and he lacked neither the tact nor the opportunities necessary for accomplishing his purpose. The altered demeanour of Mrs Beauchamp, together with the haughty and constrained civility of her son, soon warned Mr Eccles that his departure from the Hall could not be delayed; and he very shortly withdrew.

Mr Beauchamp began to breathe freely, as it were, when the evil spirit, in his tutor's shape, was no longer at his elbow, poisoning his principles, and prompting him to vice and debauchery. He resolved, forthwith, to be all that his tutor had represented him to his mother; to atone for past indiscretions, by a life of sobriety and virtue. All now went on smoothly and happily at the Hall. The new squire entered actively on the duties devolving upon him, and was engaged daily driving his beautiful cousin over his estate, and shewing to his obsequious tenantry their future lady. On what trifling accidents do often the great changes of life depend! Mr Beauchamp, after a three months' continuance in the country, was sent for by his solicitor to town, in order to complete the final arrangements of his estate; and which, he supposed, would occupy him but a few days. That London visit led to his ruin! It may be recollected that the execrable Eccles owed his pupil a grudge for the disappointment he had occasioned him, and the time and manner of his dismissal. What does the reader imagine was the diabolical device he adopted, to bring about the utter ruin of his unsuspicious pupil? Apprized of Mr Beauchamp's visit to London,-[Mr Eccles had removed to lodgings, but a little distance from the Hall, and was of course acquainted with the leading movements of the family]-he wrote the following letter to a Baronet in London, with whom he had been very intimate as a "Plucker" at Oxford-and who having ruined himself by his devotion to play-equally in respect of fortune and character -was now become little else than a downright systematic sharper.

"DEAR SIR EDWard, "YOUNG Beauchamp, one of our quondam pigeons at Oxford, who has just come of age, will be in London next Friday or Saturday, and

He

put up at his old hotel, the will bear plucking. Verb. suf. The bird is somewhat shy-but you are a good shot. Don't frighten him. He is giving up life, and going to turn Saint! The fellow has used me cursedly ill; he has cut me quite, and refused me old Dr -'s living. I'll make him repent it! I will by ! "Yours ever, most faithfully, "PETER ECCLES." "TO SIR EDWARD STREIGHTON. "P.S. If Beauchamp plucks well, you won't press me for the trifle I owe-will you? Burn this note."

This infernal letter, which, by a singular concurrence of events, got into the hands where I saw it, laid the train for such a series of plotting and manoeuvring, as, in the end, ruined poor Beauchamp, and gave Eccles his coveted revenge.

When Beauchamp_quitted the Hall, his mother and Ellen had the most solemn assurance that his stay in town would not be protracted beyond the week. Nothing but this could quiet the good old lady's apprehensions, who expressed an unaccountable conviction that some calamity or other was about to assail their house. She had had a dreadful dream, she said; but when importuned to tell it, answered, that if Henry came safe home, then she would tell them her dream. In short, his departure was a scene of tears and gloom, which left an impression of sadness on his own mind, that lasted all the way up to town. On his arrival, he betook himself to his old place, the hotel, near Piccadilly; and, in order to expedite his business as much as possible, appointed the evening of the very day of his arrival for a meeting with his solicitor.

ful air, "Shew in Sir Edward, of course.

In a few moments the baronet was ushered into the room-made up to his old" friend," with great cordiality, and expressed a thousand winning civilities. He was attired in a style of fashionable negligence; and his pale emaciated features ensured him, at least, the shew of a welcome, with which he would not otherwise have been greeted; for Beauchamp, though totally ignorant of the present pursuits and degraded character of his visitor, had seen enough of him in the heyday of dissipation, to avoid a renewal of their intimacy. Beauchamp was touched with the air of languor and exhaustion assumed by Sir Edward, and asked kindly after his health.

The wily Baronet contrived to keep him occupied with that topic for nearly an hour, till he fancied he had established an interest for himself in his destined victim's heart. He told him, with a languid smile, that the moment he saw Beauchamp's arrival in the papers, he had hurried, ill as he was, to pay a visit to his " old chum," and "talk over old times." In short, after laying out all his powers of conversation, he so interested and delighted his quondam associate, that he extorted a reluctant promise from Beauchamp to dine with him the next evening, on the plausible pretext of his being in too delicate health to venture out himself at night-time. Sir Edward departed, apparently in a low mood, but really exulting in the success with which he considered he had opened his infernal campaign. He hurried to the house of one of his comrades in guilt, whom he invited to dinner on the morrow. Now, the fiendish object of this man, Sir Edward Streighton, in asking Beauchamp to dinner, was to revive in his bosom the half-extinguished embers of his love for play! There are documents now in existence to shew that Sir Edward and his companions had made the most exact calculations of poor Beauchamp's property, and even arranged the proportions in which the expected spoils were to be shared among the complotters! The whole conduct of the affair was intrusted, at his own instance, to Sir Edward; who, with a smile, declared

that he "knew all the crooks and crannies of young Beauchamp's heart;" and that he had already settled his scheme of operations. He was himself to keep for some time in the background, and on no occasion to come forward, till he was sure of his prey.

At the appointed hour, Beauchamp, though not without having experienced some misgivings in the course of the day, found himself seated at the elegant and luxurious table of Sir Edward, in company with two of the baronet's "choicest spirits." It would be superfluous to pause over the exquisite wines, and luscious cookery, which were placed in requisition for the occasion, or the various piquant and brilliant conversation that flashed around the table. Sir Edward was a man of talent and observation; and foul as were the scenes in which he had latterly passed his life, was full of rapid and brilliant repartee, and piquant sketches of men and manners, without end. Like the poor animal whose palate is for a moment tickled with the bait alluring it to destruction, Beauchamp was in ecstasies! There was, besides, such a flattering deference paid to every thing that fell from his lips-so much eager curiosity excited by the accounts he gave of one or two of his foreign adventures-such an interest taken in the arrangements he contemplated for augmenting his estates in- -shire, &c. &c. that Beauchamp never felt better pleased with himself, nor with his companions. About eleven o'clock, one of Sir Edward's friends proposed a rubber at whist, "thinking they had all of them talked one another hoarse," but Sir Edward promptly negatived it. The proposer insisted, but Sir Edward coldly repeated his refusal. not tired of my friends' conversation, though they may be of mine! And I fancy, Beauchamp," he continued, shaking his head with a serious air, "you and I have burnt our fingers too often at college, to be desirous of renewing our pranks."

66

"I am

"Why, good God, Sir Edward!" rejoined the proposer, "what do you mean? Are you insinuating that I am fond of deep play?-I, I that have been such a sufferer ?"-How was it that such shallow trickery could not be seen through by a man who knew

any thing of the world? The answer is obvious-the victim's penetration had deserted him: Flattery and wine -what will they not lead a man to? In short, the farce was so well kept up, that Beauchamp, fancying he alone stood in the way of the evening's amusements, felt himself called upon to "beg they would not consult him, if they were disposed for a rubber; as he would make a hand with the greatest pleasure imaginable." The proposer and his friend looked appealingly to Sir Edward.

"Oh! God forbid that I should hinder you, since you're all so disposed," said the Baronet, with a polite air; and in a few minutes the four friends were seated at the whist table. Sir Edward was obliged to send out and buy, or borrow cards! "He really so seldom," &c. &c. "especially in his poor health," &c. &c.! There was nothing whatever, in the conduct of the game, calculated to arouse a spark of suspicion. The three confederates acted their parts to admiration, and maintained throughout the matter-of-fact, listless air of men who have sat down to cards, each out of complaisance to the others! At the end of the second rubber, which was a long one, they paused a while, rose, and betook themselves to refreshments.

By the way, Apsley," said Sir Edward, suddenly, "have you heard how that extraordinary affair of General's, terminated?"

"Decided against him," was the reply; " but I think wrongly. At

"'s," naming a celebrated coterie," where the affair was ultimately canvassed, they were equally divided in opinion; and on the strength of it the General swears he wont pay."

"It is certainly one of the most singular things!"

Pray, what might the disputed point be?" enquired Beauchamp, sipping a glass of liqueur.

Oh, merely a bit of town tittletattle," replied Sir Edward, carelessly "about a Rouge et Noir bet between Lord and General

I dare say, you would feel no interest in it whatever."

But Beauchamp did feel interested enough to press his host for an account of the matter; and he presently found himself listening to a story

told most graphically by Sir Edward, and artfully calculated to interest and inflame the passions of his hearer. Beauchamp drank in eagerly every word. He could not help identifying himself with the parties spoken of. A Satanic smile flickered occasionally over the coun tenances of the conspirators, as they beheld these unequivocal indications that their prey was entering their toils. Sir Edward represented the hinge of the story to be a mootpoint at Rouge et Noir; and when he had concluded, an animated discussion arose. Beauchamp took an active part in the dispute, siding with Mr Apsley. Sir Edward got flustered and began to express himself rather heatedly. Beauchamp also felt himself kindling, and involuntarily cooled his ardour with glass after glass of the wine that stood before him. At length, out leaped a bold bet from Beauchamp, that he would make the same point with General

Sir Edward shrugged his shoulders, and with a smile declined " winning his money," on a point clear as the noonday sun! Mr Hillier, however, who was of Sir Edward's opinion, instantly took Beauchamp; and, for the symmetry of the thing, Apsley and Sir Edward, in spite of the latter's protestation to Beauchamp, betted highly on their respective opinions. Somebody suggested an adjournment to the "establishment" at Street, where they might decide the question; and thither, accordingly, after great shew of reluctance on the part of Sir Edward, they all four repaired.

The reader need not fear that I am going to dilate upon the sickening horrors of a modern" Hell!" for into such a place did Beauchamp find himself introduced. The infernal splendour of the scene by which he was surrounded, smote his soul with a sense of guilty awe the moment he entered, flushed though he was, and unsteady with wine. A spectral recollection of his mother and Ellen, wreathed with the halos of virtue and purity, glanced across his mind; and for a moment he thought himself in hell! Sick and faint, he sate down for a few moments at an unoccupied table. He felt half determined to rush out from the room. His kind friends perceived his agita

said," Mr Beauchamp, I do not understand you, sir. You are playing neither with boys nor swindlers; and be pleased, besides, to recollect at whose instance we sate down to this evening's hazard.”

Mr Beauchamp laughed it off, and protested he did his best. Apsley, apparently satisfied, resumed his play, and their victim felt himself in their meshes-that the "snare of the fowler was upon him." They played with various success for about two hours; and Sir Edward was listlessly intimating his intention to have a throw for the first time," for company's sake," when the card of a young nobleman, one of the most profligate of the profligate set whom Beauchamp had known at Oxford, was brought in.

"Ah! Lord !" exclaimed Sir Edward, with joyful surprise," an age since I saw him!-How very strange-how fortunate that I should happen to be here!-Oh, come, Beauchamp,"-seeing his host disposed to utter a frigid 'not at home,'

come, must ask him in! The very best fellow in life!" Now, Lord

and Sir Edward were bosom friends, equally unprincipled, and that very morning had they arranged this most unexpected visit of his Lordship! As soon as the ably-sustained excitement and enthusiasm of his lordship had subsided, he of course assured them that he should leave immediately, unless they proceeded with their play, and he stationed himself as an on-looker beside Beauchamp.

The infernal crew now began to see they had it "all their own way." Their tactics might have been finally frustrated, had Beauchamp but possessed sufficient moral courage to yield to the loud promptings of his better judgment, and firmly determined to stop in time. Alas! however, he had taken into his bosom the torpid snake, and kept it there till it revived. In the warmth of excitement he forgot his fears, and his decaying propensities to play were rapidly resuscitated. Before the evening's close, he had entered into the spirit of the game with as keen a relish as a professed gamester! With a sort of frenzy he proposed bets, which the cautious baronet and his coadjutors hesitated,

and at last refused, to take! About three o'clock they separated, and on making up accounts, they found that so equally had profit and loss been shared, that no one had lost or gained more than L.20. Beauchamp accepted a seat in Lord -'s box at the opera for the next evening; and the one following that he engaged to dine with Apsley. After his guests had retired, he betook himself to bed, with comparatively none of those heart-smitings which had kept him sleepless the night before. The men with whom he had been playing were evidently no professional gamblers, and he felt himself safe in their hands.

To the opera, pursuant to promise, he went, and to Apsley's. At the former he recognised several of his college acquaintance; and at the latter's house he spent a delightful evening, never having said better things, and never being more flatteringly attended to; and the night's social enjoyment was wound up with a friendly rubber for stakes laughably small. This was Sir Edward's scheme, for he was not, it will be recollected, to "frighten the bird." The doomed Beauchamp retired to rest, better satisfied with himself and his friends than ever; for he had transacted a little real business during the day; written two letters to the country, and dispatched them, with a pair of magnificent bracelets to Ellen; played the whole evening at unpretending whist, and won two guineas, instead of accompanying Lord and Hillier to the establishment in · street, where he might have lost hundreds. A worthy old English Bishop says, "The devil then maketh sure of us, when we do make sure of ourselves,"-a wise maxim! Poor Beauchamp now began to feel confidence in his own strength of purpose. He thought he had been weighed in the balance, and not found wanting. He was as deeply convinced as ever of the pernicious.effects of an inordinate love of play; but had he that passion? No! He recollected the healthful thrill of horror and disgust with which he listened to Lord -'s entreaties to accompany him to the gaming-house, and was satisfied. He took an early opportunity of writing home, to apprize his mother and