se in _The Way of the World_, but that they are truer to
average life, and therefore more easily recognisable by the average
spectator. Tattle, for instance, is so gross a fool, that any fool in
the pit could see his folly; Witwoud might deceive all but the elect. No
familiarity--direct or indirect--with a particular mode of life and
speech is necessary to the appreciation of _Love for Love_. Sir Sampson
Legend is your unmistakable heavy father, cross-grained and bullying.
Valentine is no ironical, fine gentleman like Mirabell, but a young rake
from Cambridge, all debts and high spirits. Scandal is a plain railer at
things, especially women; Ben Legend a sea-dog who cannot speak without a
nautical metaphor; Jeremy an idealised comic servant; and Foresight
grotesque farce. Angelica is a shrewd but hearty 'English girl,' and
Miss Prue a veritable country Miss; while Mrs. Frail and Mrs. Foresight
are broadly skittish matrons. There is nothing in the play to strain the
attention or to puzzle the intellect, and it is full of laughter: no
wonder it was a success. It is, intellectually, on an altogether
different plane from _The Way of the World_, on a slightly lower one than
_The Double-Dealer_. But in its own way it is irresistibly funny, and by
reason of its diction it is never for a moment other than distinguished.

I imagine the bodkin scene will always take the palm in it for mere
mirth. Delightful sisters!

I suppose you would not go alone to the World's End?

The World's End! What, do you mean to banter me?

Poor innocent! You don't know that there's a place called the World's
End? I'll swear you can keep your countenance purely; you'd make an
admirable player. . . . But look you here, now--where did you lose
this gold bodkin?--Oh, sister, sister!

My bodkin?

Nay, 'tis yours; look at it.

Well, if you go to that, where did you find this bodkin? Oh, sister,
sister!--sister every way.

Broad, popular comedy, it is admirable; but it is not especially
Congrevean. Tattle's love-lesson to Miss Prue and his boasting of his
duchesses are in the same broad vein. Valentine's mad scene is more
remarkable, in that Congreve gives rein to his fancy, and that his
diction is at its very best. 'Hark'ee, I have a secret to tell you.
Endymion and the Moon shall meet us upon Mount Latmos, and will be
married in the dead of night. But say not a word. Hymen shall put his
torch into a