THE SPECULATOR'S WIFE. CHAPTER I. MARRIED. WHEN Manfred, in the great dramatic poem of that name, summons the spirits to his presence at midnight, the request that he has to make of them is forgetfulness-the forgetfulness of that which is within him, of which they know, but which he cannot utter. A desire of this kind we believe to be pretty common in human nature, especially that portion of it who are gifted with the power of moral reflection, and who, however excellent may have been their lives, have yet, provided they have been prolonged to the years of maturity, done some things which they wish they had not done, and which they, also, wish they could for ever obliterate from their memories. Among these, we think, we may safely rank the Speculator, who, like the gambler, in a great measure, lives by playing a game of chance; which being in itself deceitful, must beget the practice of deception in those who habitually pursue it, and who are, therefore, laying seeds for an ample crop of reflection at a future day, when they themselves, perhaps, have become, like the condemned star of which Manfred speaks "A wandering hell in the eternal space.” To be like this, who is he that would desire to live? Edward Beaumont lived by speculation; and, like most of his class, had sometimes been poor, and sometimes rich. He might, therefore, be considered as pretty well hardened in his vocation, and not apt to be much moved, either by the frowns of adversity or the smiles of prosperity. Neither was he. But when he had a large venture at stake, he was liable to be affected like other men, although, perhaps, not to the extent of those whose nervous system is more acute, and which, as a matter of course, renders them more subject to be elevated or depressed by the "skyey influences" of the commercial and moral atmospheres in which they live. The physical forces, therefore, of his system were |