WRLIN & SLOAN, PUBLISHERS. VOLUME 24. 1115'1E88 DIRECTORY MA S. GRAVE S . . no , g in ehieturer—Manulhetory of the corner of ;y Yer Erie, Pa., The bigheat prire will be paid • r fari-4,11. DR S. C. BROWNa. ec bed9T. South sda:of the Palate Square, he • . ePoac Streeta Nria Pa. • st , „ o, rEei t9T - L YPE LIKENRSSES FOR I DOLLAR K H. ABELL. t..ntris Arun: Roam Over the Erie Bank, Smith. I. limmatia. Ere, Pa. •icvirJ Woe iu the beet style of the are, sod fade. T 1). h NIAFIDS of. Caarzt.Lon st Law. Warren Ps- Pre - ant reflections will receive prompt 1) U WALKER :& CO., proluet and Commission *Masts, fourth }floe west utthe Public Bridge, Brie Pa. ,—localen m Coal, Salt, Plaster, Stueee, Fish, Lime Stone. Irun.liails, Stoves. Castings, de. with _. l , l . f sed faeditiri for Aipping either Ly steamboats, or lay Ra r .i . WALKYR, 110111113 S. - (JA ILVN viT OD Co !ISZLIMI AT LAW, pace • on pinnA CL, e E+ - ..f the Park, Erie. T. W. MOORE, , _ . • r Pro% ,ions, Wines,•Liquora, Candies, :, sr line tooth h Stewart's State-et. (14., rice. of Store., Hpli,m Wart, iko n ., gi a „ Kulp. I C..,xs. etc.. Slate SL, Ene Pa. • • I Litt uP TIIF. FIRM .1F U. LOOMIS k ('U.) rr Clo•ks. Watches, Jewelry, Silver .Spans, 1,-trcedlts, 4Lueking Glasses, Larps and Fa i ry e•alo and rrtail. - _ H. JARECICI. we side4lStrite Street, Erie, PR. i ftifiVaLSat. CO.' nY TUC mar (~ W 41.1( SR A TIIIIIAAR• )icriMm , i o Cl and Shipping !defoliants, and deal- Fl.ur. Fish, Salt, Water Line, Plaster, D , es. Erie, Pa. Packages iuteuded fur our rare ;Li • o. marked. A. J. ICRIAMJ. .1: B. GUNNISON, Stationary, Monthly Magasines, Cheap eau. n•. Sheet Music, Newspapers, Uold Pens, Pock „:. n dc, First door west of the Reed home. Erie. BOOTH & STEW ART;- .t•kLE It, tail Dealers in Fancy and staple Dry Millitc , ry, No. 6, Poor People's 11.0w, , ,pposite '• 11, tel. • LILIDELL, KEPLER & CO. ra • Iron Fence, Railing, Alva= Boilers. F.re Pis,of Strutters, and adpcinds of Machi ,,,ol Castings, &c., done to order, & METCALF, •uearrd retail dealers in Dry tioodi, Carpet... awl No. 1 Reed house. JOHN - 13. COOK, • -taple & Fancy Dry tiombi. tool the.tireateet %a . inv sane in the etty, Cher 'de, Erie, Pa. STERRETT & G AY, j,i,bers and retail Deslerein wet and dry - tiro '-'1•••‘ atom". Produce. Fore and Domestic Fruit,' 11 o• and Stone Ware, Flour, Fish. Salt, (Hasa, ader, Shot, Cap, Safety Flaw, &c., &e., French the Reed Home, Erie, Pa. rlta and Canal Boats, Vessels, Hotels, and —applied with any the above articles mptneFs and very cheap. WM. S. LANE, c,INSELLOR-at LAW.--016ee over Jackson's rth-Exit corner of the Pab , ie ARBI'CK_LE & KEPLER, D r) Groceries', Hardware. Crockery, Le. State street. Erie. Pa. •- . DR. C. BRANDES, uni •t at.ros—Office at his residence on Eighth -v.s• r. Free& and Holland, Eris, Pa. CO - FORD &" Hank Notes, Drafts, Cenifastes Neu Exchange on the principal cities • •i:r. Office in Beaty'.. Blt.ek, Pnblir T HERON STUART, g_i Pn sh i4N—Residence un Fourth •• trees, uni• Apothecary Hall. - - • HIT - US REED, En;liyh, German and American. Hardware and Ai,. Nails, Anvils, Vices, Iron and Steel Na. 3 Ene, Pa. CADWELL & BENNETT, Jobbers, and Retail Dealers in Dry Dowd& liru ockery, Glassware Carpeting Hardware Iron, -4 16, Spikes, a.r. EutpiT Store, State Street. bo Browne ow Bwn's Hotel, 'rie, Pa. Ctre~. Belles ., Axle Anne. Spring". and n ,rtateat of Saddle atoll Carriage Tnmmingr S. 3I RVIN SMITH, , • Liw and Justiee of the Peace, and Agent f.tr Mutual Life th,arenee Company —Ocoee t ~t Wright', store. Erie, Pa. GEORGE li. CUTLER, Law. Oirard, Erie County, Po. Collections . . I .s-h.s• attended to with protntuess and dis- JOSIAH KELLOJG, Ind Cotamiri.,n MPrrhnnt. op did Public -4 , 42ite strobt. i'.a•ter and White Fish, esosstantiv smi, _ J.G. & W. . MILL 4, ml Wi&sale Dealers in Groeerier. —ALA , ' Foreign Fruit, Nat., PieSleit and '7eprr. Lobsterr, PrePorreg. and Hermeeriently ~f every description "away* on hand. No. let ?taste-st,. 4pposite Brown'e NeW Pa. ' i ' lu.t. Snit lerk. W. I. Mitts, Bugs Jo. tang in - tboir !mann ' Oynere in ,hell , = hum J. 5,5 New Turk. which will h e wad MEE A. C. JACKSON, Ag't. Erie. Ps CAP:TER Si. BROTHER, LA E , dealers in Drugs, 41edieisfe, Paints, atse, Le., No. 6, Reed House, 'Erre. JAMES LYTLE, - illt.unt Tailor, on the puhlie equate. a few . ,treet, Erie. JOHN BURTON di co. Alp RE T•IL .I, 3,Ient in brut", lifsdisio"e9 D. :i, newillouse, Erie. DIVLIN Nchu.4 and Miseellatnana nooks, .a,edPrinter's Cards, No. 9, Thirst. Erie PA. iI).7 OR S - STEW A KT, ' Ptyi.rians and Suwon:. 016eit and Realden- ,r,dl sadrbTarras :iterate. • ' -:•• from 7to A... 11: ItO Y. and 6 toy. P. M. JOHN • fLkt •Tuntiou Merchants , dealer in in C. I aL at, I !ter t for a daily liar of Upper Lake • boak Erie, Pa. EXPILIKSS COMPANY, it•!M.ved to ft Reed Blaek, State Street. 0 10141 at A. M. 31 o'clock, P. It J. MORTON, Cruunirsion Merchant, Public Doak. Erie. L. Salt, Wish, Flour mad Plaatcr. ItOZNNSWEIG , k CO. DitALZRK in Foreign and ponies ";'"'io• r , s4l)ltaade duelling, Bouts and Shoes, &e. Elude, State tired, Me. NINON - St, — 1' op entire in Tainowiny Han • -b of do* Prothonotary's °Mee, NIURf ItTYWII.4.LLON; Cur sAAJAOII AT LAW-01110e *Ter Irr.tht'e eetranee one door welt err State meet, Erie. RAYFA,", Dry Goesle, Dry Groeerir-, Cmeelney,2llard " Browts'o New Hotel. trif:TACKEON; I L Dry eluu.e ! , unveries, hardware, Queene Ware, n. Nade r.. 121. Cheapaide, Erie. Pa. Wl, THORNTON. - '- xoTi.sts rgelego• r+.l,r-temente, Butds GPABeir ftiy and carefully drawn. ,01602. 11 1u4 qrret, Erie, Oa. - - M. CMAPIX, Raseedrr Dcsure-4.)Mee iA tke Eopire Murk, ronitt oC iseteuud Yirth Street, up stain. Perris wields*, sad wrented., o.‘ TT, Resident Demist: °Mee std IliWen111( es the South side et the Piddle / the Ind Seek Building. TOoth Pia*, from isit Msa ex** set Cari ` 1 " 41, Pine thdd, sad festered uelpiuldt sad us es* e. T.Otil timed id* Imientasau sok Doubt se go TO %en at *hid Esieesasse. Art emir 'nor masa , . . • . f , .. . , , . . • , , . , . .. , .. J . . , Y , . ~t.,•. ...,..,4:: ~„ \ ... . ~ , , , 0 SE 4. , . ititct Vottrn. ♦ SORG FOR TSB ;BARON IT CLIIA:L. SrIOAT. • - - AU through the valley.eweet music was sounding, Ringing the praise of the beautiful day. Light through the valley a young child was bounding: 'Twas dear little Spring, with the flowers at play. Schoolmaster Winter looked back at the singing —"Child. I will teach the a lesson to-day:" c But Spring at the primer a sunbeam flinging. loony old Winter strode frowning away. bh, welcome to all Wes the little new comer, And happy each wight in her favor to share; S. lovely the grew that they christened her "S'usumer," , And thought she had wandered from Paradise there. , 'Tis shameful," growled Winter, "that she should he spending In mirth and music the minutes so rare; But matters of moistest prevenOny attending, So trusty aunt Autumn a message stud, bear!" CM:urine and 86in as the mandate that bore her d Dreary . aunt Autumn mule forth to the dsi:N And folding her minty gray mantles around Harshly Awaited the maid in her play. 'Tremble aad:weep for thy: joy's fading glimmer: Dark is the leijMn read thee t. , -day." But while Autumn collected dead leaves for a primmer sweet merry Summer olippad Langhing away. Qt oicC IStflhinn. AMMO LEE ; OR THE S BY ELLEN LOVlslr ; CHANDLER Six months after this; I woke up one spring morning, and found myself in London. Ido not know how I got , there; that is, even at this day, I can hardly .understand the perseverance with which I, an unprotected child, .walked the whole distance, seeking food and lodging of who• ever had charity enough to shelter me. Provi dence must have guided me, and I think so won• than ever, - when I recall it singular incident which, befell me on my arrival. It wits afternoon when I entered the grclat whirlpool of Londod. Half 'frightened by the crowded btreets, I had' somehow .made my way to the park, and, for almost the first time in my life, I sat there crying. At last I was roused front my sorrowful abstraction by a gentle touch arid a kind voice, and, looking up, I met the glance of a middle-aged gentleman; clad in a quiet, eitizen'ilbkit of black. There needed but one glance it has kindly face to assure me I could trust him, and his question, "What is your name, my 'child, and why are,you • hero 'Use!" was immediately followed by my unfolding to him my whole history, save only that part which I was connected with Ilorace Mann. "So you've come all :dose to this far-of Lou don, ito• legn to be a balkt-dancerr he said, kindly. "I must Ray, it w:ts a very strange un dertaking, and the chances that you would suc ceed, were hardly one in ten thousand. - How ever, you could not have coots to a better friend. I am a theatre manager myself, and Uli try you, and if I find you can do any thing, I will take you to a friend•of wine in Paris, where I am go ing on business, and von shall he educated for the stage." Thus it was, reatler. that my first eight in London was passed at a respcetable lodging house, and I woke up in Ow mornimr from peace ful dreams, under the mighty shadow of St. Paul's l My protector proceeded, soon after arose, to put Me through a trial course• of calis thenics, and 1 suppose the `result was satisfacto ry, for a dress-maker was sent foi, and requested to prepare for me a suitable wardrobe for a jour-1 nay to France, and a residtinre at the French' rerole tie theatre Two years had passed; I was fifteen. They had been two of the happiest year, otinv True, at first confinement bad been irksome. had missed the wild, wailing, solitary sea, and pre free range of rocky shore. Hut tuy great purpose was every day growing nearer its accom plishment. My kind protector had visited me several times, when business called him to France, and it would have done your heart good, to see - his kind, satisfied smile, when he received ii favorable report of my progress. It had 'been discovered, in process-of my in structions, that I had a voice of unequaled power and pathos and that Ishonld be able to succeed as a singer, with even less trouble than as a dan cer, but I had marked out a different course.— . I could not consecrate every gift to the insatia ble spirit of the stage. I must retain some pow ' er, ant thus prostituted, to make beautiful my private life. However, 1 cultivated my voice moat assiduously, and was in a short time pro trounced the best singer in "/'(role." There were, in the same institution, a large number of young girls, more or less gifted, pre paring for the stage; but among them all I bad but o+ friend—lnez Vaughan. She has since, under another name, made the world's heart throb strangely. She flashed, emet-like upon the age—the very impersonation ..1 the gen i us of Tragedy. The great world held its breath to listen, but comet-like, she was struck down sud denly, and the Provenee roses bhson up,,n her gravel. I eould easily discern that there were no oth ers,. whale acquaintance would not rather retard the accomplishment of my great end; but lne and I 'bet:Pane friends in that word's truest . sense. We studio sl and read together, and she would sir beside Ilte, her dark eyes lashing-like lighted coals, while I told her strange wild tales of the rocky shore and the surging restless sea. But, as I was Baying, I was fifteen. My two jots' study had been completed, and the night Was a printed for me to,inake my debut at the \ Royal Irlicatre. I had grtiwn very beautiful, readier—no one who had known me as Mtp ing child of the fisherman's hut would have,rec; op,nized me now.. My hair was long and heavy, sad I luxuriant ,as ever, but now, it was satin s4olnd from its wavy folds aentied to lash 'of light. )(y complexes,- by proper eure,l had cleared up wonderfully. Now , it was Me the sunny aide of a riprpase.h, only deep } c an in the cheeks to a richer erbium than pen dies ever worn. Ike eyes wee the same-- (CONCLUDED.) rHAPTste In large, black, and stiangSly histroas; and the wan, thin figure of the child had rounded, in the girl into a symmetry as perfect as it was stately. Yes I was very beautiful. I arrayed myself for the occasion in a crimson satin, heavily wrought with . pearls. Around my neck and arms were chains of pearls and-ru bies, fantastically twisted together, faritened with gold clasp', in which a single diamond dashed like a burning star. Strings of the same jewels shone among the heavy bands of My braided hair, and I almost started baek in wondei, as I glanced.skmy full-length reflection in the green room mirror; it seemed so like some pkien pie : ture,,vitik its strangely vivid lights and shades. That night my.trinfuph was complete. The whole Louse rang with applause, and many of the boquets thrown at my feet were I°oo4 up with dianioras. Iwelcomed it, for it was one stepping-stone the more toward my great end.— Oh how I wished be bad been there to see ii but never once bad my eyes rested on bite since we parted in the sunshine on the desolate Vora wall lee-Share. that season I continued to draw crow4ed houses, nntil•the last night, when the theatre . •was filled to overflowing. 1 bad never looked .better. My costume was calculated to set ofemy dark, oriental beauty, and it was in full glow.— Half an hour has passed, when a new arrival in one of the front boxes seemed to create quite a sensation. 1 glanced that- way, and .mat the most perfect vision Of feminine loveliness my eye. had ever rested on. . t Iler style of beauty was _totally different from My own, and I lookell on her at tint without en vy or jealousy. She wore a garnet-colored vel vet cloak, lined with ermine, bit, as-she.enter ed the box, it fell fromher neck, revealing her iihoulderb, white as Causasian snow-banks, and moulded•as purely as a Grecian statue. Ifer hair was. bright golden, and the heavy ringlet:, were gathered at the neck in a net-work of wris t from which one or two stray tresses had escaped and floated down over her neck and bus ore. ifer robe was of azure satin, frosted" with pearls.' awl her fan was gorgeous with the plum age of tropical birds. Her eyes were a deep, tranquil blue—large and strangely bright--and her fair complexion, pure and transparent as mar ble, was deepened in the cheeks with a just per ceptible tint of rose. - ' My eye had taken in all this, at one glance. She seemed- to me like the actual presence of one those beautiful pictures, before which I had stood with filling eyes. itt the gallery of the Louvre, and front my very heart I blessed her for her AS I turned to gaze upon her compact ton. • • Saint Agues! patron saint of mine, why was it that in that instant n deep and bitter hatred ,r that beautiful being crept into my heart.— Iler emnpatiion was Romeo Mann. it was his h.iud that so carefully adjusted the folds of her cyryilat watched so &mealy her every look. I danced that night u, I hall never daueed be fore I 4.afening roar. of applause fairly shook the building to its centre., but of all that gorge eni4 crowd I caw hut out. It-way half }bear he 110..• he: seemed even to native me, and they he earelesaly turned his opera-glass toward the stage. I danced him--at him—what you ;will--at 14=it I .12,10 for his..eyes only; and Iliad the satisfaction of seeing him perfectlyabsorhed, en tranced, and apparently quite forgetful of the presence of his companion. That was my last opera in the season, and a few months afterward I was in London, pleas antly estallished iu 'fashionable apartments at the Wo.t. End. "Agnes," said my guardian, (as I had learned to call my " tat he rly protector," entering my room one momiy, "there are six weeks before. your first engagement commences. What do you say in the meant hue to a masquerade? I have plen ty of relatives among the West Find fashionables, and 1 should have no difficulty in having you in troduced as Miss Agnes Lee in circles where no one would ever dream of Viols, the balletAlancer being admitted. Will you go?" While he spoke an immense longing took pos session of my heart, to gaze face to face on that great world of which I bad beard so much. True, I haul seen people enough—l had danced . to crowd ed audiences, but .of fsslulonahle society, I was as ignorant as a child. 1110 I presuwe very lit tle of my enthusisam'appeared in my manner, is I lifted my eyes and quietly, "Yes, guardian, I will go." "Well, I thought so—it's so like girls to want to see the world; so I made arrangements accor dingly, and I've two invitations for yOu, from two very fashionable ladies who are under some obligations to me. Here is one from Mrs. Soli merby, to her estate, 'The Grange,' a little out of town. You'd meet there a balficore of ladies, beside Simmons and Falcaibrace and a deem other young men who would fall in love with you. You'd have to take care and look out for your own heart, because their cards would be played out as soon as they knew your position." "Well sir, where is the Othe'r one?" . "That, oh that's farther out of town- 7 -tothe Heronry, the estate of Mrs. Somertill4 . Sikes; you wouldn't find any body there to fall in love with. There'll be one man ofmark there though, Horace .Mann; but Lady Clara Emerson trill be there also, and they've been reported engage d so many times, I guess there must be something in EMI Horace Mann: Oh, now the very mention of. his name thrilled me. Oath( it be? Was I in deed to see him—to be in the same house with him once more. My heart guttered like a caged bird, but my nerves were *ong, and !mi command perfect; so I answered carelmaljr— „Well, sir, I believe I'll gloom the Heronry, you know theresw'o knowing what might become of my heart at the other place.” My guardian langbed, and patting my eiwidt pleasantly, sent stt to hunt me ❑p a dressing ■mid, and provide me with a. suitable wardrobe. The next day, at three in the afternoon, I wee whirled up the:speions graieled • eatitedrive of the Heronry, *lid introdwand to the stately Kra. Bomeroiliv Sikes. Mrs was a lady of I should think, about forty, extremely well pre ERIE, SATURDA I served, and very elegantly dressed. There was i an air of patrician ease and gracefulness about her,'such as I had never before observed in any lady with whom I had been thrown in contact. She welcomed me cordially, and went up stairs with me to my own room; then kissing me, she remarked, "I will mad your maid to you my dear—you will her. jut time to dress for din ner." Oh wit* would I not hare given to have inquired if Home Malta had arrived, but I dared not trust myself to mention his name, and I threw myself in as . easpehair, while my maid leisurely unbound the long trews of my hair. When at last its atvengentent was completed, I arrayed myself, with Mumbling fingers, in a rich ! ly-wrought India man. Nothing could have exceeded the simplicity of soy attire. The white dress was without orsameat, and I wore not a single jewel, with assfy a sprig of Cape jamming in the dark folds of say lair. I turned to the mirror, as I was-drawing ma my Oates, sad sew that, though I had many dunes been more daz zlingly brilliant, I bad never looked more beau tiful; and yet my step faltered as I entered the drawing-room. Mrs. Sikes advanced to meet me, and I was formally presented to the company; but my eyes took in but two hoes, my ears caught . but two names. Clara Emenem was there, with bet face so staaagely fair in its quiet beauty, and her slender figure robed in azure silk. A wreath of white buds nestled in her golden curls, and she looked even more lovely than when 1 had first seen her. Beside her eat Home Mann. His was truly the handsomest face my ewer rest ed on. lie was indeed, as my guardian bad said, a man of mark; with his Apollo Belvidere figure, his hyaeinthine ktieks ' and his roguish, laughing, dark-blue eyes. The Lady Clara looked up, smiled, and spoke, very sweetly; but Horace seemed so intent upon his Foavereation with her, that he merely noticed me by a bow. A moment after,-however, as Mrs. Sikes repeated my name, "Miss Agnes Lee," he paused in his oonversa don, and, by his puled flee, I knew he was re membering he had beard that liaise before; but be could not remember where, and I felt reliev ed. But even if he had, he would hardly have associated the fisher-girl tithe Cornwall lee-shore with the very different-looking young lady pre sented to him in Mrs. Sikes' irawing-room lie sat opposite to me at dinner, but kis atten tion was wholly engrossed by his companion. Once, indeed, he casually glanced at me, and then I heard him remarking to Lady Clara "that Miss Lee was magnificently handsome;" and then be added, "But her style is so different froM your*, ma belle Clara," in a tone which left tbrituarrit little les*Ausimigswilulehistzle he i ferred. Durieg the . evaring. I had been staking pain ful efforts to be atreethle to node dowegar.eonw tesscss until I was tired; whetn,'. much to my de light, my task was interrupted by a call for mu sic, and the lady Clara Emerson was led to the piano. Her performance was mediocre, perhaps a trifle better than that of boarding-school mime in general. She affected opera airs for the most part, and, though Borneo Mass loosed veer her and turned her mugs, I could see be was neither interested nor animated; and yet I knew that mu sic was his potion. At last the lady Clara rose from the piano. "Perhaps Miss pee will favor rm," suggested Mrs. Sikes; and' Horace Mum earse to my ids, to lead me to the inritrnment. Hi. band just touched mine ite 1 took my Seat, and, strong is my Dente were, it thrilled me simply. I sang as old Scotch legesid of hoidens song that required power and, mthoe—and I sang it well. I dared not glance at llorre, but I could hear his quickened breatking44 could almost seem to feel his attitude of wraps stratiow and I knew he felt my power. And yet for a week after that he scarcely spoke to me. Wu attention was still absorbed by the beautiful Clara; and yet war time., when he was sitting by her side, I would raise my eyes from my embroidery, and meet a glinee from the distance corner of the room where they were sitting, that would cause my cheek to erimson besilath my drooping lashes. When I sang Horace never came near me; but I knew be listened, and that, let him struggle, as he would, one day my purpose would meet its woomplish meat. The human wall is strong; stronger than Bs, and even death itself may not triumph over it utterly! I weeder whether ever miss or woman ever yet aerated themesivosii with all their emir gies to, the aecoinplialusent of a favorite purpose without musseeding? At least, success is the isle, failure the exception. Time lamed oa, and Horace Mann gradually changed in his deportment His attentions to the beautiful Clara became a abide or ,two lees engrossing, and very often he would lead me to the piano, and hang over me during my perform ance, with his whole soul looking out of his dark eyes. The Lady Clara must have noticed it, and I think she loved him; but her disposition was a singular one. She was too proudly indolent to struggle for the possession of anything. She dressed as becomingly, talked as prettily, and smiled as sweetly as ever. When Horace Mann sat dOwn beside her she welcomed him with a look that had not the slightest shade of reproach in it, and when he was away she seemed totally unconscious of his desertion. No battery of at tractione could have been half so affective as this calm, indifferent dignity; I could not have a worse enemy to contend with. Sometimes Horace would watch her fora long time, and then turn away, with just the queerest kind of a smile up on his lips, soil talk to me more assiduously than ever. One night I was walking in the shrubbery.— It wm the rich, lustrous prime of the stunner; the ma had gone down in his. glory, and the twilight hours had gathered up the gorgeous elands, like dmpery of kings, into their net. It was evening; the moon, like a fair queen, sat on bar oilier throne among her parliament of stars. I - 1114 gone out alone, and with a hurried step was walking to and fro beneath the lareltes, keep ing time to painful thought:. At last my step gr“ slower, and my mood changed. Tears $1 50 A YEAR, IN AIWANCE. , JANUARY 7, 1854. V 'leo . NU came to my eyes, as I remembered the wander ing gipay life I had led before , Horace Mann came to Cornwall. "Better, oh, how fir better off was I then than now," said my throbbing heart, beatipg painful ly beneath my velvet robe. , "Alas! for I am weary," said my Bps aloud; and at that mom e nt a voice, whose lightest; tone could have almost called in, from life to death, said, very gently— I intruding?" I turned and welcomed him, with the tears still heavy on my lashes, and the shadow heavier er on my heart. "You are sad, Agnes," he said sorrowfu4, taking my hand in :hil, as soothingly as\ one would pet a weary infant. "Agnes, dear, beatt tiful Agues, I love you! I never said those words before, Agnes, to asy woman, not even to Clara ilinerson; though long ago the greet world voted us engaged. Yaw will understand thorn--yee will belie" thaws. I did- not mean . to love you, Agnes—l closed my eyes whist your glorious voice; but. ou have trinmphed.4--- See, lam at your feet! Won't you, can't you love, my Agnes?" I But I did not speak; I mold not. The hope of a life-time bad met its fulfilment, when I heard him say those words, and I could not answer "Oh, Agnes! Apes!V he cried beseechingly, "only answer me, milk say, 'Horace, I love your " And eleatingrny voice, and drawing my tigtut to its fullest height, / stood !here. in the moon light, under the larchc!'t, and answered him- 4 4 "Horace Amp, I Ipve_ you with .my wh e sod, as I have loved poi* for years. I fan your and I will be yours, and no other man's till die!" In his excitement he did ,pot notice that I hid said "for Sears;" and standing by my sidc, whispering, "My A es ail clasped toe to his hdart, • —my wife!' . , , i.• F.or one moment, Rick hnd faint with joyi I suffered my head to lie on his breast, and theit I withdrew from his anus, and said firMly- 1 --"No, Horace Mann, not your wife; and if you knfw me, you would sooner die than eall - me so. lion know not who, Or what I am:" "And Care not, Agnes, so that you willlet ine call you mine. Nay, Agnes, do not think Iso meanly of me. 1 t-ue not for rank or wealthi— I know that I. love you, and that is all I n:k 'to know." I am very strong-willed naturall. bait I I+o no strength nor euttrage that night to .lash, nith my own hands, the enp ofjoy my min lip 4„ slid I answered him rewintely—:- , I- - • • "To-night, Horace, I will tell you outhiug Meet we here at sunrise to-oliqrinv inorniux, a. I will tell yon whet you little iirestu. 1 auk tr lug in now.". Once more I pm ively iliffered him to told ne to his heart--for the second time in his life, his lip; touched mine, and then gliding from his arms, I ire-entered the Heronry. That ,•reu• ing I was happy. I resolutely clm,ed my eyes against the shadows that hung around the mor row, and opened my heart, to the joy-touches of the present. , Horace never left my lido-, and when 1 - sang, he watched me with his dark eyes beaming through tears. . . The west morning arose fair and calm. I dressed inyself quickly, and hastened to the try .- ing-place. , Horace was there before me. What a joyousness there Irwin lit. greeting--r urelY I must wait awhile before I could summon strength to dash, it fromhis lips. Once more I yielded my hand to his clasp, and wandered along with him underneath the larches. The sun was just rising. The tree-tops glowed like golden arrows pointed with diamonds; the pig *grass knotted togtber, !hone like a fairy *Amy of brilliaflts, and over all the_ sanshine hip, broad and fai' the very smile of the gods. Its glad beams r; sl edld like a blessing on .llaniee Mann's eh l at hair, and the whole world nem to be in holiday robes, ,as if for rejoi ing. And iet, amid all that beauty and:happi ess, I walited,on i by his side, a crushed, dciwneas miserable w m an, with a ()Mansion trembli&g nmy lips, w ch would blot out frixa my watt' all the . sunli ht, and send One forth, dearer than my life, out into the world, a heart-broken, ,lio testily wretched man. I (maid notlook at litn I could scarcely r t breathe. Al, last I could no farther. I plantnd my back firmly aga& s t one of the hatch.: mg I stood there, and li ft ed tap my ghairtly, tiis arable face, in the light of h ven's free sun shine. Horace turned and looted at. me with the anguish fef sickening terry+ in his gaze, and then he faltered, "Agnes, iny Agnes, what is it?" "Listen, fiance Mann„ , andi I will tell you," I answeied,And my voice wasStnuigely "You remember the tlshernn'S hut on the earn wall lee-shore, and the wid, 'rude chit} w h om you taught t 6 read? Aad loft remember tins?" and I drew from my boaomwlalle I alirays wore it, the guinea he had giveal nae! Re took it in his hand, and looked at it. "Yes, I remember, Aviles; in (o on—how tune you by ithisr ""You gee it to me, sir (foil, /I Lee. Would you eon me wife Brave, noble helot! I e l ouid ere he answer e d, but his lofve "Yelp Agnes I "I" c°o It was your misfortune the lee•sbore; so it was mike. out front my heart booms* ye, longer time, my Agnes?" : 1 / 06, I had . hoped he ald. have spared me that last trial; bid We no, I *list drain the bitter i potion to the dregs ; and I did. "No, Ilbrace Mann, no roe& Agnes. I will never be year wife. W. .1 you wed a ballet. dancer? Fon saw me the stage at Pluili' for listen, Horace: lam .aks, the dewing girl." "Oh, God! 4, God!" aimed that strong man, weeping like a child. I , Speke me, for' this is bitter." 1- - t. I - knew then, as I had. fknown before, that he was lost to me for ever. i I bad ecirkd that be (1 1.4 should love me and be. • lon me. Perhaps I might have been his wife had I willed that also, but I would not. lea lie wished It; out of the might of his *foci lo still !veld I have re fused, for I loved hiss tr, well, too nnsellishly, ow ID O=PM his Ommelwith &gam. At last weeks 1 was prostrated by a low nerfollo blur- During all that time, she was deioted in het illt tention, .40 patient in her tireless vigils, yam would hare thought - her some angel sent h , Heaven to guard me. And yet, Apes, dowel it all, grateful as my heart was to her, it never beat with a single throb that was not *Mild to • You. jti loved you, you only, you aliiiys. .. , 'Torl a time afteenty fever, Iseesned 'to be r eoserini, but the cold weather brought inioutt ing debility, and I was ordered' to Italy. lit course Oars was my eoinpit#lo. I don't knew wh it was, but even these genial skies amid do ii e for a malady which was not of the dook— yet, more and more I g rew in love with Idly. I to sit and dream for hours on the books - ai l ed of . the silvery Arno, trying- to people the Air laid with its -old-times 'deities; but :mosaics, every sylph used to wear your face. I staMitt if lt wank sin thus to worship you. .1 could sot help it,jand I believe God has firgiven Aa— r And this brine me to lomethitg I nun* tip you; it took place list stunmerL -_I had bolt' • very ill; and was just able to go out of doors.— ; I sat alone, (for .1 had sent Clain sway from me,) . feeling miserable and distpondent. I though of you, and oh! Agnes, I owlet tell you how m soul longed and pined for you. I knew it woul be sin to see you the* but I rem*. .' red y ur promise to come to me at my dying I , .ni, wickedly, madly,'l knelt down before 7 - 1 1 ~ dmy 'heart uttered a wail—is cry, s wild CHM rEft v. q t e st prayer for death? I longed for ,it, ,It was toward the 'close of the, second winter, -.l g n e a, Ifor I felt that thus only could I gain. after I had parted with hint, at the Heronry. I 1 ' s on my heart's tretunarr, and yet when I' was no longer a ballet-dancer. With the doper- I . u tteted the words, I was frightened at th eir titre of him I loved,,came a full conviction that I Ile I titeaning, and I grew still, and held my . hereafter I had no private life to nixie rich, that . 1 , h. iI am not superstitions, Agnes; lam a I must give all to' the world; and .. 1 had oom- ', trotestant, and do not believe , 111 miracles and menced to 'sing; and was now rrtnta dolma of I ions; but I know I. heard a'StOice then, and it Her Majesty's Theatre. • . • Jas no human voice; it 'nahl- - --"Come 'unto hie It was almost the last night of the season; I p . I lye t :at are weary and hen laden, and I will had gone to the green-room with a heavy weight .. 4 ., yo re gr , Th er e was a le in my *Ad upon my heart, but I had shook it off, and per- ( .. t h e once aga in I prayed, and this time aie baps, sung even better than usual. At last the I ords o 'my 'prayer were, ' y will be done!" audience dispersed, and going down by the pri.. na 'Liu n unto my soul there same, a htt pesos rate entrance, I stepped into my carriage, 1,1 n d ca l . . , seeing the outline of a inanlrlorin upon thisost,, 1 “si n then, I have longed for you , AP", as .1 - was about to spring back d summon my set- I.sat u>der the orange trees, at it has not Inten vants to my assistance, who ; a voice I had heard ,at Imight fold you in my of earthly in the dreams of many ani ht., whispered, "Ag- tit h no! r I knew I was a dy' 'man, but that I nes:" I called "Home!" ttHite. driver and sat night t e your little hand n mine, and point down. As the carriage tinrued, the gas-light nt to - t other land, where evermore will the flashed full in thy coulps#ion'si face. I could 'bite y wrap her robe about her, and go scarcely roArain a shriek a surprise. Horace ovum ly down the sunset slopes, trembling to Mann had chrugell' - 'n I ondlil scarcely recognise .1 r d . You must meet me. them, Ago* tie took me in his arms once more. "Apes," be said, "my own, my beautiful— God blows I ',add have gone down gladly to my death, rather than live and know that fate had put this stern and terrible - barrier between us. Oh, may Heaven bless Jive, Agnes, and save thee from grief like utine;7 ankfoirn over my face, fell like rain, the bitter, scalding UM of that proud man's mighty sorrow. That day I left the Herietry. The purpose, to which I had vowed nity life, was accomplished, and even in the hoar of its accomplishment, its curse came with it. Sitter far that I had died, .than brought such r eortumi to him, so noble, so dear. 'And yet, I atimeilthat winter better than ever. The smile that curled my red lips was as briiht-L-the bloom died not from my cheeks, nor the light from my eyes. Still' the world's hom age fell upon my ear, and even the amble sad the gifted-backlit the feet of the beautiful dancing girl; Very Often the Lady Chu7 - Emerson was among my audience, ,but - I never knew whether she recognised in:Viola tbe Miss Lee she.had met at the Heronry. I thcitlght her cheek was a little paler than of old, and I believe some of the old hatred toward her crept out of my heart, and in its place stole in a gentle sympathy. I heard .ef Horace Hann upon the Continent, iad amid all my heartpoverty and wretchedness, my life had one erowlang glory—l knits , he lov - ed me. hiin. i• - . 1 - "You are surprised, Igne'‘," he said gently, "at the work trouble has di) i. Never mind, I shall only he at rest the-84) er. I don't know what made use come to : you, Agnes, this night, of all others. lam be married to.auw row. I came home. ens found that Clara r bad su ff ered terribly. She t d not know that I I.had ev , r loved another; but y.long continued attentions to her bad won h heart, and upon my desertion the whole joy 41(1 hope of her life seemed to pass away. My heart smote me. when 1 looked Nina her, pale face, 611 I resolied to make what reparaiion lentil 1 . by giving her My hand, and what of liftl re . ma' s." Re paused. but - I felt that my voice was full. •of tears---I .saitl nothing, and he continued; ‘'Api nes, I know your strength of lore, but your frame is strong, too; perhaps. you will stuff' More than I, but you will live longer. 1 wa , t yon to' promiseuse .otnething, will you; I w' , I' rend for you when I am dying, and I want y u to come. Will you come. Agnes, wherever .ytu are? Will yol"promise me to eome?" And pu - ting my Viand in his, I answered. "I will Conte ' and it was to both our souls as if an oath In-, been spoken. . Reader, I saw Horace Mann once more. Thrlo years had pa5 , ..41, and I wn , :ricli i h:ul le: tl stage, and was residing on my• nun estate.' lovely . villa in the south of France. I w i scarcely more than twenty. and still hcautifit , though trottble hall wroneht many a thread f silver in my! jetty hair. I:think my taste in have been tropical; yon.might have fancied faisdoir the abode of a Sultana. , A fountain f pertained waters daneccl,atifl sparkled in its ma - ble built, in the centre. A glass dosa• open , o itr into a small but choice conservatory, where gr the Indian aloe, with its broad green leaires; d gay tropical birds plumed their wings‘., on t e, , t ~ Whispering boughs of the Eastern palm. 1, Tin graceful, little streams flowed amid' hick ntwiy gram, and 'neath the Eastern trees, half hiddO in the foliage, stood groups of marble statnar that you might have dreamed were Fauns a Hamadryads, the guardian spirits of the amme.., Arnaud the walls of my fainrite room I H. hung a few pictutes, small but choice; they w , mostly woodland landscapes, with here and tlmi oite'nf Claude: Lorraine's Italian sunsets, or head by Perugino. On the other floor were nf heavy netting's from the far-famed loono of • Lidice; and lounges and cushions of Genoa ve - vet, in crimson and purple, were scatte around. On one l of those I lay reading, an listlessly winding round my fingers my unbonn. hair, when my favorite waiting maid, entail.. the apartment, handed me a letter. I recognis . the band,' and my fingers trembled as I b . e the seal, it was long and closely written, but It will copy it all here. lt ran thus: "Agnes, My soul's own Agnes: "Many months lave passed since last we met. Summers land winters have been braided into onyears, and stilt my 'heart heart is your name Wit ten; not one ',hieroglyphic that yon traced his been obliterated. Heart and soul, I am what'l always have boon, yours. I married Clara the t what of that? * am that Agnes w the struggle, phed. wife, even now. been cast upon :hall I shut you stayed there a next day, and I love ber ve ry much. Can; you reconcile this with what I have just told yoU?---) I am yours, as I said; you, even you, my Apes! are More to me than all the rest of the Luvtiti.--1 But it is something to feel we can make anither: human being entirely. happy. a! tfd yoi Clara was, aoriow-struck, i and diooping. • Well, after our marriage, she ,bright , sued up in my presence, as a wood-fioweir,beat'4. en down by the- wind and rain, but yet noi, ernahed; -revives •in the calm glow of thil mut , shine. Son she regained her health, and I ba r lave aregrew dear to' s. man own sister. My own health war foiling rim then, sad for Wray • B. P. SLOAN, DIVA NUMBER 34, ere is no need of the sun by day or the • night. ›.s, it is weeks Since I wrote the above. Genoa then; you will see by the post an at Florence now. Ihave a isioalis my Agnes; come quickly, add Dim OK dme here. I was tabeskuni* al at Ga it I travelled here by easy amps,. and as, wilting, propped by the pillows, ts ,munmen tuy dying bed! Do not start, 4,ws, or riteep! lam a happy man. lam ritiqg , ere there will he,no More pickup's; ear , home to a friend, whonta know; a Re 'irkom I trust.. You must meet me, Ag all wait for you, and you must coils itnediately, for you have -rowed to stead Ong bed., My soul will wait for yea; tut die till you are here! Come the for I am in haste to begone! Id I had a mission for'yon. I give Pan are She was an - . orphan Alm I Wier- Imd she' has no on.l left, to care for her. good, gentle little being, but not * man like you. You . can guide her, yea for her, for I know you have hit she ton will promise me to stay with her se I=l2 (moon IES w , mar I for • i will z DO3, b i I am fop IEI OEM SOITO deeme cheA; 1 el to me i by muy d' I skull quickly, ••I_ to your riot her,. tiler is a' !l o trot n e( zyr e otage long as but little dear to Heaven but of in ihe- shall 'seed your care:' Sit how' ;of our past—nothing, save that yen are lie. and-I ; have .sent forou. 'God is less you. Agnes, not o hms chiming loving,txmie (picky! • f ! :"HORACII MANN." ys More and I stepped from my tra y - ; „. - 'age at the door of a. beautiful halm was an earthly paradise, I saw,_ in the pse I had as I hurried up the steps.— h housekeeper met me at the door. are been expected; ma'am, ' she re- t 1 y,master is just alive!" ere iu that pleasantly furnished room than villa,l saw Horace Mann uses f* the la st time. He-was handsomer " but his face wore the beauty - of an ill urge eyes were gnetuthly in their 'pito d cling can villa. It faint glin An Engli "Yon plied; "a And t 1 I in the t store, ant than eves 1. Ili ges. ..e gth. bsightners, and on his forehead sat a radiance as of heavenly glory. whole face kindled as he saw me, 11411 a stiaile.of welcome played around his lips. He stretched forth his hand: . "You are in time, Agnes," he said; "I knew. You would bc--1. Was waiting *you. Willy care for her?" and with his thip i tinges he. pods tell to Clans, who was kneeli g in a stupor of grief, at the bed's foot. 1 "Yes, Horace," I answered, with faltetini sice and filling eyes, "as long as she has need me!" a i i -"God ble ss you, darling," he whisperedient derly,' d then he closed his eyes as if ismow. "Agnes;' he said once mote, "you will hd in that little desk what I have-meant for you. You Janet looi..for it when I am gone, and vie it of ten. Yon will come Agnes, I know it. loiveth His beloved sl eep.'Think of that, mod ; be comforted, when lam lying low. SitAknon now', Agnes, and take my hand in yours, ad sing some grand old hysyn,.... Good-bye,dasher' I took has hand in min e , and I sat losside I steadied my nerved and my roil:lB,l64in: beck tile tears, and I sang that spend old hymn, "Saviour, when in dust to thee. "Before I had fioished,l the hand I held in mine grew odd: the dark, eyes elosed—Horace Mannwas deed. We busied hint there in mannylisilyrtwe plac ed a Ake stone et his head, and on that stone was graven—"He giveth His beloved .aleepl" The gift be hid left , for me, was the pooket Bible which had been his constant _ _ At first I prized it for his rate—then it far dearer for its own—for it ha; 'guided ay footsteps in the path which will cm lasso home to heaven, and hi m ! I watched over Clara fct his sake, wog the tbrobbings of her great grief grew still; and than, still young and beautiful, she went forth to gladden another heart, another home; sad sten& mg now, among her husband and her childish, I k n o w no t wh e ther her lips usirmar, amidst. fail, the name of the dead. I am old now, but my life is calm sad luggz ; I am looking forward to that day, not off; when I AO stand by Romee's side i* von, and putting my .band in hie, ethiepee— ,,Here am I, mybeloved—l have bust le* Oi ly, through all.' '0! tvdril =I :.,a. • e