you require repose and quiet. Mr. Ice- and spirit-the most brilliant beauty in the brook, what do you think? I'm persuad-room. Egad, Featherley, you'll have to ing Felix to go to bed: he's really not fit take care of your wife-nobody suspected for the excitement of a ball. Did you you possessed such a treasure. ever see any one look so dreadfully haggard-so completely worn out, as he does? ICE. Never. Take my advice, and go to bed directly-Mrs. Featherley will be under my protection. FEATH. But, Eugenia, you are not going -I want to speak with you. FEATH. Well, well, d-n it-let me go. MAJOR. I repeat, there's no occasion to be in a hurry-nobody wants you-nobody thinks of you there. I wish tell me what have you done about having me proposed at the Megatherium Club? FEATH. Oh, it's all right-I managed MRS. F. You must excuse me, my dear, that business for you with Sir Colin I must return to my guests. Besides, you Fotheringay-there's his letter. (Takes are so tired and sleepy, you'll be better MRS. DE BOOTS' letter, by mistake, from left to yourself. (Music of waltz in ball-his pocket, and gives it to MAJOR.) I hope room.) it will satisfy you. ICE. Ah, there's the deux temps commenced! (To MRS. FEATHERLEY.) You're engaged to me. (Gives his arm to MRS. FEATHERLEY.) Now do go to bed, Featherley; make your mind perfectly easy-I will waltz with your wife all to-night-so go now, my dear fellow, and let me recommend a basin of gruel, with a glass of sherry in it, before you go to sleep. Exeunt ICEBROOK and MRS. FEATHERLEY into ball-room. Music ceases-Enter TRAP. TRAP. Bootjack and slippers, sir. FEATH. Confound your bootjack slippers! Exit. MAJOR. I knew Featherley would do the business for me! (Opens the letter.) What does Sir Colin say? (Reads.) "My dear Felix-pardon the old familiar style-" A very extraordinary style for a baronet! "Your plan has been completely successful"-Â little management was necessary, I suppose. "Poor, unsuspecting De Boots actually requested me to receive the child—your child—” Hey? what does it mean? Um, um 66 ! adored Adolphe mother's bosom-bad_pen.' Ha! ah! "Aurelia de Boots. Oh, my wife-it's her writing. My wife-my and friend-my child-his child-her childour child! Oh, good heavens! I see duped by that superior woman-betrayed through the whole stratagem. I've been by that false friend. But the villain shall perish by this outraged hand-he shall fight me he shall-I feel a sudden valor inflame me-my wounded honor calls for vengeance, and vengeance it shall have. My pistols-ha! (Takes them and throws them at TRAP, who exits.) Eugenia's sudden metamorphosis astonishes me! What does it mean? Her splendid dress her altered manner? She, that was so staid-so reserved-so domestic-to blaze out suddenly a woman of ton and fashion-and to recommend me to go to bed, while she's waltzing with that fellow, Icebrook. No, I'll not stand that. I'll not be treated like a school-boy in my own house. Exit precipitately. Enter MRS. FEATHERLEY from ball-room, followed immediately after by ICEBROOK. MRS. F. What shall I do? Mr. IceMAJOR DE BOOTS, who has come from ball-scarcely suffer him to look a woman in the brook, whose modesty I thought would room, stops FEATHERLEY as he is going face, has been suddenly transformed to hastily towards door. the most impudent of men. Have I been playing a hazardous game, and unconsciously drawn upon myself this persecution? There is no escaping from him. MAJOR. Ah, Featherley! I feared we should not have seen you to-night. Where are you going? FEATH. Going to dress for my wife's ball-don't detain me. MAJOR. Oh, you need be in no hurry. Mrs. Featherley makes such a delightful hostess that we can very well do without you. There she is, all smiles and graces, ICE. Why will you fly me, loveliest of women? Why repel me by those disdainful glances, when my hopes of life and happiness hang upon your smile? MRS. F. Mr. Icebrook, I cannot listen to you-leave me, sir, this moment. EVERYBODY'S FRIEND. ICE. I can't I must unfold my heart to you. MRS. F. What have you seen in my conduct, sir, that warrants your addressing such language to me? ICE. Nothing;-you are propriety personified. But I have a mission to perform. MRS. F. A mission to insult me, sir? ICE. Not in the remotest degree. All I ask of you, is to say you love me to look upon me with tender regard. He drops on his knees before her at the moment that FEATHERLEY, in evening costume, enters, without being perceived -he stands overwhelmed with astonishment. the -think of the years Only say you love methat my passion has been pent up in this burning bosom-cast a pitying eye on adorers! most devoted of your MRS. (FEATHERLEY rushes forward· FEATHERLEY Screams, and attempts to retreat, but is withheld by ICEBROOK.) MRS. SWANDOWN appears at entrance of ball-room. dearest! Say you MRS. F. (snatching away her hand, ICE. Fool! Ha, ha, ha, ha! I expected it. Fool! FEATH. Villain, if you prefer it! MRS. S. (half apart to ICEBROOK). MAJOR. If you want a villain, he stands there. (Pointing to FEATHERLEY.) There -the ruthless destroyer of my peace! Enter MRS. DE BOOTS from ball-room. The trampler on the tenderest corn of my heart-the domestic vampire, who has betrayed the unsuspecting De Boots. (MRS. DE BOOTS Screams and faints in the arms of ICEBROOK.) Ha, ah! there, feast your eyes upon the wreck you have made-conand prepare to give template your victim, deadly satisfaction to an infuriated husband. (Tapping his pistol-case.) FEATH. My dear Major, don't excite yourself-keep quiet! MAJOR. No, sir, I won't my days of quietness are over-the lion has taken the place of the lamb in my bosom, and demands death or satisfaction-satisfaction or death! MRS. F. Good heavens! what does it mean? Of what crime are you accused? FEATH. A very serious one, madamethat of trying to serve my friends. MAJOR. And here's the proof how you serve them-this letter, written to you by that superior victim who lies there insen ICE. (rising). Why the devil did you interfere, when I told you it was no busi-sibleness of yours? SO. MRS. S. It was highly imprudent to do FEATH. No business of mine-no business of mine? although I find you on your knees making love to my wife! ICE. I don't deny it-I did give utterance to my passion in the language of the heart-I couldn't help it-and if you had not popped in so awkwardly MRS. S. You might have achieved a victory? ICE. That is what I was modestly about to suggest. MRS. F. Julia! Felix! I could cry with vexation to be made the jest and scorn of a fool! ICE. A lovely load of grief. FEATH. (aside). What a confounded blunder I have committed-I've given him the wrong letter. MAJOR (offering MRS. FEATHERLEY the letter to read). Read it, Mrs. Featherley! MRS. DE B. (suddenly starting up and snatching the letter). That secret is mine it must not be profaned by common eyes-'tis I who must explain it let me, however, add, that Mr. Featherley's conduct has been dictated by the purest friendship. FEATH. Bravo! There's gratitude still in the world. MRS. S. (apart). And retaliation-as you will find! MRS. S. And while Mrs. de Boots is confiding her delicate mystery to the Major, let me confess that it was I who made Mr. Icebrook pay such violent court to Mrs. Featherley. MRS. F. You, Julia? net. MRS. F. The sonnet which in the days of our first love you gave to me. ICE. The sonnet which you said would do my business with the widow. MRS. S. The sonnet which I now return to the inflammable writer. (Offers ICE. But only as Mrs. Swandown's rep-him the paper.) resentative. MRS. S. I enjoined him, as he expected my favor, to devote himself to you, and play the lover to you all through this evening. ICE. And for a modest man, I flatter myself I acquitted myself very satisfactorily. MRS. F. Pray, never let me hear you disparage your merits by calling yourself a modest man again. ICE. Well! I believe modesty was only the shell to my native assurance; and now I've broken it, I dare say in time I may come to be as impudent a fellow as our friend Featherley. FEATH. Oh! very well-very clearly explained; but what was the object of this little mystification? for I suppose there was an object? MRS. S. Undoubtedly:-to punish a ertain Mr. David Bangle for an impertient trick he played upon me-and to teach Mr. Felix Featherley that the husband who carries his merchandize abroad should take care that his market be not forestalled at home. FEATH. I candidly confess the Bangle imposture, but it was practised in the sacred cause of friendship. MRS. F. Friendship! Did I not hear you protest your love for Mrs. Swandown? Did I not see you kneeling at her feet? FEATH. Very likely-but for whom was I in that humble posture? My friend! I was merely holding a brief for Icebrook, who wanted courage to speak for himself -I did all I possibly could for you, Frank. ICE. So it seems, by making love for yourself! FEATH, Stay! have you read it? MRS. S. At a distance-I dare not trust my eyes too near such a glowing composition. FEATH. And you imagine I had incendiary designs upon your heart? MRS. S. That is an inevitable conclusion. FEATH. Now have the goodness to turn over the leaf and read what you find on the other side. MRS. S. (turns over the leaf on which the sonnet is written, and reads on the back): "Dearest lady, in your presence love is dumb-read the confession of my heart with pity, and believe in the eternity of a passion which can never decay-FRANK ICEBROOK." ICE. Did I really write that? Ha, ha! I like my prose much better than my poetry. MRS. S. To be candid with you, so do I; and if you are still in the mind to acknowledge this writing as your hand and deed, why, I'll not be cruel--there's my hand, and whenever you please, you may seal the bond. ICE. Upon the fairest skin that ever love engrossed! (Kisses her hand.) 'Pon my life, I'm very much obliged to you, my dear Featherley; you really are a friend! MRS. S. The kindest and best of friends! MRS. F. Felix-dearest Felix, your heart then has never wandered from me? FEATH. Never for a moment! The fault that has too often made me a truant from your side, was the desire to serve everybody who needed my help, while I neglected my home. But the error shall be corrected, Eugenia-henceforward I'll leave my friends to Providence, and devote myself to my wife! (Embraces her-MR. and MRS. DE BOOTS come forward.) MRS. F. Enough, dear Felix-I'm satisfied. MAJOR. And so am I-perfectly satisfied. Featherley, your hand-I ask your pardon for my insane suspicions. (Apart to FEATHERLEY.) That superior woman has disclosed her delicate secret to me. Ah! you are a friend! MRS. DE B. (apart, to FEATHERLEY). I've told all to De Boots, and he has consented to adopt my darling Adolphe. 'Tis to you I owe this happiness, dear Felix -pardon inadvertence, Mr. Featherleyyou whom I shall ever call my friend. FEATH. Egad! it seems they're determind to stick to their friend. MRS. S. But friends are only prized A common friend is like the common air MRS. DE B. But if for life Turn to a wife ICE. Or widow, who may be a wife ere long. MAJOR. Allow me to observe you all are wrong: Choose for a friend a party without fear Of man or woman. MRS. DE B. Major! FEATH. (to AUDIENCE). "To err is hu- I think I've somewhere heard or read that line; But still a good thing can't be said too often, There, sweet, for thee my passion grew, If but one critic's heart it helps to soften.tor, law professor at the U Our fate is in your hands, if you commend, THE END. A Richmond paper says that "the moon has been rising for some nights with a face as red as a toper's.' No imputation ought to be cast upon Cynthia's sobriety. She fills her horn only once a month. G. D. PRENTICE. -niversity of Gottingen, Sun, moon, and thou, vain world, adieu ! That kings and priests are plotting in ; Here, doomed to starve on water gru-el, never shall I see the U -niversity of Gottingen, During the last stanza Rogers dashes his head repeatedly against the walls of his prison, and finally so hard as to produce a visible contusion; he then throws himself on the floor in agony. The curtain drops; the music still continuing to play till it is wholly fallen. VER-VERT. [JEAN BAPTISTE LOUIS GRESSET was born in Paris, 1709; died 1777. He was educated for the priesthood.] It is the fate of some writers to be remembered by a single piece, that of most not to be remembered at all. So that Gresset, whose literary baggage consists of tragedies, comedies, and verses of all kinds, may be considered fortunate, inasmuch as the world yet reads one of his poems, his first and best. It is a whimsical, absurd, extravagant, mirthful little poem, all about nuns and their ways, full of the innocent babble, the extravagant trifling, of the sisters, shut up with nothing to think about but the little gossip, all about nothing, of the convent. This wonderful production was the work of a serious and sober young professeur entirely given up to his work of teaching, never seen in society, of studious and silent life, and selected for the scholastic profession by the Jesuits his masters, because he was so quiet, so good, so doux. And yet, at the age of twenty-five, when the first hot youth had been passed without a sin, and all seemed to promise a sober manhood devoted to Latin grammar, this young man, forsaking the traditions of his youth, must needs write and print Ver-Vert.' Worse than that, three editions followed each other in rapid succession, and all France began to talk of the young professeur who knew the ways of the nuns so well, and could rhyme about them so glibly. The Jesuits, alarmed at the gayety of the verse, and unable to see anything to laugh at in nuns, sent the offender for a term to La Flèche. After a brief exile, he returned to Paris, where he brought out his "Chartreuse, a long account of a garret in a college, with rambling remarks upon everything, remarks that tumble headlong from the poet's brain, not original, not striking, and certainly not calculated to do any harm to even a child. But the order were scandalized, and took up the matter seriously. It is truly difficult to fathom the delicacy of the ecclesiastical mind. For when the lady superior of the Visitation nuns found the following lines in "Ver-Vert " Désir de fille est un feu qui dévore, Désir de nonne est cent fois pis encoreshe made a grand state affair of it, and wrote to her brother, a man in high place. He complained to the Jesuit superiors, and Cardinal Fleury wrote to the lieutenant of police on the subject: Here is a letter from the Père de Linyères, on the subject of the young man whose three the parrot is extremely pretty, and much little works you have sent me. That about superior to the other two; but it is libertine in tone, and will certainly give trouble to the Jesuits if they do not take care. All the young fellow's talent seems turned to the side of license, and such geniuses never get corrected. The best plan would be to expel him from the society. Poor Gresset!-all his talents devoted to licentious writing! And he so religious, and "Ver-Vert so innocent. Gresset has no more history. Henceforth he is a cagot, an abject slave to the priests, a grovelling observer of outward rites and ceremonies, trembling lest a Pater should be omitted, careful to obey in the smallest particulars. Let us read his "Ver-Vert. At Nevers once, not long ago, So The pet of certain sisters there, As to deserve a better fate, Transplanted from some Indian stream, And free from evil thought or word: Needs not to tell what love he won, Ver-Vert the bird was first with some. For him 'twas free to do or say |