The Adieu. deal frankly with you, had determined to accept it.---If I had---(she stopped a moment)---I be lieve 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 a concern, she got out of the chaise,---and 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 every moment of it would be as two, till I put myself tures; had our author ever seen his treatise, it would, probably, in him, have given birth to much pleasantry and hu mour. 66 Perhaps (says Dr. Ferriar) no man possessed so many requisites for producing a good work on physiognomy. His observation of character was sagacious, minutely accurate, and unwearied. His feeling was ever just, versatile as life itself, and was conveyed to the reader with full effect, because without affectation. But his imagination was ill regulated, and it had a constant tendency to form combinations on this particular subject, which his taste alone, to say nothing of other motives, should have led him to reject." Illustrations of Sterne. The Pleasures of Society. into motion---I ordered post-horses directly, and walked towards the hôtel. Lord! said I, hearing the town clock strike four, and recollecting that I had been little 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 every thing, 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. I 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 do 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 Smelfungus. upon them, and swear they were the loveliest trees throughout the desert: if their leaves wither'd, I would teach myself to mourn, and when they rejoiced, I would rejoice along with them. 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 cockpit, 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 had he to tell," wherein he spoke of moving accidents by flood and field, and of the * Our author here ridicules Dr. Smollet's Travels through France and Italy, 2 vols. 12mo. which, however curious and interesting, have been always censured for those splenetic remarks which originated from the author's bodily infirmities. Splenetic Travellers. cannibals which 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 Naplesfrom Naples to Venice-from Venice to Vienna -to Dresden, to Berlin, without one generous connection or pleasurable anecdote to tell of; but he had travelled straight on, looking neither to his right hand or 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. Eulogy on English Generosity. 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 if I wanted not a servant, that it occurred to me, that that was the very thing. A servant! That do I most sadly, quoth IBecause, 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 á la fille de chambre---Tant pis, pour Madamoiselle Janatone, said I. 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 any thing |