I know of no one who was absent on my ac count." O, yes you do." "No, Florence." "Mr. Gardiner was not there ;" and as Florence said this, she looked at Anna with an arch smile. The latter could not prevent a soft blush from stealing over her face, and her eyes were again cast upon the floor. Lifting them, however, after a thoughtful pause, she said to her friend, in a serious voice, all I blame you for is, that you did n't go to Mrs. Leslie's with him, through thick and thin." "And neglect a sick mother?" It was n't any serious matter, that you know. Only a sick headache. You could have gone well enough." "Not with a clear conscience, Florence; and without that, I could not have been happy any where. External circumstances are nothing in the scale of happiness, if all be not right within. I can say from my heart, that I en"Florence, are you sure that Mr. Gardiner joyed myself far more at home than I could was not there?" "He came, it is true; but only staid a little while. It was almost as good as if he had n't been there at all." "But you ought not to say that my absence kept him away." possibly have done at Mrs. Leslie's, no matter who was or was not there." "You do n't deny, then, that you like young Gardiner ?" "I said nothing in regard to him. Why should I deny or affirm on the subject? I "No. Only that your absence caused him to do n't know any thing about him. I have only go away." This was laughingly said. seen him a few times in company; and I would be a weak one, indeed, either to think or wish myself beloved by a man who is almost a total stranger." "You have no right to draw such an inference, Florence. I would much rather it should not be done. I am yet too young to have my name associated with that of any young man." "What harm can it do, Anna? I am sure you need n't be ashamed to have your name mentioned with that of Herbert Gardiner. I certainly should not. I only wish he would take a fancy to me. Mother would have to have something worse than a sick headache to cause me to decline going to a party with him. Such a prize do n't go a begging every day." Why do you call him a prize?" Why?" And Florence looked really surprised at the question. Why? Is n't he rich? Is n't he one of the most elegant and agreeable young men you have ever seen? I do n't think you can point out his equal. Try, now, and see if you can ?" "As to that, my acquaintance with young men is not very extensive. I am not prepared to make any comparisons. As I before said, I am yet too young to suffer my mind to become interested in these matters." "How old are, you, pray? Perhaps I have mistaken your age; are you fifteen, yet?" This was said laughingly. "I believe I am about eighteen." "It is n't possible! And too young to make comparisons between young men, or have a lover. Why, I'm not quite your age, and I have had two or three lovers. It 's delightful!" Anna shook her head. "I know you like young Gardiner," continued the friend. You can't help it. And "He is no stranger. Does n't every one in the city know his family and standing?" "But what do you or I know about him? Of his feelings, character, or principles ?" "You are a strange girl to talk, Anna." 66 I think not. Is n't it of importance to know something of the governing principles of the man whose attentions we receive ?-who is admitted, as you intimate, in the character of a lover?" "Certainly. But, then, it is easy enough for any one to see, at a glance, what a young man is. I can do so. There is young Hartley, who tries to be so gracious with me It is no hard matter to see what he is." "Narrow minded, as I have said. Penurious, { I merely went to see Fanny Ellsler with him, if you please." and was much obliged to him for taking me. "As to the latter, I have no means of His character, good or bad, can have no effect judging. How do you know it?" Florence thought a moment, and then said"I will tell you. Fanny Ellsler, you remember, was here three or four weeks ago. A few of us girls were dying to see her, and we hatched up a plot among ourselves, that we would make some of our gentlemen acquaintances take us to the theatre." upon me." "Are you sure?" "Yes; very sure. What effect could it have?" "Apart from the friendly feelings you may have entertained for a bad man, which are always more or less injurious to an innocent minded woman, you have placed yourself in a Why Florence!" ejaculated Anna, in grave position which may cause you to be lightly astonishment. spoken about by those who do not know you. To be sure we did! You need n't look moon struck about it. Where is the harm, I{ wonder? Well! I talked at Hartley until I { was downright ashamed of myself, but the mean fellow would n't take. Sarah Miller had no trouble at all with Mr. Granger. She had only to turn the conversation upon Ellsler, and then express a strong desire to see her, to be invited at once. Harriet Jones did the same with I have heard my mother say as much, and young Erskin, and all was settled to her heart's in her judgment I have great confidence. Becontent. But I tried my best, and Hartleysides, it is a truth that must be apparent on the would n't understand me." "What did he say ?" asked Anna, curious to learn how the young man had received such a strange application-for such it really was. "Oh!" tossing her head, he affected to disapprove the attendance of young ladies at the theatre at least while these public dancers were exhibiting themselves." 66 My father thinks very much as he does." "As to that, so does mine. But I do n't agree with him in all his opinions. He's like a great many other old people; old fashioned in his notions, and full of prejudice against modern improvements." "But, would you have gone to see Fanny Ellsler dance against your father's wishes ?" "Would I? Certainly I would, and did.” "Florence!" "Certainly. If I were to do only as he thought and said, I would have to give up all pleasure. Hartley would n't take me, and so I tried Mr. Archer, who did n't need a second hint." "Not William Archer?" "Yes." "Did you really go to the theatre with William Archer ?" least reflection.' theatre ! Goodness! Mine would as soon take me to my grave." "I saw that vice and crime were too often made attractive, instead of being condemned. "Are they not aware of the fact that you Let me give an instance. On one occasion my went to see Fanny Ellsler?" father took me to see the opera of Fra Diavalo." "Were you not delighted!" "They? No indeed! And I would n't have them find it out for the world. It would almost kill them. They would think I was ruined completely." "Such being the case, Florence, I cannot but say, that I think you have done a double { wrong-first, in deceiving your excellent father and mother, and next in going to the theatre with a man whom every pure minded woman should shun with horror." "I was very much pleased. The music of the piece is exquisite. Some of the choruses have haunted me ever since." "And were you not struck with the bold bearing, the nobility, if I may so speak, of Fra Diavalo himself?" "I must confess that my sympathies were too much with him, and that, when he was circumvented and killed at last, I was disappointed. On returning home, my father said— How were you pleased, Anna ?' "Oh, I was delighted,' I replied. "Do you think that representation, aided "In that we may differ in opinion. But, there is one thing that I do n't exactly understand," replied Florence Armitage; " and that is, how your father and mother could take you to the theatre when they disapprove of theatrical { by such noble music, calculated to inspire any representations." They do heart with a love of virtue?' This was putting a new face upon the mat- "No-do n't misunderstand them. not disapprove of scenic representations, in the {ter. abstract, but of theatres as now conducted. If me. the stage, I have heard my father say, were only made an accessory to virtue, it would be all-you pleased to hear it again? powerful for good, because principles are seen and felt more clearly and distinctly when in ultimates, that is, when brought out into their lowest and fullest plane of activity; or, in other words, personified." "The Brigand's song was encored, were "But still I do not understand how your father could take you to the theatre as it is, when he disapproves of it." "I can explain that. hear the stage alluded He knew that I must "Yes,' I replied. "Did your mind revolt at the sentiments?' "It was the music, I suppose, that made even cruel words, and a boast of evil deeds, pleasant.' "Yes, that was it, aided by the external attractions of beautiful scenery, and a gay company apparently filled with delight at the imagination must be excited by glowing repre-brigand's rehearsal of his valiant achievements.' "Do you think it good to feel such pleasure at witnessing the representation of evil?' asked my father. "I could not but answer, no.' "Suppose,' he continued, that the spirited air just alluded to, had been sung to true and elevating sentiments-to a national song, for instance, inspiring the heart with a love of country-would not every one who heard it, and in whose memory it fixed itself, as a familiar friend, feel a deeper love of his country than he had ever known before? Extend it "And did he succeed? Could you see the farther. You, doubtless, felt an emotion of evil he was so anxious to point out." pain when the brigand lost his life. That is; you regretted to see a robber and murderer receive the just reward of his deeds, for all the charms of music, scenery, and inspiring circumstances, had led your mind away into an overmastering sympathy with a bold brigand. How much better, had the hero of the opera been a true nobleman of nature; one who sought the good of his fellows; one who could perform deeds of daring-could be bold and brave and noble in the cause of virtue. No harm, but great good would result from such representations. The stage would be the handmaid of morality and religion, if pledged to virtue, as it now, alas! seems pledged to vice. You understand, my child, I hope, why I think it is not good for young persons to visit the theatre, as it now is?" " "You can now understand, I am sure, what I mean by the balancing good yet to be found on the stage." Yes, Anna, I do," Florence said, after a silence of nearly a minute. She spoke in a voice that was slightly touched with sadness. "And from my heart, I wish that my parents had laid aside a portion of their prejudice, and taken me to the theatre as yours did you, and then as carefully lifted my mind up and enabled me to see the good and evil so intimately blended, as they doubtless are. You have been often, you say?" "Yes. That is a half a dozen times, per "I could not but approve all my father had said. His remarks opened up to my mind a new view. He had given me a standard by which to estimate the stage, and I could now determine its quality for myself. And I do determine it, and pronounce its tendency to be down-haps?" ward, and its effects injurious to young minds." "Really you meet the whole matter in the broadest manner. Then, you think, there is no good whatever in the stage as it now is ?" "If there were no good at all-if all were evil in scenic representations as they are now conducted my father says, and it seems reasonable, they would no longer be permitted to exist in the order of Providence. There cannot be such a thing, he says, as mere gratuitous evil; that is, evil which is not permitted, in order to elevate some from lower degrees of depravity, or to prevent them sinking into deeper moral obscurity. In all the representations of real life that we see upon the stage, we find something that is good; something that impresses the mind with the beauty of truth and virtue. something that makes us think of God as a divine guide and protector. Take, for instance, in the opera just alluded to, that portion of the chamber scene in which Zerlina murmurs a prayer in her sleep, and the hand of the assassin, already raised to strike her innocent breast, is stayed, and the wretch shrinks away in trembling consciousness that He to whom that prayer was sweetly breathed, even in sleep, was present. That was good. It was a boldly redeeming point, and could not fail to make a due impression on every mind. Fra Diavalo?" "O yes." "You remember the scene?" "Yes. Have you seen It is more distinctly impressed upon my mind than any other." "How were you affected by it?" "Not pleasantly." "Did you see Ellsler?" "I think you would have been delighted with her dancing. It was truly, the poetry of motion." "I did not wish to see her." Why?" "I have witnessed stage dancing." "Celeste." But no "Ah! I wanted to see her badly. one invited me to go. How did you like her?" "There was a charming grace and ease in all her motions; and some of her pantomimic performances were admirable. But, my cheek burned the whole time. Could a modest woman expose her person as she did? No.-Nor could a truly modest woman look upon such an exposure without a feeling of deep shame and humiliation." "But crowds of the most respectable women went to see her night after night. She could not have exposed her person more than Fanny Ellsler did, and yet I saw present Mrs. L, and Miss T, and Mrs. S— and dozens of virtuous women, and no cheek was covered with blushes of shame. Indeed, every body was delighted with the creature's airy and sylphlike motions. No one thought of the exposure you allude to?" "Did n't you think of it?" "And so did others. Would you be willing to expose yourself as she did, in a drawing room filled with gentlemen and ladies." "No." Why?" "I shouldn't be willing to exhibit myself under any circumstances." "Suppose your friend Mary Gaston, were to dress herself in short clothes, and flourish about in a company of men and women after the UST as the sun was setting, one cold, November afternoon, I drove up, during a short and pleasant sojourn in the Old Dominion, to the house of my foxhunting friend, Wilson. I had been, for the last ten miles of my ride, facing a keen north-wester, and, at the aspect of the kind old man's hospitable mansion, experienced something of what one might suppose to be the feelings of a tempest-driven mariner as a smooth and comfortable harbor heaves up before him. A warmly clad, round-faced, happy looking negro boy, whose white teeth, in strong contrast with his ebony skin, shone like pearls, opened the gate for me. When I passed through, the ponderous machine fell back, against its heavy posts, with a crash that brought forth from their kennels about a dozen wretched looking hounds, which set up a horrible barking and yelping about my tired horse, very much, apparently, to his dissatisfaction. In an instant the door of the house was open, and a stout, jolly, rubicund visaged old man, made his appearance, and the voice of a Stentor was added to the din. to bite. Here, Cæsar! take this horse; give him a good rubbing down, d' ye hear, and plenty of corn, you young rascal! How are you, Roland, my boy?" he continued, seizing me by the hand as soon as he came within reach, with a grasp that made my fingers tingle again. "Come, get down-you 're the man of all others I wanted to see just at this particular momentTom, bring in some more wood and make that fire burn, boy, as if old Nick were at your back." Before I could utter half a dozen sentences, I found myself in a capacious arm chair, before a blazing hickory fire, divested of hat, cloak and boots, with my half-frozen feet encased in a pair of comfortable cloth slippers. "Roland, my lad, I have just been thinking of you; just wishing you would make your appearance and here you are. Crampton came down, to-day, with his fine pack of dogs, and tomorrow, all things propitious, we are going to have a royal chase. We hunted a red fox last week for two days in succession, but he gave us the slip. I know the rascal's present location, though, and if we don't have his brush, before to-morrow night, my name 's not Wilson. You have never been on a fox-hunt you say?" "Never." "Well, then, we'll show you a new phase in life. Cæsar, how does Charley look tonight; think he'll stand a hard ride to-morrow?" "Hah! will you, Blucher! off with you, Minos! Never mind the brutes, Roland; they "Ah! dat he will, master-Charley's true would n't bark in this manner, if they intended { blue, sar." |