wise? Counsellor Phillips closes for the defence, urging the usual clap-traps of Liberty of British subjects,' 'violation of private rights,' etc. Shall it be said, gentlemen,' continued he, that we shall not transact what business, or enjoy what amusement, we please, in our own houses, without being subject to the interference of the armed myrmidons of the police? Gentlemen, it is the duty of every citizen to resist such gross encroachments on his rights. For my part, were my house assailed, I would do what I have no doubt you would, defend my threshold to the last drop of my blood, and with a pistol in one hand, and a dagger in the other, deal merited death to the aggressors.'

The jury were wonderfuly tickled. Verdict, Not guilty!'

On the foundation of this verdict, rose Crackford's palace, at which in one night a million has changed hands, and the average never falls below three hundred thousand! Whoever doubts the lamentable, nay, hideous consequences often resulting from this fatal passion, should ponder well on the following, too well authenticated to admit of skepticism.

A lieutenant in the army, a most meritorious officer, strongly attached to play, found himself suddenly plunged by this addiction deeply in debt. His resources, save the scanty means derived from his commission, had long been swallowed up. Nothing was left, except to sell his commission, and then what fate awaited his lovely wife and three children! In the horror of the thought, an idea seized him, as guilty as it was desperate. A certain nobleman, of singular habits, he was informed, would traverse a little-frequented part of the country, on a stated night, bearing with him a large sum of money, the produce of his rents. The lieutenant determined to rob him.

Lord S — was rolling tranquilly along in his carriage, enjoying the most placid state of mind, and felicitating the country at large and himself in particular, on the very great security with which nightly journeys could be made on the high roads, and which his lordship, in no inconsiderable degree, attributed to the legislative wisdom of his ancestors. At this moment, a horseman, enveloped in a capacious cloak, and mounted on a heavy charger, rode against the leaders with such force as to bring them to an instantaneous stop. To fell the postillion and coachman, open the door of the carriage, and present a pistol at his lordship's head, was the work of a

moment.

Your money or your roughness.

life!' cried the robber, in a tone of assumed

Lord S —, if he had all the dignity, had also inherited all the courage, of his ancestors. He replied by pulling a trigger at the speaker's head. The weapon missed fire.

Such another attempt will cost your lordship your life. Deliver instantly all the money your lordship has in your carriage.'

'On my word, young man, you are very peremptory; and though I cannot say I admire your proceeding, yet I suppose I must comply. Here is a purse containing fifty pounds, and here are two diamond rings, which I have just now disengaged from my fingers, to their very sensible inconvenience.'

'This, my lord, is not sufficient. I know you have a sum of three thousand pounds placed under the right seat of your carriage. Despair, my lord, has driven me to this desperate purpose. That sum you must deliver up, or I shall stop at nothing to obtain it.'

Really, Sir, your precise information as to my affairs is admirable. Here, then, is the box containing three thousand pounds- as I should be extremely sorry to embrace the alternative you insinuate.' 'Your lordship will excuse the inconvenience to which I have been forced to subject you, and be assured I only accept this as a loan.'

'My good nature is extreme, and I will even extend it so far, on one condition; which is, that you favor me with a meeting, this day three months, at the entrance of the Coliseum.'

'If your lordship will pledge me your honor not to adopt any unpleasant measures, and not to refer to this untoward event, I certainly will.'

My honor is pledged,' said his lordship, his hand on his right breast.

And I will comply,' replied the robber, riding off with his booty.

Jasmin! Turquoise!' exclaimed his lordship to his discomfited coachman and postillion, if your brains are not knocked out, pray re-mount and proceed.'

The interlocuted,' who happily happened not to be in the predicament suggested by his lordship, obeyed orders, and the carriage proceeded.

THE appointed time for meeting had nearly arrived. Lord Swas entertaining a distinguished colonel at his mansion in Belgrave Square. His lordship related to him the event, and the robber's promise. The colonel laughed at the idea of the meeting. 'Do you really think,' said he, 'your highwayman is so ambitious of the halter as to be punctual?'

'I am persuaded,' said Lord S―, 'that something extraordinary must have driven that young man to this perilous step. My idea is to reform him. You must come with me.' The colonel consented.

At the given day, they repaired to the entrance of the Coliseum. A young man, in a military undress, and whose exterior announced the gentleman, met them. Lord Simmediately recognised him as the interruptor of his midnight journey. They proceeded into the interior of the Coliseum. The stranger appeared visibly embarrassed by the presence of the colonel. In half an hour he took his leave.

What think you of my highwayman?' said Lord S colonel.

to the Think!' said the latter; 'the fellow is a member of my own regiment. He must be apprehended and punished.'

My dear colonel,' said Lord S, 'you forget that I am bound to secrecy. No such thing shall be done."

'But the interests of society' said the colonel, who forthwith uttered a long chapter on that much-abused subject.

'Society, my dear colonel, will never suffer by the reformation

rather than the punishment of a criminal. I am not one of those who think myself specially commissioned to avenge the wrongs of society. They who do, generally use the pretence as a cloak to their own ill nature.'

The colonel finally permitted himself to be persuaded. But it was highly probable the young man, finding himself discovered, would be driven to phrenzy. He was probably then with his family. Lord S obtained his address from the colonel, flew to his house, where he found the wretched man's wife distracted, his children in tears, and himself preparing to go he knew not whither.

Lord S dried up their tears, assured the lieutenant of his forgiveness, nay farther, of his assistance. The lieutenant resigned his commission, and accepted service in a foreign land, where, by a vigorous renouncement of play, and consequent attention to his profession, he finally rose to distinction.

Now I would by no means seriously advise any young man, however much inconvenienced for money, to take to the highway, for there are few persons in the world like Lord S and vast numbers disposed to avenge the interests of society.'

MITFORD had long deserted No. 10 St. James' Square, and No. 7 Pall-Mall, for the more humble and smaller hazards of 5 Bury,' and '10 King-street;' and though at each of these tables he could see the spectres of ruined adventurers flitting round the scenes of their destruction, and who were rather tolerated by the proprietors from fear, than suffered from choice, yet example gave no lesson to our hero, who, like thousands of others who had preceded him, hoped he should be able to avoid the disasters which all others had found it impossible to shun.

One fatal evening, he carried the whole of his funds with him, determined to make or mar' his fortune. From five in the evening, with various alternations of chance, he hung over the bank of rouge et noir. Morning dawned, and saw him a beggar.

He quitted the pandemonium. Fevered, heart-sick, and agonized, he rapidly traversed Pall-Mall, and plunged into Hyde-Park. The broad and placid sheet of the Serpentine lay before him, reflecting the early rays of the sun, and projecting back the shadows of the thousand palaces which seemed to claim a fairy existence in its

waters.

A sudden thought struck him. Perhaps it had directed him there. Might he not at once end all his troubles, and find quiet and a grave in the stream on whose banks he now wandered?

But whatever might have been Mitford's other faults, that reckless infidelity, which must always accompany the suicide, formed no portion of his character. From the instructions of an affectionate mother he had early imbibed those religious lessons, which, however silent they may have remained amid the glare and gayeties of the world, struck him with peculiar force in the midst of his desolation, and he shrunk aghast from the thought of rushing into the presence of his Creator, unabsolved by penitence, and bearing fresh on his soul the impress of a mortal crime.

He turned toward his humble residence, with a throbbing brain. The streets were already crowded, but Mitford heeded not the bustle which surrounded him. The absolute, irretrievable, hopeless ruin into which he had fallen, alone occupied his thoughts; and his eyes saw nothing but the future misery to which he was doomed. The crowds turned to gaze at him, as he rushed elbowing through them, and seemed to think him some fugitive from a mad-house.

Arrived at home, he threw himself on his bed. The pent-up sorrows of his nature gushed out in torrents of tears, and his agony found a vent in audible sobs. But it has been wisely ordained that no sorrow, however acute, no grief, however overwhelming, should prey upon the mind with equal and continued fervency. The floodgates of sorrow once opened, the mind, relieved from the oppression, re-bounds from the cause in which its sorrows had their source; Pride comes to the relief of Despair, and the siren Hope has yet another delusive whisper to console.

Thus fared it with Mitford. Fatigued with the grievous outpouring of his soul, he slept.

WE have hitherto seen Mitford carried away by the frivolities of fashion, and even culpably straying from the strict path of morality; but it must not be imagined that his acquaintances consisted alone of those giddy moths, who cease to flutter round the candle the moment it ceases to blaze. Many of his father's friends, solid merchants with well-ballasted heads, he still continued to cultivate; and he formed some intimacies with families of sterling worth- whether we count it in virtue or in pounds — among retired traders.

Let us now turn to more domestic matters. Some months had elapsed, and Mitford had long ceased to be a desirable resident at any of the fashionable hotels. There is no place in the world where a man can live so long without money, as London; but it is necessary to have a little, sometimes. Tavern-keepers, in this civilized age, are audacious enough to expect payment for their mutton after it has been eaten. So much for the march of democracy!

Refugiated in a suburban lodging, verging on that truly English appellation, the shabby genteel,' he breakfasted at nine, and made his exit at ten, exactly, leaving his landlady in considerable doubt whether he was a moderate annuitant, a half-pay officer, a junior in a banking-house, or an attorney's clerk.

While absent on one of these morning excursions, his laundress called with his clothes. This makes five-and-thirty shillings as how Mr. Mitford owes me.'

'And as how,' says the landlady, peering from the top of the stairs, he owes me for five weeks rent.'

'Strange he does n't pay !' echoed the woman of suds.

That morning Mitford's evil star predominated. His tailor, his wine-merchant, and his butcher, presented themselves together. 'We wants our money!' cries the trio in a breath.

On such occasions landladies are always curious. Ours adjusted her hair, and asked them into her parlor.

'How much does he owe you?' asked she of the man of port and champagne.

'Two hundred and eighty-six pounds, not to mention odd shillings and pence.'

My eyes! what a lot of money!' echoes the laundress; and all for such outlandish stuff! I never drinks nothing but small beer, 'cept it's a quartern o' gin.'

And my bill,' said the Schneider, 'is three hundred pounds.' 'And mine,' cried the man of beef, 'is two hundred.'

I tell you what, gem'men,' says the landlady, in my opinion you'll never see a shiner; he owes me for five weeks rent.'

'I wish I could get my bottles back,' says the man of cham

pagne.

'I'll never get my clothes,' says the man of measures.

It's no use standing no nonsense,' says he of beef; a gem'man as has got no money, is no gem'man, and dash my wigs! if he do n't pay me, I'll tell him so!'

'I'll seize his trunk!' says the landlady.

And I'll keep his clothes!' said Suds, when I can get them

again.'

'I'll have satisfaction!' says the man of beef, his hand reverting insensibly to his steel; for in the mind of a butcher, satisfaction is inseparable from slaughtering a sheep or lamb.

The trio finally agreed to call that evening, and not depart without the wherewithal.

Poor Mitford unsuspectingly came home to dinner. Scarce had he concluded, when the man of wine, of measures, and of beef, made a simultaneous attack.

Now even when a man has money, to be dunned immediately succeeding dinner, and forced to pay out a certain quantum of pounds, shillings, and pence, is horridly provoking. What then must it be to a man who has no money? What must it have been to Mitford, who by no means boasted the mildest of tempers who was still more soured by recent misfortune - and who had three of the noisiest of the genus 'dun' to deal with?

We must not then be surprised, if the man of beef found himself with a single leap from the drawing-room window at the street door; if the Schneider made but two steps down the stair-case; and if the prompt exit of the man of bottles was accelerated by an impetus to the Hotentonian portion of his unmentionables.

That night Mitford interrupted the charitable predilection of his landlady for his trunks, by discharging his 'little bill,' and the following morning found him on his way to France.

CALAIS is the grand resource of those English who live to eschew bailiffs. Sufficiently near to England to admit of a quick correspondence, it at the same time presents moderate charges.

At Desseins Mitford met the celebrated Brummel, whom he found, in dress and manners, nothing more than a gentleman should be. Oh, Bulwer! how could you travestie one of the most perfect gentle