I

CALAIS

PERCEIVED that something darken'd the passage more than myself, as I stepp`d along it to my room; it was effectually Mons. Dessein, the master of the hôtel, 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 way suit me, it immediately struck my fancy that it belong'd 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 vampt-up 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 it—but 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 hôtel, said I, laying the point of my fore-finger 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 Englishman 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 walk'd together towards his Remise, to take a view of his magazine of chaises.

IT

IN THE STREET

CALAIS

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 terminate the difference betwixt them, but he instantly falls into the same frame of mind, and views his conventionist with the same sort of eye, as if he was going along with him to Hyde-park-corner to fight a duel. For my own part, being but a poor swordsman, and no way a match for Monsieur Dessein, I felt the rotation of all the movements within me, to which the situation is incident—I looked at Monsieur Dessein through and through-eyed him as he walk'd along in profile- -then, en facethought he look'd like a Jew—then a Turk—disliked his wig—cursed him by my gods—wished him at the devil

And is all this to be lighted up in the

heart for a beggarly account of three or four louis d'ors, which is the most I can be over-reach'd in? -Base passion! said I, turning myself about, as a man naturally does upon a sudden reverse of sentiment-base ungentle passion! thy hand is against every man, and every man's hand against thee

Heaven forbid! said she, raising her hand up to her forehead, for I had turned full in front upon the lady whom I had seen in conference with the monk-she had followed us unperceived-Heaven forbid, indeed! said I, offering her my ownshe had a black pair of silk gloves, open only at the thumb and two forefingers, so accepted it without reserve and I led her up to the door of the Remise.

Monsieur Dessein had diabled the key above fifty times, before he found out he had come with a wrong one in his hand we were as impatient as himself to have it open'd; and so attentive to the obstacle, that I continued holding her hand almost without knowing it so that Monsieur Dessein left us together, with her hand in mine, and with our faces turned towards the door of the Remise, and said he would be back in five minutes.

Now a colloquy of five minutes, in such a situation, is worth one of as many ages, with your faces turned towards the street: in the latter

A

case, 'tis drawn from the objects and occurrences without-when your eyes are fixed upon a dead blank you draw purely from yourselves. silence of a single moment upon Mons. Dessein's leaving us, had been fatal to the situation-she had infallibly turned about—so I begun the conversation instantly

-But what were the temptations (as I write not to apologise for the weaknesses of my heart in this tour, but to give an account of them)—shall be described with the same simplicity, with which I felt them.

W

THE REMISE DOOR

CALAIS

HEN I told the reader that I did not care to get out of the Desobligeant, because I saw the monk in close conference with a lady just arrived at the inn—I told him the whole truth'; for I was full as much restrained by the appearance and figure of the lady he was talking to. Suspicion crossed my brain, and said, he was telling her what had passed; something jarred upon it within me—I wished him at his convent.

When the heart flies out before the under