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Yorick scarce ever heard the fad vaticination of his destiny read over to him, but with a tear stealing from his eye, and a promiffory look attending it, that he was resolved, for the time to come, to ride his tit with more fobriety.But, alas, too late !-a grand confederacy, with ***** and ***** at the head of it, was formed before the firft predi&tion of it.-Thé whole plan of the attack, just as Eugenius had foreboded, was put in execution all at once with so little mercy on the side of the allies--and so little suspicion in Yorick of what was carrying on against him, that when he thought, good easy man! full surely preferment was o' ripening they had (mote his root, and then he fell, as many a worthy man had fallen before him. - Yorick, however, fought it out with all imaginable gallantry for some time ; till, overpowered by num: bers, and worn out at length by the calamities of the war,--but more fo, by the ungenerous manner in which it was carried on--he threw down the sword; and though he kept up his fpirits in appearance to the laft, he died, nevertheless, as was generally thought, quite broken-hearted. : What inclined Eugenius to the fame opinion, was as follows:

A few hours before Yorick breathed his last, Eu-, genius stept in with an intent to take his last fight and farewel of him. Upon his drawing Yorick's curtain, and asking how he felt himself, Yerick looked up in his face, took hold of his hand, and after thanking

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him for the many tokens of his friendship to him, for which, he faid, if it was their fate to meet hereafter,

- he would thank him again and again,-he told him, he was within a few hours of giving his enemies the Bip for ever. I hope not, answered Eugenius, with tears tricking down his cheek, and with the tenderest tone that ever man spoke, “I hope not Yorick, faid he.-Yorick replied with a louk up, and a gentle fqueeze of Eugenius's hand, and that was all, but it cut Eugenius to the heart.--come-come, Yorick, quoth Eugenius, wiping his eyes, and summoning up the man within him, my dear lad, be comforted, let not all thy spirits and fortitude forsake thee at this crisis when thou most wants them ;-who'knows what resources are in store, and what the power of God may yet do for thee ?-Yorick laid his hand upon his heart, and gently fhook his head ;-For my part, cried Eugenius, crying bitterly as he uttered the words--I declare I know not, Yorick, how to part with thee, and would gladly flätter my hopes, added Eugenius, cheering up his voice, that there is still enough left of thee to make a bishop, and that I may live to fee it. I beseech thee, Eugenius, quotlı Yorick, taking off his night.cap as well as he could with his left band,-his right hand being still grasped close in that of Eugenius-I beseech thee to take a view of my head. I see nothing that ails it, replied Eugenius. Then, alas ! my friend, faid Yorick, let me tell you, that 'tis fo bruised and mis-Mapened with the blows whicl***** and *****, and some others

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have so unhandsomely given me in the dark, that I might say with Sanco Panca, that fhould I recover, and “ Mitres thereupon be suffered to rain down “ from heaven as thick as hail, not one of them " would fit it."-Yorick's last breath was hanging upon his trembling lips ready to depart as he uttered this;- yet still it was uttered with something of a Cervantic tone ; and as he spoke it, Eugenius could perceive a stream of lambent fire lighted up for a moment in his eyes ;

-faint picture of those flashes of his spirit, which (as Shakspeare said of his ancestor) were wont to set the table in a roar !

Eugenius was convinced from this, that the heart of his friend was broke: he fqueezed his hand, and then walked foftly 'oạt of the room, weeping as he walked. Yorick followed Eugenius with his eyes to the door, he then closed them, and never opened them more.

He lies buried in the corner of his church-yard, in the parish of under a plain marble flab, which his friend Eugenius, by leave of his executors, Laid upon

his grave, with no more than these words of inscription, serving both for his epitaph and elegy,

Alas, poor YORICK!

Ten times a day has Yorick's ghost the consolation to hear the monumental inscription read over with such a variety of plaintive tones, as denote a general

pity and efteem for him ;a footway croffing the church-yard close by the fide of his grave, not a passenger goes by without stopping to cake a look upon ity-and fighing as he walks on,

Alas, poor YORICK!

T. SHANDY, VOL. I. C. 12.

POWER OF SLIGHT INCIDENTS.

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is curious to observe the triumph of flight

incidents over the mind ;--- and what incredible weight they have in forming and governing our opinions, both of men and things—that trifles light as air, shall waft a belief into the soul, and plant it fo immoveable within it, that Euclid's demonstrations, could they be brought to batter it in breach, should not all have power to overthrow it.

T. SHANDY, vol. 11. CHAP. 62.

CROSSES IN LIFE.

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ANY, many are the ups and downs of life,

fortune must be uncommonly gracious to that mortal who does not experience a great variety of them ;-though perhaps to these may be owing as much of our pleasures-as our pains; there are scenes of delight in the vale as well as in the mountain; and the inequalities of nature may not be less necessary to please the eye-than the varieties of life to improve the heart. At best, we are but a short-fighted race of beings, with just light enough to discern our way. To do that is our duty, and should be our

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