THE REMISE DOOR. CALAIS. WHEN I told the reader that I did not care to get out of the Defobligeant, because I saw the monk in close conference with a lady just arrived at the inn ---I told him the truth; but I did not tell him the whole truth; for I was full as much reftrained by the appearance and figure of the lady he was talking to. Sufpicion croffed my brain, and faid, he was telling her what had paffed; fomething jarred upon it within me--I wished him at his convent. When the heart flies out before the understanding, it faves the judgment a world of pains---I was certain fhe was of a better order of beings--however, I thought no more of her, but went on andwrote my preface. The impreffion returned upon my encounter with her in the street; a guarded franknefs with which she gave me her hand, fhowed, I thought, her good education and her good fenfe; and as I led her on, I felt a pleasurable ductility about her, which spread a calmness over all my fpirits ---Good God! how a man might lead fuch a creature as this round the world with him. I had not yet feen her face---'twas not material; for the drawing was instantly set about, and long before we had got to the door of the Remifé, Fancy had finish'd the whole head, and pleased herself as much with its fitting her goddess, as if she had dived into the TIBER for it---but thou art a feduced and a feducing flut; and albeit thou cheatest us seven times a-day with thy pictures and images, yet with so many charms doft thou do it, and thou deckest out thy pictures in the shapes of so many angels of light, 'tis a fhame to break with thee. When we had got to the door of the Remise, she withdrew her hand from across her forehead, and let me fee the original--it was a face of about fix-andtwenty of a clear transparent brown, fimply fet off without rouge or powder-it was not critically handfome, but there was that in it, which, in the frame of mind I was in, attached me much more to it—it was interesting; I fancied it wore the characters of a widow'd look, and in that state of declenfion, which had paffed the two firft paroxyfms of forrow, and was quietly beginning to reconcile itfelf to its lofs. but a thousand other diftreffes might have traced the fame lines; I wish'd to know what they had been----and was ready to inquire (had the fame bon ton of converfation permitted, as in the days of Efdras)" What "aileth thee? and why art thou difquieted? and "why is thy understanding troubled?"—In a word, I felt benevolence for her; and refolved some way or other to throw in my mite of courtesy------if not of service. Such were my temptations------and in this difpofition to give way to them, was I left alone with the lady, with her hand in mine, and with our faces both turned clofer to the door of the Remise than what was abfolutely neceffary. THE REMISE DOOR. CALAIS. THIS certainly, fair lady! faid I, raifing her hand up a little lightly as I began, must be one of Fortune's whimsical doings; to take two utter ftrangers by their hands-of different sexes, and, perhaps, from different corners of the globe, and, in one moment, place them together in fuch a cordial fituation, as friendship herself could scarce have atchieved for them, had the projected it for a month. -And your reflection upon it, shows how much, Monfieur, she has embarraffed you by the adven ture When the fituation is what fhe fhould wish, nothing is fo ill-timed as to hint at the circumftances which make it fo: you thank Fortune, continued fhe-you had reafon--the heart knew it, and was satisfied; and who but an English philofopher would have fent notice of it to the brain, to reverse the judgment. In faying this, fhe difengaged her hand with a look which I thought a fufficient commentary upon the text. It is a miferable picture which I am going to give of the weakness of my heart, by owning, that it fuffered a pain, which worthier occafions could not have inflicted. I was mortified with the lofs of her hand, and the manner in which I had loft it, carried neither oil nor wine to the wound: I never felt the pain of a sheepish inferiority fo miferably in my life. The triumphs of a true feminine heart are short upon these discomfitures. In a very few seconds she laid her hand upon the cuff of my coat, in order to finish her reply; fo, fome way or other, God knows how, I regained my fituation. -She had nothing to add. I forthwith began to model a different converfation for the lady, thinking, from the spirit as well as the moral of this, that I had been mistaken in her character; but upon turning her face towards me, the spirit which had animated the reply was fled——the muscles relax'd, and I beheld the fame unprotected look of diftrefs which first won me to her interest -melancholy! to fee fuch fprightlinefs the prey of forrow. I pitied her from my foul; and, though it may feem ridiculous enough to a torpid heart—I. could have taken her into my arms, and cherished her, though it was in the open ftreet, without blushing. The pulfations of the arteries along my fingers preffing across hers, told her what was paffing within me: fhe looked down- -a filence of fome moments followed. I fear, in this interval, I must have made some flight efforts towards a clofer compreffion of her hand, from a fubtle fenfation I felt in the palm of my own-not as if she was going to withdraw hers --but as if the thought about it-and I had infal libly loft it a fecond time, had not inftinct more than reafon, directed me to the last resource in these dangers------to hold it loosely, and in a manner as if I was every moment going to release it, of myfelf; fo she let it continue, till Monfieur Deffein returned with the key; and, in the mean time, I set myself to confider how I fhould undo the ill impreffions which the poor monk's ftory, in cafe he had told it her, must have planted in her breast against me. THE SNUFF-BOX. CALAIS. THE good old monk was within fix paces of us, as the idea of him crofs'd my mind; and was advancing towards us a little out of the line, as if uncertain whether he should break in upon us or no.He stopp'd, however, as foon as he came up to us, with a world of frankness; and having à horn snuffbox in his hand, he prefented it open to meYou shall tafte mine--faid I, pulling out my box (which was a small tortoise one) and putting it into his hand-'Tis moft excellent, faid the monk: Then do me the favour, I replied, to accept of the box and all, and when you take a pinch out of it, sometimes recollect it was the peace-offering of a man who once used you unkindly, but not from his heart. The poor monk blush'd as red as fcarlet. Mon Dieu! faid he, preffing his hands together-you never ufed me unkindly. I fhould think, faid the |