the affected leer of the one, and strange appearance of the other; owing to the attitude of the head, which is a proof of the artist's, or your friend's falfe tafte. The ***'s who verify the character I once gave of teazing, or flicking like pitch, or birdlime, fent a card that they would wait on Mrs. **** on Friday.-She sent back, she was engaged-Then to meet at Ranelagh to-night. She answered, fhe did not go.She says, if he allows the least footing, she never shall get rid of the acquaintance; which fhe is refolved to drop at once. She knows they are not her friends, nor yours; and the first use they would make of being with her would be to facrifice you to her (if they could) a fecond time. Let her not then (let her not, my dear) be a greater friend to thee, than thou art to thyself. She begs I will reiterate my requeft to you, that you will not write to them. It will give her, and thy Bramin, inexpreffible pain. Be affured, all this is not without reafon on her fide. I have my reasons too; the first of which is, that I fhould grieve to excess, if Eliza wanted that fortitude her Yorick has built fo high upon. I faid I never more would mention the name to thee; and had I not received it, as a kind of charge from a dear woman that loves you, I should not have broke my word. I will write again to-morrow to thee, thou best and most endearing of girls! A› peaceful night to thee. My fpirit will be with thee through every watch of it.

Adieu.

TO THE SAME.

MY DEAREST ELIZA!

OH!

H! I grieve for your cabin.—And the fresh painting will be enough to destroy every nerve about thee. Nothing fo pernicious as white lead. Take care of yourself, dear girl; and fleep not in it too foon. It will be enough to give you a stroke of an epilepfy. I hope you will have left the fhip: and that my letters may meet, and greet you, as you get out of your poft-chaise, at Deal.-When you have got them all, put them, my dear, into fome order.— The first eight or nine are numbered: but I wrote the reft without that direction to thee; but, that wilt find them out, by the day or hour, which, I hope, I have generally prefixed to them. When they are got together in chronological order, few them together in a cover. I trust they will be a perpetual refuge to thee, from time to time; and that thou wilt (when weary of fools, and uninteresting difcourfe) retire, and converse an hour with them, and me.

I have not had power, or the heart, to aim at enlivening any one of them with a single stroke of wit or humour; but they contain fomething better; and what you will feel more fuited to your fituation-a long detail of much advice, truth, and knowledge. I hope, too, you will perceive loose touches of an honest heart, to every one of them; which speak more than the moft ftudied periods; and will give thee more ground of trust and confidence upon Yo

rick, than all that laboured eloquence could fupply. Lean then thy whole weight, Eliza, upon them and upon me. "May poverty, distress, anguish, and fhame, be my portion, if ever I give thee reafon to repent the knowledge of me!"With this affever- . ation, made in the prefence of a juft God, I pray to him, that fo it may speed me, as I deal candidly and honourably with thee! I would not mislead thee, Eliza; I would not injure thee, in the opinion of a fingle individual, for the richeft crown the proudest monarch wears.

Remember, that while I haye life and power, whatever is mine, you may ftyle and think yoursThough forry fhould I be, if ever my friendship was put to the teft thus, for your own delicacy's fake.Money and counters are of equal use in my opinion; they both serve to fet up with.

I hope you will anfwer me this letter; but if thou art debarred by the elements which hurry thee away, I will write one for thee; and knowing it is such a one as thou would'st have written, I will regard it as my Eliza's.

Honour, and happiness, and health, and comforts of every kind, fail along with thee, thou most worthy of girls! I will live for thee, and my Lydia-be rich for the children of my heart-gain wifdom, gain fame, and happiness, to fhare with them-with theeand her in my old age.-Once for all, adieu. Preferve thy life; steadily purfue the ends we propofed;

and let nothing rob thee of those powers Heaven has given thee for thy well-being.

What can I add more, in the agitation of mind I am in, and within five minutes of the laft poftman's bell, but recommend thee to Heaven, and recommend myfelf to Heaven with thee, in the fame fervent ejaculation, "that we may be happy, and meet again: if not in this world, in the next."-Adieu.—I am thine, Eliza, affectionately, and everlastingly.

YORICK.

THE PRECEPTOR.

You fee is high time, faid my father, addreffing

himself equally to my uncle Toby and Yorick, to take this young creature out of these women's hands, and put him into those of a private governor.

Now as I confider the person who is to be about my fon, as the mirror in which he is to view himfelf from morning to night, and by which he is to adjust his looks, his carriage, and perhaps the inmoft fentiments of his heart;-I would have one, Yorick, if poffible, polifhed at all points, fit for my child to look into.

There is, continued my father, a certain mien and motion of the body and all its parts, both in acting. and speaking, which argues a man well within. There are a thousand unnoticed openings, continued my father, which let a penetrating eye at once into a

man's foul; and I maintain it, added he, that a man of fenfe does not lay down his hat in coming into a room, or take it up in going out of it, but fomething efcapes, which discovers him.

I will have him, continued my father, cheerfu1, faceté, jovial; at the fame time, prudent, attentive to business, vigilant, acute, argute, inventive, quick in refolving doubts and fpeculative questions:-he fhall be wife, and judicious, and learned:-And why not humble, and moderate, and gentle tempered, and good? faid Yorick :-And why not, cried my uncle Toby, free, and generous, and bountiful, and brave?-He fhall, my dear Toby, cried my father, getting up and shaking him by his hand.Then, brother Shandy, answered my uncle Toby, raifing himself off the chair, and laying down his pipe to take hold of my father's other hand—I humbly beg I may recommend poor Le Fevre's fon to you; a tear of joy of the first water fparkled in my uncle Toby's eye, and another, the fellow to it, in the Corporal's, as the propofition was made;-you will fee why, when you read Le Fevre's story.

IT

THE STORY OF LE FEVRE.

T was fome time in the fummer of that year.ir which Dendermond was taken by the Allies; when my uncle Toby was one evening getting his fupper, with Trim, fitting behind him at a fmall fideboard, I fay fitting-for in confideration of the Corporal's,