his horse suddenly round, stood directly before her, and confronted her with a look full of despair. That intense, though momentary gaze, seemed to plant a dagger in her breast, and as the young man turned to join his comrades, she sank back on her seat insensible.

"She had recognized in him, young Duvernet, a neighbor's son, with whom she had grown up in habits of intimacy. He had loved her well, and she had not withheld encouragement from his suit, till dazzled by the superior accomplishments of the Chevalier. Now, heartbroken by her inconstancy, he had devoted himself to death!

"She crushed down her feelings, but that look of reproachful anguish was ever in her thoughts. She grew melancholy, and the change was not unnoticed by her husband. Angela became aware of this, and exerted herself to control her feelings, for the Chevalier treated her with unlimited indulgence, and strove to gratify her every wish. In the exercise of duty, her happiness gradually returned; but it was soon clouded by the illness and death of her father.

sympathy. Often would she lie awake, weeping and praying, whole nights; and when, towards the dawn, she heard her husband's carriage before the door, and the heavy money-box brought into the hall, his harsh voice giving orders, and the doors of his apartments slamming after him as he went to bed, she would burst into tears afresh, and pray more earnestly that Heaven would terminate her miserable life.

"One night, in the gaming-house where the Chevalier presided, a young man, whose fortune had been sacrificed at play, started up from the table where he had lost the last stake, and shot himself through the head. His blood and brains besprinkled the players, who all fled in horror. The Chevalier alone remained in his place, perfectly indifferent, and asked if it was one of the rules of the game, to leave it unfinished, because a fool thought proper to kill himself.

"The players were indignant at the Chevalier's coldblooded behavior. The affair became public; the police interfered, and the bank was broken up. The Chevalier was indicted for fraud in playing; in no other way could

to disburse heavily to procure his liberty. He saw himself disgraced; shunned by all; he returned to his wife, who received him with open arms, and ventured once again to indulge the hope of his amendment.

“Since the night on which he had lost all his posses-people account for his wonderful luck. He was obliged sions to the Chevalier, Vertua had never touched a card; but in his last moments, the passion for play occupied his whole soul. While the priest was endeavoring to administer the consolations of religion, he lay with closed eyes, muttering between his teeth, 'perde,' 'gagne,' and imitating, with his trembling hands, the motion of one who deals the cards. In vain did Angela and her husband strive, by every effort of tenderness, to recall his thoughts. He knew them not, but sighing 'I have lost!' expired.

"Angela was overwhelmed with anguish, less for the loss of her parent, than the awful circumstances of his death. The Chevalier was still kind to her, but moody and abstracted; and a presentiment of yet greater evil | came upon her. She feared every moment lest he should drop the mask, and return to the vice of his former life. "There was but too much reason for her fears. The fiend-like passion had revived, in all its energy, in the bosom of the Chevalier. He thought and dreamed of nothing but play, and of accumulating riches. He was wearied of his quiet, domestic life. His discontent was increased, and his resolution fixed, by a few interviews with one of his former associates, who laughed at his scruples, and taunted him with being held in bondage by his wife. He called Menars a fool to give up the world for a woman's sake; and Menars thought this argument quite conclusive.

"The Chevalier, with his wife, left Paris, and took up his residence at Genoa. Here he lived secluded from society; and might have been happy, had the bad spirit been expelled from his soul. Alas! the demon soon entangled him again in his chains, and this time, beyond redemption.

"His evil reputation had followed him from Paris to Genoa, so that he dared not venture to set up a bank. The richest bank in Genoa, at this time, belonged to a Colonel in the French army, who had left the service on account of a dangerous wound, which unfitted him for active employment. The Chevalier visited the gaminghouse where he presided, and envious of his good fortune, resolved to venture his own luck against him. The Colonel bade him welcome; and the first deal proved in his favor, as it was wont to be. But the blind goddess soon showed herself fickle, and before he rose from the table, the Chevalier had lost a considerable sum.

"The Colonel encouraged him to persevere; but from that moment Fortune turned her back upon her former favorite. He played every night—lost every night; still he desperately went on, till a few thousand ducats, in paper money, was all that remained to him.

"The day after he was thus reduced, he ran about the city, getting his money changed into gold. At dusk, his pockets filled with the gold pieces, he was leaving his own house, when Angela, pale and weeping, threw herself at his feet, and implored him, by all he held sacred, not to persevere in this course, which must lead to ruin and misery.

"It was not long before the Chevalier established a bank, which soon became as rich as his former one. His luck did not desert him; and he had plenty of victims on his list, whose fortunes went to swell his treasures. Poor Angela! her happiness was for ever destroyed. She was awakened from a long, pleasing dream, to certain misery. Her husband, who found the reproach of her pale face and wasting form intolerable, "The Chevalier raised his poor wife, pressed her to treated her with coldness, and soon with contempt. his bosom, and said with stifled voice, 'Angela—my Sometimes she saw him not for days together. He injured Angela! it must be so! I must do it. But dismissed all her servants, and supplied their places to-morrow-to-morrow, dismiss your cares, for I swear with others; and Angela found herself destitute of all to you I am going to play to-night for the last time!

Be calm, Angela! Go to sleep-dream of happier || mastered his agitation sufficiently to reply with pretended days—go to sleep, and if you are at peace, I shall have calmness- Angela, my wife, shall decide!' He then better luck!' He kissed her forehead, and abruptly followed the Colonel toward his own house. quitted the house.

"Two deals-and the Chevalier had lost his all! Motionless-almost breathless, he stood and gazed, as if stupified with anguish, on the table.

"You play no more, Chevalier?' asked the Colonel, as he shuffled the cards for a new deal.

44

They entered the hall. The Colonel was proceeding to Angela's chamber, when the Chevalier drew him back.

"She is sleeping; will you awaken her?' "Hem!' answered Duvernet; 'do you suppose she has had much undisturbed sleep since you have made

"I have lost all!' replied Menars, with forced calm- her so wretched?'

ness.

"The Chevalier groaned deeply. He fell on his

"Have you, indeed, nothing farther to stake?' said knees before the Colonel, and cried in agony, 'Be mer

the Colonel.
"I am
a beggar!' answered the Chevalier. His
voice trembled, but he suppressed all other signs of
emotion.

"The Colonel went on quietly dealing the cards.
"Before the next deal, he said softly, without looking
at Menars, You have yet left-a lovely wife!'

"What of her?' demanded the Chevalier, sternly. The other did not immediately reply.

"Ten thousand ducats against-Angela?' said he, half turning round, as he handed the cards to be cut. "You are mad!' cried the Chevalier. "Twenty thousand ducats against Angela?' said the Colonel, in a whisper, stopping a moment before he began to deal.

ciful! You have made me a beggar-leave me my wife!" "It was thus old Vertua knelt at your feet, unfeeling villain, and you had no mercy upon him. The vengeance of Heaven has overtaken you!'

64

Having thus spoken, Duvernet turned and walked towards Angela's chamber.

"The Chevalier sprang before him to the door, flung it open, and rushed to the bed where his wife lay. He drew aside the curtains, crying, Angela! Angela !' but she did not reply. He stooped over her, seized her hand, let it fall suddenly, and staggered backward into the room, pointing, at the same time, towards the bed. The Colonel, alarmed, went and parted the curtains. Angela lay there a corpse !

"Duvernet threw his arms toward heaven, and with a

"The Chevalier was silent a few seconds, then with cry of horror, rushed from the house. None of his a gloomy frown he consented to the stake.

A few moments, and all was lost! Gnashing his teeth, he started up, and pale as death, staggered to the window.

"The players departed; the Colonel approached his victim, and said in a low tone, 'Well, what farther?' "Ay!' cried the Chevalier, in a voice hoarse with emotion, 'you have made me a beggar, but you must be a madman to suppose you have won my wife. Ha! is my wife a slave, to be bought and sold?'

"If she is willing to go with me," answered the Colonel, 'I have bought the right to take her, at the risk of twenty thousand ducats.'

"She will spurn you!' exclaimed the Chevalier; 'she will scorn your infamous proffers! Ha, ha! you have risked your ducats for nothing!'

"I do not despair,' replied the Colonel, laughing scornfully. How can Angela help abhorring one who heaped on her such misery and shame? It is you she will reject. Yet more; you deem me a madman! a fool, who will find himself cheated of his prize? Chevalier, your wife loves me-ay, me loved me before your hated arts separated us! I am that Duvernet, to whom her love was pledged ere she saw you-ere you bought the daughter's hand by the ruin of the father! She repented it when it was too late! Ha, do you shrink? I have avenged your victims! I resolved on your ruin; I devoted myself to play-I followed you to Genoa! I have succeeded! and now to your wife!'

"The Chevalier stood as if struck by a thunderbolt, at this terrible disclosure. He saw all the load of misery he had brought upon poor Angela. He now feared, in truth, that she would desert him. After a while he

friends ever heard of him afterwards."

The stranger, having ended his story, rose abruptly and left the arbor, before the Baron, who had been deeply interested, could utter a word.

Some days after, the Baron heard that the stranger was ill in his chamber, and went to see him. He expired without being able to speak with his young friend, but from some papers he left, Siegfried learned that he was no other than the unfortunate Chevalier Menars.

The Baron profited by the warning, and the dreadful example of the evils of gaming, and vowed solemnly have never heard that he failed to keep this promise. never afterwards to be guilty of that fearful vice. We

Original.

JUST SEVENTEEN.

JUST seventeen! the sweetest age,
That's entered in fair beauty's page;
Lips like the rose-bud cleft in twain,
With pearly gems the cleft to stain;
Eyes like twin stars, beneath some cloud,
That comes their sparkling light to shroud;
Rich tresses of the auburn glow,
Free waving o'er a brow of snow;
And then the bosom heaving, swelling,
Where tickling Cupid holds his dwelling-
Of woman's life, no year I ween,

Is like soft, pouting seventeen.

ROBERT HAMILTON.

Original.

FEMALE IRRELIGION. It would be difficult to determine which is the most disgusting, religious cant or open and avowed infidelity, if even the pretence to belief, were not an acknowledgment that we ought to have faith, and that unbelief is to be avoided as a sin against conscience and against society. Hypocricy is among the most hateful of the blemishes that disfigure the human character, and is so repugnant to the fine feelings of a man of honor, that he sometimes rather loosely pronounces it even more contemptible than the undisguised revilings of professed skepticism; and to a merely superficial observer of human frailty it is so. The man who but partially studies his own bosom and passes his impressions off for thought, would always come to that conclusion; for meanness and manliness are such opposite qualities that the contrast strikes powerfully; and sometimes the case is decided without due discrimination. Nothing is more natural than to decide between affected piety and acknowledged disregard of religion, on this ground. A well constituted mind so abhors hypocricy in all its shapes and has so utter a loathing for the snivel of church-going-cant and for the frivolity of its professions, that it frequently finds itself ready to yield its preferences even to an infidelity that at least steers clear of deception. The conclusion is wrong, but we repeat, that it is natural; and have no hesitation in adding, is grounded upon a good feeling, though erroneously applied.

flouter of religion is by no means among the most attrac tive members of the community, and that whatever may be the strength or weakness of individual belief in revelation, decent people look with horror on such disciples of depravity. They find no favor even among those who

have their own abstract embarrassments in belief. What

then is the light in which a woman is looked at under such circumstances? It is to this point we speak; it was this aspect of the case which led us to a consideration of the subject, and all that has been said before must be excused as introductory-possibly a lawyer might call it 'surplussage."

An irreligious man-one who professes to be so, and glories in his own shame—who considers it an honorable distinction to be ranked among unbelievers, and who mouths blasphemy among his acquaintances as a sort of accomplishment to be proud of, is unquestionably disgusting enough; he takes decided precedence of the porter-house drunkard who blurts blasphemy over his mug of Albany ale without knowing what he says, and is merely vulgar and profane amidst an association whose whole object is a forgetfulness at once of self-respect as well as of respect for every thing else. There may be excuse for such excesses, though there is certainly no justification for them. But, what extenuation can be awarded to the female who so far forgets herself and her sex as to repudiate the God who made her by contravening his ordinances. What possible palliation can she plead? Man may make himself a beast, and does so very often, but, can woman brutify herself to his levelthe lowest level of human nature-without exciting special wonder? Humiliating enough is it, that she sometimes

quently found capable of disregarding the sanctity of earthly associations, but, it is too bad to believe that she can voluntarily jeopardize the safety of her soul!

That she sometimes holds her immortal existence in quite as slight esteem as she does her earthly fame, is, however, but too manifest from her history, and especially from her modern history. Even her superstition-if you please fanaticism-has sometimes added charms to the amiability of woman; she has frequently found a salvo even in her faults-would it be too much to say that she has

These thoughts, cursorily and perhaps carelessly thrown together, are intended as a merely prefatory vindication of the writer of the few remarks that will follow, from a charge that may possibly be brought against himself.debases herself to personal pollution—that she is freHe would guard with more solicitude against the suspicion of insincerity than against any other imputation with which his character might be assailed. What he says, he feels, and what he utters, though it may be very erroneous or very silly, is always uttered with the single hope that it will be deemed in earnest and be received in good faith. Give credence to his sincerity and less is cared about the estimate that may be made of other qualities. With the firmest faith in the reality of religion, and with the full belief for ourselves that Christianity is the most rational as it certainly is the most benign and most prac-made herself interesting in her crime? The reader of tical code of spiritual and temporal guidance, it is by no means our purpose to defend its tenets, urge its authenticity, or prove either its purity or its divine origin. All this will be taken for granted. It has already been too ably and too conclusively established by other hands to leave any such necessity to us. Such is not the object.

her history must answer, no. It would be exceedingly easy to adduce a thousand instances in proof of this position, and to exhibit a catalogue as long as all the muster rolls of female "benevolent societies" in Europe and America. Sorry are we to say so, but, a great many of the distinguished women in the world, have been We have a merely isolated aim. This article is a bad women! It were gross slander on the sex, however, "lay discourse" altogether, and though it claims to be to say that the pestilence has been general or that perChristian in its tone and spirit and object, it were fair to nicious example has by any means been followed to any say in the onset that its writer makes no specific profes- alarming extent. It has not been followed but avoided sions of any thing but belief and a uniformity of endeavor by the great majority. Woman is intrinsically the salt and to square his acts as nearly as possible to the precepts of savour of human existence; but for her the world would "the faith that is in him." Graduated to the standard by not be worth inhabiting. Her presence is all that renwhich some sects measure their members, he wouldders it desirable to live! What, then, would be the come abundantly too far short to be admitted. At any condition of the world if women were to volunteer an inrate he hopes so. fidelity that would render it wretched? Who under the We believe that it will be conceded that your male light of heaven could sustain the wish to live on earth

after its brightest ornament and its only comfort had concluded to render it wretched by banishing the belief that its dearest hopes and its most cherished associations were but a miserable imposture! Suicide is the only resource that can occur to him who, confiding to woman, has faith in her infidelity! Who could wish to cling to his existence, in the belief that his sister, his mother, or his wife! is of opinion that his faith is false and that the cherished affections of his heart and the precepts of his education are no better than so much deception!

to respect by denouncing religion, and loses caste even
within its own narrow circle of associates, to what
fathomless depth of degradation and contempt does
female character plunge itself by such denunciation!
Contempt is not the word we should use.
It is not con-
tempt with which we contemplate the spectacle of a
woman who has so far forgotten her sex and her nature
as to proclaim herself an unbeliever-it is horror! We
shrink from her presence, as we would avoid a viper.
Female skepticism is social poison-it is the bohon upas
of civilized society. No man approaches it but with
dread, and even the criminal, condemned to die under its
branches, would prefer any other death. It is impossible
to imagine any thing more than half as hideous as woman's
deformity in this aspect. To find her in the haunts of

For the purpose of placing a proposition before the reader, not actually conceded with any other view than to exhibit its intrinsic absurdity, let it be admitted that religion is of doubtful reality-if you please, of more than dubious authenticity in its origin-suppose if you please, that it is mere poetry and fiction-if our religion, the re-infamy, to look upon her in her lowest estate in any staligion of Jesus Christ furnishes the best examples and tion, were painful enough; but, we submit to every man affords the purest axioms of human action, were it well of proper feeling if he ever yet saw woman in any other to discard its rules and repudiate its precepts? Cer-grade of debasement quite so low or quite so striking in tainly not, as it seems to us. At all events, it will always be impossible to convince us that unbelief in woman is not the most revolting feature in human character. To look without loathing upon a lady-libertine, is impossible, and to behold her in the light of the worst of all libertinism-infidelity-is enough to make us forget that she is woman-in fact, to regret that woman ever came

on earth!

the utter profundity of her fall, as when he has heard her avow herself an infidel? It may have been his lot to fall in with a female felon in a Court of Justice, and possibly he may have seen a woman on the gallows, but did he ever look upon her with as much loathing? Woman may steal or she may murder and go to gaol or to the gallows for the crime, for she shares a common lot in the division of human frailty; but she was not made for Owenism!

Thoughtlessness and levity are, perhaps, characteristics of the sex, and far be it from us to find fault with them; Fanny Wright is no woman-mother though she be. volatility and vivacity may run into thoughtlessness and She is merely a "man-milliner" who furbishes up matters do so sometimes very gracefully, but irreligion is unen-marital without too scrupulous an inquiry into dates. In durable. A woman's unbelief in religion is scarcely other words, she is, exceptio probat regulum, and a less derogatory than an avowed disparagement of chastity. || very decided exception she is. If it had so chanced that In our opinion, there is about as much depravity in the one as the other.

||

she had been born a few years sooner, she would most certainly have been whipped-dreadfully whipped tooThat our holy religion is "worthy of all acceptation" || through every county and township in which she ventured —that he who scoff's at its rites or its ordinances deserves herself, and deserved every lash vouchsafed to her: for not only the penalty of its own denunciations, but the though every son and daughter of Adam and Eve have scorn of every well regulated mind, must be acknow- the right to the free exercise of their own opinions, and ledged even by those who have no formal connexion with though we would be the last to coerce restraint upon the Christian Church. The despiser is disgusting, as we them, yet we do maintain that they have no right to obverily believe, to his own comrades in vulgarity. It has trude them on the public. People cannot very well be always seemed to us so, at any rate. We have rarely punished for taking arsenic, especially if they take it in witnessed a rowdyism of unbelievers, in which each in- || doses potent enough to kill themselves, but they have no dividual did not seem to crave a monopoly of the blas- right to poison the public wells. Suicide is a crime that phemy for himself. While he was uttering the common-human laws find it difficult to reach after the perpetration, places of infidelity from his own mouth it was all very but, it is their duty to do execution upon all other homiwell and he considered it very current wit; but, the mo- cide, because the criminal leaves himself amenable to ment that an associate launched into a similar strain human punishment. he became shocked, and hardly ever failed of rebuking! the enormity. There is something intrinsically revolting in irreligion, even among the very men who delude themselves into the belief that they possess it. When Dr. Young said,

"An undevout astronomer is mad,"

he might very well have added that a pretended unbeliever is not only a fool but a liar. He is a liar since he utters the grossest of untruths, and he is a fool for supposing.it possible to make any body believe him!

What must be said of woman under such circumstances? If the rougher and ruder sex forfeit all claim

We do not pretend to an understanding of other people's feelings, but we claim the right to represent our own; and begging the privilege of assuming them to be in consonance with the feelings of a majority-we trust a very large majority-of mankind, there will be no hesitation in saying that there is not on earth, in the waters underneath, or in the heavens that overhang it, so deeply disgusting an object as a woman who repudiates religion. Woman may unsex herself by profanity of merely colloquial language, and that is degradation deep enough, she may be a curser and swearer with some slight hope of amendment; it is not utterly impossible that her last and