~TU THE MON K. CALAIS. IS very true, faid I, replying to a cast upwards with his eyes, with which he had concluded his addrefs-'tis very true and heaven be their resource who have no other but the charity of the world, the stock of which, I fear, is no way fufficient for the many great claims which are hourly made upon it. As I pronounced the words great claims, he gave a flight glance with his eye downwards upon the fleeve of his tunick-I felt the full force of the appeal-I acknowledge it, said I, a coarse habit, and that but once in three years with meagre diet are no great matters: and the true point of pity is, as they can be earn'd in the world with fo little industry, that your order should wish to procure them by preffing upon a fund which is the property of the lame, the blind, the aged, and the infirm -the captive who lies down counting over and over again the days of his afflictions, languishes alfo for his fhare of it; and had you been of the order of mercy, inftead of the order of St. Francis, poor as I am, continued I, pointing at my portmanteau, full chearfully fhould it have been open'd to you, for the ransom of the unfortunate —The monk made me a bow -but of all others, refumed I, the unfortunate of our own country, furely, have the firft rights; and I have left thousands in distress upon our own shore The monk gave a cordial wave 7 -- wave with his head The poor Franciscan made no reply: a hectic of a moment pass'd across his cheek, but could not tarry-Nature feemed to have had done with her refentments in him; he fhewed none - but letting his staff fall within his arm, he prefs'd both his hands with refignation upon his breaft, and retired. THE 1 M THE MON K. CALAI S. Y heart fmote me the moment he shut the door-Pfha! faid I, with an air of Careleffnefs, three feveral times-but it would not do: every ungracious fyllable I had uttered, crowded back into my imagination; I reflected, I had no right over the poor Francifcan, but to deny him; and that the punishment of that was enough to the difappointed without the addition of unkind language - I confider'd his grey hairs his courteous figure feemed to re-enter and gently afk me what injury he had done me?and why I could use him thus?—I would have given twenty livres for an advocate-I have behaved very ill, faid I within myself; but I have only just fet out upon my travels; and shall learn better manners as I get along. THE THE DESOBLIGEANT. WHEN CALAIS. 'HEN a man is discontented with himfelf, it has one advantage however, that it puts him into an excellent frame of mind for making a bargain. Now there being no travelling through France and Italy without a chaife—and nature generally prompting us to the thing we are fitteft for, I walk'd out into the coach-yard to buy or hire fomething of that kind to my purpose: an old * Desobligeant in the furtheft corner of the court, hit my fancy at firft fight, fo I inftantly got into it, and finding it in tolerable harmony with my feelings, I ordered the waiter to call Monfieur Deffein the master of the hotel --but Monfieur Deffein being gone to vefpers, and not caring to face the Francifcan whom I faw on the oppofite fide of the court, in conference with a lady just arrived at the inn-1 drew the taffeta curtain betwixt us, and being determined to write my journey, I took out my pen and ink, and wrote the preface to it in the Defobligeant. * A chaife, fo called in France, from its holding but one person. PRE PREFACE. IN THE DESOBLIGEANT. T must have been obferved by many a peripatetic philofopher, That nature has fet up by her own unquestionable authority certain boundaries and fences to circumfcribe the difcontent of man: fhe has effected her purpofe in the quietest and easiest manner by laying him under almost infuperable obligations to work out his ease, and to fuftain his fufferings at home. It is there only that he has provided him with the moft fuitable objects to partake of his happinefs, and bear a part of that burden which, in all countries and ages, has ever been too heavy for one pair of fhoulders. 'Tis true we are endued with an imperfect power of spreading our happiness fometimes beyond her limits, but 'tis fo ordered, that from the want of languages, connections, and dependencies, and from the difference in education, customs and habits, we lie under fo many impediments in communicating our fenfations out of our own sphere, as often amount to a total impoffibility. It will always follow from hence, that the balance of fentimental commerce is always against the expatriated adventurer: he must buy what he has little occafion for at their own price his conversation will feldom be taken in exchange for theirs without a large discount and this, by the bye, eternally driving him into the hands of more equitable brokers for fuch conversation |