When Maria had come a little to herself, I afked her iffhe remembered a pale thin perfon of a man who had fat down betwixt her and her goat about two years before? She faid, the was unfettled much at that time, but remembered it upon two accounts-that ill as he was, fhe faw the perfon pitied her; and next, that her goat had ftolen his handkerchief, and the had beat him for the theft-fhe had wafh'd it, fhe faid, in the brook, and kept it ever fince in her pocket to restore it to him in cafe the fhould. ever fee him again, which, fhe added, he had half promifed her. As fhe told me this, fhe took the hankerchief 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 tendrilon opening it, I faw an S mark'd in one of the corners.

She ha fince that, he told me, ftray'd as far as Rome, and walk'd round St. Peter's once --and return'd back-that he found her way alone across the Apennines-had travell'd over all Lombardy without money-and through the flinty roads of Savoy without fhoes-how fhe had borne it, and how he had got fupported, fhe could not tell. -but God tempers the wind, faid Maria, TO THE SHORN LAMB.

1

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 fhelter thee?

thou

thou shouldft eat of my own bread, and drink of my own cup-I would be kind to thy Syluip

-in all thy weakneffes and wanderings I would feek after thee and bring thee backwhen the fun went down I would say my prayers and when I had done thou shouldst play thy event ing fong upon thy pipe, nor would the incenfe of my facrifice be worfe accepted for entering heaven along with that of a broken heart. `A

Nature melted within me, as I utter'd this; and Maria obferving, as I took out my handkerchief, that it was steep'd too much already to be of ufe, would needs go wash it, in the streamand where will you dry it, Maria ? faid I.-I will dry it in my bofom, faid the 'twill do me good.

And is your heart ftill fo warm, Maria? faidI.

I touch'd upon the ftring on which hung all her forrows-The look'd with wiftful diforder for fometime in my face; and then, without faying any thing, took her pipe and play'd her fervice to the Virgin-The string I had touch'd ceafed to vibrate-in a moment or two Maria returned to herfelf-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

I

lengthening the ftring, to let the dog follow in that order we entered Moulines.

Though I hate falutations and greetings in the market-place, yet when we got into the middle of this, Iftopp'd to take my last look and laft farewell of Maria.

Maria, though not tall, was nevertheless of the first order of fine forms-affliction had touch'd her looks with something that was scarce earthly till fhe was feminine-and fo much was there about her of all that the heart wifhes, or the eye looks for in a women, that could the traces be ever worn out of her brain, and thofe of Eliza's out of mine, she should not only eat of my bread and drink of my own cup; but Maria fhould 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, now pours into thy wounds-the Being who has twice bruifed thee can only bind them up for ever.

SENT. JOURNEY, PAGE, 217.

SENSIBILITY.

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SENSIBILITY.

D

EAR Senfibility fource inexhaufted of all that's precious in our joys, or coftly in our forrows! thou chaineft thy martyr down upon his bed of ftraw-and 'tis thou who lifts him up to HEAVEN--eternal fountain of our feelings!-'tis here I trace theeand this is thy" divinity which flirs within me”. not, that in fome fad and fickening moments, my foul fhrinks back upon herself, and startles at "deftruction"-mere pomp of words!-but that I feel fome generous joys and generous cares be yond myfelfall comes from thee, greatgreat SENSORIUM of the world! which vibrates, if a hair of our heads but falls upon the ground in the remotest desert of thy creation.-Touch'd with thee, Eugenius draws my curtain when I languifhhears my tale of fymptoms, and blames the weather for the diforder of his nerves. Thou giv'ft a portion of it fometimes to the roughest peasant who traverses the bleakeft. mountains-he finds the lacerated lamb of another's flock-This moment I beheld him leaning with his head against his crook, with piteous inclination looking down upon it !-Oh! had I come one moment fooner it bleeds to death-his gentle heart bleeds with it

Peace to thee, generous fwain !-I fee thon walkeft off with anguish-but thy joys fhall balance it for happy is thy cottage and happy is the tharer of it-and happy are the lambs which fport about you.

SINT. JOUR. P. 226.

A

THE SUPPER.

SHOE coming loofe from the fore-foot of the thill-horfe, at the beginning of the af cent of mount Trurira, the postillion difmounted, twisted the shoe off, and put it in his pocket; as the afcent was of five or fix miles, and. that horfe our main dependence, I made a point of having the fhoe faftened on again, as well as we could; but the postillion had thrown away the nails, and the hammer in the chaifebox, be ing of no great use without them, I fubmitted to,

go on.

He had not mounted half a mile higher, when coming to a flinty piece of road, the poor devil loft a fecond fhoe, and from off his other forefoot, I then got out of the chaife in good earneft; and feeing a house about a quarter of a mile to the left-hand, with a great deal to do, I prevailed