No. 201.

JOCK. SOME years ago, a large portion of the inhabitants of a range of villas upon the Sauchyhall road, near Glasgow, were supplied with hot rolls every morning by a boy named Jock, the apprentice of an honest baker in the city. There was nothing about the appearance of this youth to distinguish him from the innumerable other boys of his age and calling; he was simply, and to all intents and purposes, a baker's boy. Jock, however, as he daily approached the suburb alluded to, bearing upon his head a heavy load of bread, never failed a single morning to attract the notice of a cluster of boys, the children of the genteel suburbans of Sauchyhall, who used to congregate at a particular piece of waste ground, in order to amuse themselves during the hour previous to breakfast. The spirit which tempts the gentleman to laugh at the churl, exists in its full force among the young, who are usually, moreover, somewhat more free than their seniors in manifesting it. It therefore appeared to our youngsters as good sport to lie in watch for Jock, and, when he had arrived opposite their play-ground, to rush upon him, with bits of turf, mud, and even small pebbles, laughing and shouting at him, calling him all sorts of ridiculous names, roaring out opprobrious rhymes directed time out of mind against his profession, and pelting him with the missiles which they had provided. In these encounters, being only one against a multitude, and embarrassed by a heavy load which might have contracted injury in the course of any attempt at resistance or reprisal, Jock was at a great disadvantage. He would occasionally turn against his assailants, and vainly show a resentment which he had no means of wreaking upon them; this, together with a ludicrous peculiarity in his voice, only added to the sport, and increased the relish which his enemies found in annoying him. The poor lad then thought it most prudent to hurry on as fast as he could before the storm of obloquy and mud, in order to deposit his rolls with the individuals to whom they were destined, and afterwards return with all speed to town. But this again was interpreted into spiritlessness, of all vices of character the most contemned by boys, and his sufferings accordingly experienced no abatement. After enduring for a long series of mornings with silent resignation, he at length turned round on one occasion, and gazing for a moment at the yelling mob, burst into tears. A momentary pause was made, as they heard him address them, as nearly as can be recollected, in the following words:"It's all very well for you," he said, "who live in fine houses, and have fathers to give you every thing you want, to go on this way; but it's very hard that a poor fellow, who has nobody but himself to look to, and is obliged to work hard for his bread, cannot go about his proper business in an honest way, without being abused and misca'd." It was all in vain; the shower of turf and mud was renewed, and he was driven along towards his usual destination, the boys being apparently of opinion that this new mark of tameness only rendered him a more proper object of persecution.

There was one boy who felt the force of the appeal: it was the individual who now acts as our informant. Staggered both as to the justice and the humanity of the conduct which he and his companions were pursuing, he retired from the crowd, but without being so much impressed as to think himself called upon to interfere with the rest. The persecution was therefore continued without any material abatement for another week, when a remarkable incident took place.

In the piece of waste ground which has been alluded to, there was a disused quarry, which was filled to the brim with water, and formed a favourite scene of

The father of our informant deemed it proper to put two guineas into the hands of his child, to be presented next morning to Jock, as an acknowledgment of his services-an acknowledgment squared, as usual in such cases, rather to the condition of the obliging party, than to the value of the benefit conferred. But though Jock had never been so carefully watched for before, no Jock appeared. Next morning, our friend again watched, eager to astonish him with the bright guerdon; but still Jock was not. Inquiry was then made respecting the person whom the lad had hitherto served, and, having ascertained the address, our friend went to call for him. The conversation which took place in the shop was as follows:"I want to see Jock." "Jock's no here." "Where is he, then ?"

"He gaed awa' frae me the other day. There was a parcel o' mischievous young villains on the Sauchyha' road that abused him sae muckle, that Jock could stand it nae langer. Maybe ye're ane o' them [this with a very hard look]. And sae he tauld me that he bu'd to

PRICE THREE HALFPENCE.

look for another place. Jock's as fine a callant as ever breathed-an industrious honest chield, and the only son o' a puir widow woman, that has nae other body to depend on. But he never cam hame a morning frae the Sauchyha' road, but his heart was like to break wi' ill usage, and, after bearing 't as lang as he could, he fairly ga'e up the rows and left me, for I had naething else e'enoo for him to do. Od, if I could be sure that ye were ane o' the rascals that tormented him, I wad think little o' taking a stick t'ye, and threshing ye out o' the Cowcaddens."

"Will you not tell us where Jock lives, for I have something to give him?"

"No, no, I'll tell ye naething about him. Gae awa' wi' ye, for I'm sure ye're ane o' the pack."

And, finding the old man much more inclined to inflict a beating than give information, our friend was obliged to depart as he came. Other inquiries were made, but in vain. From that time till the present, Jock has never been traced, although the individual whose life he saved, so far from allowing the sense of obligation to diminish by the lapse of years, has often, since he arrived at man's estate, been heard to declare, that, now being able to extend a remuneration out of his own resources, he should be delighted to have an opportunity of granting one much larger than that formerly proposed; a remuneration, however, which surely, if Jock still lives, cannot be of the kind most agreeable to him, for it can hardly be supposed that a spirit so worthy and magnanimous can have been confined to that humble sphere of life, in which a pecuniary reward is appropriate.

This little anecdote, which has been related without one varnishing tint, or any particular which does not belong to it, forcibly recals the time when herds of boys were every where seen, deriving amusement from the torment of some unfortunate being, either deformed in body or in mind, or perhaps simply of an inferior grade to themselves, and provocative of mirth and scoffing by their mere windowed and loop-holed wretchedness. We say-recals the time, for it is most obvious that boys are now rarely seen pursuing such false and brutalising sports. Although this may be in part owing to improvements in our police, it is certainly, in the main, a consequence of the better ideas which now prevail among parents, respecting the means of repressing the vicious, and bringing out the amiable, properties of their children. The disposition to torment helpless and grotesque persons did not arise directly from any deficiency of benevolent feeling in the young, for there are few children who, at the recital of such stories as the Children in the Wood, will not be greatly moved, insomuch that some have been known to implore their parents to cease trying them with such affecting narratives, and even to rebel with violence against being obliged to remain where they are read. In the infant seminaries, too, where great pains is taken to inculcate justice and kindness, it is found that very young creatures will live for weeks in community, without once giving a neighbour offence, but, on the contrary, exercising towards each other every benevolent and respectful sentiment. What chiefly prompted the children of the last and preceding ages to hunt down misery and call it sport, was the relish of the ludicrous and the odd, which is very powerful in children; unchecked as it was by any clear perception of the difference between scoffing and being scoffed at, tormenting and being tormented. Inform the child that their sport is the pain of the other party, and that comparative humility of condition, however grotesque to the eye, demands from the moral sense a feeling quite different one of compassion and sympathy-and, the infant mind having ap

preciated the question, which it will be more ready to do than we could expect, the infant heart will soon dictate a line of conduct more accordant with the sublime precept, That we should love our neighbour as ourselves.

VARIETIES OF COLOUR AMONG MANKIND.

THE most obvious external point of distinction among

mankind is the colour of the skin; a peculiarity of little natural, but which has become one of great moral, importance. The investigations of recent naturalists have thrown some light upon this subject, without altogether rendering it clear that the tints of the various races are either original or the result of circumstances. We shall here sum up all that has been ascertained by these inquirers.

hair, and eyes of a deep red tinge, liable to severe pain for want of the dark pigment which in ordinary eyes absorbs the superfluous rays of light. Mr Lawrence is the only author who considers the strange appearance of these beings as not the consequence of disease. In reference to the usual belief, he says, "I consider these views completely incorrect. The individuals in question do not exhibit a single character of disease. All their functions are executed as in other persons. They are born of healthy parents, occur among the robust and hardy members of savage tribes, and a similar deviation takes place in many wild animals." It is at least certain that they are an exception from the usual course of nature, and form no distinct race, as their children invariably return to the character or type of the antecedent generations.

The 5th, and last division of the human race, is the Black or Negro, inhabiting the greater portion of Africa, and exhibiting peculiarities more distinctive than any other; the chief of which are, jetty complexion, a flat nose, crisp hard hair, and a backward jetty projection of the heel. The Caffres, inhabitants of the eastern portion of the African continent, are not so deep in hue as the other Negroes, and appear to possess less of that rank character of the skin, which is an attribute of all coloured races of men, from the Red Indian to those we are now mentioning.

2d, The Yellow or Olive race presents "a middle The skin, as described in a former sheet, consists of tint between that of ripe wheat and boiled quince, or three layers, each of which has an important and dis-dried lemon peel," and includes all the Mongolian tinct function. The outermost is the cuticle, a thin tribes inhabiting the interior of the Asiatic continent. transparent film, devoid of vessels and nerves, and 3d, The Red or Copper colour is to be found diswhich consequently may be torn off or injured in any tinguishing the natives of the whole of America, and way, without causing other inconvenience than that in no other quarter of the globe. Their hue resembles which results from the exposure of the subjacent coats, that of cinnamon bark, and over the whole of that to which it appears to act simply as a protection. In all immense country their appearance varies exceedingly the varieties of the human species, this membrane is little. Their hair is black, and presents a striking nearly colourless, and the purpose of defence which it contrast to the curly wool of the Negro head, being answers is shown by the hardened state in which it is long and straight, even in those latitudes where the found on the hands, feet, and other parts exposed to heat is equal to that of the interior of Africa. contact with external objects. The second layer of 4th, The Brown or Tawny complexion is prevalent skin is termed the rete mucosum, from its soft mucous in all the islands of the Pacific, and the countries of It approaches to the tint of mahostructure. Although a very thin membrane, it is the Malay race. quite demonstrable in the Negro and coloured races, gany, and is accompanied by soft thick hair and black and is, like the cuticle, unprovided with vessels. eyes. Doubts exist among anatomists whether the rete mucosum is to be found at all in the white races of mankind; and some of the most acute observers, such as the late Dr Gordon and Mr Lawrence, have declared themselves unable to detect it. It is certainly found in a thickness proportioned to the depth of the colour, so that we may fairly suppose it to be only designed to serve as the seat of the colouring matter, which appears to be a deposition from the blood, though of what character is yet disputed, some anatomists holding it to be the same matter as that which gives colour to the blood, while Davy and Blumenbach regard it as carbon. On the maceration of the skin in water, the rete mucosum separates, and falls to the bottom in the state of an impalpable powder. The black colouring is secreted out of the vessels of the cutis vera, or true skin; a membrane amply furnished with blood-vessels and nerves, and consequently possessed of extreme sensibility. That this last layer receives external impressions through the medium of the outer layers, is proved, when these are removed, by pain being substituted for the sense of touch, on any substance being brought into contact with it. The true skin performs very important functions, and almost all of them are inseparable from the subject of varieties of colour in mankind. It is the agent in the excretion of perspiration, the seat of the sense of touch, and, through its blood-vessels, the source of distinguishing tints.

Overlooking the intermediate shades produced by mixtures ascertained to be of no great antiquity, mankind have been divided, with a reference to colour, into five classes-1, the White; 2, the Yellow or Olive; 3, the Red or Copper-coloured; 4, the Brown or Tawny; and, 5, the Black.

The purest white tribes are descendants of the ancient Germans or Teutones, comprehending the modern

All minor varieties of the human race may be referred, as far as regards origin and colour, to some one of these five classes, modified by situation, climate, or admixture. In whatever quarter or climate the intercourse of two races distinct in colour may be formed, it appears to be a law, that the fruit of it partakes in an equal degree of the characters of each. This has led in the East Indies and Spanish America to the establishment of what are called castes; and the jealousy of the European residents in the preservation of their superiority as conquering colonists, has caused the most minute computation of the degrees of relationship to the dark or light race, before the claims of any candidate for admission into the pure white circles can be allowed. We can thus perceive with what facility new colonies may have originated over the earth, from individuals belonging to races totally distinct, whose descendants, combining the external properties of both, have become, in the lapse of time, referable with certainty to neither. The state of society resulting from this law, in all places where colonies of Europeans have been planted in modern times, affords the most satisfactory evidence of the strong and even permanent

effects of intermixture of races; and from these we learn circumstances which have been held important, in examining the causes of colour in the dark races. To explain this point more clearly, the following list, tants of Spanish America, is given :

Many other subdivisions, of course, exist; and as this scale shows a restoration to white blood, so, by a reversal of the process, might the Quinteron's posterity be rendered pure Negroes. Where Mulatto is united to Mulatto for a long series of intermixtures, the tendency is always to return, by imperceptible degrees, to the Negro race, provided the intercourse takes place in Negro countries. This circumstance gives some countenance to a hypothesis which may be thus stated:-Though children in tropical climates may be born apparently white, of parents whom the solar heat has darkened in hue, and though we have not the means of ascertaining that white nations, exposed in tropical climates for ages, do become darker, still, in conformity with the well-known law of the transmission of hereditary mental qualities, parents so blackened may communicate a slight, though imperceptible, tinge to their offspring, who will thus enter on existence with a larger share of black than their parents, and, if equally exposed themselves, will convey more to the next generation. Thus the black tribes of Africa may have become so throughout a long succession of ages, while the more recently peopled countries of tropical America exhibit the process in comparatively an early stage. It is needless to present, in opposition to this theory, that no change has been observable since the discovery of America; for the ages required for the process must have been analogous to those required for geological phenomena, and not to be squared with our usual ideas of time.

All the variations in the external appearance of man, however, cannot be referred to the influence of the solar heat, though, before mentioning other causes, we may point out another clear instance of its action. In the case of the aborigines of Hindostan, who are somewhat browned in complexion, the action of climate is clearly observable; which is proved by the circumstance of the female inhabitants of the harem, derived from the same stock, being generally very fair in hue. This is unquestionably the consequence of their se cluded life, which prevents that exposure of person which their relations of the other sex necessarily undergo. And, indeed, were colour the only point to be considered, the doctrine of the action of climate might be held to be the best means of accounting for the wide varieties of the human species. But there are other things besides colour to be looked to. "The causes," says Mr Lawrence, "which operate on the bodies of living animals, either modify the individual or alter the offspring. The former are of great importance in the history of animals, and produce considerable alterations in individuals; but the latter are the most powerful, as they affect the species and cause the diversities of man. Great influence has at all times been ascribed to climate, which indeed has been very loosely and indefinitely represented as the cause of most important modifications in the human subject and in other animals. Differences of colour, stature, hair, features, and those of moral and intellectual character, have been alike referred to the action of this mysterious cause, without any attempt to show which of the circumstances, comprehended under the word cation of the mode in which the point is accomplished. climate, produces the effect in question, or any indiThat the constitution of the atmosphere varics in respect to light, heat, moisture, and electricity, and that these variations, with those of elevation, soil, winds, vegetable productions, will operate decidedly on individuals, I do not mean to deny. While, however, we have no precise information on the kind or degree of influence attributable to such causes, we have abundance of proof that they are entirely inadequate to account for the differences between the va where manufactures are carried on to any extent, that portion of the population engaged in them are observed to have sallow complexions, resulting from the con

istic of the white race is worthy of mention, and is dependent on the purity of their skin. This is the

The Mulatto is the offspring, in the first generation,

been perceived in any other portion of mankind. In Europe, some parts of Africa, and a large portion of Asia, the white race has been localised from time immemorial, modified by the occasional incursions of conquerors from other quarters, and the influence of climate; though neither of these causes is found in any instance to have operated to such an extent as to obliterate the marks of the pure stock. An exception, as it may be called, from all the races, takes the direction of the peculiarity in this class, but does not on that account belong to it. We allude to the Albinos, persons of an unnatural degree of whiteness, who are occasionally produced both by Negro and white races. The Albinos are sometimes of a slightly reddish hue, but invariably have very light

in countenance, in eye and hair, the Mulatto divides the properties of his parents. The skin is a tawny

brown.

The Terceron is produced from an European and Mulatto. Being the second removal from Negro blood, the characters of the fair race slightly predominate. The skin is brownish, the cheek is red, and the eyes are occasionally blue, with light hair.

The Quadroon (Quarteron) is descended from an European and Terceron. Here the properties of the black race are nearly lost, and the want of some political rights in their full extent is almost the only trace of their African great-grandfather or mother.

The Quinteron is considered, in the eyes of the law, pure white, being the next in the line of descent we have traced.

cultural labourers are tanned by exposure to sun and air. But here the difference ceases. The offspring of both are fair alike at birth, though the circumstances of the parents may soon confer their own peculiarities. But though climate appears altogether insufficient to account for the great diversities in the human family, it unquestionably, in the lapse of many centuries, makes an impression not easily removed. It is from examining analogous cases of variety in the an mal creation, that we are to find the main solution of the difficulty, without resorting to the supposition of separate origin. Animals to which we unhesitatingly assign a common erigin, are, if a judgment can be formed from exterior alone, so different as scarcely to warrant our bestowing on them the same generic naye. And yet we know that in the course of a few genera

Whatever may be the immediate or remote causes of the dark complexion of the Negro, philosophical inquiry has shown us that to him it is a provision of mercy and benevolence. It can be shown that hot water, in vessels of different colours and the same capacity, cools fastest in the dark or black ones. The black colour of the native of the tropical regions may justly then be considered as a wise expedient provided by Omnipotence for cooling the fever of the blood under the influence of a scorching sun.

This interesting branch of philosophical investigation is admirably summed up by M. Buffon, and the conclusion he arrives at has the pleasing character of philanthropy. "Upon the whole, every circumstance concurs in proving that mankind are not composed of species essentially different from each other; that, on the contrary, there was originally but one species, which, after multiplying and spreading over the whole surface of the earth, has undergone various changes by the influence of climate, food, mode of living, diseases, and mixture of dissimilar individuals; that, at first, these changes were not so conspicuous, and produced only individual varieties; that these varieties became afterwards more specific, because they were rendered more general, more strongly marked, and more permanent, by the continual action of the same causes; that they are transmitted from generation to generation, as deformities or diseases pass from parents to children; and that, lastly, as they were originally produced by a train of external or accidental causes, and have only been perpetuated by time, and the constant operation of these causes, it is probable that they will gradually disappear, or at least that they will differ from what they are at present, if the causes which produced them should cease, or if their operation should be varied by other circumstances and combinations."-The other points of variety between the different races of mankind may form the subject of a subsequent article.

THE BILLIARD TABLE,
A STORY.*

On one of those clear nights in December, when the cloudless blue sky studded with millions of brilliant luminaries, shining with more than ordinary lustre, a young gentleman was seen rapidly pacing one of the principal streets of Pittsburg. Had he been a lover of nature, the beauty of the heavens must have attracted his observation; but he was too much wrapt up in his thoughts, or in his cloak, to throw a single glance towards the silent orbs, that glowed so beauteously in the firmament. A piercing wind swept through the streets, moaning and sighing, as if it felt the pain that it inflicted. The intense coldness of the weather had driven the usual loiterers of the night from their accustomed lounging places.

On reaching the outlet of an obscure alley, the young gentleman paused, cast a suspicious glance around, as if fearful of observation, and then darted into the gloomy passage. A few rapid steps brought him to the front of a wretched frame building, apparently untenanted, or occupied only as a warehouse, through whose broken panes the wind whistled, while the locked doors seemed to bid defiance to any ingress but that of the piercing element. It was in truth a lonely back building, in the heart of the town, but so concealed by the surrounding houses, that it might as well have been in the silent bosom of the forest. A narrow flight of stairs, ascending the outside of the edifice, led to an upper story. Ascending these, the youth, opening the door with the familiarity of an accustomed visitor, emerged from the gloom of the night, into the light and life of the billiard room.

It was a large apartment, indifferently lighted, and meanly furnished. In the centre stood the billiard table, whose allurements had enticed so many on this evening to forsake the quiet and virtuous comforts of social life, and to brave the biting blast, and the not

From a volume entitled the "* Soldier's Bride and other Tales, by James Hall." Philadelphia, 1833. – We have altered a few passages to suit the moral purpose of our paper.

The stained and dirty floor was strewed with fragments of cigars, play-bills, and nut-shells; the walls, blackened with smoke, seemed to have witnessed the orgies of many a midnight revel. A few candles, destined to illumine the distant recesses of the room, hung neglected against the walls-bowing their long wicks, and marking their stations by streams of tallow, which had been suffered to accumulate through many a long winter night. The ceiling was hung with cobwebs, curiously intermingled with dense clouds of tobacco smoke, and tinged by the straggling rays of light, which occasionally shot from the sickly tapers. A set of benches, attached to the walls, and raised sufficiently high to overlook the table, accommodated the loungers, who were not engaged at play, and who sat or reclined solemnly puffing their cigars, idly sipping their brandy and water-or industriously counting the chances of the game; but all observing a profound silence, which would have done honour to a turbaned divan, and was well suited to the important subjects of their contemplation. Little coteries of gayer spirits laughed and chatted aside, or made their criticisms on the players in subdued accents; any remarks on that subject being forbidden to all but the parties engaged; while the marker announced the state of the game, trimmed the lamps. and supplied refreshments to the guests.

Mr St Clair, the gentleman whom we have taken the liberty of tracing to this varied scene, was cordially greeted on his entrance by the party at the table, who had been denouncing the adverse elements which had caused the absence of several of their choicest spirits. The game at which they were then playing being one which admitted of an indefinite number of players, St Clair was readily permitted to take a ball; and, engaging with ardour in the fascinating amusement, was soon lost to all that occurred beyond the little circle of its witchery.

The intense coldness of the night was so severely felt in the badly-warmed apartment which we have attempted to describe, that the party broke up earlier than usual. One by one they dropped off, until St Clair and another of the players were left alone. These, being both skilful, engaged each other singlehanded, and became so deeply interested as scarcely to observe the defection of their companions, until they found the room entirely deserted. The night was far spent. The marker, whose services were no longer required, was nodding over the grate; the candles were wasting in their sockets, and although a steady brilliance still fell upon the table, the back ground was as dark as it was solitary.

The most careless observer might have remarked the great disparity of character exhibited in the two players, who now matched their skill in this graceful and fascinating game. St Clair was a genteel young man of about five and twenty. His manners had all the ease of one accustomed to the best society; his countenance was open and prepossessing; his whole demeanour frank and manly. There was a careless gaiety in his air, happily blended with an habitual politeness and dignity of carriage, which added much to the ordinary graces of youth and amiability. His features displayed no trace of thought or genius, for Mr St Clair was one of that large class, who please without design and without talent, and who, by dint of light hearts and graceful exteriors, thrive better in this world than those who think and feel more acutely. He was a man of small fortune, and was happily married to a lovely young woman, to whom he was devotedly attached; and who, when she bestowed her hand, had given him the entire possession of a warm and spotless heart. They had lately arrived at Pittsburg, and being about to settle in some part of the western country, had determined to spend the ensuing spring and summer in this city, where Mrs St Clair might enjoy the comforts of good society until her husband prepared their future residence for her reception.

His opponent was some ten years older than himself; a short, thin, straight man, with a keen eye and sallow complexion. He was one of those persons who may be seen in hoals at the taverns and gambling houses of large American towns, and who mingle with better people in stage-coaches and steam-boats. He had knocked about the world, as his own expression was, until, like an old coin whose original impression has been worn off, he had few marks left by which his birth or country could be traced. But, like that same coin, the surface only was altered, the base metal was unchanged. In short, he was a gambler, who roamed from town to town, preying upon thoughtless young men, and employing as much industry as would make the fortunes of half a dozen mechanics.

Such were the players who were left together, like the last champions at a tournament, who, after van

"You are a married man, I believe ?" said he. "Yes, sir." "That was bad play; you had nearly missed the ball." "You spoke to me just as I was striking," said St Clair, good humouredly. "Oh! I beg pardon. Where did you learn to play billiards ?" "In Philadelphia." "Do they understand the game?" "I have seen some fine players there." "Very likely. But I doubt whether they play the scientific game. New Orleans is the only place. There they go it in style. See there now!-that was a very bad play of yours. You played on the wrong ball. You married men are accustomed to early hours, and get sleepy earlier than we do." "I did not think I had shown any symptoms of drowsiness." 66 Oh, no! I meant no allusion. There's another bad play of yours." "You will find I play sufficiently well before we are done." "Oh! no doubt. I meant nothing. You play an elegant game. But, then, you married men get scared when it grows late. No man can play billiards when he is in a hurry to go home. A married gentleman can't help thinking of the sour looks and cross answers he is apt to get when he goes home after midnight.” “I will thank you to make no such allusions to me," said St Clair; "I am neither scared nor sleepy, but able to beat you as long as you please." "Oh, very well!-I don't value myself on my playing. Shall we double the bet ?" "If you please." "Agreed. Now do your best, or I shall beat you.”

Pestered by this impertinence, St Clair lost several games. His want of success added to his impatience; and his tormentor continued to vex him with taunting remarks until his agitation became uncontrollable. He drank to steady his nerves, but drink only inflamed his passion. He doubled, trebled, quadrupled the bet to change his luck; but in vain. Every desperate attempt urged him towards his ruin; and it was happy for him that his natural good sense enabled him to stop before his fate was consummated, though not until he had lost a large sum.

Vexed with his bad fortune, St Clair left the house of dissipation, and turned his reluctant steps towards his own dwelling. His slow and thoughtful pace was now far different from the usual lightness of his graceful carriage. It was not that he feared the frown of his lovely wife; for to him her brow had always been unclouded, and her lips had only breathed affection. She was one of those gentle beings, whose sweetness withers not with the hour or the season, but endures through all vicissitudes.

It was the recollection of that fervent and forbearing love, that now pressed like a leaden weight upon the conscience of the gambler, when he reflected upon the many little luxuries, and innocent enjoyments, of which that lovely woman had deprived herself, while he had squandered vast sums in selfish dissipation. Having never before lost so much at play, this view of the case had not occurred to him; and it now came home to his bosom with full force, bringing pangs of the keenest self-reproach. He recalled the many projects of domestic comfort they had planned together, some of which must now be delayed by his imprudence. That very evening they had spoken of the rural dwelling they intended to inhabit; and Louisa's taste had suggested a variety of improvements, with which it should be embellished. When he left her, he promised to return soon; and now, after a long absence, he came, the messenger, if not of ruin, at least of disappointment. The influence of wine, and the agitation of his mind, had wrought up the usually placid feelings of St Clair into a state of high excitement. His imagination wandered to the past and to the future, and every picture that he contemplated added to his pain.

"I will go to Louisa," said he. "I will confess all. Late as it is, she is still watching for me. Poor girl!-she little thinks, that, while she has been counting the heavy hours of my absence, I have been madly courting wretchedness for myself, and preparing the bitter cup of affliction for her."

In this frame of mind he reached his own door, and tapped gently for admittance. He was surprised that his summons was not immediately answered, for the watchful solicitude of his wife had always kept her from retiring in his absence. He knocked again and again and at last, when his patience was nearly exhausted, a slipshod housemaid came shivering to the door. He snatched the candle from her hand, and ascended to his chamber. It was deserted!

"Where is Mrs St Clair ?" said he to the maid who had followed him. "Gone". "Gone! Where ?" Why, sir, she went away with a gentleman.” Away with a gentleman! Impossible!" "Yes, sir, indeed she went off with a gentleman in a carriage." "When?where did she go?" "I don't know where she went, sir; she never intimated a word to me. She started just after you left home." "Did she leave no message ?" "No, sir, not any: she was in a great hurry."