him.

His carriage could scarcely proceed through the streets, and he was continually surrounded by a multitude who blessed him and celebrated his works. At the theatre, his bust was crowned in the midst of applause, cries of joy, and tears of enthusiasm. The spectators followed him to his apartments, and the air was filled with the cries of Long live Voltaire !' Numbers fell at his feet, and many kissed his garments. Never was man received with more interesting marks of admiration and of public affection; nor ever has genius been honoured by a more flattering homage.

At this same time, Paris boasted, also, the presence of the celebrated Franklin, the apostle of philosophy and toleration. Franklin was eager to see a mar whose reputation had been spread over both worlds. The American philosopher presented his grandson to Voltaire, with a request that he would give him his benediction. 'God and liberty!' said Voltaire, 'is the only benediction which can be given to the grandson of Franklin.'

His strength was wasted by such continued application; and he had been much reduced by a spitting of blood, caused by his efforts during the representation of Irene.' At length, deprived of sleep, he resolved to take opium, and was deceived as to the quantity. His body was unable to contend with the poison; and as he had been long subject to a complaint in the bladder, an incurable disease was soon contracted. He died on the 30th of May, 1778, in the eighty-fifth year of his age; and between the time of the fatal accident and his death, he scarcely preserved his recollection for a few successive moments.

As a philosopher he was the first to afford an example of a private citizen, who, by his wishes and his endeavours, embraced the general history of man in every country and in every age, opposing error and oppression of every kind, and defending and promulgating every useful truth.

A

SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY,

ETC. ETC.

-THEY order, said I, this matter better in France.-You have been in France, said my gentleman, turning quick upon me with the most civil triumph in the world. Strange! quoth I, debating the matter with myself, That one and twenty miles sailing, for it is absolutely no further from Dover to Calais, should give a man these rights-I'll look into them: so giv ing up the argument-I went straight to my lodging put up half a dozen shirts and a black pair of sik breeches-The coat I have on, said I, looking at the sleeve, will do'-took a place in the Dover stage, and the packet sailing at nine the next morning-by three I had got sat down to my dinner upon a fricasee'd chicken, so incontestably in France, that had I died that night of an indigestion, the whole world could not have suspended the effects of the * Droits d' Aubaine

-my shirts, and black pair of silk breeches-port

All the effects of strangers (Swiss and Scotch excepted) dying in France, are seized by virtue of this law, though the heir be upon the spot-the profit of these contingencies being farmed, there is no redress.

manteau and all must have gone to the king of France-even the little picture which I have so long worn, and so often have told thee Eliza, I would carry with me into my grave, would have been torn from my neck.-Ungenerous!-to seize upon the wreck of an unweary passenger, whom your subjects have beckoned to their coast-By heaven! Sire, it is not well done; and much does it grieve me, 'tis the monarch of a people so civilized and courteous, and so renowned for sentiment and fine feelings, that I have to reason with

But I have scarce set foot in your dominions.

CALAIS.

WHEN I had finished my dinner, and drank the king of France's health, to satisfy my mind that I bor him no spleen, but, on the contrary high honour fo the humanity of his temper-I rose up an inch taller for the accommodation.

-No-said I-the Bourbon is by no means a cruel race they may be misled like other people; but there is a mildness in their blood. As I acknowledged this, I felt a suffusion of a finer kind upon my cheek-more warm and friendly to man, than what Burgundy (at least of two livres a bottle, which was such as I had been drinking) could have produced.

-Just God! said I, kicking my portmanteau aside, what is there in this world's goods which should sharpen our spirits, and make so many kindhearted brethren of us fall out so cruelly, as we do by the way?

When man is at peace with man, how much lighter than a feather is the heaviest of metals in his hand?

He pulls out his purse, and, holding it airily and uncompressed, looks round him, as if he sought for an object to share it with.-In doing this I felt every vessel in my frame dilate-the arteries beat all cheerily together, and every power which sustained life performed it with so little friction, that it would have confounded the most physical precieuse in France: with all her materialism, she could scarce have called me a machine

I'm confident, said I to myself, I should have overset her creed.

The accession of that idea carried nature, at that time, as high as she could go I was at peace with the world before, and this finished the treaty with myself

-Now, was I a king of France, cried I-what a moment for an orphan to have begged his father's portmanteau of me!

THE MONK.

CALAIS.

I HAD scarce uttered these words, when a poor monk of the order of St. Francis came into the room to beg something for his convent. No man cares to have his virtues the sport of contingencies-or one man may be generous, as another man is puissant-sed non quo ad hanc-or be it as it may-for there is no regular reasoning upon the ebbs and flows of our humours; they may depend upon the same causes, for ought I know, which influence the tides themselves-'twould oft' be no discredit to us to suppose it was so; I'm sure at least for myself, that in many a case I should be more highly satisfied to have it said by the world,

'I had had an affair with the moon, in which there was neither sin nor shame,' than have it pass altogether as my own act and deed, wherein there was so much of both.

But be this as it may. The moment I cast my eyes upon him, I was predetermined not to give him a single sous; and accordingly I put my purse into my. pocket-buttoned it up-set myself a little more upon my centre, and advanced up gravely to him: there was something, I fear, forbidding in my look: I have his figure this moment before my eyes, and think there was that in it which deserved better.

The monk, as I judged from the break in his tonsure, a few scattered white hairs upon his temples being all that remained of it, might be about seventy -but from his eyes, and that sort of fire which was in them, which seemed more tempered by courtesy than years, could be no more than sixty-Truth might lie between-He was certainly sixty-five; and the general air of his countenance, notwithstanding something seemed to have been planting wrinkles in it before their time, agreed to the account.

It was one of those heads which Guido has often painted-mild, pale-penetrating, free from all common-place ideas of fat contented ignorance looking downwards upon the earth-it looked forwards; but looked, as if it looked at something beyond this world. How one of his order came by it, Heaven above, who let it fall upon a monk's shoulders, best knows: but it would have suited a Brahmin, and had I met it upon the plains of Indostan I had reverenced it. The rest of his outline may be given in a few strokes; one might put it into the hands of any one