would not take him from him, also, he would' go in gratitude to St.-Iago in Spain. When the mourner got thus far in his story, he stopped to pay Nature her tribute--and wept bitterly.et eigen b He said, Heaven had accepted the conditions; and that he had set out from his cottage with this poor creature, who had been a patient partner of his journey--that it had eat the same bread with him all the way, and was unto him as a friend. Every body who stood about, heard the poor fellow with concern--La Fleur offered him money--The mourner said he did not want it--it was not the value of the ass--but the loss of him--The ass, he said, he was assured, loved him--and upon this, told them a long story of a mischance upon their passage over the Pyrenean mountains, which had separated them from each other three days; during which time the ass had sought him as much as he had sought the ass, and that neither had scarce eat or drank till they met.. Thou hast one comfort, friend, said I, at least, in the loss of thy poor beast; I am sure thou hast been a merciful master to him.→→ Alas! said the mourner, I thought so, when he was alive--but now he is déad I think otherwise--I fear the weight of myself--and my afflictions together-bave been too much for him --they have shortened the poor creature's days, and I fear I have them to answer for.--Shame on the world! said I to myself.--Did we love each other, as this poor soul but lov'd his ass -'twould be something.. - STERNE. WHEN states and empires have their periods of declension and feel in their turns what distress and poverty is--I stop not to tell the causes which gradually brought the house of d'E**** in Britany into decay. The Marquis d'E**** had fought up against his condition with great firmness; wishing to preserve and still shew to the world some little fragments of what his ancestors had been--their indiscretion had put it out of his power. There was enough left for the little exigencies of obscurity--But he had two boys who looked up to him for light--he thought they deserved it. He had tried his sword--it could not open the way--the mounting was too expensive--and simple economy was not a match for it--There was no resource but commerce. In any other province in France, save Britany, this was smiting the root for ever of the little tree his pride and affection wished to see re-blossom--But in Britany, there being a provision for this, he availed himself of it; and taking an occasion when the states were assembled at Rennes, the Marquis, attended with his two sons, entered the court; and having pleaded the right of an ancient law of the duchy, which, though seldom claimed, he said, was no less in force; he took his sword from his side--Here-said he take it; and be trusty guardians of it, till better times put me in a condition to claim it. The president accepted the Marquis's sword -he staid a few minutes to see it deposited in the archives of his house--and departed. The Marquis and his whole family embarked 1 35 the next day for Martinico, and in about nineteen or twenty years of successful application to business, with some unlooked for bequests from distant branches of his house--returned home to reclaim his nobility, and to support it. It was an incident of good fortune which will never happen to any traveller but to a sentimental one, that I should be at Rennes at the very time of this solemn requisition; I call it solemn--it was so to me. The Marquis entered the court with his whole family; he supported his lady--his eldest son supported his sister, and his youngest was at the other extreme of the line next his mother--he put his handkerchief to his face twice- There was a dead silence.--When the Marquis had approached within six paces of the tribunal, he gave the Marchioness to his youngest son, and advancing three steps before his family --he reclaimed his sword.--His sword was given him, and the moment he got it into his hand he drew it almost out of the scabbard--it was the shining face of a friend he had once given up. He looked attentively a long time at it, beginning at the hilt, as if to see whether it was the same--when observing a little rust which it had contracted near the point, he brought it near his eye, and bending his head down over it-I think I saw a tear fall upon the place I could not be deceived by what followed. : « I shall find some other way to get it off. » When the Marquis had said this, he returned his sword into its scabbard, made a bow to the guardian of it--and, with his wife and daughter, and his two sons following him, walked out. O how I envied him his feelings! STERNE. СНАР. XI. Maria. First part. --THEY were the sweetest notes I ever heard; and I instantly let down the foreglass to hear them more distinctly - 'Tis Maria, said the postillion, observing I was listening--Poor Maria, continued he, (leaning his body on one side to let me see her, for he was in a line between us,) is sitting upon a bank playing her vespers upon her pipe, with her little goat beside her. The young fellow uttered this with an accent and a look so perfectly in tune to a feeling heart, that I instantly made a vow, I would give him a four-and-twenty sous piece, when I got to Moulins- And who is poor Maria? said I. The love and pity of all the villages around us, said the postillion.--It is but three years ago, that the sun did not shine upon so fair, so quick-witted, and amiable a maid; and better fate did Maria deserve, than to have her banns forbid, by the intrigues of the curate of the parish who published them- * He was going on, when Maria, who had made a short pause, put the pipe to her mouth and began the air again--they were the same notes; yet were ten times sweeter it is the evening service to the Virgin, said the young man--but who has taught her to play it--or how she came by her pipe, no one knows: we think that Heaven has assisted her in both; for ever since she has been unsettled in her mind, it seems her only consolation--she has never once had the pipe out of her hand, but plays that service upon it almost night and day. The postillion delivered this with so much discretion and natural eloquence, that I could not help decyphering something in his face above his condition, and should have sifted out his history, had not poor Maria taken such full possession of me. We had got up by this time almost to the bank where Maria was sitting: she was in a thin white jacket, with her hair, all but two tresses, drawn up in a silk net, with a few olive leaves twisted a little fantastically on one side--she was beautiful; and if ever I felt the full force of an honest heart-ach, it was the moment I saw her- masses, God help her, poor damsel! above an hundred said the postillion, have been said in the several parish-churches and convents around for her--but without effect; we have still hopes, as she is sensible for short intervals, that the Virgin at last will restore her to herself; but her parents, who know her best, are hopeless upon that score, and think her senses are lost for ever. As the postillion spoke this, Maria made a cadence so melancholy, so tender and querulous, that I sprung out of the chaise to help her, and found myself sitting betwixt her and her goat, before I relapsed from my enthusiasm. Maria looked wistfully for some time at me and then at her goat--and then at me--and then at her goat again, and so on alternately- --Well, Maria, said I softly--What resem blance do you find? I do entreat the candid reader to believe me, |