private distresses at the inn: and, except that he ordered the garden gate to be bolted up, by which he might be said to have turned the siege of Dendermond into a blockade,— he left Dendermond to itself,-to be relieved or not by the French king, as the French king thought good; and only considered how he himself should relieve the poor lieuten ant and his son.

-That kind Being, who is a friend to the friendless, shall recompense thee for this.

Thou hast left this matter short,' said my uncle Toby to the corporal, as he was putting him to bed, and I will tell thee in what, Trim.-In the first place, when thou madest an offer of my services to Le Fevre,-as sickness and travelling are both expensive, and thou knewest he was but a poor lieutenant, with a son to subsist as well as himself out of his pay, that thou didst not make an offer to him of my purse; because, had he stood in need, thou knowest, Trim, he had been as welcome to it as myself. Your honour knows,' said the corporal, ◄ I had no orders. True,' quoth my uncle Toby,' thou didst very right, Trim, as a soldier, but certainly very wrong

as a man.

In the second place, for which, indeed, thou hast the same excuse,' continued my uncle Toby,' when thou offeredst him whatever was in my house, thou shouldst have offered him my house too. A sick brother officer should have the bestquarters, Trim; and if we had him with us,we could tend and look to him.--Thou art an excellent nurse thyself, Trim, and what with thy care of him, and the old woman's, and his boy's, and mine together, we might recruit him again at once, and set him upon his legs.

In a fortnight or three weeks,' added my uncle Toby, smiling, he might march.' He will never march, an' please your honour, in this world,' said the corporal. He will march,' said my uncle Toby, rising up from the side of the bed with one shoe off. An' please your honour,' said the Corporal, he will never march, but to his grave.'

He shall march,' cried my uncle Toby, marching the foot which had a shoe on, though without advancing an inch, ' he shall march to his regiment.' He cannot stand it,' said the corporal. He shall be supported,' said my uncle Toby. He'll drop at last,' said the corporal, and what will become of his boy?' He shall not drop,' said my

uncle Toby, firmly.- A-well-a-day! do what we can for him,' said Trim, maintaining his point, the poor soul will die. He shall not die, by God!' cried my uncle Toby. -The accusing Spirit, which flew up to heaven's chancery with the oath, blushed as he gave it in; and the recording Angel, as he wrote it down, dropped a tear upon the word, and blotted it out for ever.

-My uncle Toby went to his bureau,-put his purse into his breeches pocket, and having ordered the corporal to go early in the morning for a physician,-he went to bed, and fell asleep.

The sun looked bright the morning after, to every eye in the village but Le Fevre's and his afflicted son's; the hand of death pressed heavy upon his eye-lids;-and hardly could the wheel at the cistern turn round its circle,-when my uncle Toby, who had rose up an hour before his wonted time, entered the lieutenant's room, and without preface or apology, sat himself down by the chair at the bedside, and, independently of all modes and customs, opened the curtain in the manner an old friend and brother officer would have done it, and asked him how he did,— how he had rested in the night, what was his complaint, -where was his pain,-and what he could do to help him ;—and, without giving him time to answer any one of the inquiries, went on and told him of the little plan which he had been concerting with the corporal the night before for him.

-'You shall go home directly, Le Fevre,' said my uncle Toby, to my house, and we'll send for a doctor to see what's the matter,—and we'll have an apothecary,—and the corporal shall be your nurse; and I'll be your servant, Le Fevre.'

There was a frankness in my uncle Toby,-not the effect of familiarity, but the cause of it,-which let you at once into his soul, and showed you the goodness of his nature. To this, there was something in his looks, and voice, and manner, superadded, which eternally beckoned to the unfortunate to come and take shelter under him, so that before my uncle Toby had half finished the kind offers he was making to the father, had the son insensibly pressed up close to his knees, and had taken hold of the breast of his coat, and was pulling it towards him.-The blood and spirits of Le Fevre, which were waxing cold and slow

within him, and were retreating to their last citadel, the heart-rallied back,-the film forsook his eyes for a moment; he looked up wishfully in my uncle Toby's face ; then cast a look upon his boy; and that ligament, fine as it was, was never broken.

Nature instantly ebbed again; the film returned to its place-the pulse fluttered,-stopped,-went on,-throbbed,-stopped again,-moved,-stopped.-Shall I go on? -No.

X

EDWARD NARES.

THE following extract is from a clever novel, entitled, Thinks-I-to-Myself, written by DR NARES, Professor of Modern History in the University of Oxford, and published in 1811. DR NARES is author of another one, entitled, I Says, Says I :-and we are sorry he has not followed out that line of literature, as these works evince considerable knowledge of life and manners, and may be said to constitute a class of their own.

A FRIENDLY VISIT.

ONE day, when I was sitting quite snug with my mother, and she was occupied in writing to my sister, who was absent from home, I spied, at the end of the avenue, a group of pedestrians slowly making up to Grumblethorpe Hall, apparently dressed in their best bibs and tuckers for a morning visit: Thinks I-to-myself, here's some agreeable company coming to my dear mamma! how kind it is of her neighbours to call upon her thus, and not leave her to mope away her time by herself, as though she were buried alive! Not being willing, however, to run any risk of disappointing her, I waited patiently to see whether they were really coming to the Hall, for part of the avenue was the high-way to the village; I kept watching them, therefore, with no small anxiety, for fear they should turn away abruptly, and deceive my expectations; but when I saw them happily advanced beyond the turning to the village, and was therefore certain that they were really coming to see my dear mother, I hastily turned round to her, exclaiming, 'Here's ever so fine people coming, mamma!' thinking to delight her very heart: People coming,' says she; "I hope not!' Yes, indeed, there are,' says I:-'one, two, three, four ladies, a little boy, and two pug dogs, I declare!'

Bless my soul!' says my mother, how provoking! It is certainly Mrs Fidget and her daughters, and that troublesome child, and now I can't finish my letter to your sister before the post goes! I wish to goodness they would learn to stay at home, and let one have one's time to one's self!' Thinks-I-to-myself, my poor mother seems not much to like their coming; I am afraid that Mrs and Miss Fidgets will meet with rather an unkindly reception! However, I plainly saw that there was no stopping of them ;-they got nearer and nearer; the walking was not over clean, and my mother was the neatest woman in the world. Thinks-I-to

myself, the pug-dogs will dirty the room. At last they arrived; the servant ushered them in ;-sure enough it was Mrs and Miss Fidgets, and the troublesome child and all! Mrs Fidget ran up to my mother as though she would have kissed her, so glad did she seem to see her. My mother, (bless her honest soul!) rose from her seat, and greeted them most civilly:-This is very kind, indeed, Mrs Fidget,' says she, and I esteem it a great favour!-I had no idea you could have walked so far; I am delighted to see you!Thinks-I-to-myself, she wishes you all at Old Nick !-Mrs Fidget assured her she might take it as a particular favour, for she had not done such a thing, she believed, for the last six months; and she could never have attempted it now to visit any body else! Thinks-I-to-myself, then Mrs Fidget, you have lost your labour ! And now,' says she,' how I am to get home again, I am sure I cannot tell, for I really am thoroughly knocked up.'-Thinks-I-to-myself, my dear mother won't like to hear that ;-but I was mistaken; for, turning to Mrs Fidget, she said, with the greatest marks of complacency, that's good hearing for us; then we shall have the pleasure of your company to dinner; Mr Dermont will be delighted, when he comes home, to find you all here.'—‹ O, you are very good,' says Mrs Fidget, but I must return whether I can walk or not, only I fear I must trouble you with a longer visit than may be agreeable.' The longer the better,' says my dear mother. Thinks-I-to-myself, that's a

!

While my mother and Mrs Fidget were engaged in this friendly and complimentary conversation, the Miss Fidgets were lifting up the little boy to a cage in which my mother's favourite canary bird hung, and the boy was sedulously poking his fingers through the wires of the cage, to the great alarm and annoyance of the poor little animal. Thinks-I-to-myself,