their retreating footsteps, the echo of their merry laugh, has died away, and Arthur Bernard emerges from his retreat, in the enclosure of the window.

"I declare, Arthur, it is positively too bad," exclaimed Ella, his sister, a gay and pretty young girl; "you are certainly the most agreeable company in the world. Not a syllable to say beyond 'yes,' or 'no,' 'good morning,' or 'good evening.' I am really ashamed of you. You are a woman-hater, I really believe. I am sure the girls all set you down as such."

"I am much obliged for their good opinion, and shall endeavor to deserve it," was the smiling reply. "But, can you imagine what I have been thinking about, while you and your merry companions have been talking all sorts of nonsense?"

"No, indeed. I should like to hear your wise meditations, most grave and potent seigneur. Doubtless, they will prove very edifying, as the theme, of course, was woman's foibles."

"I have been thinking rather of what woman might be, than of what she is. What an exalted part she might perform in the regeneration of the world, did she but fulfil her mission. An archangel might almost envy her opportunities of blessing and benefiting others; and yet, with so many spheres of usefulness open to her, with influence so potent for good or evil, the majority of your sex do nothing, or, worse than nothing, injure others by their example. I am not a woman-hater, Ella; but I must deplore that so many are unmindful utterly of their high calling, and careless of everything but how to spend the present hour the most agreeably, instead of being found actively sustaining, as far as in their power, every good word and work; and ever with a smile and a word of encouragement to the weary toilers in the path of duty. That there are such women, I have not the least doubt; but I have never met with one yet. When I do so, and remain insensible to her charms, you may then call me a woman-hater,"—and a smile concluded the sentence.

A merry, mocking laugh from his, sister rang through the room.

"I thought as much. We, poor women, are not good enough for your most serene highness; nothing short of one endowed with angelic qualities will suit you. I must really try if, in my long list of acquaintances, I cannot find one to come up to your standard; though I am afraid it would be rather a difficult task. And now, in reply to that grave lecture of yours, (what a pity the girls were not here to be edified,) for my part, I always imagined that woman's mission was to be as charming as possible, and I am quite content with being that,"—and Ella looked up into her brother's face, with an irresistible smile.

"But may you not be charming and useful both?"

"Well, I don't know about that; I should like to know what you would have us do."

"Do! what might you not do, if you were disposed? What an incalculable amount of good, and that in the most unobtrusive manner. Society takes its tone from you, and waits to be fashioned by your hand. But, I verily believe, running the risk of speaking very ungallantly, that there is not one in thirty, fifty, or perhaps a hundred of your sex, who have the slightest idea of exerting their talents for the benefit of others. You laugh and talk, and enjoy yourselves, careless of the impression your example may produce, and conform to the usages of society, without one inquiry, as to whether in those usages may not, sometimes, lurk frightful dangers, if not to yourselves, to others who follow admiringly in your steps."

"Frightful dangers! Really, brother, you are growing enigmatical. I should like to have that sentence made a little plainer, for I certainly do not understand you."

"Perhaps an incident that occurred not long ago, which I will relate to you, may explain more clearly my meaning. I can vouch for its correctness, for it came under my own observation. You have frequently heard me speak of Henry Leslie, my room-mate at college, one of the noblest and most gifted of young men, but who unfortunately had contracted a taste for intoxicating liquors. Unfortunately for himself, his agreeable manners and fine qualities rendered him a great favorite with the ladies, and no party seemed complete without him; and thus constantly exposed to the seducing influence of the wine-cup, the habit of imbibing largely grew so strong, that he scarcely had any restraining power left. I remonstrated with him, and, as I trusted, with some success, for he solemnly promised to abstain totally from the intoxicating beverage,—but the very next day we found, on returning home from a walk, an invitation to an evening party lying on our table. It was from the mother of the young lady to whom report alleged he was deeply attached, and whatever influence I might have possessed in dissuading him from attending any other social gathering, I found I was powerless in this case. But he again renewed his determination to abstain from intoxicating stimulants.

"'I know what you fear, Arthur, but I have made the resolution to "touch not, taste not, handle not," as the teetotallers say, and I am determined not to break it.'

"I made no answer, but prepared to accompany him, with a heavy heart; for I felt certain, in my own mind, of the result, at least to some extent, of that evening's visit. I need not enter into particulars; suffice it to say, that Henry Leslie bravely withstood all solicitations, from our sex, to partake of the destroying beverage, and I was beginning to hope that my fears would prove unfounded, when the daughter of our hostess, the young lady to whom I before alluded, approached him with a glass of sparkling wine in her hand. She was beautiful,—I cannot but acknowledge that,—and I shall never forget her appearance as she stood there, a fascinating smile lighting up her animated countenance, and, in her sweetest tones, begged him to take a glass of wine with her. I thought of Satan, disguised as an angel of light, and trembled for the result, as I stood anxiously listening for his answer. It came in the negative, but the hesitating, half-apologetic tone was very different from the firm and decided one, in which he had resisted all other solicitations. But she was not yet satisfied. Womanly vanity must triumph, no matter how dearly the victory may be purchased.

"'You surely will not be so ungallant as to refuse a lady so small a favor,'—and her eyes added, as plainly as words,—'but much less can you refuse me.'

"'You see how society is degenerating, Mr. Bernard,' she said, turning to me, 'there was a time when a lady's request was deemed sacred, now we poor women have little or no influence over your sex.'

"'I devoutly wish you had less, Madam,' was my uncourteous reply; but she scarcely heard me, for Henry, taking the proffered glass, and in a low tone, murmuring, 'For your sake alone,' quaffed its contents. A flush of gratified vanity passed over the lady's countenance, for she had laid a challenge with some of her friends, who had observed his previous abstinence, that she would make him drink a glass of wine with her, before the evening was over. That night week I sat, a lonely watcher, by the corpse of Henry Leslie. He had died in the horrors of delirium tremens, and his last cry had been for brandy.

"Oh, it stings me almost to madness," exclaimed Arthur, rising and pacing the apartment with hurried steps, "when I reflect that that woman, knowing well his fatal propensity,—knowing, too, how powerful was her influence over him, for, poor fellow, I believe he would have laid down his life for her sake, was the immediate instrument of leading to destruction one who might,—had she encouraged him in his resolution to abstain, instead of luring him to depart from it,—have been an honored ornament to society, not filling, as he does to-day, a drunkard's grave, 'unhonored and unsung.'"

There was silence for a few moments in the apartment, for even the volatile Ella seemed affected at the narration. At length she spoke in a subdued tone.

"That is certainly a melancholy story,