Grieve not, gentle traveller, to let Madam de Rambouliet p-ss on-And, ye fair mystic nymphs! go each one pluck your rose, and scatter them in your path-for Madam de Rambouliet did no more -I handed Madam de Rambouliet out of the coach; and had I been the priest of the chaste CASTALIA, I could not have served at her fountain with a more respectful decorum.

SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY,

&c. &c.

THE FILLE DE CHAMBRE.

PARIS.

WHAT the oid French officer had delivered upon travelling, bringing Polonius's advice to his son, upon the same subject, into my head—and that bringing in Hamlet; and Hamlet the rest of Shakespear's works, I stopped at the Quai de Conti in my return home, to purchase the whole set.

The bookseller said he had not a set in the world -Comment! said I; taking one up out of a set which lay upon the counter betwixt us.-He said, they were sent him only to be got bound, and were to be sent back to Versailles in the morning to the Count de B ****.

-And does the Count de B * * * *, said I, read Shakespear? C'est un esprit fort, replied the bookseller. He loves English books; and what is more

I

to his honour, Monsieur, he loves the English too. You speak this so civilly, said I, that 'tis enough to oblige an Englishman to lay out a louisd'or or two at your shop-The bookseller made a bow, and was going to say something, when a young decent girl of about twenty, who by her air and dress seemed to be fille de chambre to some devout woman of fashion, came into the shop and asked for Les Egaremens du Cœur et de l'Esprit: the bookseller gave her the book directly; she pulled out a little green satin purse, run round with a ribband of the same colour, and putting her finger and thumb into it, she took out the money, and paid for it. As I had nothing more to stay me in the shop, we both walked out at the door together.

-And what have you to do, my dear, said I, with The Wanderings of the Heart, who scarce know yet you have one? nor till love has first told you it, or some faithless shepherd has made it ache, canst thou ever be sure it is so.-Le Dieu m'en garde! said the girl. With reason, said I-for if it is a good one, 'tis pity it should be stolen: 'tis a little treasure to thee, and gives a better air to your face, than if it was dressed out with pearls.

The young girl listened with a submissive attention, holding her satin purse by its ribband in her hand all the time-Tis a very small one, said I, taking hold of the bottom of it she held it towards me-and there is very little in it, my dear, said I; but be but as good as thou art handsome, and

heaven will fill it: I had a parcel of crowns in my hand to pay for Shakespear; and as she had let go the purse entirely, I put a single one in; and tying up the ribband in a bow-knot, returned it to her.

The young girl made me more a humble courtesy than a low one'twas one of those quiet, thankful sinkings, where the spirit bows itself down-the body does no more than tell it. I never gave a girl a crown in my life which gave me half the pleasure. My advice, my dear, would not have been worth a pin to you, said I, if I had not given this along with it but now, when you see the crown, you'll remember it-so don't, my dear, lay it out in ribbands.

Upon my word, Sir, said the girl, earnestly, I am incapable-in saying which, as is usual in little bargains of honour, she gave me her hand-En verite, Monsieur, je mettrai cet argent apart, said she.

When a virtuous convention is made betwixt man and woman, it sanctifies their most private walks : so, notwithstanding it was dusky, yet as both our roads lay the same way, we made no scruple of walking along the Quai de Conti together.

She made me a second courtesy in setting off, and before we got twenty yards from the door, as if she had not done enough before, she made a sort of a little stop to tell me again-she thanked me.

It was a small tribute, I told her, which I could not avoid paying to virtue, and would not be mis

taken in the person I had been rendering it to for the world-but I see innocence, my dear, in your face and foul befal the man who ever lays a snare in its way!

The girl seemed affected, some way or other, with what I said she gave a low sigh-I found I was not empowered to inquire at all after it-so said nothing more till I got to the corner of the Rue de Nevers, where we were to part.

-But is this the way, my dear, said I, to the hotel de Modene? She told me it was-or, that I might go by the Rue de Gueneguault, which was the next turn. Then I'll go, my dear, by the Rue de Gueneguault, said I, for two reasons; first, I shall please myself, and, next, I shall give you the protection of my company as far on your way as I can. The girl was sensible I was civil-and said, she wished the hotel de Modene was in the Rue de St. PierreYou live there? said I.-She told me she was fille de chambre to Madam R * * * *—Good God! said I, 'tis the very lady for whom I have brought a letter from Amiens-The girl told me that Madam R****, she believed, expected a stranger with a letter, and was impatient to see him-so I desired the girl to present my compliments to Madam R ****, and say I would certainly wait upon her in the morning.

We stood still at the corner of the Rue de Nevers whilst this passed-We then stopped a moment whilst she disposed of her Egaremens de Cœur, &c.