...

...

But she had glided off unperceived, as the cause was pleading, and had made ten or a dozen paces down the street by the time I had made the determination; so I set off after her with a long stride, to make her the proposal with the best address I was master of; but observing she walk'd with her cheek half resting upon the palm of her hand, with the slow, shortmeasur'd step of thoughtfulness, and with her eyes, as she went step by step, fixed upon the ground, it struck me she was trying the same cause herself.-God help her! said I, she has some mother-in-law, or tartufish aunt, or nonsensical old woman, to consult upon the occasion, as well as myself: so, not caring to interrupt the process, and deeming it more gallant to take her at discretion than surprise, I faced about, and took a short turn or two before the door of the remise, whilst she walk'd musing on one side.

IN THE STREET.

CALAIS.

HAVING, on the first sight of the lady, settled the affair in my fancy, that she was of the better order of beings;-and then laid it down as a second axiom, as indisputable as the first, that she was a widow, and wore a character of distress, I went no further; I got ground enough for the situation which pleased me;— and had she remained close beside my elbow till midnight, I should have held true to my system, and considered her only under that general idea.

She had scarce got twenty paces distant from me, ere something within me called out for a more particular inquiry. It brought on the idea of a further separation:-I might possibly never see her more:-the heart is for saving what it can; and I wanted the traces through which my wishes might find their way to her, in case I should never rejoin her myself. In a word, I wished to know her name,-her family, -her condition; and, as I knew the place to which she was going, I wanted to know whence she came. But there was no coming at all this intelligence: a hundred little delicacies stood in the way. I formed a score different plans.-There was no such thing as a man's asking her directly; the thing was impossible.

A little French debonnaire captain, who came dancing down the street, showed me it was the easiest thing in the world;-for popping in betwixt us, just as the lady was returning back to the door of the remise, he introduced himself to my acquaintance, and, before he had well got announced, begg'd I would do him the honour to present him to the lady.-I had not been presented myself;-so, turning about to her, he

...

...

He had had the honour, he said, to be at the bombardment of it last war;-that it was finely situated, pour cela,-and full of noblesse when the Imperialists were driven out by the French (the lady made a slight curtsey); -so, giving her an account of the affair, and of the share he had had in it, he begged the honour to know her name,-so made his bow.

-Et Madame a son mari? said he, looking back when he had made two steps,-and, without staying for an answer, danced down the street.

Had I served seven years' apprenticeship to good-breeding, I could not have done as much.

THE REMISE.

CALAIS.

As the little French captain left us, Mons. Dessein came up with the key of the remise in his hand, and forthwith let us into his magazine of chaises.

The first object which caught my eye, as Mons. Dessein opened the door of the remise, was another old tatter'd desobligeant; and notwithstanding it was the exact picture of that which had hit my fancy so much in the churchyard but an hour before, the very sight of it stirred up a disagreeable sensation within me now; and I thought it was a churlish beast into whose heart the idea could first enter to construct such a machine; nor had I much more charity for the man who could think of using it.

I observed the lady was as little taken with it as myself; so Mons. Dessein led us on to a couple of chaises which stood abreast, telling us, as he recommended them, that they had been purchased by my Lord A. and B. to go the grand tour, but had gone no farther than Paris, so were in all respects as good as new. They were too good ;;-so I passed on to a third, which stood behind, and forthwith began to chaffer for the price. . . . But 'twill scarce hold two, said I, opening the door and getting in. Have the goodness, madam, said Mons. Dessein, offering his arm, to step in. .... The lady hesitated half a second, and stepped in; and the waiter that moment beckoning to speak to Mons. Dessein, he shut the door of the chaise upon us.

THE REMISE DOOR.

CALAIS.

C'EST bien comique, 'tis very droll, said the lady, smiling, from the reflection that this was the second time we had been left together by a parcel of nonsensical contingencies, c'est bien comique, said she.

There wants nothing, said I, to make it so but the comic use which the gallantry of a Frenchman would put it to,-to make love the first moment-and an offer of his person the second.

...

'Tis their forte, replied the lady.

It is supposed so, at least ;-and how it has come to pass, continued I, I know not; but they have certainly got the credit of understanding more of love, and making it better, than any other nation upon earth; but, for my own part, I think them arrant bunglers, and in truth the worst set of marksmen that ever tried Cupid's patience.

-To think of making love by sentiments!

I should as soon think of making a genteel suit of clothes out of remnants;-and to do itpop-at first sight by declaration, is submitting the offer, and themselves with it, to be sifted with all their pours and contres, by an unheated mind.

cannot say that I rejoiced in my heart at the event, and could not help telling her so ;-for it is fatal to a proposal, madam, said I, that I was going to make to you.

You need not tell me what the proposal was, said she, laying her hand upon both mine, as she interrupted me,-a man, my good sir, has seldom an offer of kindness to make to a woman but she has a presentiment of it some moments before.

...

... Nature arms her with it, said I, for immediate preservation. But I think, said she, looking in my face, I had no evil to apprehend; and, to deal frankly with you, had determined to accept it.-If I had-(she stopped a moment)-I believe your good-will would have drawn a story from me which would have made pity the only dangerous thing in the journey.

In saying this, she suffered me to kiss her hand twice; and, with a look of sensibility mixed with concern, she got out of the chaiseand bid adieu.

IN THE STREET.

CALAIS.

I NEVER finished a twelve-guinea bargain so expeditiously in my life. My time seemed heavy upon the loss of the lady; and, knowing

That selfish people hate it for their own,-
Hypocrites for Heaven's,--

And that all of us, both old and young, being ten times worse frightened than hurt by the very report...

What a want of knowledge in this branch of commerce a man betrays who ever lets the word come out of his lips till an hour or two at least after the time that his silence upon it becomes tormenting! A course of small, quiet attentions, not so pointed as to alarm, nor so vague as to be misunderstood-with now and then a look of kindness, and little or nothing said upon it-leaves Nature for your mistress, and she fashions it to her mind.

-Then I solemnly declare, said the lady, blushing,-you have been making love to me all this while.

THE REMISE.

CALAIS.

MONSIEUR Dessein came back to let us out of the chaise, and acquaint the lady that Count de L, her brother, was just arrived at the hotel. Though I had infinite good-will for the lady, I

more than a single hour in Calais

What a large volume of adventures may be grasped within this little span of life by him who interests his heart in everything, and who, having eyes to see what time and chance are perpetually holding out to him as he journeyeth on his way, misses nothing he can fairly lay his hands on.

-If this won't turn out something, another will;-no matter,-'tis an assay upon human nature;-I get my labour for my pains,-'tis enough ;-the pleasure of the experiment has kept my senses and the best part of my blood awake, and laid the gross to sleep.

pity the man who can travel from Dan to Beersheba, and cry, 'Tis all barren ;-and so it is: and so is all the world to him who will not cultivate the fruits it offers. I declare, said I, clapping my hands cheerily together, that was I in a desert, I would find out wherewith in it to call forth my affections:-if I could not doi better, I would fasten them upon some sweet myrtle, or seek some melancholy cypress to connect myself to ;-I would court their shade, and greet them kindly for their protection ;I would cut my name upon them, and swear they were the loveliest trees throughout the desert; if their leaves withered, I would teach

The learned Smelfungus travelled from Boulogne to Paris-from Paris to Rome-and so on;- but he set out with the spleen and jaundice, and every object he pass'd by was discoloured or distorted.-He wrote an account of them; but 'twas nothing but the account of his miserable feelings.

...

I met Smelfungus in the grand portico of the Pantheon :-he was just coming out of it.-'Tis nothing but a huge cock-pit,' said he. I wish you had said nothing worse of the Venus of Medicis, replied I;-for in passing through Florence, I had heard he had fallen foul upon the goddess, and used her worse than a common strumpet, without the least provocation in nature.

I popp'd upon Smelfungus again at Turin, in his return home; and a sad tale of sorrowful adventures he had to tell, 'wherein he spoke of moving accidents by flood and field, and of the cannibals who each other eat-the Anthropophagi.' He had been flay'd alive, and bedevil'd, | and used worse than St. Bartholomew at every stage he had come at.

...

I'll tell it, cried Smelfungus, to the world. .. You had better tell it, said I, to your physician.

Mundungus, with an immense fortune, made the whole tour; going on from Rome to Naples, -from Naples to Venice, - from Venice to Vienna,-to Dresden, to Berlin, without one generous connection or pleasurable anecdote to tell of; but he had travell'd straight on, looking neither to his right hand nor his left, lest Love or Pity should seduce him out of his road.

Peace be to them, if it is to be found; but heaven itself, was it possible to get there with such tempers, would want objects to give it ;every gentle spirit would come flying upon the wings of Love to hail their arrival.-Nothing would the souls of Smelfungus and Mundungus hear of but fresh anthems of joy, fresh raptures of love, and fresh congratulations of their common felicity.-I heartily pity them: they have brought up no faculties for this work: and was the happiest mansion in heaven to be allotted to Smelfungus and Mundungus, they would be so far from being happy that the souls of Smelfungus and Mundungus would do penance there to all eternity!

MONTRIUL.

I HAD once lost my portmanteau from behind my chaise, and twice got out in the rain, and one of the times up to the knees in dirt, to help the postillion to tie it on, without being able to find out what was wanting.-Nor was it till I got to Montriul, upon the landlord's asking me

1 Vide S's Travels.

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A servant! that I do, most sadly, quoth I. -Because, monsieur, said the landlord, there is a clever young fellow, who would be very proud of the honour to serve an Englishman. But why an English one more than any other?. They are so generous, said the landlord. . . . I'll be shot if this is not a livre out of my pocket, quoth I to myself, this very night. .. But they have wherewithal to be so, monsieur, added he. . . . Set down one livre more for that, quoth I. . . . It was but last night, said the landlord, qu'un my Lord Anglois presentoit un ecu à la fille de chambre. Tant pis, pour Mademoiselle Janatone, said I.

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Now Janatone being the landlord's daughter, and the landlord supposing I was young in French, took the liberty to inform me I should not have said tant pis, but tant mieux.-Tant mieux, toujours, monsieur, said he, when there is anything to be got;-tant pis, when there is nothing. . . . It comes to the same thing, said I.-Pardonnez moi, said the landlord.

I cannot take a fitter opportunity to observe, once for all, that tant pis and tant mieux, being two of the great hinges in French conversation, a stranger would do well to set himself right in the use of them before he gets to Paris.

A prompt French Marquis, at our Ambassador's table, demanded of Mr. H- if he was H- the poet? No, said Mr. H— mildly. Tant pis, replied the Marquis.

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...

It is H- the historian, said another. Tant mieux, said the Marquis.—And Mr. H, who is a man of an excellent heart, returned thanks for both.

When the landlord had set me right in this matter, he called in La Fleur, which was the name of the young man he had spoke of,-saying only first, that, as for his talents, he would presume to say nothing-monsieur was the best judge what would suit him; but for the fidelity of La Fleur, he would stand responsible in all he was worth.

The landlord delivered this in a manner which instantly set my mind to the business I was upon;-and La Fleur, who stood waiting without, in that breathless expectation which every son of Nature of us have felt in our turns, came in.

MONTRIUL.

I AM apt to be taken with all kinds of people at first sight, but never more so than when a poor devil comes to offer his service to so poor a devil as myself; and, as I know this weakness, I always suffer my judgment to draw back something on that very account-and this, more or less, according to the mood I am in, and the case; and, I may add, the gender, too, of the person I am to govern.

When La Fleur entered the room, after every

irony and laughter to reclaim it, was the vilest and most profligate town in all Thrace. What for poisons, conspiracies, and assassinations, libels, pasquinades, and tumults, there was no going there by day;-'twas worse by night.

Now, when things were at the worst, it came to pass that the Andromeda of Euripides being represented at Abdera, the whole orchestra was delighted with it; but, of all the passages which delighted them, nothing operated more upon their imaginations than the tender strokes of nature which the poet had wrought up in that pathetic speech of Perseus, O Cupid, prince of gods and men, etc. Every man almost spoke pure iambics the next day, and talked of nothing but Perseus' pathetic address, 'O Cupid, prince of gods and men!' in every street of Abdera, in every house,-'O Cupid! Cupid!'-in every mouth, like the natural notes of some sweet melody which drop from it, whether it will or no,-nothing but 'Cupid! Cupid! prince of gods and men!'-The fire caught, and the whole city, like the heart of one man, opened itself to Love.

No pharmacopolist could sell one grain of hellebore,-not a single armourer had a heart to forge one instrument of death;-Friendship and Virtue met together, and kissed each other in the street;-the golden age returned, and hung over the town of Abdera ;-every Abderite took his oaten pipe; and every Abderitish woman left her purple web, and chastely sat her down, and listened to the song.

-'Twas only in the power, says the Fragment, of the God whose empire extendeth from heaven to earth, and even to the depths of the sea, to have done this.

MONTRIUL.

WHEN all is ready, and every article is disputed and paid for at the inn, unless you are a little soured by the adventure, there is always a matter to compound at the door, before you can get into your chaise, and that is, with the sons and daughters of poverty who surround you. Let no man say, 'Let them go to the Devil!'-'tis a cruel journey to send a few miserables; and they have had sufferings enow without it. I always think it better to take a few sous out in my hand; and I would counsel every gentle traveller to do so likewise; he need not be so exact in setting down his motives for giving them-they will be registered elsewhere.

For my own part, there is no man gives so little as I do; for few that I know have so little to give but as this was the first public act of my charity in France, I took the more notice of it.

-Awell-a-way! said I,-I have but eight sous in the world, showing them in my hand, and there are eight poor men and eight poor women for them.

A poor tattered soul, without a shirt on, instantly withdrew his claim, by retiring two steps out of the circle, and making a disqualifying bow on his part. Had the whole parterre cried out, Place aux dames, with one voice, it would not have conveyed the sentiment of a deference for the sex with half the effect.

Just Heaven! for what wise reasons hast thou ordered it that beggary and urbanity, which are at such variance in other countries, should find a way to be at unity in this?

I insisted upon presenting him with a single sous, merely for his politesse.

A poor little dwarfish, brisk fellow, who stood over against me in the circle, putting something first under his arm, which had once been a hat, took his snuff-box out of his pocket, and generously offered a pinch on both sides of him: it was a gift of consequence, and modestly declined. The poor little fellow pressed it upon them with a nod of welcomeness—Prenez-en -prenez, said he, looking another way: so they each took a pinch.-Pity thy box should ever want one, said I to myself; so I put a couple of sous into it,-taking a small pinch out of his box to enhance their value, as I did it.-He felt the weight of the second obligation more than of the first,-'twas doing him an honour, -the other was only doing him a charity;-and he made me a bow to the ground for it.

... Here! said I to an old soldier with one hand, who had been campaigned and worn out to death in the service,-here's a couple of sous for thee.- -Vive le Roi! said the old soldier.

I had then but three sous left; so I gave one, simply pour l'amour de Dieu, which was the footing on which it was begged.-The poor woman had a dislocated hip; so it could not be well upon any other motive.

Mon cher et tres-charitable monsieur. There's no opposing this, said I.

...

My Lord Anglois !—the very sound was worth the money;-so I gave my last sous for it. But, in the eagerness of giving, I had overlooked a pauvre honteux, who had no one to ask a sous for him, and who, I believe, would have perished ere he could have asked one for himself; he stood by the chaise, a little without the circle, and wiped a tear from a face which I thought had seen better days.

-Good God! said I, and I have not one single sous left to give him. . . . But you have a thousand! cried all the powers of Nature, stirring within me; so I gave him—no matter what, -I am ashamed to say how much now, and was ashamed to think how little then; so if the reader can form any conjecture of my disposition, as these two fixed points are given him, he may judge within a livre or two what was the precise sum.

I could afford nothing for the rest, but Dieu rous benisse.Et le bon Dieu vous benisse encore, said the old soldier, the dwarf, etc. The