1.• - , . '• Ilt . I , I i . • i i I , 1 1 . -- , -- - , I , .. . •• 1 - _ , 1 - 1 - - 1 . . 1 , 1 1 • . • • ! ' - , 1 • :1 •i t . . /- • 1 ~.' , . . i . . . , , 1 ' . e . •j. ' 'r i ll „ . .• ' - • J. :. ' : ... ' , . - 4i' . • . -' - , , 1 VOLUME. XVIII. c if E OBSERVER F oLISHD EVERY SATURDAY, AT ERIE Elio County, Pa. ' A. P. DUBLIN & B. F. SLOAN, l'npriefors and pub:Wirt-a ,c,coSNES OP STATE STIVEET AND I'USLW squAIL orrostrE TILE EAGLE Ilona. TERMS; OF THE ~darrthers (left by-the earner) $2 00 or at the oak, , iu ath, tint e, 2 50 rir not pnid in nth ante, er within three mouths I!, nine of bultsetilting, tr.o donut, n Al be charged. irlatu.n Awn , their Prams. .No paper d4ettittlintett until all artearageFt arc paid at the option or the publishers. All eornmunieations nAut4 be post paid to secure :usu. TERMS OF ADVERTISING. , q u,,,,, one year, $6 an Three squarer, 1 year, $lO do six months, 500 do do 8 mos. , 9 do three do 300 do du 6 do 6 ~,,,, Rd; ertisemetits 0 cr :it , per square for the first ',awn and :15 cents forea,l, subsequent insertion. ? Yearly atherti.wrot hat e tilt. privilt - dgeoftitotting "wore, but nt no time are allowed to occupy more ,three squares, ai,d to be (untied to their immediate /a. !tritiremrnts not baring other dirretionr, will be (n -it nliforbid, and chargiil or 4 ?tiaras, not exceeding 6 ilues, inserted nt pot v . ow.. • BENJAMIN F. DENISON, ATTO'nNEY AT LAW, Elorelooill. Ohio. pace on Superior st., in Atwater's Block. RE En To -0,4/attic° 11:1i Er, Catethr l4o LAW FCIIOO,II rLETCIIF.R, 10 State st., 114 Sou Lc .41, yr.r.n,Ne, 14 a wmuut rt., 1 hi!. um) 11. litsziAi,r., Esq., 53 Wn/I st., N,4 York for Tesrinom tl S, refer to this Oilice. KELSO & LOOMIS, !writ! Form ardiniz, Prutitit e Anil Ca niniissier li•rillanis. Denier.; in Snit, eunise and line also, C oa l, Flatter, Siiin, , jlLF, &e . rtiblit loco, west side of die public• Li idg. , Ed ie, l'a. inc J.K1.1,n, . IV. \V. Loomis. 1111L.IM COOK uk:ale and 1:, tail I)caler in cheap wet and fdrnet.ries, Nn.1.5 Bonnet! Block, tare ?I. 1 rio L. WARREN . . . Blind and Doer Mann:actilrer and Dealer in ‘s4.4t ride between i,h and Erie, T. \V. 1110011 E. aler in Orricerie, Pro% Wines, Liquor's, earlier!, Fruit. e. v Meek, Suite creel, Erie, Ea 4 l‘lAlUS11.1 1 1,1;;;:, LOCKIV001), orneye Ut Unit c up slutt:. in the Tam 11,111huildinLytut.hul-tht. othonotaWs JACIiSON. der_ in Dry h0r,,19, Grovvri,.q, ITardwarre, Ivens Ware,!l..iine, huh, :c.c. No. 121, to.gp,ide, Erin, Pa. • JOIIN . 11. MILLAIt, , 1110- h Survc) 6, u;lice in Exchnnu.c Erie. ag Co. A 1.0, N. Y. .V AItDI NG AND PRO )GCE COMMISSION -MERCHANTS, I) Dealers in 1..ci.i!!1) and Erie Coal, F•sitit 1 and •Produce rscneiallv. Particular atten paid- to the sale of Produce and purchase of olundize. N 0.3 & 4 Coburn Square, South Wharf. . N. iIuz.BERT, .\.Y. 13ENJA.)1 LN nooty and Ctinitheflor at Law ; No. .de flotur, Vrie. GIiAnA.M C TllOlll PSON, ”nrneys fi Cminsellois iit I , 1%%• , Oflicu on F renc h Ene.i.ocor S. J ackson Co's. Swill, April 21, 1917. l 19 1. 12.08ENZIVEiG iv.. Co. 'alas in Fortir.i) and I)i Good,. Iliadv_ \lade Clothinrr, Bum , a nd Shies, t‘e. l No. I, Hemming Bloch, State Slice:, Erie, Pa, GALIMAITHS LSNE, tiornry• and (2ortn-.llorn at Law !trice on ndl ,tact, N‘v..!, side uf the Public :,-..rillare„ Erie, Pa. CU RR 'XIII. .IV. A. CALBRAiTIT. 'W. S. E (;. LOW!' R, CO, alen , in Wvelies, Jewelry, Silver, German Sil wr, P 1 i ed and 111 ictannia Ware, Cutlery, NI aad Faiwy Goode, N 0.7 Reed [louse, Erie Pa. - 2 C. 11. WRIGHT. Vl:olesale and llciail i)ealcr in Dry Gorde.Grrn teries, Haiti wa re, C. oci; ey, 1 ssu Iron, Len' her, oil., etc. etc. cornet of state %.i(et and the Public Squa, opposite the E,igie 'Unern, Erne, Pa. ' 'WILLIAM RIBLET. 'Mut Maher, Upholster and Undei;aker, state Surto., Erie Pa a S. DICKINSON, M. D. Plipician and Surgeon, office on Seventh Street, vim of the Methodist Church, Erie, Pa. IVALK ER & 00 K, Gencrd Forwarding, Commission, and Produce Wrdwints; Red Ware }louse, cast of the Pub lic Br ithro, Eric. JOSEPI I KELSEY, • Winufacturers of Tin, Copper and Shect-fro ware corner of French and Fifth alrcata, Erie. .ESTER, SENNETT 4.. CHESTER, ron Founders, wholesale and retail dealers in Stoves tiollow-ware tee. State street, Erie, Pa BURTON & PERKINS, Wholesaleand retai Weak:pin Drugs,Medielnes Dye •Otuffe, Groceries, 6:c. N 0.5, Reed House F.rie. Pa. 1113.11.11.8 & DEWEY, Pealcre in Dry Goods, Groceries, s.c. No. 111, Cheap.ide, Erie Pa. CARTER tz. BROTHER. Pea Jere in Dm2s, /Medicines, Paints, Oils, Dye, 'tuff!, &.c* , No. Reed notice, Elie, Is. B. TOMLINSON Bt, Co. Forwardi nz and Commission Merchants; 109 French Street, Eric, and at 6th Street Canalßa ton, also dealers in Groceries and Provisions. HENRY CADWELL. Dealer in Hardware, Dry Goods, Groceries, &c. • east side of the Diamond, and ono door cast of rho Eagle Hotel, Eric, Pa. EAGLE JIOTEL, - Ey fliram L. Braun, corner of State street and the Public vquare, Erie, Pa. Eastern, Western, and Southern Stage urn _a. - --- - - - --- LYTLE k ITA IILTON. Fulhionable Merchant Tailors, on ate Public ' Square,t a few doors %vest of State street, Erie, I's, JOEL JOHNSON. Dealer in Theological, NI iscellancous, Sunday and Classical S .- hcol ,Book; Stationary, etc. etc. •. nchStrek Erie, Pa. 1 P. A . R. BRAPE, Atioracy and Coti eellor atlaw, Prairie du Chien, Ws T. piactice in ihe counties of Crawford, etrallyanii lowa, W. T. and In Clayton county, IncaTerritorY. .-- S CiLIFFEES' series or Sonool BOoke, 4 and 5. for sale at No. 111, French St. Erie, Muy'6, 1817. . 51 TUE beat assortmentllani Boxes in the , coon' y for --ale by H. COOK. _I 44 . I. isTIFIOU ART NOT 11E81E.,, The Spring comes forth in loveline! , s, The earth in gay attire is clad. The fields put on their mhos' dress, Awl ctery thing looks bright and glad. tint What are all limbo things to me, Siam! they to pleasure can impart? No beauties in them can I .e 0 To soothe or cheer this lonely timid. The liekls in t nib their beauties rese t • I heed theni not—thou art not here. The Suoiknev comes tochocr the eight, The birds are slnging in the grove, The sun ii shaking clear nod bright, And nature acorns latticed to love, Hut on mine ear unheeded fells The merry song and piniuttve Fur gay or sad, each note reenlls Thu bitter thought—thou art uway.. Their joyous songs fall ou mino enr, And makes ma sigh—thou urt not hero, Tho Autumn comes, and brings along Of goldea fruits a plenteous store, Glad toices su eel!) , blend SU song, And hearts with mirth seem attaining tree. The' yonng and old aro blest and glad. The clowded halls iu splendor sh And yet it makes MO lone and sad To think upon my fate and thine I weep to think that thou my dear, 1 My life my all—thou art not here, COINCIDENCES. My mind and my heart are full,,yet I fear to take up the pen. I would fain write a short story of some things tt !licit happened to tny self—a simple, yet strange Tale, whercfrom men may draw a moral if they choose. ' But it is true; and it hinges on' facts which are the staple of our daily, hnowledge, though we lack the faith that as ould show us how they arelinked together, and made to act upon each other by an unseen yet ever-working power; and therefore, I doubt if it will be be lieved. Within this hour in a ptfrt of Lon! don, whither my duties seldom, call me—in durlieus of Covent Gartail have seen one, skulking under the shadow .of night, who has brought bacleto my thoughts wid, happened many lung years ago—scees in which I was forced against my will to a t, and yet in tyllich I felt , alif the sorrow had been my . own. And here le? mealso say, that my story Niut one of stroriu . passions or glaring crimes. lam no skilled writer of cunningly schemed fic tions, nor,—did I even know how,—should I care to harrow tender hearts with plots of ,wicked men or scenes of poignant grief. My tale will only be a plain string of facts; it will have but one claim upon the reader's heart, which is, that it h true, • About twenty years ago, in the little woody village of -, in, Middlesex, there was a boy's school. It was not a seminary for young gentlemen; it was not a childish-trap "a mockery, a delusion, and a snare," for anxious mothers, or a commission agency for parents and guardians, or a huskster's-shop for butchers ittid bakers to exchange meat and bread for Latin and stripes; nor was it a house of torture fur gentle heartland emulous spir its, where a cold, low despotism chills and stifles the warm impulses of the childish na, tore; or a vile r grinding tyranny stirs and stimulates the nascent passions in forms of monstrous precocity. It was not a place where the eternal welfare of living souls could be jobbed away against petty profits on bad beef and stick-jaw pudding; nor where one minted, coarse, unshapen moral uniform was forced by contract on all minds alike, whether by nature ,they were great or little, strong or weak. It miscalled Boy's School, but it was something, more; it was u family, %%here the time was spentin living and learn ing, where authority and coercion were un known, because love and duty preoccupied =I ;heir places. A The =stet', to be sure, seemed somewhat young to be the patriarch of such a little lov ing tribe. He %%las an M. A., and the clergy man of the village. His attainments were such as would have'entitled him to aim at distinction' in the church, but, though active minded, he loved peace and retirement, and he had a passion for training and developing the minds of children, towards whom he felt a really Christian love. His boys were his friends. He possessed the rare faculty of be ing able to descend to the level of their intel ligence; and they opened their little hearts and minds to !him as if he had been ,their brother, or they play-fellows, as indeed, out of achool hours, he often was. Yet he had brought with him into the scene of his tran quil existence much insight into mankind— a store of that pure and better wisdom, which is founded on a knowledge of the existence of evil, tempered by an ever-watchful hope of good. One boy—he was the eldest of the school —was to Mr. Faber almost a" companion'.— On his promising nature be had bestowed much care, stimulating his habit of reverence, strengthening his honesty.of spirit and pas sion for truth; and, while encouraging a nat urally active benevolence and disposition to self-sacrifice for the sake of serving others, at the same time striving to developo and en courage discrimination and prudence. The. youth's mind had thus attained a - healthy and early maturity. The master who was in easy circumstances, kept a sort of little pony barouche—a neat af fair, in whiCh he and his wife could now and then pay a visit at a distance. Sometimes, when a commission was to be executed in a town not far- distant, he ~vould trust the boy I speak of to drive over for the purpose, with perhaps aquiet junior.. One.day the unpretending carriage end its youthful charioteer were on the way back to when at the end of a plantation; a gentleman hailed the latter from a cottage door. He was •tall, remarkably handsome, and had ireoft mode of "address which instant ly charmed the hoy. He had a young lady on his arm. 111' A WANDSRER• A. TALE OF FACTS. Cll A PTER 1 IMEMICIM "My little man, I wish you would do me favor?" "Certainly, sir, with pleasure." "Then, will you let this young lady ride a , far as.—, and set her' down at the Merto Arms, to wait fur me? She is not well enougi to %%ialk . so far, and there is no hope of an other conveyance. lam obliged to wait her: for an hour or so. lam sure'l can trust he !with you, My little gentleman, and I see yo are a steady,driver.'r -- The young lady did not speak, but, as sh: stepped into the carriage, she bowed 'dad!. to the boy; and slowly to' the gentleman, im in a minute.they were on'the road. The youtl made some friendly remark to his fair charge I but she only bowed, though still kindly. Sh. l spoke not a word, and her companion, who alI ready had that instinctive respect for her se which is the true key' to human happinesJ foibore to intrude on her reserve. In les., than an hour the chaise stop l ped at the inn 1)1 jumped down, handed out his fair char" whoM he confided to the smiling landlad and followed them into the inn parlor. Alon i , for a moment with' the young lady, ho sao that she was* in tears. Ile felt simpath I but he dared not speak: She thanked hi courteously, as a young woman would thattl a growing lad; and, on giving him her lulu she said, abruptly— - - . "Will yOul let me know the name e young gentleman who has bared ma th fatigue?" Boy-like he gave his name and address;,a he immediately proceeded back to Minot, tel ing his master of the adventure. Mr. Fabe l who never missed an opportunity of cultivi l l ting a new idea, listened attentively, and seriously, half jocularly, complimented hi on the "conquest" he had made, at the san time praising his delicacy and good manalp ment. And the aflhir was soon forgotten. It might have been a month or six weel afterwards. Ono evening, in the twilight a ter tee, as the master was seated with h wife and one or two of the principal boys, • was announced that the landlady-of the Me tdn Arms wished to speak to Master I "Abu!" cried Mr. Faber, archly. Mast !felt conscious that his face was re yet he did not know Why. The landlady w called 'in at Ilk request, when she present him with a note, superscribed in a delicate male hand. “Aii!” cried Mr. Faber, again, but lath gravely. • The boy handed the note to his • mast who opened arid read it with evident intere t. "It is from the young lady you set dot n at the Merton Arms. She begs tht she m:y see you." “Ali, poor young lady!” interposed tie landlady; "she has been with us ever sin e. I'm sure she's a good young lady." Mr. Faber reflected for a few moments; then his face - resumed its usual cheerful x pression, and he said, laughing,— "Well, Harry, I shall have instructed on to little purpose if I cannot-trust you with I ,is little adventure. I suppose she is at lens a princess in disguise! Go back with Mrs. Critchett. I suppose the end of it will be that you will bring your fair inamorata to he Parson - age House." The youth did as he was desired. Perhaps the reader thinks that this was v r imprudent in the clergyman. In an ordinar case it would have, been so, but Mr. F be knew the lad's disposition well; and, m re over, it was-his - system to enforce, wher ve it was possible, his precepts byl example, t u preparing inexperienced minds for the null ties of life. lii less than hour a ring was 15.1m1 at th bell. Is Harry come back from the princ, cried Mr. Faber, laughing. Harry it certianly was. but he l lmd o arm a young and singularly beautiful gi Mi. Faber turned pale, and looked very g He had not expected that his jocular re would be taken literally by his pupil Faber turned very red, and looked rathe grily at the new-comer. The yonth, in whom the adventure 110 spired the natural courage of our sex ‘I . Ibefriending the other, said,— "Sir, you have always told me never part from my 'word, even if spoken in jea "You are right—you are right, my b. Weil?" ”I am very anxious that this young slytold speak in private with you and Fiber. S. he will then return to the where Mrs. Critchett is expecting her: The masteratsCnted, and the tht‘ee left alone. At the end of this time, a sage Was sent to the inn that the yot6g would sleep at the Parsonage. Mr. said nothing to his pupil, beyond praisin ! for the kindness and decision he had s ifor was it till two orothree years after, he had grown older, and was leavin, school for college, that he told him wha t passed at the interview. In about a from her arrival, the yoUng lady agai and her young champion heard no more . her. But the adventure lett a strong i sion on his memory. atArTEn 111. I was not always so steady-as I a At first the temptations of a London li too much for a young man thrown filo in their way; on the other'hand, if tl -not lead to actual vice, they are Earwig cessary school. At the, time I refer t. haps lwelve or fourteen years ago 7: —l law student. One night, I was, at hour, in one of than taverns freque young men who lead what;they call a life, though anything more dull, stupid,; fees, and ",slow," cannot liscOnceive thoughthe tavern I speak' of 'was, at Hove atilt is, oneg - the best and most lar of its kind, the roam was-but a Mil goon ? bOxed Often:either side into places of confinement, where .to sit Norm ORLD URDAY, APRIL 8, 1848. in at ease was a feat for little men alone; and the atmosphere, heated tp'n poisonous degree with gas, rerked with the c'ontlicting, odorslof innumerable and indescribable -suppers.-- Here were to be.nightlr meta motley com pany, composed of sucking professionals t like myself, intermingled with mien- steady; toping citizens to whoni their conversation was a relaxation after their daily toil, and occasion ally varied by - the presence of a flashy, slan gy-looking race of beings peculiar to some London taverns,—wretched imitations of the cast-off habits of a . few notorious aristocratic roues. Here men nightly sacrificed their rest, forcing untimely food on cloyed appe tites, and drinking fiery stimulants without relish, save in the mad excitement they pra duced. I sat in a box apart. This night there were not many persons present. I was quiet -1 ly eating my chop, thinking:how foolishly I had spent my evening. Insensibly my at tention was attracted towards the !pposite 1, box, where a tall, florid, ihandsome man was entertaining' a small knot - of listeners with what seemed to be a good Story, so frequent was the laughter. Without actually listen ing, yet I could not help hearing. i'Ah, but the way I got the girl was better I. than all! I made regular love to her---honor able proposals, you know, and all that sort of f thing; and the old mother was as proud as , s possible' that her daughter had a 'gentleman', for a sweetheart. But she always wanted to put off the marriage: her daughter was tor; 1- young, she said.. The onedid not think so: As she was very romantic (and by 64' way, she had a nice romantic little name, f 1 too,) I persuaded her to elope, bought the li e ' cense, and did ever„ 'quite proper,' you e know." I am really ashamed to pen the rest of his infamous story; yet if these 'things are not known where is the value of the warning? This man went on, in the coolest way, to re late, that his•victim had eloped with him; that he had, in vain, manoeuvred; till, at lust, lie was obliged to, try what he called a "capital dodge," which he had once before used with success. Were not the truth of the tale es tablished beyond a doubt, it would be difficult to believe that any human being could be such a fiend. The poor girl had, - it - last, begun to doubt; but, in the morning, he came to, her with the license open fin his hand, and said he was prepared to take her to church. Then ho told, with passionate protestations, his "his-. tory:" that he had in early youth, been invei gled into marriage; that his witched left him many years before, on finding.herself deceived as to his property; tha t he', J kitew pot where ' die was; whether alive or deA; and that, if he married again,, he .incurred the risk of the 4te of a felon; but that finally, so great was Ins devotion, be was prepared to peril all, and fulfil his promise. And then he conjured her to go to church. The end may be guesSed. By her virtue he conquered her' virtue. By her'very magnanimity and spirit of loving self-sacrifice ho effected her ruin. He gore her a written promise of marriage "on the death of his wife." . of course he had' no wife. Let no one too serely judge the un happy girl. To be; utterly ignorant of vice is almost as dangerpus as to be vicious. ' Not a Word of this was lost on toe. I was n o t sorry to see that even the half-intoxicated listeners had an instinct that it was a "little too bad." One of them asked-- "And what became of the young lady " The man, who was too much inflamed! by Wine to see the change in their manner, Went 1:E=1 "Why, the way I got rid of her was better s r till, One day I took her a walk. She got fired and' we rested a moment in a cottage.— /l first ratelidea struck - me. I had promised her that we should ditie - at the'pretty village Of I saw an empty carriage going in that direetion. I asked the youngster who drove it to let her ride to the inn. The green horn was quite proud of his office. I need hot say that I was off for London directly. I i llitil 'ave. park new she'd be too proud to come back when ' 1 she found it out." , - In hen "No, nor never shall. But I believe she was obliged to hook the youngster. who Was, 9 1 'ust getting out of his hobble-de-boyhood. I dare say she was his 'first love.'" • Unconsciously seeing that I looked inter ested, he had addressed " his latter sentences across to me. I stepped over ands said— I= ady I rs. "But you have not told us the name, the ro mantic little name, of the girlie" "Oh, she was called Rose!--pretty name, isn't itV" • "And her other name?" . "Ainmenford." • 2:11 1= mes lady aber "Monster! fiend! scoundrel!" I.cried, to the utter astonishment of the spectators. "Knovi that your victim was saved! . 1 can • tall you r ; the sequel of the story. Providnce has pro d tected her. She was restored ; to a fi fe nf' virtue. I—l am the boy whom you would have duped, and whom you now seek o del fame—Reitile!" • In an instant a rummer was flung at in head. I; rushed at the ruffian. Alas! I wds no match for his science; I had only -courage and passion on my side. I was in a fair way of suffering for my interfdrence, when a nenr corner changed the face of ; affairs. ' When the wretch pronounced the name l of the girl, • had fancied I heard something like a groin at the 'other end of the room, but; I was too much excited to take much 'notice Id lown; when the ha( Wee kit abou so cease I be popu e dun • parat. nd ea OOV t ,R.ttED TOO MU "And you never heard of her again?" I Was now quite certain. I could-bear it no anger. it. To my surprise, a fine, strong-looking fellow stepped between us, saying to, go? an tagonist- ' - „ "Mr. ---, I have heard your disgusting story. .Yon know me. and what•it is to me to hearjt. This limy businese t " turning to me; and then be•covered•tbe other with most opprobious epithets. — • "You impudent rascal., bow sieseyou BPOIS CA." „ t manner!” roared the other; yet nder the attack, but hi j pride fight. This time he ha, his zaw a, man receive such a unish ;lee doorsniah night aga i n s t tavern iri .aver e ri n - ha e v ra i , 1 1 ef been wi t hout the interference (if . .. the was only too glad to slink off i Idh h e e r w : a l a ke dd a away, fur a to p I P et r u e n „ e t r e o c v t e e r d • ep feeling, and I knew not vim or re. I e coincidence seemed stgular, I , .tantaneous retribution, adm nister vho was evidently interestifi, was lout of the cOmmon course ofihings. here more strange coincideiCes to I tame in th' he quailed made him match. I never : ment. 'T closed for fair went police. to his olio champion, come by d: what he w To r e and the in: ed by one something But there come CM PTER - Iv. essional duties and the turmoil of a ctive life soon obliterated from my I letnory of the affair meutioned in the :r; indeed,' except irk connection r i tecedents and conseotiences, it was aracter much to arrest the -atten ed scarcely say, too, that I soon ose habits of dissipation in which , g men indulge,. for at least a short . they are first thrown upon the ppliedenyself steadily t 7 my pro d do nut suppose that, except when consultations, I ever was out ofl er than eleven o'clock. A tavern'l tered; a theatre, only !when some- t or remarkable %ratite be perform- 1 eed not remind the reader how lit n ity has of late been given for any l e of thnt sort. ` In short I was one st regular and plodding men in a where steadiness and application t ore certainly to succesls than in any My pro tolerably mind all last eliapt with its a not of a c tion. I n gave up ti must von time, whe world. fession, at engaged , i my bed la l I never e thing are! ed; qnd I tle onport I iotfulgenc. of the mo professio conduce other. As am I wo cessary consequence of these hab red to get married. When a man iienced the advantage of ¬icing r virtue, he begins to long fur that he greatest of all. Hone is eeri t on the delightful venture, fortune is kind enough to throw a lottery tick vay; for I never listen to those men 'Oh, I would marry directly, but I a wife!" its. has the expo small MOE ously ben generally et in the who say can't get Aly tic •et turned out a prize. Ido honest. merely ) feel that I was_ utterly un the preference shown in, my favor, hole subsequent life has been devo ving to render myself worthy of her. trvisit to Mr. Faber, when I was first d to the family with Which I now honor to be allied. kis enough for ecs of my tale to say, that there were Irs, Mary (mine) and Eliza. I think the strongest mind, but, perhaps, it vanity that suggested the idea. Eliza 'emely beautiful, but a little head- After some difficulty, I`-became,-the E:tritor pf Mary, and in'f conrsk a visitor at the house. ly and si worthy o, and my ‘1 ted to str I was on introinc hale the the purp. • I two slat.. Mary ha' was my was ext strong. accepts constan I now speak of what happened about :six years a! 1 bee/ elapsed, of wliic ered tha sisters. me conscious, after a short time had ..„. (that there was something going on 1 was not aware. At last I discov there was some secret between the I frequently asked Mary, but was as t off 'with an 'arch laugh, Once I iza, but she blushed so scarlet, and o frighrened, that I forebore to repeat Akin. At length the secret came to 1 j Eliz had a lover. Mary told i e the fact one t fact one evening in the t4ight, positively intoxicating state o f ten ! Well, as soon:as the ice was broken, kilt] talk of nothing else. She evi- Idmired the unknown excessively. lie Faudseme, so courteous arid so well could sing so well and ride so well; he had every manly attraction under 1. True,lie was a little older than Eli- often p asked l looked s my que light. r imports ditring derness Eliza c cleanly was so read; h in shot the sun lt , t za,--it eemed to me more i than a little; but i she hi always resolved never to marry a man' who w a not considerably in advance' of her in 'Join of years. It seemed to me, that Eli za was proud of her lover;. more than .that, she lov d him as a woman ought to love,"'ilten, she lov 13 / Ile had evidently struck her imi aginati n, and had obtained an ascendency e l over h r mind. I ought to add, that Eliza was to inherit a very' large fortune,—and not only tl e same amount of money that Mary ‘4as to have v but in addition, a considerable sum fr m a grand-aunt, who had formally made I er heeheir. . I •nath an important day came. The I I vn was to come down and pay his be ay visit. I discoiered that I was the ause of so much of the anxiety I wit- At 1 unkno troche. chief in the sisters; but Eliza had somehow cunceilved an- opirdontoflmy judgment,and was . very nervous as to the impression her lover would', produce. Mary,' on the other hand, who Was all affection, trembled lest I and my i • future brother-in-law should not like , each other.) • = On the eventful day I strolled over from the Pareohage.•, There were the two sisters, with good` old their mammam in the corner, smiling benignant satisfaction. Mary was grave; as for Eliza, I expected every tudanent - to see her handkereh fly oil;, her • heart thumped at 1 such rate .l At length there was-a loud ring at the mit t er gate, thou the sound of horse's hoofs, then a dotriestic bustle in the passage, and tlien ' I the Iver was usheredfin. I It Vita .."' 9 . 1 1 11 . _ T e monster turned pale as death when he saw e. With all his assurance and addreas, he was taken off Ins guard. But he saluted .-* ine'distantly, in the manner of one who has been only introduced,' The- sisters exchan ged lances. ; . - "you know M , es," I said, hey' met before. 4 6 p or Mary! All her Worst fears were more the realized. We talked pn indifferent subjects for some time. At length a walk in the grounds was proposed. While we were out, con trived to take me aside. He had made up for the part of a repentant 'sinner,=perhaps_ he calculated on the softness of the .gteenhorn again! 'He protested, he abjured, he conjur ed. He was utterly reformed. He had spent years in striving to find Rose, that he, might make her the only reparation. Even . now, could he find her, he would make' the sacri fice; and sa on'. I listened quietly. His manner was too abject. • It was not the real expression of manly, contrition. I saw that the wretch was acting. I said, "I shall do my-duty, which is, to tell this family the simple facts; they can then act as they, choose. O( this I . aip certain, the man who could do as you have done towards poor • Rose must have the nature of a fiend. At all events, the risk is 'toe great for an, innocent creature like Eliza. Be sides I have heardof you since. I knoiv that you'have neglected your profession from hav- I -- ingl4n independence. I have hen's(' also that' you have gambled away your fortune. You' seek Eliza's fortune, not herself.' No, sir,, shall do my duty_and you can take what steps •ou like." He was livid with rage. - "Thqon wish that I should - give you another lesson?" said he, maliciously insolent. "Pooh, pooh, sir! lam wiser now than I was then. Good day!" I blame myself much that, froman instinc tive dislike to come into contact with this man, I did not at cnce speak, I s let a day elapse. That day had nearly proved fatal .to poor Eliza; it would have done' so but for an-' other "coincidence." Virhen I again sought Mair'y, she was grave, and Spoke in a manner she had never yet used. Still, her hati'd trembled when I pressed it; and a tear stole down her cheek. "Mary." I said, "where is yotir`thother? I have a communication to make her of the ut 7 most importance to your sister's happiness." "Oh! you need not do so; Mr. has already confessed till. It was with shame that he did it; but he said your hypqc 7 risy' (that was 'the word he said, Harry,) compelled him," and the tears rolled down her beautiful cheeks. True it was,the scoundrel had made h the most of his time, and had told his story in his own way; but in order to put me forever out of the witness-box, lie had coined a lie to the effect that he had intended to fulfil his prom ise, but that I hnd withdrawn the affections of the girl; and that I had forever concealed where she was to be found. Mary, a solemn assurance that it was a falsehood was enough, but Eliza looked op me with very different feelings. Her lover's influence was too strong even for the truth. He had, too, taken advantage of the affair to' precipitate the marriage. A day not very far distant was fixed. '.But why," says the reader, gklo you not bring Mr. Faber on the scene?'' First, the Parsonage I was now at was not the Parson age of the early story, bui. one in a different part of the country. Secondly, Mr., Faber and his wife had gone to the South of France with a eonstlitptive ehild,' and it WPs Pet known When they would return. It might be in a week, it Might not be for months. They might be on the way home, I :they, might have been obliged to stay -longer, and we did not know whereto address them. Thirdly, I was as much' at home at' the'Parsrmage as if they hadbeeri there, having received permission to make use ofi it, as Paddy says, "for the eon raynienee I was in a most painful position. This manfiend had so well used his time, end his influence over Eliza, that she really believed I was the mean fellow he represented me to be. At once headstrong . and imaginative . , she took a sort of romantic interest-in upholding her lover. IShe was ready to make any sae.. rificesfor him. I was rapidly becoming de trop in the family. 'lt was only by the affec tion and truthfulness of Mary that I held on. The old lady sided with the sti•ongestcharac ter, but without airing very deeply into the case.- Old poeple often . mistalie suspicion\and cunning for wisdom: . and it was more easy for her to suspect me of the artifice attriboted to me, than,' by a strong effort, to se the truth. Meanwhile, I cared little except for poor Eliza. I knew that tiine:would clear me; bet, in the meanwhile, the day for the mar riage.was approaching fast. What was to be done? Oh, fOr one minute of Mr. Paber!— That would settle all. As far as, matters went, falsehood NO t l r6 implied over twit. Mr. Clayford was be lived, I was not believed. Daily,l trembled more and more for Eliza.. The marriage was to take plane' iii iwp days. I had conjured, , protested in vain.-- The more efforts i made, the more haughtily and even obstinately did Eliza cling to her lover. I was in agotty. I forsaw her dcsti ny, yet had not the means to avert it, having, from the very nature cf the case, no prOofs. Mary was true to me, but there was a gravl ty in her demeanor which pained me severe ly. She, too, was evidently like her sister, moro influenced by her lover than by her con victions. My antagonist was extending his fatal power. I knew not. what to do. - A belkounded. It was the postman, a rare visitor at the house, ;whose arrival alWaYs caused a 'sensation. lle left a letter address ed to Eliza. I knew nob whence came the presentment, but It gave me a iort of wide- Pried hope.' The letter was from the aged re lative I spoke of, who had adopted my future sister-In-law, and. it ran Vino • "MY dearest Child,l should not rest in my grasie . If I had not been present on the occasion which is to decide the happiness of youti' life. It is pot enough that I highly approve Of the young man you have chosen—l must be there when you give him your hand. I must giN e said Eliza, ' i .„ -. and I =I - 'IT' CII A ' , Tin v. MBER 4 EEO yO,u my blessing at the alter, and glen I shalt die in peace. Iltit a severe attack of my old complaint makes it impoisible for me to set out to•doy, as had wished. Can you, ,vill, you, postponp- this marriage fora few days, th a t I may enjoy 'almost my only remaining wish in this world? .Ever my child, your 01\1A affectionate aunt. "r • P.—You' lnow I have advertised fora new companion, one whO can read to the my .favoOto-german authors. I have receivetion9 answer which pleases me much. The young lady writes from and, as that town is nearer to yon than to sly place,,l have asked . her to come over there. 4 This was 4. respite.' I looked at Play-ford. _L 1 Ho was p ule wlth anger and dkuppointinent . Here was his Prize removed 0, sbort s distance from his expec ant grasp. Bad men have nil trust in the fur re. For my. part, though my i position was not bettered, yet to'have gained time was sorne4ing. Mr. Faber might come; ' I knew his inflnence was great. Three or four days passed over.' "Aunty," as she was tail ed, arrived, and I made her ac quaintance. She was really a good-natured s well-informed, charming old mai , and not at all likely to di in a hurry. Ortunately,, ' I am pretty w , l read in GQIIIIII . ii(eZattikas and I flatter thyself I bad a little advantage over my antagonist in some other respects.--,.. lie htid spent too much time in vicious indul: geuce to have iced much., In short, "Aunty" and I "cottoned" to each other admirably, and, insensibly my position improved. So ainett fur the presentment. - Another day had, of course been fixed for Eliza's marriage . At the earnest prayer Of Mary, and ev , i 'of Eliza, elm unbent so far, I consented to re ain silent one subject which they regarded ;ii already disposed of.. I nes-. er could withstand a wome n 's tears; and, be, sides, Clayford had played his part so well, each time he had comp to see his intended, that really my own resolution almost shooli, I doubted whether, without proofs, I ought to go further. '---, , . The evenning before the wedding -day, 1 re., ceived 4. Burn ed note froth MurY, "'What; .was she to think of me? Thefyoung. womack who Was toc(thie to meet her aunt, wlienask, ed for a refer l ence, he l d actually given iny name and address. I must come over innati, diately and e. plain myself" or her heart *mild break:" * l - over like' a madman, or likii,tha Tam O'Shanter. •Mary's l l4ter What yoi l ing woman could ,eference to me? Was it-a am ,. Orayfore! I gallopped Earl King, or gas a myster !Ave given a. trick of Mr I was ushered into tbeglraWing-. Ivlvere asseJtabled the whole fami pi repared fora "ticene." Eliza Shantly, Mary Was in tears, 101 l this?" I cried. "For klod'a Mary says some bung wawa' .eferenee to me. Who is She! Where is she?' II arrived. rpom, where ltr, evidently looked triura "What is i sake speak! his given- a 1* What is she?; waa in a rage at being thus hastily and groundlessly suspected. Till now, l'ha not beep fully sti,bl9 of the extent to wbic, poison of tny antagonist had woTheil, "Aunty," Answered— "The youUg lady, sir s is trot yet come. It was by, letter she sent the reference to you. We are expecting her." oth toughed the But njy ifeeli r many days. hope f?ti watt ne4s . And ' me on this o• as utmai, sal Strang to SI fortify their! cc eirenmstancos,. I should hare ;thing away as an absurdity...l nge had been wrought upon for I knew that the best Eliza could Id be to her high spirit unhappi eWhat more contributed to ezccitq vasion was, that Mary had Pot, ted me, but had set apart in grief. y, my seriousness contributed suspicions. At lenoth Of coarse, t, was. It mi had parted fl yomfg worn. , mature tha first touche parlor of th: me first,lMu riage, and hibitedOV I pass 'cml Much to be Rose's early ate. The which she t slanderous ij ilven El izail 'the youbg lady was announceat l ie reader has anticipated, who she now nearly fifteen years since I om poor Rose. She was stilt s# •u s but beauty hid become more when her lovely face in tears my boyish feelings in the Nettle It Merton Arms. AVhat. struck •ever, was the dignity nr her car.' striking sir of high breeding ex- 1 in her simplest gestures, l or expianationsi, It pained mei ompelled to revive the memory o il griefs; but the case was desper, rtlessness, yet earnestness, with old her story, cleared the fn . :lm the sitmations of my antagonist e= confidence left her. At lenth Mr. Crayford was announced. I had laid out my:plan of actron. I knew - that, with all his successful villany, this fellow had nat presenc l e of mind. As:he entered the room, Rose wan sitting with her back to ,the door. I gave him no time to suspect, I took her by the hand anfa led her up to him, "Rose Memerford!" I said. Had she 'come from the tomb ; he could not have been more affrighted. Ile turned livid, hriek, covered his face with hi% l ianished like a bottle-demon from he reader says that this return of e arly.victim at the - opportune mo .• i mprobable, I answer, that I do - II not write improbabilities, Lut facts. My tale exhibits ft pioral agency work*tig in the shape , of "Coincidences." The explanation of the improbability is this:—Wlien Mr. Faber de termined t 'protect Rose Ammerford, he in, terested ii her behalf an elderly lady of his i acquainta n ce, who was of an eccentric tern, but whobel eccentricity chiefly took the shape of benevolenge, She engaged Rose, first As a sort uft I%dY's maid, but scum become so attached t lier, from her goodness and natua ral abilities, that she made her her companion, develoriedliher • tastes, and improved her- .iw those acOmplushrnents which she. had beta taught as i e child. The• lady's ,passioq l was faitravelng. She seldom Jested anywhere for more than a few months. Rose always i accomparilel her; and frequently she hd 4r04 gave one s hands, and the house. Pei l imps Crayford'a_. moment is EMEI