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the fame resolution with the abbeffe of Andouillets) I'll not go a step further'Tis very well, Sir, faid 1-I never will argue a point with one of your family, as long as I live; fo leaping off his back, and kicking off one boot into this ditch, and t'other into that-I'll take a dance, faid Ifo stay you here.
A sun-burnt daughter of labour rose up from the group to meet me, as I advanced towards them; her hair, which was a dark chestnut, approaching rather to a black, was tied up in a knot, all but a fingle tress.
We want a cavalier, said she, holding out both her hands, as if to offer them-And a cavalier ye shall have, said I, taking hold of both of them.
Hadst thou, Nannette, heen array'd like a duchesse !
We could not have done without you, said the, letting go one hand, with self-taught politeness, leading me up with the other.
A lame youth, whom Apollo had recompensed with a pipe, and to which he had added a tabourin of his own accord, ran sweetly over the prelude, as he fat upon the bank-Tie me up this tress instantly, said Nannette, putting a piece of string into my hand-It taught me to forget I was a stranger - The whole knot fell down-We had been seven years acquainted.
The youth struck the note upon the tabourin his pipe followed, and off we bounded the deuce take that fit 113
The fifter of the youth, who had stolen her voice from heaven, sung alternately with her brother 'twas a Gascoigne roundeiay.
VIVA LA JOIA!!
FIDON LA TRISTESSA ! The nymphs joined in unison, and their swains an octave below them
I would have given a crown to have it few'd upNannette would not have given a sous-Viva la joia ! was in her lips-Viva la joia? was in her eyes. A transient spark of amity shot across the space betwixt us-She look'd amiable ! -Why could I not live, and end iny days thus! Just Difpofer of our joys and forrows, cried I, why could not a man sit down in the lap of content here-and dance, and fing, and say his prayers, and go
to heaven with this nut-brown maid? Ca.. priciously did fhe bend her head on one side, and dance up insidious-Then 'tis time to dance off, quoth I ! so changing only partners and tunes, 1 danced it away from Lunel to Montpellier-from thence to Pesonas, BeziersIdanced it along through Narbonne, Carcasson, and Calle Naudairy, till at last I danced myself into Perdrillo's pavilion.
T. SHANDY. VOL. IV, CHAP. 24.
mad.- What will it do then to a tender and inge'. nuous heart, which fells itself neglected, -too full of reverence for the author of its wrongs to complain ?See, it fits down in filence, robbed by discouragements, of all its natural powers to please, --born to see others loaded with caresses in some uncheery corner it nourishes its discontent, and with a weight upon its spirits, which its little stock of fortitude is not able to with. fland, --it droops and pines away.Sad victim of caprice!
SERMON XXII. P. 136.
VIRTUE AND VICE.
HOEVER considers the state and condition of
nature, and upon this view, how much stronger the natural motives are to virtue than to vice, would expect to find the world much better than it is, or ever has been ;--for who would suppose the generality of mankind to betray so much folly, as to act against the common interest of their own kind, as every man does who yields to the temptation of what is wrong?
SERMON XXXIII. P. 61,
THERE is no project to which the whole race of
mankind is so univerfally a bubble, as to that of being thought wife: and the affectation of it is fo visible, in men of all complexions, that you every day see some one or other so very solicitous to establish the character, as not to allow himself leisure to do the things which fairly win it :--expending more art and stratagem to appear so in the eyes of the world, than what would suffice to make him so in truth.
It is owing to the force of this desire, that you see in general there is no injury touches a man so sensibly, insult upon
and capacity : teil a man of other defects, that he wants learning, industry or application,-he will hear your reproof with patience.
Nay, you may go farther; take him in a proper season, you may tax his morals, you may tell him he is irregular in his conduct-passionate or revenge ful in his nature ---loose in his principles ;-deliver it with the gentleness of a friend, possibly he'll not only bear with you,-but, if ingenuous, he will thank you for your lecture, and promise a reformation : but hint-hint but a defect in his intellectuals--touch but that sore place, froin that moment you are look'd upon as an enemy sent to torment him before his time, and in return may
upon his resentment and illwill for ever : so that in general you will find it safer
to tell a man he is a knave than a fool, and stand a better chance of being forgiven, for proving he has been wanting in a point of common honesty, than a point of common sense: Strange souls that weare ! as if to live well was not the greatest argument of wisdom; and, as if what reflected upon our morals, did not most of all reflect upon our underStandings!
SERM. XXVI. P. 207.
REFLECTIONS ON DEATH.
Y young master in London is dead ! said Obadiah.
Agreen satin night-gown of my mother's, which had been twice scowered, was the first idea which Obadiah's exclamation brought into Susannah's head. Then, quoth Susannah, we must all go into mourning -Oh! 'twill be the death of my poor mistress, cried Susannab.
My mother's whole wardrobe followed: What a proceffion! her red damask,-her orange tawny, her white and yellow lustrings,- her brown taffety,her bone-laced caps, her bed-gowns-and comfortable under-petticoats.-Not a rag was left behind.-No, The will never look up again, said Sufannah.