wit. "Most noble Baron Leone di Leoni," said he, "do you know that you are going to the devil with most wonderful expedition.'

"What do you mean?" said Leoni, "I have not got into debt at Venice as yet."

"But you will shortly."-" I hope not," said Leoni, with the utmost composure.

"How you do get through the cash," cried the Marquis de Chalon. "You are the prince of spendthrifts-a hundred and fifty thousand francs in four months-that is really handsome."

Amazement rivetted me to the ground; breathless and motionless, I waited to hear the continuation of this singular dialogue.

"A hundred and twenty thousand francs," said the Venetean Marquis slightingly.

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"Yes," replied Chalon, "that Israelite, Thadæus, paid him down as much in hard cash, four months ago."

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"A goodly sum," said the Venetian. 'Leoni, have you paid the rent of your hereditary palace?" "That he has, in advance," interposed Chalon;

he would be here if he had not?"

"think you

"What do you intend to do, when all's up," said a young Venetian.

"Get into debt," said Leoni, with imperturbable placidity. "That's much easier than to find a jew who will leave us at liberty for three months; but when you are wanted? what then ?"

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Step into a nice little boat," said Leoni laughing. "Good,-cross the water to Trieste."

"No-too near-to Palermo. I have not been there yet." "But then you must cut a dash on your arrival; how are you to manage that?"

"Oh! I leave that all to Providence," said Leoni. "It always befriends the bold."

"But not the lazy," said Chalon: "and I greet you as generalissimo of the genus. What could you be doing in Switzerland for six live long months with your infanta?" "No more of that," said Leoni.

The Venetian offered no reply to this species of provocation, and Chalon made haste to change the subject.

"But why the devil don't you play?" said he to Leoni. "Gracious heavens! Don't I play every day to oblige you?

You are mere fools when you have made a coup; instead of living at your ease and enjoying life like conquerors, you riggle about until you spoil the chances."

"We all know what that means, of course," said the Venetian Marquis.

"Thank you," said Leoni; "I don't wish to know anything more about it; I was nicely caught at Paris. When I think there is a man

"Well, what of him?" said Chalon.

"A fellow," said the Venetian Marquis, "whom we must remove, cost what it will, if we would enjoy liberty upon earth; but his time is up."

"Be easy upon that point," said Leoni, "I am not so degenerate a son of Venice, as not to know how to remove a troublesome fellow from any path; and, but for that love affair which got the better of my head, I had a fine opportunity in Belgium."

"Bah," said the Marquis, you have never practised in that line: you would not have the courage."

"The courage!" said Leoni, half rising; his eyes flashing with passion.

"Come, no nonsense," said the Marquis, with that appalling coolness which was common to them all. "You have courage

to kill a bear or a wild boar I admit; but as for killing a man, you have too much sentimental and philosophical stuff in your head for that.'

"That may be," replied Leoni, reseating himself; "but wait."

"Well, you can't play at Palermo, that's clear."

"Away with play, cards, dice, and everything there nto appertaining. If I could work myself into a passion for anything, whether shooting or hunting, I would shut myself up in the abruzzi for the whole of next summer.

"Haven't you, Juliet," can't you blow the embers of your last spring's love," said the Venetian Marquis."

"I will not blow the embers," said Leoni, with warmth; "but I'll blow your head off if you mention her again." "Come, come, Leoni," said Chalon, taking him by the "you are treating us badly this evening. Are you tired of our friendship? Do you doubt us?"

arm;

"I don't doubt you," said Leoni; " you have given me as much as you took from me. I know exactly what you are worth; I take the good with the bad, without prejudice."

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Come, no rhapsodies; wine wine," cried a number of

voices; LL we shall have no good humour, until Chalon and Leoni are both tipsy. They are nervous, let us bring their fit to a crisis."

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Yes, my friends, my good friends," cried Leoni; "wine and good humour, and friendship, and life! It is the cards that make me snappish. Huzza! for wine and cigars, and idleness and love and everything that makes us live. Everything is good in its way when one is powerful enough to enjoy it." They all rose up, roaring forth a bacchanalian chorus.

I fled up the staircase with the precipitation of one closely pursued by an enemy, and I fell insensible on the floor of my

chamber.

On the following morning, I was found extended upon the carpet, stiff and cold,-a brain fever ensued. I believe Leoni nursed me. I fancied I saw him sometimes at my pillow, but I could only entertain a vague idea of it. In three days I was out of danger. Leoni then called from time to time to ask how I was, and spend a portion of the evening with me; but I afterwards learned that he left the palace every night, and did not return until six o'clock in the morning.

Of all that I had heard, I had a clear perception of one point alone, and that was, one that caused me unutterable pain-that Leoni loved me no longer. Until then I would not believe it, although his whole conduct might have let one feel it. I resolved I would no longer contribute to his ruin, or take advantage of a remnant of compassion or generosity, which still dictated his attentions to me. I sent for him as soon as I had strength to bear the interview, and I told him what I had heard him say of me to his boon companions. I was silent as to the rest. In fact, I could not see clearly through that confusion of iniquities which his friend's allusions had raised in my mind, nor did I wish to fathom the gloom; my mind was made up to the worst that could happen, abandonment, despair, or death.

I told him I was determined to separate from him, and that I should leave Venice in a week, that henceforth I would accept nothing from him. I had carefully kept my father's pin, and the sale of it would provide me with more than sufficient funds to take me to Brussels.

The courage with which I spoke, and which was no doubt aided by my fever, was a sudden blow to Leoni. He was silent, and paced the chamber with a hurried step, then bursting into a paroxysm of grief, he flung himself upon a sofa. I started from my couch,

"No," said he, suddenly grasping my arm, you must not leave me. Would you condemn me to death as a punishment for words that escaped from me in my cups? Do you, can you

believe it? Oh! what have I not suffered for these last fifteen days. There are secrets here (and he struck his bosom violently with his fist) which are burning my vitals; if I could reveal them to you-but you could not hear them to the end. Oh! Juliet, you know not to what I am urged by an association with ruined spendthrits, and a soul compounded of such conflicting elements as mine."

"I know the worst," said I; "but did you love me still, I would brave it all."

"You know it," said he, with a frenzied air, "you know it. What is it you know?"

"I know you are ruined-that this palace is not your ownthat you have spent a large fortune in four months, and I know that you are accustomed to the dissipated career of an adventurer. I am not aware how you contrive to spend and retrieve your fortune in such a short space of time. I believe gaming to be your ruin and your resource. I can see you are surrounded by fatal companions, and that you struggle against wicked counsels. I believe you are on the brink of a precipice, but that you may still fly from it.'

"All quite true," said he; "then you do know all, and you will forgive me."

"If I had not lost your affection," said I," I would not consider I had lost anything in leaving this palace with all its splendour, and this round of company which I abhor. No matter how poor we might be, we could always afford a cottage, if not in Switzerland, at least in some other quarter. If you loved me, you would not be lost; for you would forget those evil passions which you made the subject of a fiendish toast. If you loved me, we could pay our debts with what property we have still remaining, and seek some retreat where I would soon forget what I have heard,"

"Oh! I do love you-fondly, dearly, love you," exclaimed he. "Let us fly. Save me! save us both! Be my benefactress, my angel, as you have always been. Come, forgive me." He threw himself at my feet and poured out such a torrent of passionate words, with such fervour, that I believed him; and so I believe I would again. Yet he was deceiving me, humbling me, and yet he loved me.

One day that he felt nettled with my reproaches, he burst out into a defence of gaming.

Gambling," ," said he, "is a passion as energetic as love, but different in its effects. More productive of strong dramatic effect, it is more exciting, more heroic in the acts which lead to the final denouement. If this denouement is misery, as, alas! it must be confessed it is, the ardour is powerful, the boldness is sublime, the sacrifices are blind and unlimited. No woman never inspired a passion so all absorbing. Gold has a power, which even theirs cannot equal. In strength, in courage, in devotedness, in perseverance, compared with the gambler, the lover is but a weak child, whose efforts are deserving of pity. How few men have you seen ready to sacrifice that inestimable possession, that priceless necessary, that vital principle; without which, it is believed that life is no longer supportable. Their honour-I have seen men sacrifice their lives for it, but there ends their devotion. Day after day, the gambler immolates his honour, and yet lives. He is stoical; he triumphs with coolness; he submits to defects with coolness; in the space of a few hours he passes from the lowest to the highest ranks of society; in a few hours he redescends to the level from which he rose; and this without changing a muscle, without betraying the slightest emotion. In the course of a few hours, and without quitting the spot where he is spellbound by his demon, he experiences all the vicissitudes of life, he passes through all the varieties of fortune which the different social conditions represent. He is now a king, now a beggar; at a single bound he goes from one end to the other of the immense ladder, ever calm, ever self-possessed, ever sustained by his athletic ambition, ever excited by the sharp thirst which devours him. What shall he be in a few minutes, prince or slave? In what condition shall he leave that room, pennyless or bending under a weight of gold? What matters it, he will return again to-morrow to remake his fortune, to lose it or to triple it.

"To him rest is quite out of the question. He is like the bird of the storm who cannot live without the raging waves, and lashing winds. He is accused of loving gold, so little does he love it that he throws it away in handsfull. Gold is his plaything, his enemy, his god, his dream, his demon, his poetry; the phantom he pursues, attacks, struggles with, and which he presently lets go for the mere pleasure of again recommencing the struggle, and of contending, hand to hand, with destiny once more. His energies are misdirected, true; but while you blame, you cannot despise him. How many men are there who work for the public good, without thinking