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 the ftring, to let the dog follow in that or der we entered Moulines..

MARIA

M A R. I. A.

M O U L. I. NE S.

HO' I late falutations and greet

ings in the market places, yet when. we got into the middle of this, I ftopped. to take my laft look and laft farewel of. Maria.

MARIA, though not tall, was neverthelefs of the first order of fine formsaffliction had touched her looks with. fomething that was fcarcely earthlyftill fhe was feminine-and fo much was. there about her of all that the heart. withes, or the eye looks for in woman, that could the traces be ever worn out of her brain, and thofe of Eliza's out of mine, the fhould not only eat of my bread.

and

and drink of my own cup, but Maria should. lie in my bofom, and be unto me as a daughter.

ADIEU, poor luckless 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..

THE

THE BOURBONNOIS.

T

HERE was nothing from which I had painted out for myself so joyous a riot of the affections, as in this journey in the vintage, through this part of France; but preffing through this gate of forrow to it, my fufferings has totally unfitted me in every fcene of festivity I faw Maria in the back ground of the piece,, fitting penfive under her poplar; and I had got almost to Lyons before I was able to caft a fhade across her.

DEAR SENSIBILITY! fource in-、 exhausted 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 thee-and this is thy divinity which stirs within me-not

that

that in fome fad and fickening moments, "my foul brinks back upon herself, and fartles at deftruction"-mere pomp of words! -but that I feel fome generous joys and generous cares beyond myself-all comes from thee, great-great SENSORIUM of the world! which vibrates, if a hair of our heads but falls upon the ground, in the remoteft defert of thy creation.Touched with thee, Eugenius draws my curtain when I languish-hears my tale of symptoms, and blames the weather for the diforder of his nerves. Thou givest a portion of it fometimes to the roughest peafant who traverfes the bleakeft mountains-he finds the lacerated lambs of another's flock-This moment I beheld: him leaning with his head against his crook, with piteous inclination locking down upon it-Oh! had I come one mo-ment fooner!- It bleeds to death-his

gentle heart bleeds with it

PEACE