HOW TO PAY A DEBT OF HONOUR.

AN amusing incident lately took place in Paris, which can scarcely fail to afford some entertainment to our readers, especially as its truth may be relied upon. A young diplomatist of good family and fortune, whose handsome person, winning manners, and unalterable amiability, had insured to him that popularité de salon so essential to individuals of his craft, was, about a month ago, a guest at the mansion of one of the most celebrated Parisian célébrités, where the music of Musard, and the mysteries of high play, divided the attention of the brilliant crowds by whom the vast saloons were thronged. For a time M. de — suffered himself to be wholly engrossed by the goddesses of the ball-room; and to many a charming coquette and jewelled matron poured forth his offering of homage with the devotion for which he has been celebrated from his first entrée into the fashionable circles of the French capital; but at length, wearied by excitement, and "giddy from excess of light," he sauntered into an apartment sacred to the worship of Mammon, where he amused himself for some moments in watching the fluctuations of the various games which were progressing about him. This state of things could not, however, endure long. Paris is as proverbially a city of gamesters as St. Petersburgh itself; and every élégant who seeks to maintain his position in high society is quite as familiar with the cards and dice as with-we were about to say-his breviary; but as such a comparison would by no means have sufficed to imply what we intended to convey, we correct ourselves, and substitute in lieu thereof with his tailor's bills. Thus, then, M. de, from a spectator, soon became an actor in the busy scene; and drawing off his spotless gloves, and advancing a chair which stood temptingly beside a small table niched into a recess draperied with pale blue silk, found himself opposed to a stranger, by whom he had been invited to essay his skill, or to amuse his idleness, at one of those convenient games of chance which may be practised en tête-à-tête. Never were two individuals more opposed in manner and appearance than our hero and his antagonist. M. de was refined to a fault, and low-voiced as a woman, while the stranger was florid, loud, and abrupt, to a degree almost incompatible with his position as a man of fashion. Thus the parties were socially mismatched; but, under the circumstances, the cards were matter of more importance than the man, and the two antagonists at once proceeded to business. Our hero, who had prudently provided for exigencies of this nature, had a respectable sum about his person, and moreover piqued himself upon his savoir faire, but on this occasion he had unfortunately "reckoned without his host," for it soon became apparent that he was no match for his noisy opponent; and the shining Napoleons which he carelessly placed upon the table, soon made their way into the gousset of his exulting antagonist. That the play was perfectly fair he both felt and saw, but the success of the opposite party was so extraordinary that it piqued his vanity; and when he had exhausted his purse, he still resolved to persevere, feeling convinced that some sudden turn of fortune must soon enable him to redeem his ill-luck. He, consequently, explained to his antagonist that he had no more money about him, but that he was ready to continue the struggle on parole, a proposition

which was immediately accepted, and the game was renewed as energetically as ever, with the same unaccountable result. Prosperity had however, tended to overcome the good-breeding of his fortunate adversary, who became so much elated by the golden harvest which he continued to reap from the pertinacity of our hero, that his exultation grew wordy and noisy, and attracted a crowd of idlers about the table.

"And, nevertheless," he shouted, as he possessed himself of stake after stake, which he carefully scored against his victim; "nevertheless, Monsieur plays admirably, Monsieur is a perfect master of the game! Yet you see, gentlemen, you see that he cannot stand against my lucky

star.'

The spectators acquiesced and marvelled, and still the struggle continued. M. de who found it infinitely more easy to lose his money than to support the ill-timed hilarity of his companion, made no reply to the vain boasting by which his losses were aggravated; but he was a gentleman, and resolved not to afford the fortunate gamester the triumph of perceiving that he had ruffled his temper. Suddenly, however, the happy winner waxed more facetious than ever; and while recording each separate and additional gain, said with a mocking laugh, which excoriated the nerves of his antagonist,

"Again, my dear Monsieur ! You may write home to your family." The expression was futile enough; nor was it until it had been several times repeated that M. de began to feel irritated and impatient by its constant recurrence. He nevertheless contrived to control his annoyance, and persisted in playing until the party broke up, when he rose a debtor of a thousand crowns, in addition to the contents of his purse, to his unmannerly adversary.

"To-morrow, Monsieur," he said with studied courtesy, "this little affair shall be settled, and I will then trust to a future opportunity for my revanche."

His creditor laughed loudly once more, returned his parting bow, and our hero threw himself into his cab, considerably ruffled by the events of the evening.

On entering his apartment a packet was placed in his hand; and he found himself directed by his chef to leave Paris on the following day with important dispatches. This was vexatious enough, as it terminated all hope of the revenge which he had eagerly anticipated; and he accordingly resolved to devise some other method of diminishing the arrogant satisfaction of his late opponent.

"I have occasionally lost larger sums," he murmured, as he prepared to retire to rest, "but never before did I feel such reluctance to pay a debt of honour. To throw away one's money upon a brute of this description is intolerable. I will make him experience by some means or another the danger of trifling with the feelings of a gentleman.”

Thus resolved, M. de soon forgot his annoyance in sleep; and in the morning his cab was ordered at an unusually early hour. Some twenty minutes subsequently it stopped at the residence of his late antagonist, to whose concierge the tiger of the young diplomatist delivered a huge packet, sealed with three enormous seals, accompanied by a minute note; after which the equipage whirled away, and the successful gambler was informed that un Monsieur en cabriolet had left the articles in question to which no answer was required. The recipient first opened the note, and read as follows:

"MONSIEUR,

"Unexpectedly compelled by diplomatic business to leave Paris within a few hours, I hasten to cancel the obligation incurred towards yourself last evening. I do not send specie, but value, as from your own lips I was enabled to gather the predominant sentiment of your mind. Thus, Monsieur, anxious to meet your exemplary and praiseworthy principle, so untiringly impressed upon me during the few hours in which I was honoured by your society, I have endeavoured to meet what must, I am convinced, under the circumstances, be your dearest wish; and I accordingly enclose to you, in the accompanying packet, the means of practising to the widest extent your very exemplary epistolary system."

The fortunate gamester eagerly opened the enormous parcel; and found therein to his consternation and annoyance - twelve thousand postage stamps, of five sous each!

NOTE ON THE REVIEW OF THE "RAMBLES THROUGH ROME."

WE have received a letter of remonstrance from the Chevalier de Chatelain, couched in such courteous terms to ourselves, that we feel much pleasure in assuring that gentleman that he is quite mistaken in supposing that our notice of his book emanated from "an occasional contributor, who had some object of private malice to gratify."

M. de Chatelain says that "there is a wide difference between criticism directed against the author and that which is levelled at the man." We need hardly add that it was the book and its contents that formed the subject-matter of our review; assuredly not the character of the author as a private individual-apart from what he may have thought proper to relate of himself in his work.

On a reperusal of the critique, M. de Chatelain will see that the paragraph he refers to does not bear the construction he attributes to it, of "throwing odious insinuations against his character, and that of a highly respectable Roman young lady, since dead." We utterly disclaim any such meaning, and sincerely regret that any allusion was made in our review to this portion of the book, now that we find that it has given pain to the author.

M. de Chatelain has equally misunderstood us in imagining that we accused him of "deliberate falsehood," when we complained of the introduction of "romances" in the work, " though the Chevalier says they are from real life." We still adhere to this critical objection. The term "romance," as applied to these episodes, is not ours, but his

own.

We trust that this explanation will satisfy the Chevalier de Chatelain that we were actuated by no other motive in reviewing his "Rambles " than that of legitimate criticism; and that in the exercise of our censorial function, we are not undeserving of the graceful compliment he pays to our national love of "fair play."