II THE PASSPORT. The Hotel at Paris. COULD not find in my heart to torture La Fleur's with a serious look upon the subject of my embarrassment, which was the reason I had treated it so cavalierly: and to shew him how light it lay upon my mind, I dropt the subject entirely; and whilst he waited upon me at supper, talk'd to him with more than usual gaiety about Paris, and of the opera comique.-La Fleur had been there himself, and had followed me through the streets as far as the bookseller's shop; but seeing me come out with the young fille de chambre, and that we walk'd down the Quai de Conti together, La Fleur deem'd it unnecessary to follow me a step further-so making his own reflections upon it, he took a shorter cut and got to the hotel in time to be inform'd of the affair of the Police against my arrival. As soon as the honest creature had taken away, and gone down to sup himself, I then began to think a little seriously about my situation. -And here, I know, Eugenius, thou wilt smile at the remembrance of a short dialogue which pass'd betwixt us the moment I was going to set out I must tell it here. Eugenius, knowing that I was as little subject to be overburthen'd with money as thought, had drawn me aside to interrogate me how much I had taken care for; upon telling him the exact sum, Eugenius shook his head, and said it would not do; so pull'd out his purse in order to empty it into mine. I've enough, in conscience, Eugenius, said I. Indeed, Yorick, you have not, replied Eugenius-I know France and Italy better than you. But you don't consider, Eugenius, said I, refusing his offer, that before I have been three days in Paris, I shall take care to say or do something or other for which I shall get clapp'd up into the Bastile, and that I shall live there a couple of months entirely at the king of France's expence. I beg pardon, said Eugenius, drily: really, I had forgot that resource. Now the event I treated gaily, came seriously to my door. Is it folly, or nonchalance, or philosophy, or pertinacity or what is it in me, that, after all, when La Fleur had gone down stairs, and I was quite alone, I could not bring down my mind to think of it otherwise than I had then spoken of it to Eugenius? -And as for the Bastile! the terror is in the word-Make the most of it you can, said I to myself, the Bastile is but another word for a tower-and a tower is but another word for a house you can't get out of Mercy on the gouty! for they are in it twice a year-but with nine livres a day, and pen and ink and paper and patience, albeit a man can't get out, he may do very well within-at least for a month or six weeks; at the end of which, if he is a harmless fellow, his innocence appears, and he comes out a better and wiser man than he went in. I had some occasion (I forgot what) to step into the court-yard, as I settled this account; and remember I walk'd down stairs in no small triumph with the conceit of my reasoning-Beshrew the sombre pencil! said I vauntingly-for I envy not its powers, which paints the evils of life with so hard and deadly a colouring. The mind sits terrified at the obiects she has magnified herself, and blackened: reduce them to their proper size and hue, she overlooks them-'Tis true said I, correcting the proposition-the Bastile is not an evil to be despised-but strip it of its towers-fill up the fosse unbarricade the doors-call it simply a confinement, and suppose 'tis some tyrant of a distemper-and not of a man which holds you in it-the evil vanishes, and you bear the other half without complaint. I was interrupted in the hey-day of this soliloquy, with a voice which I took to be of a child, which complained "it could not get out."-I look'd up and down the passage, and seeing neither man, woman, or child, I went out without further attention. In my return back through the passage, I heard the same words repeated twice over; and looking up, I saw it was a starling hung in a little cage.-"I can't get out-I can't get out," said the starling. I stood looking at the bird: and to every person who came through the passage it ran fluttering to the side towards which they approach'd it, with the same lamentation of its captivity"I can't get out," said the starling-God help thee! said I, but I'll let thee out, cost what it will; so I turn'd about the cage to get the door; it was twisted and double twisted so fast with wire, there was no getting it open without pulling the cage to pieces-I took both hands to it. The bird flew to the place where I was attempting his deliverance, and thrusting his head through the trellis, press'd his breast against it, as if impatient-I fear, poor creature! said I, I cannot set thee at liberty-"No," said the starling-"I can't get out-I can't get out," said the starling. I vow, I never had my affections more tenderly awakened; or do I remember an incident in my life, where the dissipated spirits, to which my reason had been a bubble, were so suddenly call'd home. Mechanical as the notes were, yet so true in tune to nature were they chanted, that in one moment they overthrew all my systematic reasonings upon the Bastile; and I heavily walk'd up stairs, unsaying every word I had said in going down them. |