me fee it: fhe had folded it up neatly in a couple of vine leaves, tied round with a tendril-on opening it, I saw an S marked in one of the corner. SHE had fince that, she told me, ftrayed as far as Rome, and walked round St. Peter's once—and returned back—that the found her way alone across the Apennines-had travelled over all Lombardy without money-and through the flinty roads of Savoy without fhoes: how he had borne it, and how she had got fupported, fhe could not tell-but God tempers the wind, faid Maria, to the fhorn lamb. SHORN indeed! and to the quick, faid I; and waft thou in my own land, where I have a cottage, I would take thee to it and shelter thee; thou shouldft eat of my own bread, and drink of my own cup-I would be kind to thy Sylvio— in all thy weakness and wanderings I would feek after thee, and bring thee back-when the fun went down I would fay my prayers, and when I had done, thou fhouldft play thy evening fong upon thy pipe; nor would the incenfe of my facrifice be worse accepted, for entering heaven along with that of a broken heart. NATURE melted within me, as I uttered this; and Maria observing, as I took out my handkerchief, that it was steeped too much already to be of use, would needs go wash it in the ftream-And where will you dry it, Maria? faid 1-I will dry it in my bofom, faid fhe-it will do me good. AND is your heart ftill so warm, Maria? faid L. I TOUCHED upon the string on which hung all her forrows -she lookeft with wistful disorder for some time in my face; and then, without faying any thing, took her pipe, and played her service to the Virgin-The string I had touched ceased to vibrate-in a moment or two Maria returned to herselflet her pipe fall-and rofe up. AND AND where are you going, Maria? faid I,-She faid, to Moulines. Let us go, faid I, together.-Maria put her arm within mine, and lengthening the ftring to let the dog follow -in that order we entered Moulines. THOUGH I hate falutations and greetings in the marketplace, yet when we got into the middle of this, I ftooped to take my laft look and laft farewel of Maria. MARIA, though not tall, was neverthelefs of the firft order of fine forms-affliction had touched her looks with fomething that was fcarce earthly-ftill fhe was feminine :and fo much was there about her of all that the heart wishes, or the eye looks for in woman, that could the traces be ever worn out of her brain, and those of Eliza's out of mine, she fhould not only eat of my bread and drink of my own cup, but Maria should lie in my bofom, and be unto me as a daughter. ADIEU, poor lucklefs maiden !-imbibe the oil and wine which the compaffion of a stranger, as he journieth on his way, now pours into thy wounds-the Being who has twice bruised thee can only bind them up for ever. STERNE. XII. OFT CHAP. THE CAMELION. FT it has been my lot to mark Returning Returning from his finished tour, The travell'd fool your mouth will stop } Two travellers of fuch a caft, As o'er Arabia's wilds they past, And on their way in friendly chat Now talk'd of this, and then of that, Difcours'd awhile, 'mongst other matter, Of the Camelion's form and nature. "A ftranger animal," cries one, "Sure never liv'd beneath the fun : "A lizard's body lean and long, "A fifh's head, a ferpent's tongue, "Its tooth, with triple claw disjoin'd; "And what a length of tail behind! "How flow its pace ! and then its hue"Who ever faw fo fine a blue ?” "Hold there," the other quick replies, "'Tis green-I faw it with these eyes, "As late with open mouth it lay, "And warm'd it in the funny ray; "Streach'd at its ease the beast I view'd, "And faw it eat the air for food." ""Tis green, 'tis green, Sir, I affure ye"Green!" cries the other, in a fury"Why, Sir-d'ye think I've loft my eyes?" "Twere no great lofs," the friend replies, "For if they always ferve you thus, "You'll find 'em but of little ufe." So high at last the conteft rofe, From words they almoft came to blows: When luckily came by a third; To him the queftion they referr'd ; And begg'd he'd tell 'em, if he knew, Whether the thing was green or blue. "Sirs," cries the umpire," ceafe your pother"The creature's neither one nor t'other. "I caught the animal last night, "And view'd it o'er by candle-light : "When "When next you talk of what you view, "Think others fee as well as you : Nor wonder, if you find that none "Prefers your eye-fight to his own."> MERRICK CHA P. XIII. THE YOUTH AND THE PHILOSOPHER. A GRECIAN Youth, of talents rare, Whom Plato's philofophic care Had form'd for Virtue's nobler view, Would often boaft his matchless skill, To curb the steed, and guide the wheel. Was praise and transport to his breaft. At length quite vain, he needs would fhew His mafter what his art could do ; And bade his flaves the chariot lead The trembling grove confefs'd its fright, Howe'er, the youth, with forward air, And |