"And pray, may I ask," said Colonel Desmond, with an arch, incredulous smile, "how happens it that your present theory and former practice differ so widely? You surely never could have suffered in your own person from the effects of satire; no understanding could be so inept, no heart so cold, as to aim at _you_ the shafts of ridicule; to what cause am I indebted for this eloquent tirade?" "I have indeed," replied Adelaide, blushing no less at his encomiums than at the confession she was about to make, "suffered severely from the effects of satire: those 'Best can paint them who shall feel them most.' You may remember, that very early in life I was suffered to be present at those assemblies of literary characters, who used to meet in my happy home at Vienna." Here she sighed, and paused for an instant, then repressing the starting tear, continued, "Incapable of appreciating their merit, or understanding their conversation, I was fully alive to the peculiarities of their manners, so different from the model of refined elegance I had daily before my eyes. Somehow the frank _Ètourderie_ of my remarks amused; and the smiling pardon, that was granted to the folly of a mere child, I mistook for an applause bestowed on wit. My first sallies proceeded from the gaiety of a guileless heart, accustomed to express every idea as it rose to the most indulgent parent and partial friend; but, as I grew older, a _besoin de briller_ seized me, and I was on the point of becoming one of that despicable class, who, while they importune the goodness of Heaven for their daily bread, apply no less earnestly to the weaknesses of their best friends for their daily sarcasm, and rejoice more on finding one foible than ninety-nine good qualities; when my enlightened monitor awakened me to a sense of my danger. And now may I pronounce you _au fait_ of the cause to which you are indebted for my 'eloquent tirade' against satire?" "If you don't convince," said Colonel Desmond, "you at least persuade: but, you know, there is no general rule without exception; so do be ill-natured for once, and let me know what you were thinking of Felix, when I detected those tell-tale smiles." "Well then," said she, "since I must satisfy you, I will at least only be satirical at second-hand, and answer you in the words of Mondon, Adolescent qui s'Èrige en barbon, Jeune Ècolier qui vous parle en Caton, Est en mon sens un animal bernable: Et j'aime mieux l'air fou, que l'air capable; Il est trop fat.[12]" [Footnote 12: ----I despise A beardless censor, that with Cato's frown, Assumes the pedant in a scholar's gown: Mere vacant folly, void of all pretence, Is sure less hateful than affected sense; He is too vain. ]