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manteau and all must have gone to the king of France-even the little picture which I have so long worn, and fo often have told thee, Eliza, I would carry with me into my grave, would have been torn from my neck.-Ungenerous !--to seize upon the wreck of an unwary passenger, whom your fubjects had beckond to their coast-by heaven ! SIRE, it is not well done ; and much does it grieve ine, 'tis the monarch of a people fo civilized and courteous, and so renown'd for sentiment and fine feelings, that I have to reafon with
But I have scarce set foot in your dominions
THEN I had finithed my dinner, and drank
the king of France's health, to satisfy my mind that I bore him no spleen, but, on the contrary, high honour for the humanity of his temper I rose up an inch taller for the accommodation.
-Norfaid I-the Bourbon is by no means a cruel race : they may be misled like other people ; but there is a mildness in their blood. As I acknowledged this, I felt a fúffusion of a mer kind, upon my cheek-more warm and friendly to man than what Burgundy (at least of two livres a bottle, which was such as I had been drinking) could have produced.
Just God! said I, kicking my portmanteau a. side, what is there in this world's goods which should Marpen our fpirits, and make fo many kind, hearted brethren of us, fall out fo cruelly as we do by the way?
When man is at peace with man, how much fighter than a feather is the heaviest metals in his hand! he pulls out his purse, and holding it airily and uncompress'd, looks round him, as if he fought for an object to share it with.-- In doing this, I felt every vessel in my frame dilate-the arteries beat all chearily together, and every power which su. ftained life, performed it with fo little friction, that 'twould have confounded the most physical precieuse in France : with all her materialism, she could fcarce have called me a machine
I'on confident, faid I to myself, I should have overset her creed.
The accession of that idea, carried nature, at that time, as high as the could go— I was at peace with the world before, and this finish'd the treaty with myself
-Now, was I a King of France, cried I-what a moment for an orphan to have begg’d his father's portmanteau of me!
THE MON K.
CA LA I S.
Had scarce uttered these words, when a poor I toom to beg fomething for his convent. No man cares to have his virtues the sport of contingencies or one man may be generous, as another man is puissant--fed non, quo ad hanc--or be it as it mayfor there is no regular reasoning upon the ebbs and flows of our humours; they may depend upon the same causes, for ought I know, wliich in
fluence the tides themselves-'twould oft be no difcredit to us to suppose it was so : I'mn, fire at least for myself, that, in many a cafe I Mould be more highly satisfied, to have it said by the world, “I " had had an affair with the moon, in which there « was neither fin nor fhame," than have it pass altogether as my own act and deed, wherein there was so much af both.
-But be this as it may. The moment I caft my eyes upon him, I was predetermined not to give him a single sous; and accordingly I put my purse into my pocket-button'd it up-set myself a little more upon my centre, and advanced up gravely to him: there was something, I fear, forbidding in my look: I have his figure this moment before my eyes, and think there was that in it which deserved better,
The monk, as I judged from the break in his tona sure, a few scatter'd white hairs upon his temples, being all that remained of it, might be about seventy--but from his eyes, and that sort of fire which was in them, which seemed more temper'd by courtesy than years, could be no more than fixty-Truth might lie between-He was certainly sixty-five; and the general air of his countenance, notwithstanding, something seemed to have been planting wrinkles in it before their tine, agreed to the ac
It was one of those heads, which Guido has often painted-mild, pale--penetrating, free from all common.place ideas of fat.contented ignorance, looking downwards upon the earth-it look'd for. wards; but look’d, as if it look'd at something beyond this world. How one of his order came by it, heaven above, who let it fall upon a monk's Moulders, best knows ; but it would have fuited a
Bramin, and had I met it upon the plains of Indo stan, I had reverenced it. .
The rest of his outline may be given in a few strokes ; one might put it into the hands of any one to design, for 'twas neither elegant or otherwise, but as character and expression made it so: it was a thin, spare form, something above the common size, if it loft not the distinction by a bend forwards in the figure-but it was the attitude of Entreaty ; and, as it now stands presented to my imagination, it gained more than it lost by it.
When he had enter'd the room three paces,
he stood ftill; and laying his left hand upon his breast, (a flender white ftaff with which he journey'd being in his right)—when I had got close up to him, he introduced himself with the little story of the wants of his convent, and the poverty of his order and did it with so simple a grace and such an air of deprecation was there in the whole cast of his look and figure-I was bewitch'd not to have been Itruck with it
-A better reason was, I had predetermined not to give him a single sous.
Τ THE MON K.
IS very true, said I, replying to a cast up.
wards with his eyes, with which he had concluded his address-'tis very true--and heaven be their resource who have no other but the chari: ty of the world, the stock of which, I fear, is no
way fufficient for the many great claims which are hourly made upon it. : As I pronounced the words great claims, he gave a slight glance with his eye downwards upon the fleeve of his tunic-I felt the full force of the ap: peal-I acknowledge it, said I-a coarse habit, and thát but once in three years, with meagre dietare no great matters; and the true point of pity is, as they can be earn'd in the world with so little in dustry, that your order should wish to procure them by pressing upon a fund which is the property of the lame, the blind, the aged, and the infirm-the captive who lies down counting over and over again the days of his afflictions, languilhes also for his share of it: and had you been of the order of Mercy, instead of the order of St Francis, poor as Í
am, continued I, pointing at iny pórtniantean, full chear. fully should it have been opend to you, for the ransom of the unfortunate_The Monk made me a bow-but of all others, resumed I, the unfortu. nate of our own country, surely have the first rights ; and I have left thousands in distress upon our own shore-the monk gave a cordial wave with his head
-as much as to say, No doubt there is misery e. nough in every corner of the world as well as within our convent-But we distinguish, said I, laying my hand upon
the sleeve of his tunic, în return for his appeal-we distinguish, my good father! betwixt those who wifi only to eat the bread of their own labour, and those who eat the bread of other peo. ple's, and have no other plant in life, but to get through it in floth and ignorance, for the love of God.
Franciscan made no reply: a hectic of a moment pass’d across his cheek, but could not tarry-Nature seemed to have done with her re. fentments in him; he fewed none--but letting his