damn me if I believe I have genius enough to aspire to the composition of a cabbage-net.

Emily. Oh! my dear father, let me conjure you to believe, that those resources which my duty, my affection, have hitherto supplied, shall be doubled to you in future, when I have so kind a partner in that pleasing task.

Henry. When you are not welcome to me, I must cease to be worthy of my Emily.-If books do not serve for a resource, and ancient history is too remote, we can find heroes in modern times; and you shall fight over your battles as often as you please.

Temp. That is very pleasant, I confess, for there I can come on a little; but then I grow warm with the subject, and Emily, snubs me for swearing; which you know, Mr. Penruddock, every soldier is privileged to do.

Penrud. I did not know that was among their privileges; but this I know, they cannot, in my opinion, have too many! and heartily I wish they had more and better than what you have named.

Enter SYDENHAM.

Syden. I must either have the impudence of the devil, or veneration for your character, Mr. Penruddock, which apologizes for impudence, when I venture to appear in your presence, after what I foolishly said to you in our late conversation.

Penrud. Mr. Sydenham, I cannot allow you to call that language foolish, which springs from a heart that runs over with benevolence: as well you may blaspheme the bounty of the Nile, because it breaks loose from its channel, and overflows its banks.

Syden. Thank you, my dear sir, thank you heartily; I have been as sour as crab-juice with the malice of

mankind, now I am all oil and honey, and shall slip through the rest of my days in harmony and good humour.-Ah! Henry-Tempest - Emily Mrs. Woodville-all smiling!-Why I am like the man in the almanack, turn which way I will, a happy constellation looks me in the face.

Penrud. Now you have joined us, our circle is complete.

Syden. [Advances with PENRUDDOCK.] Ah! no, no, no; while contrition asks admittance to atone for inJuries, humanity can never shut its door, and say, 66 my circle is complete"

Penrud. What do you mean?

Syden. Woodville is in your house.

Penrud. Hah! Woodville! have you brought him hither?

Syden. No; we called at Tempest's, heard of your generous acts, and his poor wounded heart now melts with gratitude: even my flint was softened.

Penrud. Well, well, it shall be so-keep the company together in my absence-such meetings should be private. [Exit.

Mrs. W. Oh! Sydenham, generous friend! I heard the name of Woodville, and I know your intercession points at him. Heaven prosper it! But can it be? I doubt, I doubt this injury is too deep.

Syden. Doubt nothing. I am confident of success —when the ice thaws, the river flows; so is it with the human charities, when melted by benevolence. Henry. Oh! what a soul is thine! whose ardour even impossibilities can't check,

Emily. The attempt is bold; but mark if this is not among the impossibilities that sometimes come to pass.

Henry. Look, look! your angry lover

Emily. Alas! has this poor gentleman no friend to save him from exposing himself?

Syden. The Governor begins to bristle-walk aside, take no notice, and I'll accost him.

Enter SIR DAvid Daw.

Now, my brave knight!

Why glows that angry spot upon your cheek? What do those boots portend; and whither bound? Sir D. D. Mr. Sydenham, I am just now in no humour for jesting; neither does my business lie with you.

Temp. With me then-What would my noble baronet be pleased to say?

Sir D. D. I am not pleased at all, Governor Tempest, and therefore it matters little what I say: I called at your door, and was directed to you hither, so I made tree to step in; and now, to say truth, I don't care how soon I step out, for my chaise is in waiting, and I am equipped, as you see, for my peremptory departure.

Temp. Let us part friends, however; if you can charge me fairly, do so! I'll not flinch.

Sir D. D. No, but you will fly out, and that is

worse.

Temp. Not I: carry no grievances with you into Wales; I'll be calm as water, say what you will.

Sir D. D. Oh! then I can say enough-Did you not consent to my proposing for your daughter?

Temp. Why, I did consent, I don't deny it; and if Emily had not objected to your proposals, I should not have quarrelled with your property; but I am not such a Blue-beard to deliver my daughter, bound hands and feet, into your castle. If you had not the gift of recommending yourself, am I to blame for

that?

Sir D. D. Am I? Miss Emily can witness I took due pains.

Emily. Oh! yes; and let not my obstinacy discourage you; for be assured, that half those pains, bestowed upon a heart less constant to its first attachment, and more regardful of its worldly interests, will command success, whenever you think fit to repeat the experiment.

Temp. There-there-what more is to be said?— you see how the case stands: I had no absolute controul over my daughter's affections, and somebody else had.

Sir D. D. Well, sir, I understand you now; and if you are only Governor abroad, and not at home

Temp. What then, sir?

Sir D. D. Why then, I am your very humble

servant.

[Exit. Temp. Well-your humble servant, if you come to that; and a good journey to you-aye, and a good riddance to boot. Is not it so, my Emily? What does that David think

Enter PENRUDDOCK, leading in WOODVILLE.

Penrud. Mrs. Woodville, your husband and I have concurred in opinion, that the only way of adjusting such differences as subsisted between us, is by consigning them at once to oblivion, trusting that you and Henry also will do the same by those errors, which now are fortunately healed, and can never be repeated.

Wood. Humbled as I am in conscience, and overwhelmed by generosity, I am ill able to find words for what, in circumstances like mine, I ought to say to each here present in particular, and all in general. Wherever I direct my eyes, they are sa

luted with a countenance, which, though entitled to reproach me, seems to hold forth promises of pardon but, perhaps, even from guilt, like mine, some good may be extracted: and my son, when he shall be blest with a wife, lovely and virtuous as his mother, will recollect the follies of his father, and avoid his fate.

Penrud, Here we conclude.-We all have cause of thankfulness, but I the most; for I have escaped the perils of prosperity: the sudden onset staggered me; but temperate recollection, and the warning calls of some here present, taught me to know, that the true use of riches is to share them with the worthy; and the sole remedy for injuries, to forgive them.

THE END.