"THE passion which concentrates its strength and beauty upon one object, is a rich and terrible stake, the end whereof is death. The living light of existence is burnt out in an hour, and what remains? The dust and the darkness!"

L. E. L.

REBECCA.

FRANCIS MITFORD.

NUMBER TWO.

LONDON!-in solid magnificence-in all that the most visionary dreams of wealth can imagine where is her parallel! Paris may surpass her in grace; the never-ending sound of joy that echoes through the streets of the French metropolis, may pleasingly contrast with the commercial solemnity which pervades her; but she alone has achieved that imperial crown which cities like her only can wear, and which is only to be won by centuries of untiring enterprise.

Five thousand a year in London is no great things. A man may, to be sure, appear among the great world, by its aid; but it can only be in forma pauperis. If he seek to imitate those by whom he is tolerated, he is ruined. Thus fared it with our hero. A desire to appear even as a star amid the constellations by whom he was surrounded, led him to ape, still at an humble distance, their extravagancies. But this was enough to destroy him. His house, his horses, and his chariot, in due time came to the hammer, and for the benefit of his creditors. But still Mitford had a thousand guineas left. Though reduced to poverty, he did not despair; but the source to which he looked was a delusive one. He turned to gaming, and invoked the spirit of chance.

Oh, Gaming!of all vices thou art the most seductive, for thou assailest us through our avarice. What the merchant feels, when his ship is on the seas what the broker feels, while the rise or fall of stocks is yet undecided - that delightful agony of suspense, which flattering Hope whispers may be decided in his favor all this the gambler feels, while yet his stakes are on the table. From other vices a man may be divorced. The bottle he may relinquish

but gambling, never!

WO

men he may forswear Mitford was in the habit, since the decadence of his fortunes, of visiting those palaces of vice which, in defiance of the severest laws, rear their pernicious heads in the most public portions of the British metropolis; the more seductive, because they put forth all the blandishments of the most refined elegance. mirrors, Turkey carpets, the most exquisite wines, and last, though not least, a cuisine over which Ude himself might have presided without a blush.

It may be said, 'Why are not these houses put down?' It must be responded, that in a free country, abuses of liberty will always take place. No good is inseparable from its concomitant evil. The magistracy once upon a time determined to be firm. Some of the gaming houses were attacked; the iron doors were forced; the barred windows were escaladed. Some of the proprietors, and twenty of the votaries, were captured, together with the guilty instruments of their occupation.

From Bow-street they were released on bail. The case came on to be tried at the Clerkenwell Sessions.

What an array! Three clergymen, two lords, sundry merchants and gentlemen, indicted for a misdemeanor, subjecting them to the discipline of the tread-mill! The usual forms were gone through; the prisoners pleaded not guilty. What sane culprit ever does other

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

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-to the colonel.

'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.