away as they fell, with my handkerchief. I then steeped it in my own and then in hers-and then in mine-and then I wiped hers again-and as I did it, I felt fuch undefcribable emotions within me, as I am fure could not be accounted for from any combinations of matter and motion.

1 AM pofitive I have a foul; nor can all the books with which materialists have peftered the world ever convince me of the contrary.

WHEN Maria had come a little to herself, I asked her if fhe remembered a pale thin person of a man who had fat down betwixt her and her goat about two years before? She said, she was unsettled much at that time, but remembered it upon two accounts-that ill as she was, she saw the perfon pitied her; and next, that her goat had stolen his handkerchief, and the had beat him for the theft-she had washed it, fhe faid, in the brook, and kept it ever fince in her pocket, to reftore it to him in cafe she should ever fee him again, which, fhe added, he had half promised her. As she told me this, he took the handkerchief out of her pocket to let me fee it fhe had folded it up neatly in a couple of vine leaves, tied round with a tendril—on opening it, I faw an S marked in one of the corners.

:

SHE had fince that, she told me, ftrayed as far as Rome, and walked round St. Peter's once- -and returned backthat the found her way alone across the Apennines-had travelled over all Lombardy without money-and through the flinty roads of Savoy without shoes: how she had borne it, and how she had got fupported, she could not tell—but God tempers the wind, faid Maria, to the fhorn lamb.

SHORN indeed! and to the quick, faid 1; and waft thou in my own land, where I have a cottage, I would take thee to it and fhelter thee; thou fhouldft eat of my own bread, and drink of my own cup-I would be kind to thy Sylvio-in all thy weaknesses and wanderings I would seek

after

after thee, and bring thee back-when the fun went down I would fay my prayers, and when I had done, thou fhouldft play the 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 obferving, as I took out my handkerchief, that it was fteeped too much already to be of use, would needs go wash it in the stream-And where will you dry it, Maria? said I—I will dry it in my bofom, faid fhe-it will do me good. AND is your heart still so warm, Maria? faid I.

I TOUCHED upon the ftring on which hung all her forrows-fhe looked with wistful diforder for fome time in my face; and then, without faying any thing, took her pipe, and played her service to the Virgin-The firing I had touched ceased to vibrate-in a moment or two Maria returned to herself-let her pipe fall-and rofe up.

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 stopped to take my last look and last farewell of Maria.

MARIA, though not tall, was nevertheless of the first 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 eyes look for in woman, that could the traces be ever worn out of her brain, and those of Eliza's out of mine, she should 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 journeyeth on his

way,

way, now pours into thy wounds-the Being who has twice bruised thee can only bind them up for ever.

STERNE.

CHAP. XII.

THE CAMELION.

OFT has it been my lot to mark
A proud, conceited, talking fpark,
With eyes, that hardly ferv'd at most
To guard their mafter 'gainft a poft:
Yet round the world the blade has been
To fee whatever could be feen.
Returning from his finifh'd tour,
Grown ten times perter than before,
Whatever word you chance to drop,
The travell'd fool your mouth will stop;

"

Sir, if my judgment you'll allow

"I've seen-and fure I ought to know",
So begs you'd pay a due fubmiffion,
And acquiefce in his decifion,

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 stranger 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,
"It's 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

"Hold there," the other quick replies, " 'Tis green-I saw it with these eyes, "As late with open mouth it lay, "And warm'd it in the funny ray; "Stretch'd at its ease the beaft I view'd, "And faw it eat the air for food." "I've seen it, Sir, as well as you, "And must again affirm it blue ; "At leifure I the beaft furvey'd "Extended in the cooling fhade.”

"'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 almost 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:
"I mark'd it well-'twas black as jet-
"You stare-but, Sirs, I've got it yet,
"And can produce it." "Pray, Sir, do:
"I'll lay my life the thing is blue."
"And I'll be fworn that when you've seen
"The reptile, you'll pronounce him green."
"Well then, at once to eafe the doubt,"
Replies the
man, I'll turn him out:

"And

"And when before your eyes I've fet him,
"If you don't find him black, I'll eat him."
He faid; then full before their fight
Produc'd the beast, and lo!—'twas white.
Both ftared, the man look'd wond'rous wife-
My children," the Camelion cries,

(Then firft the creature found a tongue)

You all are right, and all are wrong: "When next you talk of what you view, "Think others fee as well as you :

"Nor wonder, if you find that none

Had form'd for Virtue's nobler view,

By precepts and example too,

Would often boast his matchless skill,

To curb the steed, and guide the wheel;
And as he pafs'd the gazing throng,
With graceful cafe, and fmack'd the thong,
The idiot wonder they exprefs'd

Was praise and tranfport to his breast.

At length, quite vain, he needs would fhew

His mafter what his art could do;

And bade his flaves the chariot lead
To Academus' facred fhade.

The trembling grove confefs'd its fright,
The wood-nymphs ftarted at the fight;
The Mufes drop the learned lyre,
And to their inmost shades retire.

Howe'er