music in an Italian street,whereof those may partake who pay nothing-But there is no nation under Heaven and God is my record (before whose tribunal I must one day come, and give an account of this work) that I do not speak it vauntingly --but there is no nation under Heaven abounding with more variety of learning -where the sciences may be more fitly woo'd, or more surely won, than here-where art is encouraged, and will soon rise high-where Nature (take her altogether) has so little to answer för—and, to close all, where there is more wit and variety of character to feed the mind with-Where then, my dear countrymen, are you going?—

We are only looking at this chaise, said they-Your most obedient servant, said I, skipping out of it, and pulling off my hat-We were wondering, said one of them, who, I found, was an inquisitive traveller-what could occasion its motion.

'Twas the agitation, said I coolly, of writing a Preface-I never heard, said the other, who was a simple traveller, of a Preface wrote in a desobligeant-It would have been better, said I, in a vis-à-vis. · -As an Englishman does not travel to see Englishmen, I retired to my room.

I

CALAIS.

PERCEIVED that something darkened the passage more than myself, as I stepped along it to my room; it was effectu. ally Mons. Dessein, the master of the hotel, who had just returned from vespers, and with his hat under his arm, was most complaisantly following me, to put me in mind of my wants. I had wrote myself pretty well out of conceit with the desobligeant: and Mons. Dessein speaking of it, with a shrug, as if it would no ways

suit me, it immediately struck my fancy that it belonged to some innocent traveller, who, on his return home, had left it to Mons. Dessein's honour to make the most of. Four months had elapsed since it had finished its career of Europe in the corner of Mons. Dessein's coach-yard; and having sallied out from thence but a vamptup business at the first, though it had been twice taken to pieces on Mount Sennis, it had not profited much by its adventures-but by none so little as the standing so many months unpitied in the corner of Mons. Dessein's coach-yard. Much indeed was not to be said for itbut something might-and when a few words will rescue misery out of her distress, I hate the man who can be a churl of them.

-Now was I the master of this hotel, said I, laying the point of my forefinger on Mons. Dessein's breast, I would inevitably make a point of getting rid of this

unfortunate desobligeant-it stands swinging reproaches at you every time you pass by it

Mon Dieu! said Mons. Dessein-I have no interest-Except the interest, said I, which men of a certain turn of mind take, Mons. Dessein, in their own sensations-I'm persuaded, to a man who feels for others as well as for himself, every rainy night, disguise it as you will, must cast a damp upon your spirits-You suffer, Mons. Dessein, as much as the machine

I have always observed, when there is as much sour as sweet in a compliment, that an Englishınan is eternally at a loss within himself, whether to take it, or let it alone a Frenchman never is-Mons. Dessein made me a bow.

C'est bien vrai, said he-But in this case I should only exchange one disquietude for another, and with loss: figure to yourself, my dear Sir, that in giving you a

chaise which would fall to pieces before you had got half way to Paris-figure to yourself how much I should suffer, in giving an ill impression of myself to a man of honour, and lying at the mercy, as I must do, d'un homme d'esprit.

The dose was made up exactly after my own prescription: so I could not help taking it and returning Mons. Dessein his bow, without more casuistry we walked together towards his Remise, to take a view of his magazine of chaises.

IN THE STREET.

CALAIS.

Ir must needs be a hostile kind of a world, when the buyer (if it be but of a sorry post-chaise) cannot go forth with the seller thereof into the street to ter