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he came up to us, with a world of frankness: and having a horn snuff-box in his hand, he presented it open to me-You shall taste mine said I, pulling out my box (which was a small tortoise one) and putting it into his hand-'Tis most excellent, said the monk; Then do me the favour, I replied, to accept of the box and all, and when you take a pinch out of it, sometimes recollect it was the peace-offering of a man who once used you unkindly, but not from his heart.

The poor monk blush'd as red as scarlet. Mon Dieu ! said he, pressing his hands together— you never used me unkindly. I should think, said the lady, he is not likely. I blush'd in my turn; but from what movements I leave to the few who feel to analyse-Excuse me, Madame, replied I—I treated him most unkindly, and from no provocations. 'Tis impossible, said the lady-My God! cried the monk, with a warmth of asseveration which seem'd not to belong to him-the fault was in me, and in the indiscretion of my zeal-The lady opposed it, and I joined with her in maintaining it was impossible, that a spirit so regulated as his, could give offence to any.

I knew not that contention could be rendered so sweet and pleasurable a thing to the nerves as I then felt it. We remained silent without any sensation of that foolish pain which takes place, when in such a circle you look for ten minutes in one another's faces without saying a word. Whilst this lasted, the monk rubb'd his horn box upon the sleeve of his tunick; and as soon as it had acquired a little air of brightness by the friction-he made a low bow, and said, 'twas too late to say whether it was the weakness or goodness of our tempers which had involved us in this contest-But be it as it would-he begg'd we might exchange boxes-In saying this, he presented his to me with one hand, as he took mine from me in the other; and having kissed itwith a stream of good-nature in his eyes he put it into his bosom and took his leave.

I guard this box, as I would the instrumental parts of my religion, to help my mind on to something better: in truth, I seldom go abroad without it: and oft and many a time have I called up by it the courteous spirit of its owner to regulate my own, in the justlings of the world; they had found full employment for his, as I learnt from his story, till about the forty-fifth year of his age, when upon some military services ill requited, and meeting at the same time with a disappointment in the tenderest of passions, he abandoned the sword and the sex together, and took sanctuary, not so much in his convent as in himself.

I feel a damp upon my spirits, as I am going to add, that in my last return through Calais, upon inquiring after Father Lorenzo, I heard he had been dead near three months, and was buried, not in his convent, but, according to his desire, in a little cemetery belonging to it, about two leagues off: I had a strong desire to see where they had laid him -when upon pulling out his little horn box, as I sat by his grave, and plucking up a nettle or two at the head of it, which had no business to grow there, they all struck together so forcibly upon my affections, that I burst into a flood of tears but I am as weak as a woman; and I beg the world not to smile, but pity me.

I

THE REMISE DOOR

CALAIS

HAD never quitted the lady's hand all this time; and had held it so long, that it would

have been indecent to have let it go, without first pressing it to my lips: the blood and spirits, which had suffered a revulsion from her, crowded back to her, as I did it.

Now the two travellers, who had spoke to me in the coach-yard, happened at that crisis to be passing by, and observing our communications, naturally took it into their heads that we must be man and wife, at least; so stopping as soon as they came up to the door of the Remise, the one of them, who was the inquisitive Traveller, ask'd us, if we set out for Paris the next morning ?-I could only answer for myself, I said ; and the lady added, she was for Amiens-We dined there yesterday, said the simple Traveller-You go directly through the town, added the other, in your road to Paris. I was going to return a thousand thanks for the intelligence, that Amiens was in the road to Paris; but upon pulling out my poor monk's little horn box to take a pinch of snuff, I made them a quiet bow, and wished them a good passage to Dover they left us

alone

-Now where would be the harm, said I to myself, if I was to beg of this distressed lady to accept of half of my chaise ?-and what mighty mischief could ensue ?

Every dirty passion, and bad propensity in my nature, took the alarm, as I stated the proposition -It will oblige you to have a third horse, said AVARICE, which will put twenty livres out of your pocket-You know not what she is, said CAUTION— or what scrapes the affair may draw you into, whisper'd COWARDICE

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