the gorge. It was
spot favorable for an attack by surprise, an*
Mr. Stogdon surmised, at once, and if on
was meditated upon him, it would be mad
at that poiut. Checking the pace of his horse
therefore, he rode slowly forward and enter
ed the narrow pass. lie had scarcely reached
the middle of the defile, which was about
twenty yards in length, when two men rushed
from behind the farther side of the boulder
into the road aod stood, with levelled guns,
] only a few yards distant from Mr. Stogdon.
; His horse, frightened at the sudden appear;
ancc of the men, whose blackened faces and
j shaggy clothes made then look hideous
; enough to startle both rider and steed, shied
i aud refused to go forward.
_l The robbers advanced and demanded, as
they approached, the purse and the valuables
of the traveller, promising to spare his life,
if he would surrender them without noise or
resistance. Without making any reply, Mr.
Stogdon quickly drew forth a pistol from the
holster. A derisive smile passed over the
faces of his assailaots at eight of the weapon.
It was levelled and fired at the nearest robber,
who fell dead upon the spot. The other,
startled at the report, and terrified by the
fall of his companion, instead of firing his
j gun dropped it and fled in the direction from
j which he had come.
Before Mr. Stogdon could draw and prej
senthis other pistol, the robber had turned
| the corner of the boulder and was out of sight.
I Urging his horse forward with some difficulty,
for the dead body of the robber lay in the
road, and the animal could scarcely be made
j to pass it, he discovered ajateral gorge enj
teriug, from behind the boulder, the one
; along which the highway ran. Hoping to
J overtake the escaped robber, he entered this
gorge and rode some distance along its rocky
bottom. The scene was wild and dreary,
presenting whatever is grand and impressive
in a mountain solitude. The deep basin
of the gorge, covered with rock and tangled
undergrowth, and shaded almost to
gloom by the dense, overhanging forest,
seemed a fit retreat for marauding bands. It
required no common nerve to penetrate alone
into its recesses in pursuit of a robber. But
the blood of the traveller was up, and he
little heeded the risk he was ruouing.
As he could neither see Dor hear anything
-- - - %* n. i _
to direct him in the pursuit, Air. aiogaon
checked his horse and remaining motionless
for a short time, sheltered, .by the accidental
screen of a low bushy tree, from observation
in the direction the gorge receded from
the road. The song of the mountain birds
and the low murmur of tiny waterfalls, were
the only sounds he heard. The robber had
vanished, like a shadow, and neither eye nor
ear could tell the direction he had gone.
Having made up his mind to abandon the
pursuit, .Mr. Stogdoo was in the act of turning
his horse's head towards the road, when
he caught, through the branches of the tree
in front of him, the glimpse of a man running
rapidly up the side of the gorge, some
distance further up the defile. As pursuit
on horseback up the steep acclivity was impossible,
he remained in his position and
watched, as well as he could, the movements
of the treating figure, which he had no doubt
was that of the fugitive robber.
Climbing from crag to crag, the robber
i stnnned at length in front of two ledges of
r i
rock which projected from the mountain, a
few feot apart, thus making an entrance or
pass-way into the side of the defile. He
looked earnestly for a moment in the 'direction
he had come, and then, entering between
the rocks, disappeared from the sight
of the traveller.
Convinced that he had discovered the den
of the robbers, Mr. Stogdon at once decided
to return to the blacksmith-shop at the base
of the mountain, and give information to the
neighborhood. Makiug a careful ocular exploration
of the surrounding scenery, and
j fixing in his mind as many objects as he
i could, which might serve to identify the spot
>! where the robber had disappeared, ho turn|
ed his horse's head, and soon reached the
i narrow pass in the main road. The body
i j of the dead robber lay as it fell, with the
; blood puddled around it. Forcing his horse
with difficulty to pass it, he rode with a rapid
[ pace, and soon reached the shop, where he
. found several of the neighboring planters
; and the smith still busy with speculation up[
on the mysterious developemeuts which the
| latter had witnessed in the morning.
Mr. Stogdon related to his eager and woni
dering listeners his adventure in the raoun
tain, the death of one robber and the probai
i ble discovery of the place of retreat of per
> ! haps many more. In a few hours the
! news spread through the neighborhood, and
- j brought together a oompany of forty or fifty
i j men at the shop. It was decided, without
f j a dissenting voice, to ascend tho mountain
, I and storm the den of the robbers. Guns,
I: axes, dogs and conveyances were soon pro !
vided, and the line of march speedily com|
tuenced.
I
j The cavalcade, moving with celerity and
j in silence, soon reached the spot where the
f | dead robber still lay. The black coating
" i being wiped from the face, the body was re
j cognised at once as that of the landlord of
e j the hotel at which Mr. Stogdon had staid the
1 j night before The suspicions of the neigha
borhood, long entertaiued, as to his charac
ter, were now completely confirmed. He
was the confederate of a band of robbers,
t and his hotel wae an outpost where plans were
, concocted und the selected victims disarmed
e | and sent helpless to be robbed aud murdered
o j in the mountain.
e The body was placed upon a baggage cart
" and sent, with proper explanations, in the
e | care of a servant, to the family at the hotel,
d So secretly had his connection with the robe
bers been maintained, that the return of the
v corpse, and the developments which followed,
were the first intimation which his wife and
') children bad of his criminal associations.
r After the brief delay occasioned by the
e examination and removal of the body of the
d robber, the company proceeded, under the
o direction of Mr. Stogdon, along the lateral
a gorge towards the place where the confederd
ate robber had disappeared between the pro6
jeoting ledges of rocks. At a point opposite
e the supposed cave they dismounted, and, se'?
curing their horses among the bushes, began
> climb op tbe steep acclivity. Id a few
! moments arriving by different routes, the ,
men and dogs were all assembled at the de-1
signuted point. The evidences of human ,
inhabitancy were unmistakable. The groud !
immediately in front of the rocks was trodden
and hard. Worn paths branched off in several
directions from the spot. The entrance,
a narrow passage between the two projecting
rocks, ran inwardly, and the avenue, except
for a few feet at the opening, was dark and
entirely impenetrable to the eye. It led
evidently into a cave or subterranean shelter
of some sort, which the company prepared
at once to explore.
Pry branchs of tree and dead undergrowth
were gathered, tied into bundles and lighted
with fire kindled by flint and tinder. With
these for torches, six of the more resolute
men entered the opening between the rocks, j
? !il. il? fkn infortAr fn I
WIUJ I IIU VIl*w Ul VTAftVIUllUg Vlitf lUkviivt kv
which it led. The passage was so narrow
that only two could walk abreast. Two men
in front bore torches, as did the two in the
! rear. The middle couple carried muskets
heavily charged.
As they advanced the passage rapidly widened,
and the roof sprang up to a great
height overhead. They had gone about
twenty paces from the entrance when a blaze
of light, accompanied by the almost simultaI
neous report of flrearms, flashed forth from
j a distant, interior point of the cave. The
! two men in front fell to the earth. Pisi
charging their muskets in the direction of the
flash, the others retreated from the cave,
dragging their fallen companions after them,
one of whom was seriously wounded and the
other entirely dead.
Enraged at the spectacle of blood and
death, the besiegers began more resolutely
the work of assault upon the cave, for such
it was now ascertained to be, and of considerable
dimensions, too. An effort was made
to induce the dogs to enter. The more resolute
advanced a few paces, and then ran
. back in apparent alarm. The majority stood
I at the entrance and barked, but could not
be enticed, by words or blows, to go further.
Another expedient was tried. A large
tree was cut down and riven into bolts of
considerable length and thickness. A double
row of these timbers was placed upright
across the entrance passage, some twenty
feet from the opening, and securely wedged
and braced, so as to form a powerful barricade
or wall. The powder in all the horns
and flasks, except a few rounds reserved in
each, was poured iu a pile ou the ground
near to the the upright timbers. Another
barricude, similar to the inner one, was constructed
in front and close 1o the powder, a
train being first laid from the pile, through
' a notch in the timbers, to the outer edge of
the barricade. A line of dry leaves was
formed, extending froru the powder several
feet ouside the entrance.
The crowd having retired to a safe distance,
or hid behind trees and rocks, the train of
leaves was fired by a man who quickly gained
the shelter of a large tree close by the
cave. Iu a few moments a terrific explosion
fairly shook the mountain and filled the air
with sulphurous vapor. A s tiff breeze, blowing
directly into the mouth of the cave, soon
dissipated the smoke, when it was fouud that
both barricades had been thrown down by
the concussion, but the sides and roof of the
cave remained uuharmed.
Night was now corning on. A detachment
of the men was sent back to the settlement
for provisions and such materials as
would be Deeded in the execution of the next
plan of assault which it was decided to pursue.
The rest remained as a guard over
the now imprisoned robbers. Building a
large fire near the entrance of the cave,
the watched and slept by turns until niorning
At daylight the recruiting party returned,
i bringing more men, provisions for man and
I horse, ?Dd materials for the further prosecu|
tion of the assault upon the cave.
After eating a hasty meal and feeding their
horses, the assailants collected a large quantity
of wood, green and dry, and then, beginning
as far inwardly in the entrance to
the oave as they could venture to go, they,
piled it up in successive layers, interspersing
dried tobacco stalks and leaves, and sulphur
in great abundance, among the wood,
until a small space only was left between the
i top of the pile and the roof of the passage.
! The outer cud of the heap was then set on
fire. A strong wind, still blowing directly
iDto the mouth of the cave, spread the flames
rapidly through the pile, and drove the
smoke, in a densccolumn, into the cave, the
narrow avenue between the wood and the
roof serving as a flue to conduct it to the interior.
No voice or sound came from the cave or,
; if any was uttered, it was lost in the roar of
; the fire, which blazed, and crackled, and
i flamed in the narrow passage until it glowed
| and shot forth sparkles and smoke like the
| crater of a volcano during an eruption. For
j several hours and the fire raged with unabaI
^Inlonno frnch flip] hfiintr r?nnst:intlfl sun
vuu ??vo.. - - ? r- r
plied from the adjacent wood. The smoke,
having lilled the cave, streamed outia dense
! masses and floated off in the direction of"
! the wind to the upper heights of the moun:
tain.
j At length the fire was permitted to burn
| down. A stream of water issuing close by,
from the side of the mountain, furnished the
ready means for cooliDg the rocks and extinguished
the suioulderiog embers. But it
was not until a late hour in the evening that
the smoke had escaped from the cave sufficiently
to permit ao eutrance to be made,
i With lighted torches, and armed with
1 guns and pistols, the crowd crept cautiously
I into the gloomy cavern. The passage which
[ led to it, widening rapidly as they advanced,
: spread out into a spacious room. Into this
< ante-chamber several small lateral fissures or
. i apartments opened. The cave, though pro.
duced by some convulsions of nature, possi
essed the regularity and the proportions almost
of a work of art. The floor, the sides
i and the roof were all of solid rock. The
* torch-light) reddening the smoke, and reMMBI
fleeted feebly from the rocky surface, lit up
the gloom with an obscure radiance, which
increased the hotror of the place. The
crowd, advancing und dispersing with apprehensive
look and cautious steps, looked amid
the smoke and the sullen light, like a phan- J
torn host returning to their covert in the
mountain from the glare of the outer day. I
In the large room, casks", boxes and barrels
were found, filled with meat, flour and
eatables of various kinds. In the lateral
fissures, beds, guns, ammunition, cooking
utensils, table furniture, and, in short, almost
everything necessary to the rude comfort
and convenience of a subterranean dwelling,
were arranged insomethinglikehou.sei
u -1 fri.1 i j j:
noid Oraer. me ucau uuuies ui live muu,
of an old womaD, and of a bay, apparently
Bfteen or sixteen years old, lay scattered
through the several apartments, livid and
discolored in the face, and mo9t hideou9 to
look upon.
After making a full exploration of the
cave, and removing from it every article of
value, the crowd withdrew, leaving the bodies
of the robbers as they found them, unburied
and unrecognised. The cave which had
been their abode thus became their sepulchre
and to this day the tradition of the assault
upon the robbers den lives in the memory
of the people in that section of the Old Dominion.
Ipstellaiwros Urabing.
From the Eagle and Enquirer.
HOME.
I'll think of home, my own sweet home,
Although I am far away :
I'll think of the land from which T roamed,
One cold December day.
1 hear the songs of the warbling birds
As they warble amidst the bowers,
And compnre their notes to those of home,
Amidst my own sunny flowers.
I think I see the faces and hear the voices
Of those I love and revere.
It is my parents at home and my sweet little sisters,
Whom in my heart I'll ever hold dear.
Then raise your voices, ye gentle Muses.
And sing to the four winds of the earth?
Sing a requiem to the graves of those I love,
And to the land which gave me birth.
A MATTOF LUCK.
In connection with some comments on the
recent illness of Gen. Cass, the Washington
correspondent of the New York Times gives
the following pretty faithful picture of the
Veterad Secretary of State :
General Cassis a wonderful old man. He j
bno nnt onrvivpd bis immnrtalitv. He WAS I
born a soldier, became a pedagogue, and
graduated as a backwoodsman. Taking to
politics as his natural element, and to office
as his inheritance, he emerged from frontier
life as a Cabinet Minister, and in due course
of progression bccams a courtier. Through
his varied experiences, caution, timidity, the
middle safe course, have been guiding stars
to General Cass and his chosen pathway.?
Adulation has always been a stepping stone
to his nmbition. While quietly voyaging
about Northern lakes, making treaties with
Indians, Gen. Cass was writing private letters
to Mr. Clay, congratulating him on his
vindication from Mr. Buchanan's charges of
corruption. I hawe been told by his companion
in these excursions among the dreary
vrilds of the Northwest that never did a word
escape him in those exciting times indicating
a preference for a man or party. In private
he congratulated Mr. Clay, because Mr.
Clay had the actual power; but he knew
that Jackson was the man for the coming
time, and reserved himself.
True to the in medio tutissim?x, when
Jackson removed the deposits, Secretary Cass
paced the floor of his private office in an
nnnnv nf rlnilht. The thunders of the OD
? ?
position and the terrors of impeachment
were above and before him. He dared say
neither yea nor nay. Jackson knew his man
and sent Gen. Cass to Paris. Ilere was another
iustance of his unfailing luck and his
tact. Jackson would have crushed to powc:er
another man who had hesitated in that
emergency, but !be only introduced Gen.
Cass to Louis Phillippe.
His whole life has becD luck. When he
left Detroit to take the War Department, he
gave orders to his agent to sell a large tract
of land adjoining the town. He was to sell
it for 830,000. After some time the agent
wrote that he had been offered 833,000.?
Gen. Cass instantly replied, "Don't sell till
further orders." He would have quickly
taken his own fixed price, but being offered
more, be must look further. The propertyis
now covered by the best part of a flour- j
ishing city and is worth 83,000,000. Gen. j
; Cass is a millionaire. While Governor and j
Indian Agent, enjoying an excellent salury, \
j he so managed his accounts as to strike a j
I balance against the Government of 807,000. J
I He patiently waited nearly two years, and
one fine morning during the halcyon days of
John Tyler, walked up to the Treasury presented
his claim, and brought away the 807,000
in gold.
Ctr.^;nnQ a/ihnl?irlv ho writPRwell. and
kJtUUlUUO uuu uvmv.wiijj mm\j . >??
has a taste for classical and elegant things.
In Paris, he turned diplomacy over to his j
secretaries, and wrote a book of elaborate :
eulogy on Louis Phillippe, which is really a
very fine biographical memoir. To further, j
employ his leisure, he took possession of the
flag ship of the American squadron in the
Mediterranean, ard with his family explored
the blue JEgean, and meditated amidst the
ruins of Greece, Italy aud Ionia. He exploded,
by a protest, the Quintuple Treaty
and returned homo to quarrel with Mr.
Webster, invent non-intervention, and run
for the Presidency.
In this last enterprise Gen. Cass' luck
failed him for the first time in his life. His
star paled before the meteor of Buena Vista.
Yet it was characteristic of the canny thrift
of this veteran politician, that pending the
contest with General Taylor, he had appointed
a locum tcnens to keep his seat in the Senate
warm, and when he wished to retuu to
it he had this old conveniency appointed to
the care of aLight-Houseon Lake Michigan, j
Obedient to his will, the Michigan Legisla- j
ture promptly returned him to his old posi- j
tion.
Personally, Gen. Cass is an exemplary
man of the world. He is very rich, and is
careful of his own. No man looks better
after his own household. Politically, he is
an infidel. lie believes nothing; that is, he
has no convictions. In his lukewarm, lan- i
guid way, he doubless regards the Democrat- i
ic party as the best able to govern the country,
but he adheres to it only hecause he (
feels it to be safe and profitable to belong to
the strong side.
A MANUFACTURING VILLAGE.
People who imagine that a single, isolated
manufactory, here and there, is the best that
Ln rtn n ?%VAiIiinn 1 n tlin t lino OTTrtn flt
me k.'uuui van piuuuvc iu kuai 11 utj v?vu c.v ;
its best, will be agreeably disappointed to i
hear of an entire village in Alubama devoted
exclusively to manufactures. It is called
Scottsville, and is situated in the Northwestern
portion of Bibb county, uear the |
river Cahawba, between Centreville and Tus- i
caloosa, and to the South-eaat of the latter |
place some fifty or sixty miles. <
The editor of the Selma (Ala.) Sentinel i
has been traveling, recently, in the neighbor- !
hood of Scottsville, and from what he heard <
of it, was induced to visit what he calls this ;
thriving manufacturing little village. j
Scottsville was originally known as the
Tuscaloosa Manufacturing Company. It
was incorporated by the Alabama Legislature <
in 1837, with a capital stock of $36,000, i
which sum was quickly subscribed by a number
of capitalists in Tuscaloosa. i
In May, 1837, the mills got to work, ma- i
king coarse cotton cloths, but for some years
they made no money. The company and
the locality soon changed names and man- i
agement; the latter coming into the hands :
of Mr. Scott as principal owner and director i
and the place itself took the name of Scottsville.
lie immediately went to work making
improvements and additions to the buildings
and machinery, and the mills soon paid dividends.
The first $2,200, realized in 1841
was expended in a family of negroes to work
in the factory. This family has so increased
that the company values them at 810,000,
and most of them are now working in the
factory, and are very useful. The company
have made several purchases of negroes with
the profits of the factory, and negro labor is
much employed by them.
The principal mill is a large brick building
of three stories, with two wings, filled
with the best machinery and employing over
one hundred hands, of whom three-fourths
are females. A large overshot wheel, driven
by water, is the principal motor of the machinery.
There are about 25,000 spindles
and 50 looms at work.
Wool and cotton are both spun. The consumption
of cotton averages 35;000 pounds
per month, and 61,000 worth of yarns in
the same time, together with a large quantity
of linseys and a superior article of cotton
sewing thread.
In 1841, the sum of 640,000 capital stock
had been paid in. Every year since then a
dividend of ten per cent, has been declared,
which has been laid out in buying negroes,
land, &c., adding to the buildings and machinery
in the village, until the capital stock
has increased to 6117,000, of which 825,000
is in negroes and about 810,000 in goods
in the company's store.
The company owns 3,000 acres of land and
all the buildings on the place, which consist
of the factory, a large hotel, the store,
blacksmith, carpenter, whcelright, and boot
and shoe shops, a saw mill, grist mill, large ,
flouring mill, a church and a large number
of cottages. No liquor is permitted in the
village, and the company will not sell an inch
of its land to any one. Its stock has long
been over par, and its dividend this year
will be at least twelve per cent. j
So much for enterprise, governed by steadiness,
perseverance and skill.
New Orleans Picayune. |
The Oldest Bible on the Continent.
?The articles which have lately appeared
from time to time in the Free Press, in regard
to old Bibles, have had the effect to
bring to our notice one of the rareet and
most valuable specimens of biblical literature
in the world. This is a volume of six
hundred pages, containing the whole Bible
in the Latin language. It belongs to the
Ilev. Dr. Puffield, of this city. The book
is made entirely of vellum, and the printing
is all done by hand with pen and ink. Every
letter is perfect in its shape, and cannot
be distinguished, by any imperfections in
form, from the printed letters of the present
day. The shape of the letter is, of course,
different from those now in use, but in no
other case can they bo distinguished from
printed matter. The immense amount of
???? Kfl rtnnrtn!rnrl fVin foot fViof
1UUUI Uiaj uc VUUVWiTtu IIVUI iuv uiui
there are two columns on each page, each of
which lacks only about six letters of being
as wide as the columns of this paper. They
will average sixty lines to the column. The
columns numbering one thousand two hundred,
we have about seventy thousand lines
in the whole book. Nothing short of a lifetime
could accomplish such a work.
The date of this book is A. D. 930. It
was, consequently, made five hundred and
sixty years before printing was invented, and
is nine hundred and twenty-eight years old.
There is probably nothing on this continent,
in the shape of a book, equal to it in age.?
The vellum upon which it is printed is of
the finest kind, and is made of the skin of
young lambs and kids, dressed and rubbed
with pumice stone until it is very thin. It
is somewhat thicker than common paper, being
a medium between that and the drawing
paper now in use. The veins in the skio
arc distinctly visible in many places. A
pencil mark was drawn by the operator to
guide the construction of each line. Many
pages have these lines visible on the whole
surface, no effort having been made to rub
them oat. Two liaee ruaoiog up tad dowa
divide the columns with mathematical accuracy.
At the beginning of each chapter,
highly colored ornamental letters are placed.
These arc the only marks of the division of
chapters. There are no sub-divisions into
verses, the chapters running through in one
paragraph to the end, and no descriptive
headings.
This invaluable relic was presented to Dr.
Duffield, by Lewis Cass, jr., our minister
resident at Rome He procured it of a Greek
monk, who brought it from the Greek convent
of St. Catharine, at the foot of Mount
Siuai. Mr. Cass befriended this monk, who
was in trouble ; and he, in return, presented
him with the volume which we have described.
According to his story, it is the
work of one of the ancient monk scribes in
the convent above named. When it became
L?nnn?n fViof Mi? Pnoo nroo tnoHi nr? trifll if
q uu n i j tnai 4 \jura n uo pui ktii^ r* ivm ivj
and that it was going out of the country,
the round sura of three thousand dollars
was offered him by the monks of the city of
Rome. This was of course refused, for the
pleasure of placing so inestimable a relic in
the hands of one who can appreciate its value
so well as our learned divine, Dr. Duffield.
At the time of the late fire in the
doctor's bouse, this book was thrown into
the street amoDg others, and came very near
being lost. It was picked up on the sidewalk
by one who recognised it as one of Dr.
Duffield's most valuable relics, and preserved
it.?Detroit Free Press.
The Newspaper, the Representative
of the Age.?The Hon. Caleb Cushing,
in spcakiog of the progress of the age, says:
Take, as exhibitor and, at the same time,
as illustrative of this fact, that familiar thing,
a newspaper, a rare luxury of the rich once,
now the necessary of universal daily life, of
the mental life of men, as much as food and
drink are of the physical life. How various
are the contents of that diurnal sheet; how
extensive is the knowledge it imparts ; how
vast is the field of its action and its usefulness
! Whatever wants there may be in the
human breast, it shows how they may be sat
isfied. If it be, as Cowper says, "the herald
of a noisy world," with
"Mews from all nations lumberiDg at his back,"
so it is with the silent monitor of the erring,
the solace of the sorrowful, the companion
of the solitary, and the messenger to all of
thoughts and of reflection. When Sbakspeare,
with not unlaudablc estimation of
his own art, said of playing?"Whose end,
both at first and now, was, and is, to hold
as 'twere*the mirror up to nature, to show
virtue her own features, scorn his own image,
and the very age and body of time its form
and pressuro"?how felicitously, though unknowingly,
did he not represent the uses of
the newspaper press at the present timo!?
Faults it has in ample nnmber and degree,
undoubtedly; for whatever men do, in their
highest as well as their lowest works, testifies
to the imperfections of our nature; and
the press, with its very short-comings, is, indeed,
the mirror of each passing day, and,
of course, with its wisdom and its folly, its
virtues and its vices, and all there is of
nnrl onll nf Or?m 11 vA an/1 All
UICUUCU guuu uuu Wll^ \J4 V? UiU(.w muvi
riman, in the waysof the world. And how
the steam engine and' the rail car, and the
ocean ship, aod the telegraph, conspire to
accumulate and to diffuse the mass of intelligence
in that newspaper sheet! *Let ns
add, as another sign of the advanced state
of our society, that the knowledge and scholarship
manifested in the columns of the
higher class of the newspaper press, whether
in Europe or America, are equal now to
the famous literary authorship of other times.
What a reputation was attained by Junius
on account of a few newspaper articles in
the London Public Advertiser! And yet
many a leading column of the better journals
of Eugland, Fra.ice, Germany, Spain,
Italy, and the United States, comes before
us day by day, and passes off without our
special note, and with no individual fame to
its author, though it be higher in composition
and purer in spirit tban is anything of
the hand of Junius.
Singular Metamorphosis and Curious
Results.?About four years since,
says a California paper, a man from the
Eastern States came to this country to engage
in mining. He went up to Tuolumne,
and commenced laboring in a claim on
Wood's Creek. In a short time his hair
(which was of a light brown, or auburn color),
commenced to fall off, and soon there
was not a solitary hair to be discovered on
any part of his body! He was as guiltless
of hirsute covering as a marble statue. Singular
to relate, the man's general health was
good during the time of this peeliog. But
what is more remarkable, the general physical
appearance of the man began to change
rapidly. He was originally "long, lank and
lean but now he began to assume Falstaf
fian proportions. Although a large boned
person when he came to this country, he
only weighed about 1G0 pounds, but in seven
months after bis arrival at the mines, his
weight was upwards of 300 pounds. All
these things must have an end, and so did
our hero's increase in size come to a stop.?
Then it was that his hair began to grow.?
But now, strange to say, his hirsute appendages,
instead of auburn color, were coal
black. Instead of sandy whiskers he had
whiskers as black as jet, and so on.
Our readers will naturally think the individual,
after undergoing all these transformations,
had grown out of the recollection of
his friends. And so he had, as the sequel
will show. Now the hero of this transformation,
when he left his house, left behind
a wife whom he loved as the apple of his
eye. After residing here about three years,
be sent for her. She came full of love and
affection to meet herlong absent lord. When
the steamer arrived a very large man, with
very black hair and whiskers, met her and
claimed her as bis wife. She repudiated
him. He remonstrated and explained. She
would not hear to him, for she had heard of
the wickedness of this country, and she was
oauiiou*. She endeavored foe two noatbs
to find her husband that bad left her, then
gave him up for dead, and returned to her
home sorrowful and broken hearted. The
metamorphosed husband is still here, and
| bitterly does he curse the change in his fortunes
which so altered the complexion of his
personal affairs that even his own wife cannot
recognize him. At present there is not <
the least prospeet of his losing his superabundant
flesh, or of his hair changing color.
DON'T BE DISCOURAGED.
Don't be discouraged, if in the outset of
life things do not go smoothly. It seldom
happens that the hopes we cherish of the
future are realized. The path of life, in the
prospect, appears smooth and legel enough ;
but when we come to travel it, we find it up
hill, and generally rough. The journey is
a laborious one, and whether poor or wealthy,
high or low, we shall find it so to our disappointment,
if we have built upon any other
__1 1.a5 m_ J _1 L.a
caicuiauon. ao euuure cueenuuy wuui n
mast be, and to elbow our way as easily as $3
we can, hoping for little, yet striving for B
much, is perhaps the trac plan. Bat don't
be discouraged, if occasionally yoa slip by H
the way, and your neighbors tread over you nj
a little; in other words, don't let a failure ffl
or two dishearten you. Accidents happen, n
miscalculations will sometimes be made,
things will often turn out differently from
our expectations, and we may be the sufferere.
It is worth while to remember that
fortune is like the skies in April, sometimes
cloudy, and sometimes clear and favorable;
and it would be folly to despair of again
seeinp the sun, because to-day is stormy; so
it is equally unwise to sink into despondency
when fortune frowns, since, in the common
course of things, she may be surely expected
to smile again. And again; don't be
discouraged if you are deceived in the people
of the world. It often happens thatmen
wear borrowed characters, as well as borrowed
clothes, and sometimes those who have
long stood fair before the world are rotten to
the core. From sources such as these, you
may be most unexpectedly deceived, and
you will naturally feel sore under such dc
cepttons?but to these you must become
used. If you fare as most pcoplo do, they
will loose their novelty before you grow grey,
and you will learn to trust men cautiousty,
and examine their character closely, before
you allow them opportunities to injure you.
Don't be discouraged under any. circumstances;
go steadily forward. Katbbr consult
your own conscience than theopini<mof men,
though the last is not to be disregard.?
Be industrious?be frugal?be bonest-^Jeal
in perfect kindness with all who come ha,
your way, exercising a neighborly and obli-\
ging spirit in your whole intercourse; and
if you do not prosper as rapidly as your
neighbors, depend upon it yon will be as
happy.?Shelhyvilk Expositor.
The Turn of Life.?From forty to sixty,
a man who has properly regulated himself
may be considered as in the prime of life.?
His matured strength of constitution renders
, him almost impervious to the attacks of disease,
and experience has given his judgment
the soundness of almost infallibility. His
mind is resolute, firm, and equal; all his
functions aro in the highest order; he assumes
the mastery over business; builds up
a competence to the foundation he has laid
in early manhood, and passes through a period
of life attended by many gratifications.
Having gone a year or two past sixty, be
arrives at a critical period in the road of ex
isience ; me river or aeatn nows Between
him, and he remains at a stand still. But
athwart this river is a viaduct called "The
Turn of Life," which, if crossed in safety,
leads to the valley of "old age," round
which the river winds and then flows beyond
without boat or causeway to effect its passage.
The bridge is, however, constructed
of fragile materials, and it depends upon
how it is trodden, whether it bend or break.
Gout, apoplexy, and other bad characters
also are in the vicinity to waylay the traveller,
and thrust him from the pass; but let
him gird up his loins and provide himself
, with a fitting staff, he may trudge on in safety
with perfect composure. To quit metaphor,
"The Turn of Life," is a turn either
, into a prolonged walk or into the grave.?
The system and powers having reached their
utmost expansion, now begin either to close
, like flowers at sunset, or break down at once.
One injudicious stimulant?a single- fatal
excitement, may force it beyond its strength
?whilst a carefal supply of props, and the
withdrawal of all that tends to force a plant,
will sustain it in beauty and in vigor until
night has entirely set.?Science of Life.
Folly oe Atheism.?I had rather believe
all the fables in the Legend, the Talmud
and the Koran, than that this universal
frame is without a mind. God never
wrought miracles to convince Atheists, because
His ordinary works are sufficient to
convince them. It is true that a little philosophy
inclineth men's minds to Atheism;
but depth in philosophy bringeth them back
to religion; for while the mind of man
looketh upon second causesscattered, it may
sometimes rest on them, and go no further;
: but when it bcholdeth the chain of them
confederate and linked together, it must
needs fly to Providence and Deity.
Lord Bacon.
The Toad ?Like all the reptiles the toad
1 -Lf_ U..4 ihn oflct nrtTTnlnrvn in nor_
cnauges us skid, uui iucu?o?wm.v.v/^u ?d mier
foand, although those of the serpents are
common enough. The reason why it is
not found is this: the toad is an economical
animal, and does not choose that so mnch
substance be wasted. So after the skin has
been entirely thrown off, the toad takes its
old coat in its two fore-paws, and dexterously
rolls it, and pats it, and twists it, until
the coat has been formed into a ball. It is
then taken between the paws, pushed into
the month, and swallowed at a gulph like a
big piil. The tadpole does the same.
9ST The surest way to hit a woman's heart
i is to take aim kneeling.