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9 f. - - - , ???I ??? - 1- ^ ^=====^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ i ^ '"' " "~^ .. ' - m ' * lbwib*'aSxsTN^?wr } An Independent Journal: 'For the Promotion of the Political, Social, Agricultural and Commercial Interests of the South. j?apbbawn VOL. 5. ?- YORKVILLE, S. O., THTJE8DAY, OCTOBER 6,1859.' / 3STO. 40. "(Killit iSj^jjtarf's" WRITTEN FOR THE Y "WHO IS 1 * , c THE DARK MYSTERY OF BY WILLIE "] AUTHOR OF "I.UUL WOODSWORTH," "WINN SUN," "OLD HEADS AND CHAPTER Till. <1 have sent a message to Mr. Van dry, so that he may know that you are here,' said Mrs. Milton, the morning after Jim's arrival at Monctown. 'He will be delighted, 1 know, ' ? -i J t-:? i;? to welcome toe crave iaa woo eaveu mo mtle daughter from a watery grave.' (Indeed he will,' chimed in Elouise; (for Bosa told me, that her papa would give anything he had, to do Jim a service.' (I have no doubt, my love, that Mr. Geo. Vandry is sincere in what he says,' said Mrs. Milton ; affectionately parting the curls from the fair forehead of her beautiful daughter,. "* 'How nice it would be, mamma, if Julius was here; we could all go to see Kosa, and have such a nice, pleasant ride, in her little carriage.' Jim, who had scarcely uttered a word since breakfast, turned to Elouise upon hearing the name of Julius, and asked if be ever came to see her. (Julias lives here,' said Elouise. (I don't believe his name is Julius at all!' said Jim, striking his feet together. (Why do you doubt it, Jim V asked Mrs. Milton. ' ? ('Cause I don't believe it,' said Jim. ^ (Why, Jim,' said'Elouise, (papa says, that when he found Julius, be saw some papers in the basket, and that one of them had the name of Julius D'Vilton on it.' (0, yes replied Jim, (I heard all about that; but I don't believe a word of it.' (But father showed us tl\p papers,' said Elouise. 'v*~- >? wi<nte fchflm himself.' said k/U uw n*v?v / Jim;'but if he didn't, I know the fellotr yoa call Jolias ain't no son of my father.' ?I didn't say be was,' said Elouise. 'Ain't Mr. Edward D'Vilton my father? ?dont the deserted hoase belong to him ? ?and aio't he coming to see me too? 'Mr. D'Vilton is Julias' father, Jim,' said the girl. Then my name mast be Jalias, too,'persisted the boy. 'For shame, Jim !' said Eloaise.'Me ashamed!?what for ?' said Jim angrily. To tell stories,' said the girl. 'Julias never tells stories; and he wouldn't play with boys that do so, either.' 'I didn't tell you any stories,' said Jim j 'and you needn't be afraid of me playing with Julias.' 'He wouldn't speak to sach a ragged, cross boy like you,' said Elouise sharply. . 'My daughter !' said Mrs. Milton reprovingly, ?how can you speak so sharply to the poor boy ?' 'Well, mother, be shant talk so about dear Julias?' 'Silence!' said Mrs. Milton sternly. Elouise sulked and pouted awhile; then 'made a face' at Jim, and left the room. 'You should not have said that you would not play with Julius,' said Mrs. Milton, placing her hand apon the shoalder of Jim, who stood beside the window, pale with mortification and passion. 'I'm going back to Pete and Bessie,' said Jim, placing bis bat upon bis bead, and moving towards the door. 'Do you not wish to see Rosa before you go?' asked Mrs. Milton kindly. At mention of Rosa's name the proud boy's eyes brightened; and, taking his hat from his head, he resumed his seat at the window, saying: 'Rosa wouldn't call me a ragged, cross boy." 'Mr. Van dry will be here shortly,' said Mrs. Milton; 'and you can amuse yourself by looking over these drawings while you are waiting for him.' Jim took the portfolio from Mrs. Milton's bauds in silence; and, bad examined but a few of the drawings, when he managed, by dint of preseverance to spell out the name of Julius D'Vilton, upon the margin of one of the rough sketches. 'Did Julius do this?' he asked; holding up the sketch of a windmill. 'Yes, my child,' replied Mrs. Milton; 'all of them are his drawings.' The words had scarcely escaped the lady's lips, when the impetuous boy hastily threw the portfolio aside, and walked out upon the piazza. 'Strange,' said Mrs. Milton, 'that the boy has taken such a dislike for Julius !' Then looking out upon the piazza, and observing Jim restlessly pacing to and fro, she continn i i l A I f U ~ tied : 'i>iay troa neip tne poor uuy ;?u? he alone can protect the right.' A loud rap at the front door called Mrs. Milton's attention to that quarter; and the next moment Mr. Vandry burst into the room, and stood before the lady. 'Where is the noble lad V he asked, looking hastily around the room. Jim, hearing the question, entered the room, but immediately started back upon observing George Vandry. George Vandry, with an expression of mingled shame, mortiheation, and surprise, stood speechless in the centre of the room; then, going up to Jim, and placing his hand upon the shoulder, he asked : 'Are you not the little match-vender whom I met upon the street some weeks ago?' 'I'm the boy that you abused and whipped ' Original Jtonbeltfo.] ORKYILLE ENQUIRER. . "HE HEIR?" 1 ?R, ' * , THE DESERTED HOUSE. LIGHTHEAKT, HE AND WILLIE," "THE CHILDREN OF THE i TOONQ HEARTS," AC., AC. I 'My brave, noble lad !' exclaimed Yandry, 'how shall I sufficiently repay you for~.' i 'I wouldn't take a penny from yon!' said Jim. -T* - ? r T:_ > :J il.? . 'UO not luru away iruui luu uiuj, sam uic gentleman much affected. I regret, deep- j ly regret, -that I allowed my anger to get the better of me the last time I saw yon.? i Little did I think, when I so cruelly caned you, that I was inflicting pain upon.one to whom I should soon owe the life of my- beloved Rosa.' ' Your Rosa ?' said Jim, starting. 'Is Ro: i sa your little sister ?' 'She is my child?my only, darling child 1' i said Vandry pained to the heart at Jim's cold and bitter conduct Jim passed his hand quickly across his eyes, as he said, with a deep sigh : * 'Poor | Rosa!' . . % i 'Do you think, my boy, that she is to be pitied because I am her father?' asked Mr. i Yandry; not understanding the meaning of the boy's exclamation. 'Rosa will suffer a heap one of these days',' said the boy, heaving a deep sigh. 'Vandry and Mrs. Milton both started ; and the former said: 'What makes you think so, Jim V \ ''Cause old Loo told me so,' replied the boy. ? 'Old Loo!' said Yandry, looking upon the sad countenance of Jim; 'how should she know aught about my child's future?' , 'Old Loo knows everything,' said Jim. 'I very much fear, Mr. Vandry,' said < Mrs. Milton,' that this singular woman has i been imposing upon the inexperience and 1 credulity of the poor boy.' ' 'Very likely,'said Vandry; then turning ( to Jim, be oontinued : 'You willaccompa- I ny me home, I presume.' I 'No, sir !' said Jim. 'But why not, my lad?' asked Vandry. t e ? ?i.? i '1 aiu t lorgot iuul vuimug jcl, icjmvu j the boy;' and that ain't all neither; for j Loo told me to be very careftil what com- | pany I kept.' 'Old Loo again I' said Vandry. ? 'Don't you rfaut to see Rosa !' asked Mrs. i Miltom ?0, yes ma'm !' replied the boy, bursting i into tears, and burying his face in his cap. ] 'You shall see her, Jim,' said Vandry ; going to the boy and placing his hand npon his head. 'The dear child speaks of you from morning to night, and begs me to find ; out where you live. I have made every possible effort to find you; have placarded the ] town from one end to the other; have adver- j tised, and offered large rewards for any information concerning you. I told Rosa, ; when I received the letter awhile ago, that | I now knew where yoa were; and have just left her with the promise of bringing you ( home with me.' I 'And does Rosa talk about a poor boy ? like me !' Baid Jim. She does so continually. Will you not go home with me and see her ?' <1 wa-want to see Rosa, replied Jim ; 'but L don't care about going to your bouse.' 'Why, Jim, this obstinacy is quite unbecoming to a boy like yourself,' said Mrs. Milton. 'Take my advice, and go with the i gentleman.' 'Come with me, Jim,' said Yandry, coaxingly; 'and you shall be dressed in a nice suit of clothes; have a beautiful pony; a snug little bed room all for yourself, -and as much money as a little boy of your age cao possibly desire. I will have you handsomely educated, too; so that when you become a man, you will be beloved and respected by everybody, as Mr. Milton is.' 01r. Milton is a bad man; for Loo told me so,' said Jim. Mrs. Milton colored to the temples; while George Yandry lifted both hands in speechless astonishment and wonder. 'Old Loo is a very wicked woman, Jim, | or she would not have spoken so falsely of good Mr. Milton,' said Yandry. 'Good people don't tell stories,' said Jim. 'You do not mean to say that Mr. Milton does so!' said Van dry. 'He told me a big one, anyhow,' persisted tbe boy. , 'Tola you!?why when and where did you ever see him?' asked Vandry. ? 'Are you not going to see Rosa?' asked { Mrs. Milton; anxious to turn the conversa- ( tion. 'No ma'm !' said Jim firmly. i 'Well, Jim/ said George Vandry, with a J disappointed and mortified air; 'if you are 1 determined to fie stubborn about tbe matter, 1 of course I cannot force you to come home i with me. I tbaok you?bless you for sa- ] viDg my dear child's life. My hand, my i home and my fortune are at your service.? I Come to me whenever you need a friend; ap- ; ply to me whenever you are in want of money. You will fiod me at number eighteen, ! Prince William street.' So sayine, the grateful father dashed a tear from bis cheek and < turned away. 'I-I-wish?.' ; 'What do you wish ?' asked Mr. Vandry turning towards to boy. i 'I wish?never mind, sir.' I 'My dear boy/ said Vandry taking Jim's hand in both of his; 'name your wish! Be 'I want a piece?just a little piece?of Rosa's h-b? 'Out with it!' said Vandry. 'Rosa's hair/ 'You shall have it!' said Vandly, much iffected. 'Will you give her this ??its all I've got.' And the poor boy placed in Vandry's hand the crown, which Loo had given him for his matches. 'Rosa doesnot want any money Jim; nor can I consent to deprive you of the little whioh you have,' said Vandry. Would she take this?' asked Jim; hand> ding a military button to Yandry. Certainly, 6be will,' said Yandry, placing the useless trifle in his pocket; 'hot I amafraid that Rosa will weep very much when she sees me returning without you.' Jim hesitated; twisted and turned his cap into every imaginable shape; then, pulled at his neck-tie, and bit his nails. ?-?f.i ot ?i?j j 1W 111 you COtne whq me I ua&eu rauuijr, placing bis band upon tbe door handle as if about to leave. 'No!' said Jim, emphatically; 'I'm going to see Bessie and Pete.' Have you been living at tbe Red Lion [nn ?' asked Vandry. 'Yes, air,' replied Jim. George Vandry whispered to Mrs. Milton, and then hastily left the bonse. ?I am sorry, Jim, to see that yonr disposition is so different from what I thought it was. Mr. Vandry, I am confident, has beeD hurt by your obstinacy,' said Mrs. Milton. Jim did not reply; but, taking his cap from the table, he deliberately walked out of the house. 'Stop a little,' said Mrs. Milton ; and listen to me a moment.' 'I want to go home, ma'm;' replied Jim. 'And will you promise to me, that you will-say nothing about your father and Mr. Milton, and the deserted house?' 'What! nothing at all ?' asked Jim. 'Not a word until you hear from me/ said the lady. 'Well, how long will that be?' asked Jim. 'A few weeks only.' 'Well, I won't say anything about it,' said Jim. Take good care of your bracelet, wheresver it .is; let no one know where it is upon iny consideration. At present, I would ad pise you to take old Loo's advioe, and be rery careful as to the company you keep, jod blessyou!' So saying, the estimable ady closed the door, and Jim made his way to the 'Bed Lion Inn.' # * * * Leaving our hero on his way to the Red Tr. r. lat HD Mtnpn trt ttlO tcnrfll \7 mil. LJll/U JL LI LI ^ 1CV UO IWVUiu ?V wmw w???. pie, Pete and Bessie, and asertain what may oe going on there of interest to onr story. And did ye look well at the man ?' askjd Bessie, as she counted out fifty pounds, in ten pound notes. 'The gentleman did not stop a moment,' replied Pete. 'He just put the letter in my hand, and then walked out.' 'And what's in the letter V asked Bessie. 'That's not a proper question,' replied Pete, 'when you know full well that I cannot read.' 'Then hand me the letter, Pete; for ye know quite well that I can read any good, round hand-write.' Pete handed the letter to Bessie; who, ifter adjusting her spectacles, read as follows : 'Please hand the enclosed amount to Jim, ind assure him that the donor desires to je his friend and to treat him ever as his son.' 'His son !' said Pete, starting; 'then the jentleman must be the father that old Loo ;alked about.' 'Ye should not have let the lad go with )ld Loo to the deserted house, said Bessie. 'Didn't you say yes, when the old creature isked you ?' replied Pete. 'And what else could I say, Pete, when be terrible old woman talked about such strange things.' ?We were both foolish to let old Loo ? ? * - i -4. a_it- f : j ngnten as oy ner strange tain, suiu i cic. I wish the dear lad was safe and sound at?' 'SomboJy wants to see the master,' said a servant, who at that moment entered the room where Pete and Bessie were talking. Pete?poor fellow !?was but too ready to vait upon his customers ; for the 'Red Lion [on,' was, by no means a popular resort. In he good old days of queen Bess, his inn, or ;avern, was one of the most favorite in all England ; but the jolly clubs that held their lightly meetings there in the olden time, vere all asleep in the village church-yard. 'What can I do for you, sir?' asked Pete, is the newly arrived stranger approached lim. 'Get ready some cold beef and a bottle of vine,' said the stranger, apparently much' ixcited. 'I have travelled" some distance md am much fatigued.' Pete bowed and left the room ; while the jtranger threw himself heavily into a chair, ind took a long, deep draught from his branly flask. 'Zounds!'said be, looking cautiously a ound the room, 'I believe that old hag, Loo, is more devil than woman. Who in thunder can that old fellow be across the river, that Claude Milton's name inspires vith so much awe and terror? However, [*ve done Milton's job capitally, and old Loo is safe for the present;' and, so saying, Jude Simster?tor sucn ne was?ngntea ins pipe md called lastilj for the landlord. 'Ready for you, sir, in half a secorid,' said Pete, looking in at the door. 'Does it take an hour to cat a few slices jf cold beef?' asked Jude impatiently. 'No, sir;' said Pete, 'bat I suppose that you will want a few biscuits and potates.'^ 'Biscuits and Potatoes be d?d !' said the soaree fellow. 'Bring me a few slices of beef and bread, and a good bottle of wine ?stir your stumps, old codger I' 'Instantly, sir,' said Pete runnine out of .jr r . . <And, landlord! landlord !' 'Here sir,' said Pete bursting into the roofn. 'Mix me a strong toddy/ said Jude. 'With pleansnre, sir,r said Pete, moving towards the door. 'And?where are yon running to?' To get the beef and bread and toddy sir/ said Pete. 'Forgotten the wine, eh?' asked Jode. 'Beg pardon, sir;-nthe wine shall be brought/ said Pete, moving off. 'Be quick about it. then/ said Jude, 'i- - -J- L:- ?A o luruwiug usiuu uu> yiyc auu wnu^ up ? newspaper. 'What's this!?a reward of five hundred pounds for any information concerning the whereabouts of a lad named Jim, eh ? Zounds! th s must be the same boy that we met in the deserted house, and sent to Monctown last night. Darn me if 1 dont believe bim to be the genuine Julius D'Yilton I You're safe enough .now, Master Jim, so long as Milton keeps you in his honse!' 'Beg pardon, sir,' said Pete, entering the room with a tray; 'but I thought I heard you mention our dear boy's name.' 'Your boy's name?-?who is he?'asked Pete. Jim, sir,' said Pete, scanning the patched and disguised features of Jade Simster. Jim is quite a common name man; and your boy is not the only one in the world.? I was reading this article, signed by George Yandry, and offering a reward of five hundred pounds?.' * That's our Jim, sir,' said Pete. 'He saved that gentleman's little daughter from drowning.' 'Indeed!?and why do you not send the boy to him ?' asked Jade. 'Old Loo took him to the deserted house to see his father sir,' said Pete. 'Ha 1' exclaimed Jade, as a fiendish smile passed over his bronzed features; then, as if suddenly recollecting himself, he said : 'What do you mean by saying that Old Loo has taken the boy to see his father? I understood you to say that the boy is your son.' 'We call him ours, sir, because we found him, when an infant, and have raised him up in our family.' ... 'Where was he found?' asked Jude. 'Two miles from town, sir, on the road t6 Coventry,' said Pete. Jude started; for it was there that he had. oarried the babe thirteen years ago; there where he bad lost it. 'Did old Loo tell you who the boy's father is?' asked Jade. She did not.' 'And you say that she took him to the deserted house ?' asked Jude. ? 'Yes, sir.' 'Did you understand her to say that Jim would meet his father there ?' 'I think she said so,' replied Pete. 'Did she mention bis name?' asked Jude. 'No, sir. She simply said, that she had seen tYie name of Jim's father in one of the London papers.' Jude remained silent for a few moments as if in deep thought; then suddenly diving his hand into his pocket, he drew therefrom, and threw upon the table, two sovereigns; and, s'apping Pete familiarly upon the shoulder, said: 'Come, old fellow! bring along a few bottles of wine and brandy and join me in a social glass.'.. Pete's eyes fairly glistened at the sight of the bright gold coins; assuring the stranger that half that amount was sufficient to pay for .the articles called for. Durn the money !' said Jude. 'Just pnt it in your pocket and bring along the wine and brandy.' t 'But I never drink with my guests,' said i / reie. 'Then it is time that you should begio to do so,' said Jade. . Bat I've already taken too much this moraing,' said Pete, hesitatingly. So much the better, old fellow,' rejoined Jude. Bat?." 'Get what I have sent yon for I' said Jude, striking his fist upon the table. 'Instantly, sir,' said Pete; and so saying he left the room. 'Heavens!' said Jade, as Pete left the room, 'what a fortunate thing is it that I stepped into this old fashioned inn. If I only work the ropes well, my fortune is made beyond ail doabt 1' Pete re-entered the room as Jude concluded his sentence; and, placing the bottles upon the side board, he said : 'Please help yourself, sir;' and then moved towards the door.' 'What, in the devil's name, are you about!' said Jude; taking Pete by the arm, and leading him to a chair beside the table. 'Do you refuse to drink with me ?' i: Not at all, sir,' said Pete, dropping into the chair; 'bat, really, my good sir, I assure ??? T a rr? nnoklu frt rlrinlr mUflll Wlt.ll jruu uuai x aiu uuauiv w utiua you.' 'So yon say that Jim is at the deserted house, eh ?' said Jade, pouring out a glass of pure brandy, and handing it to Pete.? 'Now just swallow the contents of that glass, and I will tell you something about Jim which will surprise you beyond measure.' 'Indeed !' said Pete, putting the glass to his lips, and swallowing the contents with a rueful face. 'Tell me all about it!' What is your name?' asked Jude. 'Pete?but what about Jim ?' 'He is not at the deserted house,' said Jude. 'Not at the deserted house !' said Pete, starting. 'How do you know that?' Here Pete, unasked, drank off another glass of brandy. 'Because I have not long since been there,' said Jude. 'Gracious alive!' said Pete, 'didn't you see Loo ?' ?I promised to meet her there,' replied Jude, 'but she failed to fulfil her part of the agreement.' < You promised !?pray, sir, what may be 'My name is Edward D'Vilton, Pete j but why do you ask V . * 'How long have you been in Monctown, sir V asked Pete growing more and more exoited. 'Only a few hours,' replied Jude. 'I left London about a week ago, having reoeived a strange letter from some person called old Loo.' 'And did you ever have a son, sir 7' asked Pete, helping himself to more brandy. 'Alas !' exclaimed Jude, with well feigned sincerity, 'circumstances obliged me to abandon the poor babe to the mercies of this world many long years ago.' 'Maybe sir,' said Pete, 'you are Jim's father, after all!' 'How long ago was he found V asked Jade. 'About thirteen years ago, sir,\ replied Pete. 'Ah!?thirteen years!' exclaimed Jade, starting to his feet. 'And had the child a bracelet npon his ankle ??speak man !' 'Yes! yes !' almost screamed Pete. 'Where ia it??tell me, if you still have itl'said Jade. 'I'll bring it I?I'll bring it!' exclaimed the victimized Pete, staggering out of the door. . 'Ha, ha, ha;?the fool has fallen into the snare!' said Jader/uag poor Pete left the room. * ? * ? * * # * * * * We left Jim on his way to the Red Lion Inn. Let us return to him, and ascertain the oause of his delay. As the boy walked down Prince William street, hid mind very naturally reviewed the past eventful month. The crnel manner in which Yandry bad treated him ; his interview with old Loo j the salvation of Rosa's life; the visit to the deserted house, and his sudden removal to Monctown, together with other remarkable incidents, had been crowded into a few brief weeks, making them pregnant with the most stirring and unaccountable events. Who was this Claude Milton, that Loo should call him bis (Jim's) greatest enemy ? What meant Alice Milton's . charge to keep the bracelet with all imaginable care? Was Julius D'Vilton really the sod of Edward D'ViltoD; and, if so, what possible motive could Loo have id denying the fact? Such, in substance, were the thoughts that occupied his mind, as the pale, sadhearted boy passed along the crowded streets. Ever and anon he would 'endeavor to believe that old Loo, had spoken and acted from the wild pulsings of a crazed and disorganized brain; but, after all, an impression, whose potency he could not resist, would como down upon bis spirit, telling him ever so plainly 'you are not where you ought to be!?you are not what you should be !' Should he follow Loo's directions, aDd leave Bessie and Pete ? - As to the obtaining an eduoation, how was he to do so?a poor, helpless, penniless lad! Then he would call to miod the proffered services of Gfeorge Vandry. Should he ask his assistance, his money, bis influence? So thinking the boy wandered off towards : :j liliC riVCl'SlUC) OliBlkCIJI BUUITlUg U1 V/ailUg where he went. 'Is your name Jim ?' asked a finely dressed lad, who at that moment approached our hero. .. * That's my" name,' said Jim, turning towards the speaker. You are the boy that saved cousin Rosa's life, I suppose,' said the lad. Yes?what of it?' said Jim. She saw you pass her father's house awhile ago, and sent me after you, to ask if you would not come back and spend, at least, a few moments with her.' I would like to see her,' said Jim, ?but I dont want to go to Mr. Yandry's house.' 'Why not, Jim? Uncle George feels very bad about you refusing to come to his house.' Can't help it!' said Jim firmly. You'll go with me?won't you?'asked the lad. 'No, I won't;' said Jim. But, Jim, uiicle is not at the house now.' Are you quite sure?' asked Jim, hesitatingly. To be sure I am,' replied the lad. , 'Who else beside Rosa is in the house ?' asked Jim. 'Only her mother.' 'Well, I believe I'll go;?but lock here ! if you fool me about this thing, me and you will have a fight, certain;' said Jim. A few moments after, Mrs. Vandry held Jim's hand in both of hers, and beautiful Rosa's white arms were around his neck. <\I;ht T kiss him. mother?' asked Rosa. t'Certainly, my love;' replied Mrs. Vandry. ?Do-do;don't kiss me, Rosa/ said Jim, taming his face away. ?Jnst sit down and let me look at yon, and it will make me feel ever so happy/ 'Let her kiss you, Jim / said Mrs. Vandry, kindly. 'Kiss a poor boy like me!?Rosa kiss me /' said Jim, brushing a tear from his eyes, and looking sadly upon the beautiful child beside him. ?No, no; she's too good and beautiful to kiss me.' 'Do not say so, my noble boy/ said Mrs. Vandry; 'but see! you have made Rosa weeD.' 'I didnt go to do it ma'm !' said Jim; lookiog anxiously upon little Rosa. ?I-I? maybe I ought to go ma'm.' No, my brave boy;' said Mrs. Yaodry, smiling, 'just let her kiss you, and all will come right again.' 'Horrible!' exclaimed George Yaudry, rushiog breathlessly iuto the room. <Ah !' he cootiDued, observing Jim; 'you here!' 'What is the matter?' asked Mrs. Vandry, looking anxiously upon the terrified countenance of her husband. <1 have but just come from the Red Lion Inn?oh ! heavens! what a scene !' What did you see, sir?' asked Jim, a Vandry's countenance. h 'An old man stretched upon the floor and e weltering in blood/ said Vandry. v 'Sir!'almost screamed Jim, looking wildly upon Vandry, 'was it Pete ?' j <1 immediately alarmed the neighborhood/ i continued Vandry, not noticing Jim's ques tion ; 'when a woman, calling herself Bes- i sie, rushed from an adjoining room. Upon 1 observing the body of her husband, she I broke out in the most frantic and lamenta- c ble shrieks, and informed me that a stranger had not long since left the inn, who called < himself Edward D'Vilton.' J 'Merciful heavens 1' exclaimed Mrs. Van ' dry; 'can it be the gentleman who has so i long been absent from Monctown! What motive could have nrompted him to murder < a helpless old man I' " > ?I do not know;'said Vandry. 'Every t effort iB being made to find oat the wherea- 1 bouts of the murderer.' 1 'Mr. D'Vilton never killed Pete!' said ( Jim, with an emphasis that startled the fam- 1 ily. 'I'll find out the cruel man that did it!?see if I don't 1' And, so saying, ;the 1 boy rushed from the house, and run rapidly 1 in the direotion of the Red Lion Inn. J The town was in a perfect fever of excite- i ment. Groups of men and women were as- 1 sembled here and there upon the sidewalks, ' listening to the ever varying reports of the 1 terrible murder; while policemen were harrying to and fro arresting all persons upon < whom the slightest suspicion fed. < [to be continued.] ' T i i ' Original lager. * j - ? 1 ?*?_ i Written for the Yorkvillo Enquirer. J "REITGHLIN" AffD REV. W. C. DAVIS. ; number fiye. ^ Mr. Editor: Having disposed of "Bench- < liu's" attack on the memory ahd ministerial character of Rev. Wm. C Davis, in numbers one, two and three; and having also noticed some of his statements with reference to the "Independent Body," in No. 4, wa now "ap proaob the third question,* viz: " What arc the characteristics of these books?' Although I feel no desire to dictate to "Reuohlin" as to the character or style of his literary communications, I- will venture the opinion that his criticism would have manifested a spirit equally creditable to himself, if he had left the preceding questions uu-"raised," atid confined himself more especially to the third He would, at least, have been spared the necessity of speaking unkindly, and.unjustly of the dead ; and he would not have manifested the weakness of sneering at a people beorfuse Jtheir numbers are small. But let us notice the criticism. His entire article is a sweeping, and, as he no doubt supposes, an overwhelming condemnation. His first ground of condemnation seems to be, that "the Books were written forty (40) years ago." How unfortunate! And how stupid was the General Convention not to notice that fact! But, if volumes so "antique" as these (written 40 years ago) must, therefore, be discarded, how deficient must we considersnch books as those of Calvin and Owen, Baxter and Flavel, Brown, Edwards and Davies ;.and bow unwise in the Presbyterian Board of Publication to give their "inyprimatur" to such yplumes! , But further: he says these books "are very , superficial?abounding in common-place utterances, dogmatic assertions put for argu- , ments, and far-fetched conclusions from illo- ] logical premises." I simply answer, that dif- | terent minds, engaged in tne searcn tortrutn, although with equal advantages, often arrive at widely different conclusions, Others find reason to differ from this critic yery materially; and as be has not seen proper to offer a single instance of what he says is so abundant in the books, I presume the public will choose to judge for itself in this "matter." But I will concede this point entirely, and allow that Mr. Davis' books are very obnoxious to the charge here made, if there can be found in them, more of "dogmatism," "assertion put for argument," &o., than is exhibited in the article now under consideraation. If, therefore, the existence of these in religious works be a serious objection, and if "Reuchlin's" article in the N. C. Presbyterian be a fair specimen of his style of writing, I would humbly, but most earnestly advise him never to write any Theological Books. The reviewer objects further to these volumes, that "they are very pretentious to Theological scholarship, and quibble much in Biblical criticism?whilst, after all, the author gets no further from home, than to Dr. Scott's Commentary, Doddridge's Expositor, and Dr. McNight's, and Dr. Whitby's Vntaa " Tn f?ll fViia T Viacro tl\ 5JJT7 flint. T ilV/bUOj JL\J Mil KUIUj jl. "M ' V W J vm*.w * deem it superlatively childish. Mr. Davis, in writing his Lectures, bad a higher and s a nobler aim, than to exhibit a familiarity * with a variety of authors. His writings show c clearly that he had studied very closely, one t book at least?the Bible?which is able to ' make us "truly wise." I would rather have 1 it justly said of me, "He was mighty in the * Scriptures," than to have been entirely fam- I iliar with the works of all the Theological 1 Doctors in Christendom. 2 If "Reuchlin" affirms, however, iu the ' quotation above, that Mr. Davis, in these c volumes, does not quote or refer to other f authors than those named, we must conclude i that either he has never read the books a carefully, or he has read them for another c purpose than to ascertain the extent of the ^ author's researche. a But, according to tbejudgmentof"Reuch- 0 lin," these books are not only most offensive to the modern, refined taste, on aocount s of their "antique" and uncouth style, but, v if received, they would prove very dangerous, f on account of the many "revolting," and hoi- c rible "errors" ^hich they contain. After a close examination of the books, to detect what- j ie enumerate* five points which, he thinks, xhibit"the most prominent errors" tavght," is: 1. That the active obedience of - Christ 'onus no part of the righteousness which it imputed. for justification, 2. lhat Christs literal death (L e. sepa ation of ton! and body) on the cross wan tot the satisfaction he rendered to the ipso j mt that he died SPIRITUALLY, and in this onsists the atonement. 1 3. That the temporal sufferings used, ieath to tohich men are subject art not die jeual results of tin, i'--- ^. 4.?Thalfailh precedes?regenemtionljjnd 10 the fast act of faith is not a holy atst f 5 The damnation of the dying infant* fall who are not believer* in Christ. It is not my purpose, Mr. EfUtor, to at;empt here a vindications of thesearticles. Neither do I, nor does any one else, claim 'or the anthor of these boohs infallibility.? ;Query?Does "Reuchlin" claim as mftpb or his. "standards ?" M The first article in, the catalogue is age* ained, I think, in these books, not simply 4 >y "specious reasonings" and "dogmatic issertion," bat .by fiiir and forcible "argunent,". Said) as "^^eochlin" would lie able Jo controvert more successfully, .1 judge, by 'dogmatism" and bold denub&tfon, than 3y fair logic or Soripture troflrjgs, ' The intelligent reader^ however, can deride this matter far 'himself, by wlferehop the books. SeeLeot. on Rom., pp? 64*67, 39-101, 139-148., &c. Lect. on Hob. pp. 19-56,90-93/154-169, &c. As to the 2nd and 8rd articles, "Reaehlin" might have combined them into one, if be had not been anxious to exhibit as many horrible features in the phantom he "raises** as possible; for, of course, if "tgisfiSval death and sufferings" are not the\pbnai results of sin, then Christ?* natural death, ?. the separation of soul and body,v*as not a part of the atonemeafrj'lnd,t^e vetnd, if temporal sufferings and death nib pot only the sad fruits and consequences of transgression, bat if they are also the "penal results of sin," then, of eourse, temporal death was a part of the atonement, andonr divine Redeemer ought not to have said "It is finished," qntil be 'tgtfp nptbe ghostf? As to the 4th "erro#" named, will "Reuofclin" be kind enough to.oite as to the pages on whieh il.is taught f \, 1 .Mr. Davis taugfcHtfhis "Gospel Plan" that "Faith precedes Regenerationj" bat in these Lectures 'he teaches that faith precedes renovation, or sanctifieattoa, and he maintains that 'Regeneration is the wavitof the Holy Spirit convinoing -the sinner of M. 5 V I* - _ i * Dis gum, ana persuading nun to accept Christ as he was offered in the gospel, aad that it ends in faith." But Mr. Davis did not believe, nor do I, thai this ?his ' The first aot of fiaith a holy aetfor, it is by faith that we become interested in Christ, and the sanctifying spirit is not given until we become new creatures in Chrut Jesut; therefore,a the sinner cannot perform a holy act until faith gives Up to the $aw?r and secures for .him the renewing and sajic$ify? ing influences of tbe^oly Spirit. *&siii6ulc[, however, be borne in mind by no means, regard the iuSl act offtftb a* q? holy act; for th^re iaa manifest, and ayeiy important'difference betweegdjfr act' tfmjcfr is simply not holy, I would say, however, on this subject, let as not dispute about this mattefr^^j^BV ?ee to it that we are believers in the Lord Jesus Chris; for^if. we^Je, Dy faith, united to Christ, whether the iret act of faith be "holv" or not. his blood will'cleanse ns From sin?his Spirit will ma$&*us.mmt ind we sHall eventnally "be like him, for we shall see him .13 he is." *' In regard to the 5th '^rror^ahpedf* remark that I do oat dooctnf with the aatkair jf the Lectnres, on this aobject. I cannot bat conclade that all wbohhve sinned only in Adam, and ccmseqaenUf, have become guilty without their own voKffon, are also represented in Christ, and "are "made right* jous" by him. Bat before I, or "Reachlin" either, coald justly condemn Mr. Davis and lis whole book, because he teaches that only ;he infants of believers . are saved, we mtift >e able to overthrow the scripture arguments vhich he advances to establish his conolution, and show that God, in his word, does each the oootraiy. If "Reuchlin" will do this he Will relieve ny mind, as well as the minds of many )thers. I hope, therefore, thatlievrill favor is with an article from his able pen thtf will settle this point, and prove clearly Hie iniversal salvation of infants. I most renind him, however, that we wish this imlortant and interesting question settled and >stabli8hed, not by "dogmatic'assertion," or 'specious reasonings," but by fair and scrip* are "argument." vBnt the reviewer of these books thinks ifter all, that "the advocates of the truth save no occasion to be alarmed at the advent if such volumes." I sincerely hope that hey will not do much harm, whether their circulation shall be very limited, and their nfluence feeble," or not I have been in'ormed that the boohs are being "circulated" iretty freely, but I hope that "Reuchlin" will not feel distressed or "alarmed" on that iccount. Let the "unprejudiced" examine 'or themselves without regard to the "dictum" if "JReuchlin" or any other; and they will iod that whilst the style is plain, there is in t a piquancy and familiarity, both agreeable ,nd iDterestiog; and the author'8 exposition if scripture is strikingly lucid and forcible. ^.t all events, they will find the style of the uthor, and the matter, both peculiarly hit iwn. Our critic closes his article with the "asertion" that of the errors taught in these 'olumes, "many are revolting to the mpral eeliogs and education ofthe people?all are ipposed to the belief of the christian world -and none can be supported, except by a * ierversion and destruction of the word of A