had- a devil himself could not have been angry : 'twas but the officious zeal of a well-meaning creature for my honour; and however he might have mistook the road or embarrassed me in

so doing his heart was in no fault

I was

under no necessity to write-and what weighed more than all-he did not look as if he had done amiss.

'Tis all very well, La Fleur, said I - 'Twas sufficient. La Fleur flew out of the room like lightning, and returned with pen, ink and paper, in his hand; and coming up to the table, laid them close before me, with such a delight in his countenance, that I could not help taking up the

pen.

I begun and begun again; and though I had nothing to say, and that nothing might have been expressed in half a dozen lines, I made half a dozen different beginnings, and could no way please myself.

In short I was in no mood to write.

La Fleur stept out and brought a little water in a glass to dilute my ink- then fetched sand and seal-wax It was all one: I wrote, and blotted, and tore off, and burnt, and wrote again Le diable l'emporte ! said I half to myself—I cannot write this self-same letter; throwing the pen down despairingly as I said it.

As soon as I had cast down the pen, La Fleur advanced with the most respectful carriage up to

the table, and making a thousand apologies for the liberty he was going to take, told me he had a letter in his pocket wrote by a drummer in his regiment to a corporal's wife, which, he durst say, would suit the occasion.

I had a mind to let the poor fellow have his humour – Then prithee, said I, let me see it.

La Fleur instantly pulled out a little dirty pocket-book crammed full of small letters and billets doux in a sad condition, and laying it upon the table, and then untying the string which held them all together, run them over, one by one, till he came to the letter in question La voilà! said he, clapping his hands; so, unfolding it first, he laid it before me, and retired three steps from the table whilst I read it.

MADAME,

THE LETTER,

Je suis pénétré de la douleur la plus vive, et réduit en même temps au désespoir par le retour imprévu du caporal, qui rend notre entrevue de ce soir la chose du monde la plus impossible.

Mais vive la joie! et toute la mienne sera de penser à vous.

L'amour n'est rien sans sentiment.

Et le sentiment est encore moins sans amour, On dit qu'on ne doit jamais se désespérer.

On dit aussi que Monsieur le caporal monte la garde mercredi : alors ce sera mon tour.

Chacun a son tour.

En attendant-vive l'amour! et vive la baga

telle!

Je suis, MADA M E,

Avec tous les sentimens les plus respectueux et les plus tendres, tout à vous,

JACQUES ROQUE.

It was but changing the corporal into the count —and saying nothing about mounting guard on Wednesday — and the letter was neither right or wrong-So, to gratify the poor fellow, who stood trembling for my honour, his own, and the honour of his letter I took the cream gently off it, and whipping it up in my own way — I sealed it up and sent him with it to Madame de L- and the next morning we pursued

WHEN a man can contest the point by dint of equipage, and carry all on floundering before him with half a dozen lackies and a couple of cooks— 'tis very well in such a place as Paris- he may drive in at which end of a street he will.

A poor prince who is weak in cavalry, and whose whole infantry does not exceed a single man, had best quit the field, and signalize himself in the cabinet, if he can get up into it-I say up into it—for there is no descending perpendicular amongst them with a « Me voici, mes enfans! » - here I am- -whatever many may think.

I own my first sensations, as soon as I was left solitary and alone in my own chamber in the hôtel, were far from being so flattering as I had prefigured them. I walked up gravely to the window in my dusty black coat, and looking through the glass, saw all the world in yellow, blue and green, running at the ring of pleasure. The old with broken lances, and in helmets which had lost their vizards-the young in armour bright which shone like gold, be-plumed with each gay feather of the east - all tilting at it like fascinated knights in tournaments of yore for fame and love

all

Alas, poor Yorick ! cried I, what art thou doing here? On the very first onset of all this glittering clatter, thou art reduced to an atom seek seek some winding alley, with a tourniquet at the end of it, where chariot never rolled, or flambeau shot its rays there thou mayest solace thy soul in converse sweet with some kind grisette of a barber's wife, and get into such coteries!

· May I perish! if I do, said I, pulling out

the letter which I had to present to Madame de R—. — I'll wait upon this lady, the very first thing I do. So I called La Fleur to go seek me a barber directly and come back, and brush my coat.

XXXI.

THE WIG.

PARIS.

WHEN the barber came, he absolutely refused

to have any thing to do with my wig: 'twas either above or below his art: I had nothing to do, but to take one ready made of his own recommendation. -But I fear, friend! said I, this buckle won't stand. — You may immerge it, replied he, into the ocean, and it will stand

-

What a great scale is every thing upon in this city! thought I―The utmost stretch of an English periwig-maker's ideas could have gone no further than to have « dipped it into a pail of water » — What difference! 'tis like time to eternity.

I confess I do hate all cold conceptions, as I do the puny ideas which engender them; and am generally so struck with the great works of nature, that, for my own part, if I could help it, I never would make a comparison less than a mountain at least. All that can be said against the French sublime in this instance of it, is this that the grandeur is more in the word, and less in the thing. No doubt the ocean fills the mind with