The Tioga County Agitator: BY M. H. COBB. p ihli'hed every Wednesday morning and m/Viledto ‘ beriberi at OSTE DOLLAR AMD FIFTY ( ENTS Tear, always IH. ADVaKCB. ‘i P Xdo p ipsTifeoot postage free to county subscribers, ;aey may receive their mail at poßt-ofliccs lo cjtcii2 mantUs imme Lately adjoinipg, for conyen -s'tr.cc** . & j 2S Aatr.’.Tos is tEo Official paper oFTioga Co., cnl aitt'tiates in every neighborhood therein. Snb jptiens being on tho advance-pay system; it circa j, ts s am jag n class most to the interest of advertisers to reach- Terms to Advertisers as liberal as -tosc of. fero 1 r> jr an ." paper of etjual circulation in ? Vrthern Pennsylvania. :, A cross on the margin of a paper* jlenstes' fsst the subscription is about to expire. is . papers will be stopped when the subscription iitce expires, uulftss the agent orders their iiontinu &nce. ' 1 JAS. ILOtVBET & S. F. WILSOS, ATCORMEYS & COOtVSELLORS at' LAW, trill attend the Courts of Tioga, Potter and : ,j.- counties. [Wellsboro, Jan. I, If C3.J DfCEIKSON HOUSE, COEHIN9, tfT. T. M.u. A. FIELD, Proprietor. GUESTS taken'to and from the Depot free of charge. [Jan. 1; JS63.] P£NNS¥L¥A]tfIA HQIIS|!, corker or main street and the avenue, Pa j, TT. BIGONT, THI3 popular Hotel, having been ?e-fitted aad re-furnished throughout, is now open to the nablio as a house. [Jan.,l, 1663.] ' U, nAU^ t iV9'SBTCT'~*~~-' ■ WELLSBOEO, TIOGa CO. FEN'KA. THE subscriber takes this inform hi? old friends and’ customers that he has re isEed the conduct of the old “ Crj-staiaSTonntain Hotel,” and via hereafter give it his entireattention. Timntfal for past favors, ho Solicits a ronerral of the £ :me. DAVID I^ART. "■STcllihoTO, Nov. 4, 1863.-Iy. • • ij IZAAK AVALTOS HOU fe Gainae, Tiog-a County, Pa. j g C. VEBMILYEA,...'. Bri THIS is a new hotel located within; jay ac cess of the best fishing and huntinggr ends m Sorthorn Pennsylvania. No pains will he a iared for "to accommodation of pleasnre seekers and yjte trav ailing public. fJan. 1, ISG3.J A. F OILET, 'watches, Clocks, Jewelry, &c., fee., REPAIRED AT OLD PIECES. POST OFFICE BUILDING, NO. 5, UNION BLOCK. Wellsboro, May 20, XS63. 11 . . E. K. BLACEi ’ BARBER & HAIR-DRESSER, SHOP OVER C. L. iYItCOX'S STORE, • NO. 4, UNION BLOCK. Vcllsboro, June 24, 1863* . _ western exchange hotel. KNOXVILLE, BOROUGH, PA. fTIHE undersigned Laving leased tbo , above Hptcl J, tor a term of years would respectfully inform me traveling public that bebas put the Hjtel.in first Ci?iEs order for the reception of guests and no pains rill be spared in the accommodation of travelers and u far us tbe situation will allow, he will keep a first c ass Hold, in all things, except' prices, which will cc modciatc. Please try us and judge for yourselves. Knoxville, Oct. 19, 1564-tf. J. H. MARTIN. imucs & MEDICINES. :;o. s. uxioa block, wellsboro,. pa. P. R. • BIS 3 leave to announce to the citizens of IVells bero and vicinity, that he keeps constßtitl, on bend all kinds of • F DRUGS AND MEDICINES, Ctemicals, Tarnish, Paints, Soaps, Perfumery, Glass,- Brashes. Pu(ty, Fancy Goods, Pure Trines, Brandies, Gins, and ell other kinks of Liquors of the best quality. All kinds of • PATENT MEDICINES.! sack as Jayne's Expectorant, Alterative land Pills; Ayer’s Sarsaparilla, Pills and Cherry Pectoral; Helm bold’s Extract Bnchn, Sarsaparilla and Rose TTash ; Mrs. Winslow's Sothing Syrup; V,'right’s —Villa; Clerk’s and Chcesemnn’s Pills: Hall’s Balsptnj Bin ieger's London Dock Gin ; Herrick's Pills Snd-Plas :cr;; Crown’s Bronchial Troches, Ac., & LPS. Mansfield. Slay 2, 1884. ' P. JSEWJEEX, DEHTlsn^ MAXSFIELD, TIOGA COUXTZ'JPA-, 15 prepared to operate in all the improvements in the various departments of*filling, m f’.rting artificial dentures, 4c. ' « Mansfield, August 10, XBC4-Iy. - /♦, COWANESQPE DfCUSI^ This il-inse which has been open for coni inienoe of the traveling public for a number cl years, tu lately been newly furnished tbrQUgbout ai id fitted cp in c$ good sty lo as can bo found in any oolpntry or City Hotel. Tbe Proprioter does not horitaUln say ■eg that there will bo no pains spared to ad I to the V'v.fn-t of his guests,-and eaalto it.a home Ift them,' He best of stabling for teams; and a good .hostler t'ttaj’' ia attendance, all of which can he found etc mile east of Knoxville, Pa. s M. V. PURPLE, Proprietor. Deerfield, May 25, 1861.-ly. - * , ~ WELESBORO HOTEL (.Corner Main Street and the Aren-trc.) WcLLSBono, Pa. B. B. HOLIDAY, Proprietor. One of the" most popular Houses in tbe connty. Ttus Hotel is the pHncipal'Stalge-faouse in \fellBboro. Stages leave di.ily as follows: ' V For a t 9 *fm.; Por Troy, at Sa.d; For Jersey Shore every Tuesday and Friday m,j lor Cb'ulersport. every Tuesday and Friday p t m. Stages Arrive— From Tioga, at 12 „l-2; xfclock ?n.:'From Troy,at6 o’clock p. m.: From Jersey Tuesday and Friday 11 a. m.: Prom Tuesday and Friday II a. m. ' - - Jitnrhy Cowdcn, the well-known hcatler, * !il be on hand. , ' elltboroi Oct, 5,1854—1 - HUGH YOUNG* bookseller & sTATity, constantly on band and sent by mail; >r otb- to erder. - £ *O. 5, VSfO.V- BLOCfC, WELLSBOUO/TA RE?E!WJE STAMPS- A- URGE ASSORTMENT of Revenue Stomps •vA. of all denominations, just received at the First ■'Ujosl Bank of Wellsbdro, in the Store ibsilding "'id. L. Robinson. Persons wanting Stamps are * rr pjest to call and get a supply. ''ellibo'ro, May 25, 1564-tf. O-'FIiON.— Whereas, my wife, CAROLINE, has left mv bed and board without just Muse or ; f hereby forbid all persons barbdtinz or fsibeg Ltr ou my account, for I shall pay .ifl debt* contracting after this date., , CHARLES I. EOIHM. ««sbarg, Nov. 23,18M-3L ' VOL. SI. A'Ccsiftlata Pictorial History of iha Times. The best, cheapest, and most st-ccessful Family HARPER’S WEEKLY, .SPLENDIDLY ILLUSTRATED. ' _ Critical Notices if the Press. “The best family Paper published in the United States.” —New London Advertiser. “ Tbo model Xeicspapcr' of cur country—complete in all tbe-departments-of-an American Family Paper — Harper's lTce?:?y has earned for.itself a right to its title * a Journal of Ciciliz'itlon. > >r — N. T. Eve. Post, ' 1( This Paper furnishes the best illustrations; Our future, historians will enrich themselves out of Har per's Weekly long after writer?, and painters, and publishers arc turned to dust.”—JV. Y. Evangelist.. “ A necessity in-ever£ household." —Poston Trani ■■ns.HpU'*****™ ■ '~- * ’ 1 * ** It is at once a leading political and historical an nalist of the nation.”— Phila . Press. u The best of its class in America.” —Poston Trav eler. .Proprietor, §EBSCRS PTBONS—I66S. The publishers have perfected a system of mailing by which, they can supply the Magazine and Weekly promptly to'those who prefer to receive their periodi cals direefly from the Office of Publication. Post masters and others desirous of getting up Clubs will be .supplied with a handsome pictorial Show-bill on appUcat : o_n. The postage on Harper’s Wcckly is 20 cents a year, which.must be paid at the subscriber’s post-office. TERMS:— Harper's Weekly, one year, $4 00. An extra copy of either the Weekly or Magazine will be supplied gratis for.every Club of Five Sub scribers at $4 00 each, in one remittance; or Six Copies for $2O 00, Back Numbers can be supplied at any time.. The Annual Volumes of Harper’s Weekly, in neat cloth binding, will be sent by-express, free of expense, for $C each. A complete Set, comprising Eight Vol umes, sent on receipt of cash at the rate of of $4 5(1 per-vol., frieght at expense of the purchaser. Ad dress .. HARPER & BROTHERS, ''Unquestionably the best sustained work cf the land, in the World.*' HARPER’S HEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. Critical Notices of the Pi css. It is the foremost Magazine of tbe day. The fire side never bad a more delightful companion, nor the million a more enterprising friend, than Harper’s Magazine, —Methodist ProUntant (Baltimore). The moe£ popular Monthly in the world.—JVcio York Observer. We mast refer in terms of eulogy to the high toco and varied excellence of Eabi*ee’s. Magazine—a journal with a monthly circulation of about 170,000 copies—in whose pages arc to bo found seme of the choicest light and general reading of the day. We speak of this work as an evidence of the American People : and (he popularity it has acquired is merited. Each Number contains .fully 144 pages of reading matter, appropriately illustrated with good wood-cuts; and in itself tbe racy monthly and the more philosophical quarterly, blended with the best features of the daily journal. It-has great power in the dissemination of a love of pure literature.—Tbub sdb’s Guide to American titaature, London. . _ Tbe volumes bound constitute 'of themselves a li brary of miscellaneous reading such as can .not he feund in the same compass in any other publication that has come under our notice. —Boston Courier. su&scniPTZONS-iees. The Publishers have perfected a system of mailing byjMiich they can supply the Magazine and Week*' ly promptly to those wbojprofer to receive their pe riodicals directly from the Office of Publication, The postage on Harper’s Magatire-Is 24 cents a year, which mustbo.paid at the subscriber** poat-office. TERMS:— Haeper's Magaztxe, one year,S4 00. An extra copy of either the Magazine or Weekly will bo supplied gratis for every, Club.of Five Sub scribers at S 4 00 cacb, in one remittance; or Six Cop ies for $2O 00. Back Numbers can be supplied at any time. A Complete Set, now comprising Twenty-nino Vol umes, in neat cloth binding, will bo sent by express* freight at expense of purchaser, for $2 25 per volume. Single volumes, by mail, postpaid, $3 00. Cloth cases, for binding. 58 cents, by mail, postpaid. Address HARPER & BROTHERS, FranMiu Square, New York. November 16, ISO4-3t. . 13* & H. T- ASTHOWY & CO., Manufacturers of Phonographic Materials, WHOLESALE AM) JtETAIL, 501 BROADWAY, N. Y- In addition to onr main business of Photographic Materials, we are Headquarters for the following, viz; Stereoscopes & Stereoscopic Views, Of these wo have an immense assortment, including War Scenes, American arid Foreign Chits and Land scapes, Groups, Statuary, Aq., Ac. Also, Revolving Stereoscopes, for public or private exhibition. Our Catalog re will bo sent to. any address on receipt of ■Stamp. PHOTOGRAPHIC ALBUMS. , Wo were the first to Introduce those info the United States, and we manufacture immense quantities in great variety, ranging in price from SOlcents to S5O each. Our ALBUMS have the reputation of being superior in beauty and durability to any others. They twill be sent by mail, free, on receipt of price. J - Fino Albums made to order. CARD PHOTOGRAPHS Onr Catalogue now embraces over Five Thousand different subjects (to which additions are continually being made) of Portraits of Eminent Americans, <£e.,. viz: about J 100 Major-Generals, 550 Statesmen, 200 Brig.-Gcnerais, 130 Divines, 275 Colonels, 325 Authors, . ICO JUeuL-Colonels, .40-Actlsts, - 2pOfOtlier Officers, 125 Stage, 75 Navy Officers, 50 Prominent Women, 150 Prominent Foreign Portraits.' 3,000 COPIES OF WORKS OF AET, including reproductions of the most celebrated En gravings, Paintings, Statues, Ac. Catalogues sent on receipt of Stamp. An,order for One Dozen PIC TURES from our Catalogue will be filled on the re ceipt ol Sl.fiOj.and sent by mail. free. Photographers and others ordering goods C. 0. D. will please remit twenty five per cent, of the amount with their order. E. A H. T. ANTHONY A CO., Manufacturers of Photographic Materials, 501 Broadway, New York. fs!s~ The prices and quality of our goods cannot fail to satisfy. [Nov. 16,1 SG-f-iy.] AU iH'I'UH’H NOTICE. —The undersigned hav ing been appointed an Auditor to distribute the funds in bands of Administrator of Jacob Babb, de ceased, will attend to the duties of said appointment on FRIDAY, the 9th day of December, 1864, at the Commissioners' Office, in Weilsboro, at 2 o'clock P. At. Nov. 16,1854. THOS. ALLEN, Auditor. CAUTION. —Whereas, my wife SANORA, has left my bed and board without any just cause, nr provocation; I hereby forbid ail persons harboring or trosting her on my account, as X shall pay no debts of her contracting after this date. "his MARTIN SjfTEVENS. Witness present, D. G, Stevens. mark. Middlefcury, Nov, 9,15C4. AN Assortment of TABLE GLASSWARE willbe found at ROY’S DRUG STORE. * Abates u tM.&tmnim of tlie &t*ea of jFm&om mtf t|je Spread of Reform. TTHILE THERE SHALL BE A WRONG UNKIGHTED, AND UNTIL “MAN’S INHUMANITY TO MAN” SHALL CEASE, AGITATION MUST CONTINUE. Paper in the Union." Eranklin Square, New Xork. WELLSBORO, TIOGA COUNTY, PA., WEDNESDAY MORNING, DECEMBER 7, 1864. select IJoetvg. FAUST TO MABO-UEEITE, Wild visions, bom of mem'ry and remorse. Recall tby rained beauty, Marguerite I And I behold thee still before me glide, Pols os the vision of Walpurgis night I And onco again I see the wild sad ayes Whose last gaze turned from mo to geek the skies, Marguerite i t And-then tbo vision changes. I behold Thee pure aqg) fair as when I saw thee first, Ere yet tbo fiend and X had stay'd thy stops, ' And thrilled thy heart with words and locks ac cursed. ~ Alas ! the sweet month.l ehrdl kiss no > T ’ The golden hair that swept] tho prison floor, Marguerite! Again the dream doth change. I see again Tb'e wondrous vision of tbe witches' cave; "Where fiendish art called up thy gentle form, And to my dazzled eyes thy beauty gave. And then I wake to know thou art no more; That peace and hope and love for me are o'er. Marguerite! And thou didst love me—yes, the last on earth, For mortal dove shall never more be thine. What have I left me now ? Remorse, despair— The fiends companionship Instead of thine. My past all sin ; my present—misery; Hell for my future. Woe, ah woe ie me, i Marguerite! ‘There’s blood upon my hands ,* it does not weigh So heavy upon my soul as thine undoing. , His sword met mine—hie rage aroused my wrath I . 5 Wbat badst thou done that I should work thy ■ ruin ? 1 No'compacfc 'twist ua did tbe demou need ,* My soul was lost by that on© unblast deed, ; Marguerite! And even Death will reunite ns not, That last hope sad hearts cherish is not mine. The awful gulf that never may be cross’d Will separate for aye my soul from thine. Yet on© blest thought amid despair doth live : If Heaven willhot, thou wilt, I know, forgive, Marguerite ! One other ray of light illumes my lot, One dream of mercy on roy heart is graved— The mcm'xy of that strange mysterious voice. Heard in the last dread hour, u Stiela saved!” Yes, I can bear my fate, whate’er it be,* Let Hell be mine, if Heaven has place for thee, , Marguerite! Pray for me, Marguerite ! lam so lost And so accurs’d, my lips are locked from prayer, Canst thou not give me back to hope and Heav’n, Me, who but gave thee ruin and despair ? .In yonder sky where thou dost sunder free, Ask God if there be mercy still for mo. Marguerite J FROM DARKLESS TO LIGHT. A Secret from the Sycs of Death. I bad but a few months longer to remain at College when I was sent for, in consequence of the serious illness of my mother. On reach ing home I found that Fanny was staying there and during this time we were necessari ly a great deal together. My sister was occu pied in attendance on our mother, and could not often accompany us in our walks. Under other circumstances I might have seen so ma ny different faces, have bad so many visits to make, and have found so much amusement in field sports and in talking with my father re specting alterations and improvements abont She estate, that I should have'had comparative ly few opportunities of associating with my_ cousin. As it was, we were in each other’s so ciety for hours daily. 1 The result of this con stant assoeiation was, that I become passion ately attached to her ; and when my mother had recovered so far as to be out of danger, and I was about return to oxford, I obtained from her the acknowledgment that my love was returned, and I left her with the understand ing that when I had taken my degree tbe day of our marriage should be fixed. If ever there was a man in the world who for ward with undoubting confidence to a life of happiness I was that man. My father and mother were both favorable to oor marriage, and there was no conceivable obstacle to op pose our wishes. The only person whom Fin ny had to consnlc was her aunt, and there was nothing to fear from any objections on her part. I do not suppose you remember, even if yon ever heard, that this aunt of hers was very rich. She had adopted Fanny and her brother when they were mere children, their father .having been drowned in the when that vessel went down in the Bay of Biscay. Fan ny’s brother I bad never seen. His conduct was so bad at Eton that he was expelled from that school, and so disgusted his aunt that she refused to allow him to live with her, and he was sent to St. Omer to finish his education there. He left St. Omer without giving any reason, and went to Italy, living on the allow ance-that his aunt made him. In.his letters .he spoke only of the occupations and amuse ments of the various courts and cities he vis ited, and the frequency with which he wrote to his aunt mollified her feelings towards him so far as to induce her to increase bis allowance ; biit she said she had vowed that her whole for tune should go to her niece on her death, and nothing would induce her to break this solemn resolution. Complete happiness is better than all the cramming in the world in helping a man to read for his,degree. 1 was up early in the morning and onj the river* and had a long day after wards for study. As I was leaving chapel one morning a familiar voice said, i“ Good morning, Mr. Alfred,” and a hand was held before me with a letter. I was so surprised, that, before I took the letter, I looked at the speaker, and a chill came over me when I saw that it was the groom who waited upon me when I was at home. .Telling him to go to my rooms,' I went back into the chapel, which was now emj ty, and opened the letter'. It was written by my father; and after exhorting me to bear the painful news he had to give me like a man, he told me brieflly that Fanny had disappeared on the firevioos morning, and that they had been seating her all night in vain. On read ing this letter I rushed to toy rooms, threw off my cap and gown, arid, within a quarter of an hoot "was driving homewards. My first’ question, as I jumped oat of the gig and took my father’s hand was, “ Have yon found her 1” Hie answer was in the negative. He told mo BT LUCY HAMILTON HOOP£R. she had gone out alone before breakfast, as usual, and had not been seen since, though she had been sought for in every place. It may have been a year or more before this that I had taken a great interest iu photo graphy, and there was not a picturesque spot abput the estate or near it I had not photo graphed. During my mother’s illness it was my chief amusement ; and, accompanied by my cousin and a man to carry the apparatus, I had spent whole days in practicing an art which, to me, bad all the. charm of novelty.— I, remembered well all the spots which had moat pleased her, and where wa had after wards walked, most frequently. Too impa *tiept to .regulate my pace by my father’s, I called to my groom to come with me, and set off to search those places beyond the lim its of the estate which we had liked most. I had searched several of these without success, and bad got as far the Beeches, when I suddenly recollected that (here was a place called “ Clay Hollow,” about two miles dis tant, This, was a very lonely spot, but com manded'a beautiful view, .and had bean a fa vorite walk of ours since wo bad discovered it. Wondering why I had not thought of it before, I set out for this place. The path way, which led into the hollow, (wound thro’ furze and broom, and cams out behind a" re markably fine old oak. I had i|o need to look further. Beneath this oak Itiy tbs dead body of the woman with whom I had ex pected to share a long life of happiness. ■ If-this had happened but an hour ago, I should not have a more vivid recollection of what I felt as I looked at the widely open ed glazed eyes and the distorted .features which I had last seen full of-life and anima-l lion. The body was carried home and laid! in the great ball, and a surgeon was sent for, who, after a brief examination, told ns, what I had seen- already, that she had been strangled. No other motive for the murder except rob bery oonld be suggested; but whether she had been robbed or not nobody could tell, as at that early hour of the morning it was not like ly she could have anything about her which anybody could steal. There was indeed a brooch missing from her shawl, but this was afterwards picked up among the grass. The necessary legal formalties were gone though the nest day, and a verdict of “ Wilful Murder” against some person or persons unknown was returned. As soon as the crowd of individ uals concerned in the inquiry had departed, and I was alone with my father and the surgeon (my sister having been sent, as soon as Fanny’s body was discovered, to her aunt to inform her of the dreadful loss we had sus tained), I requested the latter to come with me to the.hall. Perfect lova.e voludea every other feeling. I felt no shrinking horror at the sight of the dead body of my betrothed.— Night and day I had remained beside the corpse ; and it was while looking at the eyes, so changed since the mind had ceased to look ont of them, that an idea occurred to me which I bod immediately determined to put in execution as soon as the official in vestigation was over. The idea was, that a photograph of the retina of the eye might be magnified so as to present a distinct image of the last object depicted • upon it. Every object on the retina during life endures for a time, and is succeeded and effaced by anoth er. The duration of the image on the reti na is, however, influenced by various causes. If the eye-is directed towards a very bright ly-illuminated object the impression made up on the retina is so strong that when the eye is turned towards a light-colored surface the dazzling object is still visible; but, instead of appearing bright, it is represented darkly, as though it were the shadow of that object. The duration of the image is also affected by the humors contained iu" the eye. When death is caused by strangulation the eye be comes charged with a viseious secretion, which is not withdrawn, but coagulates and har dens, so to speak, as vitality is expelled, and the last image impressed on it is retained pre cisely as the picture is retained on the pho tograph which the light has printed on it with the most delicate gradations of tone. These and similar reflections induced me to determine to put tho conclusions I bad arrived at to the test. With this view I requested tho surgeon to remove one of the eyes from its socket. From this I took a great number of photographs on glass, and then .gave it back to him that ho might restore it to its place.— Those pictures were, of course, very much smaller than the eye itself, and it was there fore necessary to devise a method of enlar ging them. No very profound knowledge of the effects produced by a combination of len ses was required to point out the means of accomplishing this. I caused) one of the rooms to be made totally dark; and an open ing to he made in the" boards which were nailed over the window just large enough to admit a single ray of light. This ray was. made to pass through a succession of lenses, and also through the glass on which the photo graphic image was printed, a sheet of prepa red paper being fixed to receive the magnified image, and record it in ineffaceable characters. Conceive, if yon can, th« intense anxiety with which I wailed for the development of the hidden secret. The day- was unusually dull and wet, but circumstances which delay ed tho reproduction of the image, hour after hour dragged'ilung till the day ended, and the result was just sufficiently evident to prove that a face was growing out of the paper. I heard persons knocking at the door, hut I took no heed of them; I felt neither hunger nor the want of sleep, but sat there on the floor through the long, long riight, which seemed as if it would never come to an end, till I was half maddened by my eagerness and the fear that the murderer might have time to es cape beyond the reach of discovery. I thank ed God with all my so il when the first faint indicatiop came of returning day light. The morning sun shone full an the window, and I saw, with inexpressible satisfaction, that the light was fat more vivid than on the preceding day. By slow, very slowdegrees—for it is not with these enlarged representations-as with small ones—tho face became more and more defined. What mixed feelings of horror, rage, and grief filled my mind while this likeness of the murderer crept slowly, but steadily, from darkness into light. It seemed as it were a phantom from the world beyond gradually as suming the solidity of an inhabitant of the earth. At last I had before me the portrait of the last human being on whom her eyes had rested. It was that of a man, young, .with good fea tures ; but with an- indescribable expression of mingled terror and ferocity in his face. This, to some extent, served as a disguise ; hut the features were too strongly marked for it to pre vent any person who knew the origins! from recognizing me. I showed it to my talfier, and he had a vague impression that he had seen a person resembling it somewhere, hot that was all.* I then rode with it to the police station, and put it into the hands of tho superintend ent. All the constables were called in, but they all declared that they had never seen a person about the country resembling the por trait. Leaving this in bis possession, 1 took another likeness, which I myself showed to every individual, old and young, for miles around. All onr researches were fruitless. Nobody had seen a person resembling the portrait; a circumstance the more mysterious that it was not that of a person who would be likely to pass unnoticed. The only plausible suggestion to account for this was made by the superin tendent—namely, that the man, whoever he was, had come across the fields from- the rail way station, and had returned the same way; but inquiries made at the station failed to con firm the idea. The continual sight of the effigy of the mur derer me out of my senses. My brain was so far affected that I was incapable of applying myself, to anything, and I believe nothing saved me from going raving mad but tho conviction that I should one day discover the murderer. To search for him was my sole occupation. In theatres, on the race-course, at railway stations —everywhere where men con gregated I sought him. I saw neither the amusements nor the business ; nothing but fa ces. The death of my mother, which at any other time would have affected me deeply, came so soon after the other calamity that I hardly felt it. Month after month ! wandered up and down the streets of London from morning to night, avoiding no place, however infamous, where there was a chance of finding the rnanof whom I was in search. My quest was interrupted for a time by a letter from my sister, sutnon iug me home. My father was very ill, and no hope was held out of his recovery. When all was over the medical man suggested that I . might be more snccessfulin finding my cousin's murderer If £ went on the continent. I thought him right. I went to Paris, thence to Baden, and through all the German watering-places. From Berlin I went to Vienna, and from that city to Venice, having been drawn to the latter place by a paragraph in a newspaper stating that the city was thronged with foreigners. I was always supplied with letters of introduc tion to persons in every place I visited. The first I presented on the rooming after my arri val in Venice was to Count Frasini, who, before we parted, gave me an invitation to a ball to come off in the evening. Tbe Count occupied a palace facing the square of St. Mark, a very 1 large building, which on this evening was crowded with visitors. I had seated myself on a balcony outside the ball room, from whence I could see all who approached the Countess to pay their respects, I dare soy it was close upon midnight when I saw two gentlemen making their way towards the spot where the Countess was seated conversing with the young Arch dnfce Maximilian, and the commander of the Austrian troops. The taller of the two bent his head so frequently that I was unable to get a distinct view of his face; but the partial glimpse I gotofSit from time to time convinced me that I had at last found the man I had been so long seeking. I re-entered the room ; but just as I did so he seemed to think it would be hopeless to.attempt to reach the Countess, for he turned suddenly to the right, passed through a doorway, and disappeared. Little as I heed ed who I thrust aside in crossing the room, it took mo so long to make my way through the crowd of visitors that when I reached the stair case the man of whom 1 was in pursuit had reached the street, I rushed down the stairs, and found that they led me to a small door, which likewise opened into the square ; but it was not that by which I bad entered, which was at some distance and surrounded by ser vants and boatmen. I looked eagerly about tbe square, uncertain which way to pursue, when suddenly I saw a bright flash at the fur therest corner of the square, as though some body was lighting a cigar. The distance be tween us was ao great that I could only imag ine it to be the man I was Neverthe less, I rushed across the square as fast as I could run.towards him. I overtook him as he was leaning over a bridge which crossed one of the canals, looking down ( at the water. I seized him by the arm with my left hand, and with my right I grasped el handful of his clothes, I could not speak fur tbe moment, so great was my excitement; and just as I was about my voice for help, I felt a sharp pain and a descent through the air, followed by a sensation of extreme cold. After this I was half conscious of a cry that an assassin was in the water, and then I seemed to fall asleep. A long sleep it'must have been, for it was five weeks afterwards before I knew that I had been thrown into a canal, from whence I had been taken by acme boatmen who were close to me, with their gondolas, where I had fallen. Ae soon as I had recovered my strength sufficiently to move about my room, (for the wound I had re ceived was more painful than dangerous,) I told that I must consider myself in custody, the boatman, who gave me over :o the officials, having told them that I was attempting to com mit a robbery on a gentleman, vhen his two servants seized me, and in tbe scuffle wounded me, and I jomped into the canal. I sent for Count Frasini and told him of wbat had happened. He soon settled the mat •ter with the police; but although I showed the portrait of his guest, he was unable to identify Rates of Advertising. Advertisements will be charged slper square of It lines, one or three insertions, and 25 cents for every subsequent insertion. Advertisements of less than 10 linee considered as a sqaare. The subjoined rate* will bo charged for Quarterly, Half-Yearly and Yearly advertisements; 3 siosras. 6 aoSTHS. 12 aoNXsa 1 Square, $4,00 $5,73 $7,60 2 do 8,00 8,25 18,00 2 do 8,75 10,75 12,60 i Column, 10,00 12,00 15,75 4 do 18,75 25,00 31,50 1 do. 30,00 42,00 60,00 Advertisements not having the nnmher of inser tions desired marked upon them, will bo published until ordered out and charged accordingly. Posters, Handbills, Eiil-Heads, Letter-Heads, and all kinds of Jobbing done in country establishments, executed neatly and promptly. Justices', Constable's and other BLANKS, constantly on hand. . NO. 16. the original, “ which,” said he, “is not sur prising, considering the number of strangers who are here, and that any of my friends are privileged to bring as mapy of their friends to our parties as they choose, without the ceremo ny of an introduction.” I did not lose courage even under this dis-* appointment: on the contrary, the conviction that I must one day discover the murderer be came stronger than aver. The first use I mads of my renewed strength .was to resume my search in Venice, but to no purpose ; and when all hope of finding him here was gone I trav eled to Rome. At this city I found an accu mulation of, letters from, my sister.. They spoke of~the satisfactory way in which the bai- - liff, who had served my father for many years; , managed the estate, of a great many matters of 1 less importance, and urged me strongly to re turn home. The strongest motive she had for desiring my return, she said very little about. Nor did I, in my then state of mind, feel much interested in it. She wanted to consult me re specting an offer of marriage she had received from Fanny’s brother, who had returned to England and become reconciled to his aunt. I answered her letter, telling her that, if she, liked to accept him as her husband, I could have no reason for objecting to him ; that she had better act in the way most agreeable to her inclinations, subject to Her aunt’s approval,- and that I would endeavor to reach England in time to be present at her wedding. Having written thus, I ‘dismissed tho matter from my mind and continued' my wanderings. I shall not weary you by specifying any more of the cities I visited. I had heard that my sister was married and was very happy; and in ut ter weariness and despair of succeeding in again meeting with Eanny’s murderer, I resol □ed to come hack her(l for a time. I left London about! noon, aod on reaching the station where the journey ended, told the porter to put my luggage in a safe place till I should send for it. I bad not taken the trouble to write to my sister to say on what day I ehonld come, so, as I was not expected, I took my way across to the old oak tree beneath which the body had been found. I sat there bhfied in thought a long time, and, soon after turning into the lane on my way to the honse, I met a woodman with whom I had spent days in felling trees. He was so anxious that I should go to his cottage to see his wife, who had been nursemaid in our family when I was a child, that I walked with him there. I stayed there some time, listening to what they had to, say of changes about the estate, and of per sons I had once known, but whose names I had then almost forgotten. On leaving them I fonnd that it was so late that I pushed bay way through a hedge to get to the house by a shor ter way than by following the corriaga road. By going this way I had to pass through a wood ; and directly I stepped out from beneath the trees I saw crossing the field, about a stone's throw distant from me, a man carrying a gun. I stepped out briskly to overtake him. The land had been newly plowed, so that he - did not seem to hear my steps till I was close to him, when be turned and we stood face to face. The son was going down? and he bad to bend his head a little to look at me. My heart for an instant ceased to beat. There before me —his face inclined exactly as it was in the pho tograph—stood the murderer I had been seek ing for so many years. He no doubt recog nized me, for he looked as inanimate as though ho bad suddenly turned to stone. As soon as the shock bad passed, I rashed at him and sei zed- him with both hands. “ Murderer 1" I said, “ You do not escape as at Venice.” Ho offered no resistance at first, and I looked to see if there was anybody near that I could send to the police station to bicTthe constables coma to fetch him away. He may have understood why I withdrew my eyes from him, for he re covered his strength instantaneously, and seiz ed me by the throat. He was far stronger than I, and 1 felt mpself tossed hither and thither; but I clang to him notwithstanding. I tried as I wrestled with him, to throw him, hot I could get no foothold on the uneven ground, and it was he who succeeded in* forcing me backwards to tna earth. Still, I hold him, but he could now press my throat with full force; and it was I who now had to straggle to save my own life. My head seemed to be swelling to a monstrous size, and this was the last thing ! I remember.' I lay in the field all that night. In the morn ing I was seen by the man who came to finish the ploughing, and be, with the help of the keepers, carried me home. I was quite,unable to move ; but I had a dreamlike consciousness of what was being done. By the time I waa laid on'the bed I had recovered so far aa to be able to speak ; and the first words I spoke were an order for a man to ride as hard aa he could go to the police-station, and bring back with him the superintendent. My sister came to my bedside as the man left the room. We were always strongly attached to each other ; but I waa surprised to see her so agitated by, as 1 supposed, the attack on me. Her eyes were red and swollen, and she looked so worn and pale that I feared she waa ill. Af ter answering her questions with respect to myself, I said — “You were with our aont when I made those photographs of poor Fanny’s murderer, and have never seen one, have you ? I thought * not," I continued; “but if you open the pocket-book which is in the breast-pocket of my coat you will see it.” She opened it, took out the portrait, and, looking at it, said, “ This is not it. This is my husband’s portrait. Where did you gat it?” “Your husband I Fanny’s brother I—her murderer !” I stammered. The truth flashed upon our minds at the same instant. For several hours' she remained totally in sensible ; and when at last she became con scious, she talked incoherently, and has not since recovered tbs use of her reason. I was thankful, when I was told that the su perintendent had arrived, that I had not had time or opportunity to mention to anybody but my sister the causa of my being found insensi ble. Leaving it to be inferred that it was doe to a sudden illness, I gave the superintendent to understand that I bad sent for him to direct" a search after my brother-in-law, who bad not