room, just whilst it passed my brain, I walked down calmly into the Basse Cour, in order to sally forth; and, having called for my bill,—as it was uncertain whether I should return to my inn, I had paid it,had, moreover, given the maid ten sous, and was just receiving the dernier compliments of Monsieur Le Blanc, for a pleasant voyage down the Rhone,--when I was stopped at the gate. CHAPTER CCXXXIII. 'Twas by a poor ass, who had just turned in with a couple of large panniers upon his back, to collect eleemosynary turnip-tops and cabbage-leaves; and stood dubious, with his two fore-feet on the inside of the threshold, and with his two hinder-feet towards the street, as not knowing very well whether he was to go in or no. Now 'tis an animal (be in what hurry I may) I cannot bear to strike;-there is a patient endurance of sufferings wrote so unaffectedly in his looks and carriage, which pleads so mightily for him, that it always disarms me; and to that degree, that I do not like to speak unkindly to him: on the contrary, meet him where I will, whether in town or country,—in cart or under panniers,-whether in liberty or bondage,-I have ever something civil to say to him on my part; and, as one word begets another, (if he has as little to do as I)—I generally fall into conversation with him; and surely never is my imagination so busy as in framing his responses from the etchings of his countenance; and where those carry me not deep enough, -in flying from my own heart into his, and seeing what is natural for an ass to think,—as well as a man, upon the occasion. In truth, it is the only creature, of all the classes of beings below me, with whom I can do this; for parrots, jackdaws, &c. I never exchange a word with them,-nor with apes, &c. for pretty near the same reason; they act by rote, as others speak by it, and equally make me silent; nay, my dog and my cat, though I value them both-(and, for my dog, he would speak if he could)—yet, somehow or other, they neither of them possess the talents for conversation;-I can make nothing of a discourse with them beyond the proposition, the reply, and rejoinder, which terminated my father's and my mother's conversations in his beds of justice;-and those uttered,there's an end of the dialogue. -But, with an ass, I can commune for ever. -Come, Honesty! said I,-seeing it was impracticable to pass betwixt him and the gate,-art thou for coming in, or going out? street. driver. -The ass twisted his head round, to look up the -Well, replied I, we'll wait a minute for thy He turned his head thoughtful about, and looked wistfully the opposite way. I understand thee perfectly, answered I;-if thou takest a wrong step in this affair, he will cudgel thee to death. Well, a minute is but a minute, and, if it saves a fellow-creature a drubbing, it shall not be set down as ill-spent. He was eating the stem of an artichoke as this discourse went on, and, in the little peevish contentions of nature betwixt hunger and unsavouriness, had dropped it out of his mouth half a dozen times, and picked it up again.-God help thee, Jack! said I; thou hast a bitter breakfast on't,-and many a bitter day's labour, and many a bitter blow, I fear, for its wages!-'tis all-all bitterness to thee, whatever life is to others! And now thy mouth, if one knew the truth of it, is as bitter, I dare say, as soot-(for he had cast aside the stem) and thou hast not a friend, caroon. perhaps, in all this world, that will give thee a maIn saying this, I pulled out a paper of 'em, which I had just purchased, and gave him one ;-and, at this moment that I am telling it, my heart smites me, that there was more of pleasantry in the conceit of seeing how an ass would eat a macaroon,—than of benevolence in giving him one, which presided in the act. When the ass had eaten his macaroon, I pressed him to come in ;—the poor beast was heavy loaded,his legs seemed to tremble under him, he hung rather backwards; and, as I pulled at his halter, it broke short in my hand. He looked up pensive in my face'Don't thrash me with it ;-but, if you will, you may.' -If I do, said I, I'll be d -d. The word was but one half of it pronounced, like the Abbess of Andoüillets'-(so there was no sin in it) when a person coming in, let fall a thundering bastinado upon the poor devil's crupper, which put an end to the ceremony. Out upon it! cried I;-but the interjection was equivocal, and, I think, wrong placed too;-for the end of an osier, which had started out from the contexture of the ass's pannier, had caught hold of my breeches-pocket, as he rushed by me, and rent it in the most disastrous direction you can imagine ;-so that the Out upon it! in my opinion, should have come in here;—but this I leave to be settled by THE REVIEWERS OF MY BREECHES, which I have brought over along with me for that purpose. CHAPTER CCXXXIV. When all was set to rights, I came down stairs again into the Basse Cour with my valet de place, in order to sally out towards The Tomb of the two Lovers, &c.—and was a second time stopped at the gate,-not by the ass, but by the person who struck him; and who, by that time, had taken possession (as is not uncommon after a defeat) of the very spot of ground where the ass stood. It was a commissary sent to me from the post-office, with a rescript in his hand, for the payment of some six livres odd sous. Upon what account? said I.'Tis upon the part of the king, replied the commissary, heaving up both his shoulders. -My good friend, quoth I,-as sure as I am I, and you are you, -And who are you? said he. CHAPTER CCXXXV. -But it is an indubitable verity, continued I, addressing myself to the commissary, changing only the form of my asseveration, that I owe the king of France nothing but my good-will: for he is a very honest man, and I wish him all health and pastime in the world. Pardonnez moi,-replied the commissary; you are indebted to him six livres four sous for the next post from hence to St. Fons, in your route to Avignon ;which being a post royal, you pay double for the horses and postilion,-otherwise 'twould have amounted to no more than three livres two sous. -But I don't go by land, said I. VOL. II. H sary. -You may, if you please, replied the commis -Your most obedient servant, said I, making him a low bow. The commissary, with all the sincerity of grave good breeding,-made me one as low again.-I never was more disconcerted with a bow in my life. -The devil take the serious character of these people! quoth I-(aside)—they understand no more of irony than this The comparison was standing close by with his panniers, but something sealed up my lips;-I could not pronounce the name. -Sir, said I, collecting myself, it is not my intention to take post. -But you may, said he, persisting in his first reply; you may take post if you choose. And I may take salt to my pickled herring, said I, if I choose. -But I do not choose. -But you must pay for it whether you do or no. -Ay, for the salt, said I (I know). -And for the post too, added he.me! cried I. -Defend -I travel by water;-I am going down the Rhone this very afternoon;-my baggage is in the boat, and I have actually paid nine livres for my passage. C'est tout égal,—'tis all one, said he. Bon Dieu! what, pay for the way I go! and for the way I do not go ! C'est tout égal, replied the commissary. -The devil it is! said I; but I will go to ten thousand Bastiles first. O England! England! thou land of liberty, and climate of good sense! thou tenderest of mothers, and gentlest of nurses! cried I, kneeling upon one knee, as I was beginning my apostrophe, |