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stand ; and the poor fellow's veneration for his master was such, that, with a proper artillery, my uncle Toby could have taken Dendermond itself with less trouble than he was able to gain this point over him; for inany a time, when my uncle Toby supposed the corporal's leg was at rest, he would look back and detect him standing behind him with the most dutiful respect. This bred more little squabbles betwixt them than all o'her causes for five-and-twenty years together; but this is neither here nor there-why do I mention it? Ask my pan--it governs me-I govern not it.

He was one evening sitting thus at his supper, when the landlord of a little inu in the village came into the parlour with an empty phial in his hand, to beg a glass or two of sack.

• fis for a poor gentleman-I think of the army,' said the landlord. who has been taken ill at my house four days ago, and has never held up his head since, or had a desire to taste anything, till just now, that he has a fancy for a glass of sack and a thin toast. “I think,” says hé, taking his hand from his forehead, it would comfort me." If I could neither beg, borrow, nor buy such a thing,' added the landlord, 'I would almost steal it for the poor gentleman, he is so ill. I hope in God he will still mend,' continued he; - we are all of us concerned for him.'

• Thou art a good-natured soul, I will answer for thee,' cried my uncle Toby; and thou shalt drink the poor gentleman's health in a glass of sack thyself; and take a couple of bottles with my service, and tell him he is heartily welcome to them, and to a dozen more if they will do him good.'

* Though I am persuaded,' said my uncle Toby, as the landlord shut the door, he is a very compassionate fellow, Trim, yet I cannot help entertaining a high opinion of his guest too: there must be something more than common in him that in so short a time should win so much upon the affections of his host.' .' And of his whole family,' added the corporal; for they are all concerned for him.' 'Step after him,' said my uncle Toby; do, Trim; and ask if he knows his name.'

I have quite forgot it. truly,' said the landlord, coming back into the parlour with the corporal; but I can ask his son again.' • Has he a son with him, then ?' said my uncle Toby. 'A boy,' replied the landlord, ' of about eleven 'or twelve years of age, but the poor creature has tasted almost as little as his father; he does nothiny but mourn and lament for him night and day. He has not stirred from the bedside these two days.'

My uncle Toby laid down his knife and fork, and thrust his plate from before him, as the landlord gave him the account; and Trim, without being crdered, took it away, without saying one word, and in a few minutes after brought him his pipe and tobacco.

*Stay in the room a little,' said my uncle Toby. • Trim !' said my uncle Toby, after he lighted his pipe, and smoked about a dozen whiffs. Trim came in front of his master, and made his bow. My uncle Toby smoked on, and said no more.

Corporal!' said my uncle Toby. The corporal made his bow. My uncle Toby proceeded no further, but finished his pipe.

• Trim,' said my uncle Toby, 'I have a project in my head, as it is a bad night, of wrapping myself up warm in my roquelaure, and paying a visit to this poor gentle

Your honour's roquelaure,' replied the corporal, 'has not once been had on since the night before your honour received your wound, when we mounted guard in the trenches before the gate of St. Nicholas. And besides, it is so cold and rainy a night, that what with the roqnelaure, and what with the weather, 'twill be enough to give your honour your death, and bring on your honour's torment in your groin.' * I fear so,' replied my uncle Toby; • but I am not at rest in my mind, Trim, since the account the landlord has given me. I wish I had not known so much of this affair,' added my uncle Toby, or that I had known more of it. How shall we manage it?'

• Leave it, an't please your honour, to me,' quoth the corporal. I'll take my hat aud stick, and go to the house and reconnoitre, and act accordingly; and I will bring your honour a full account in an hour.' Thou shalt go, Trim,' said my uncle Toby; and here's a shilling for thee to drink with his servant.' 'I shall get it all out of him,' said the corporal, shutting the door.

My uncle Toby filled his second pipe; and had it not been that he now and then wandered from the point, with considering whether it was not full as well to have the curtain of the tenaille a straight line as a crooked one, he might be said to have thought of nothing else but poor Le Fevre and his boy the whole time he smoked it.

It was not till my uncle Toby had knocked the ashes out of his third pipe that Corporal Trim returned from the inn, and gave him the following accouut.


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despaired at first,' said the corporal, of being able to bring back your honour any kind of intelligence concerning the poor sick lieutenant.' Is he in the army, then?' said my uncle Toby. • He is,' said the corporal. "And in what regiment ? said my uncle Toby. “I'll tell your honour,' replied the corporal, everything straightforwards as I learned it.' "Then, Trim, I'll fill another pipe,' said my uncle Tohy, and not interrupt thee till thou hast done; so sit down at thy ease, Trim, in t'ie windowseat, and begin thy story again.' The corporal made his old bow, which generally spoke as plain as a bow could speak it-Your honour is good. And having done that, he sat down, as he was ordered ; and began the story to my uncle Toby over again in pretty near the same words.

• I despaired at first,' said the corporal, of being able to bring back any intelligence to your honour about the lieutenant and his son ; for when I asked where his servant was, from whom I made myself sure of knowing everything which wus proper to be asked :-(That's a right distinction, Trim,' said my uncle Toby)-I was answered, an' please your honour, that he had no servant with him; that he had come to the inn with hired horses, which, upon finding himself unable to proceed-to join, I suppose, the regiment—he had dismissed the morning after he

*. If I get better, my dear," said he, as he gave his purse to his son to pay the inan,

we can hire horses from hence." • But, alas! the poor gentleman will never get from hence," said the landlady to ine; " for I heard the death-watch all night long: and when he dies, the youth his son will certairly die with him; for he is broken-hearted already."

“I'was hearing this account,' continued the corporal, when the youth came into the kitchen, to order the thin toast the landlord spoke of. “ Bu: I will do it for my father myself," said the youth. Pray, let me save you the trouble, young gentleman,” said I, taking up a fork for the purpose, and offering him my chair to sit cown upon by the fire whilst I did it. "I believe, sir,” said he, very modestly, “ I can please him best myself.” I am sure,” said I, “his honour will not like the toast the worse for being toasted by an old soldier.' The youth took hold of my hand, and instantly burst into tears. • Poor youth !' said my uncle Toby; ‘he has been bred up from an infant in the army, and the name of a soldier, Trim, sounded in his ears like the name of a friend; I wish I had him here.'

"I never, in the longest march,' said the corporal, had so great a mind to my dinner, as I had to cry with him for company. What could be the matter with me, an' please your honour ? Nothing in the world, Trim,' said my uncle Toby, blowing his nose, but that thou art a good-natured fellow.'

When I gave him the toast,' continued the co. Tvral, 'I thought it was proper to tell him I was Captain Shandy's servant, and that your honour, though a stranger, was extremely concerned for his father; and that, if there was anything in your house or cellar--( And thou mightst have added my purse too,' said my uncle Toby)

he was heartily welcome to it. He made a very low bow, which was meant to your honour; but no answer, for his heart was full; so he went up stairs with the toast. “I warrant you, my dear,” said I, as I opened the kitchen door, your father will be well again." Mr. Yorick's curate was smoking a pipe by the kitchen fire, but said not a word, good or bad, to comfort the youth. I thought it wrong,' added the corporal. I think so too,' said my uncle Toby.

* When the lieutenant had taken his glass of sack and toast, he felt himself a little revived, and sent down into the kitchen to let me know that in about ten minutes be should be glad if I would step up stairs. " I believe,” said the landlord. " he is going to say his prayers, for there was a book laid upon the chair by his bedside, und as I shut the door, I saw bis son take up a cushion.”

• “I thought,” said the curat., " that you gentlemen of the ariny, Mr. Trim, never said your prayers at all.” “I heard the poor gentleman say his prayers last night," said the landlady, "very devoutly, and with my own cars, or I could not have bio lieved it.”. “Are you sure of it ?" replied the curate, “A soldier, an' please your reverence,” said I. "prays as often of his own accord as a parson; and when he is fighting for his king, and for his own life, and for his honour too, he has the most reason to pray to God of any one in the whole world.” 6'Twas well said of thee, Trim,' snid my uucle Toby. • “But when a soldier,” said I, •' an' please your reva crence, has been standing for twelve hours together in the trenches up to his knees in cold water, or engaged.” said I, “ for months together, in long and dangerous marches; harassed, perlaps, iu his rear to-day ; burassing others to-morrow; de


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tached here ; conntermanded there; resting this night out upon his arms; beat up in his shirt the next; b:numbed in his joints; perhaps without straw in his tent to kneel on; must say his prayers how and when he can. I believe," said I-for I was piqued,' quoth the corporal, . for the reputation of the army—“I believe, an' please yojir reverence,” said İ, “that when a soldier gets time to pray, he prays as heartily as a parson, though not with all his fuss and hypocrisy.'” •Thou shouldst not have said that, Trim,' said my uncle Toby: ‘for Goil only knows who is a hypocrite and who is not. At the great and general review of us all. corporal, at the day of judgment, and not till then, it will be seen who hus done their duties in this world, and who has not; and we shall be advanced, Trim, accordingly.'. I hope we shall,' sa:d Trim. “It is in the Scripture,' said my uncle Toby; and I will shew it thee to

In the neantime we may depend upon it, Trim, for our comfort,' said my uncle Toby, that God Almighty is so good and just al governor of the world, that if we have but done our duties in it, it will never be inquired into whether we have done them in a red coat or a black one. “I hope not,' said the corporal. on, Trim,' said my uncle Toby, 'with thy story."

When I went up, continued the corporal, “into the lieutenant's room, which I did not do till the expiration of the teu minutes, he was lying in his bed with his head raised upon his hand, with his elbow upon the pillow, and a clean white eambric handkerchief beside it. The youth was just stooping down to take up the cushion, upon which I supposed he had been kneeling; the book was laid upon the bed; and as he rose, in taking up the cushion with one hand, he reached out his other to take it away at the same time. “Let it remain there, my dear," said the lieutenant.

He did not offer to speak to me till I had walked up close to his bedside. you are Captain Shandy's servant,” said he, “ you must present my thanks to your master, with my little boy's thanks along with them, for his courtesy to me.” if he was of Levens's, said the lieutenant. I told him your honour was. Then," said he, I served three campaigns with him in Flanders, and remember him; but'is most likely, as I had not the lionour of any acquaintance with him, that he knows nothing of me.

You will tell him, bowever, that the person his good-nature bias laid under obligations to him is one Le Fevre, a lieutenant in Angus's. But he knows me not,” said he, a second tiine, musing. * Possibly he may my story,” added he. Pray, teli the captain I was the ensign at Breda whose wife was most unfortunately killed with a musket-shot as she lay in my arms in my tent." “I remember the story, an't please your honour,” said I, “ very well." "Do you so?” said he, wiping liis eyes with his handkerchief; “then well may 1.". In saying this, he drew a little rug out of his bosom, which seemed tied with a black ribbon about his neck, and kissed it twice. “Here, Billy," said he. The boy flew across the room to the bedside, and falling down upon his knee, took the ring in his hand, and kissed it too; then kissed his father, and : at down upon the bed and wept.'

• I wish,' said my ulicie Toby, with a deep sigh- I wish, Trim, I was asleep.' • Your honour,' replied the corporal, “is too much concerned. Shall I pour your honour out a glass of sack to your pipe ?! Do, Trim,' said iny uncle Toby.

I remember,' said ny uncle Toby, sighing again, the story of the cusign and his wife, with a circumstance his modesty omitted; particularly well that he, as well as she, upon some account or other, I forget what, was universally pitied by the whole regiment. But finish the siory thou art upon, “'Tis finished already,' said the corporal, . for I could stay no longer; so wished his honour a good-night.

'Thou has lett this maiter 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 mad'st an offer of my services to Le Fevre-as sickness and travelling are both expensive, and thou knowest he was but a poor lieutenant, with a son to subsist as well as himself out of his pay--that thou didst not mak: 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 kuows,' 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, thon shouldst have offered him my house too. A sick brother officer should have the best quarters, Trim; and if we had him with us, we could teed and look to him, Thou art an

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excellent nurse thyself, Trim; and what with thy care of him, and the old womau's, and his boy's, and mine together, we might recruit him again at ouce, and set him upo: his legs. In a fortnight or thr'e 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, risiug up from the side of the bed with one shoe off. “Au' 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 011, though without advancing au inch-he shall march to his regiment.'. • He cannot stand it,' said the corporal. · He shall be supported,' s id my uncle Toby. 'He'll drop at last,'s:id the corporal; and what will become of his boy?' He shall not drop,' said my uncle Toby firmly. “A-well-o'-day, do what we can for him,' said Trim, maintaining his point, 'the poor soul will die.' • He shall no: die, by G' 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 forever.

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 L. Fevre's and his amicted son's. The hand of death pressed heavy upon his eyelids, and hardly could the wheel at the cistern turn round its circle, when my uncle Tony: who had rose up an hour before his wonted time, entered the lieutenant's room, and without preface or apology, sat himself down upon the chair by 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 nome directly, Le Fevre,' said my uucle 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, LeFevre.

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 shewed you the goodness of his nature; to this there was something in his looks, and voice, and manner superadded, which cternally 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, five as it was, was never broken. Nature instantly ebbed again; the film returued to its place; the pulse fluttered-stopped-went on-throbbed-stopped again-moved-stopped. Shall I go on? No.

The Starling-Captivity. From the Sentimental Journey.' And as for the Bastile, the terror is in the word. Make the most of it you can, said I to myself, the Bastile is but another word for a tower, and a tower is but another word for a house you can't get out of. Mercy on the gouty! for they are in it twice a year; but with nine livres a day, and pen, and ink, and paper, and patience, albeit a man can't get out, he may do very well within, at least for a montli or six weeks; at the end of which, if he is a harmless fellow, liis innocence appears, and he comes out a better and wiser man than he went in.

I had some occasion--I forget what--to step into the court-yard as I se'ild this account; and remember I walked down-stairs in no small triumph with the conceit of my reasoning: Beshrew the sombre pencil, said I vauntingly, for I envy n t its powers, which points the evils of life with so hard and deadly a colourins. The mind sits terrified at the objects she has magnified herself and blackened: reduce them to their proper size and huc, she overlooks them. + 'Tis true,' said I, correcting the proposition, the Bastile is not an evil to be despised; but firip it of its towers, fill up the fo., unbarricade the doors, ca! it simply a coaliuemcut, and suppose 'is come tyrıt of a distcmper and not of a man which holds you in it, the evil vanishes, and you bear the other half without complaint.' I was interrupted in the beydey of this soliloquy with a voice which I took to be of a child, which complained it could not get out.' I looked up and down the passage, and seeing neither man, woman, nor child, I went out without further attention. In my return back thronyh the passage, I heard the same words repeated twice over; and locking up, I saw it was a starling bug in a little cage; I can't get out, I can't get out,' said the starling. I stood looking at the bird; and to every person who came through the passage, it ran fluttering to the side towards which they approached it, with th3 same lamentation of its captivity: 'I can't get out,' said the starling. “God help thee!' said I, • but I'll let thee out, cost what it will ;' so I turned about the cage to get the door. It was twisted and double-twisted so fast with wire, there was no getting it open without pulling the cage to pieces. I took both hands to it. The bird flew to the place where I was attempting his deliverance, and thrusting his head th: ough the trellis, pressed his breast against it as if impatient. “I fear, poor creature,' said I, “I cannot set thee at liberty.' .No,' said the starling, “I can't get out; I can't get out,' said the starling. I vow I never had my affections more tenderly awakened; or do I remember an incident in my life where the dissipated spirits, to which my reason had been a bubble, were so suddenly called home. Mechanical as the notes were, yet so true in tune to nature were they chanted, that ju one moment they overthrew all my systematic reasonings upon the Bastile; and I walked up-stairs, unsaying every word I had said in going down them.

• Disguise thyself as thou wilt, still, Slavery,' said I, «still thou art a bitter draught, and though thonsands in all ages have been made to drink of thee, thou art no less bitter ou thik account. 'Tis thion, thrice sweet and gracions goddess,' addressing myseli to Liberty, “whom all in pubic or in private worship. whose taste is grateful, and ever will be so, till nature herself shall change; no tint of words can spot thy snowy mantle, or chemic power turn thy sceptre into iron ; with thee 10 smile upon him as he eats his crust, the swain is happier than his monarch, from whose court thou art exiled. Gracious Heaver!' cried I, kneeling down upon the last step but one in my scant. 'grant me but health, thou great bestower of it, and give me but this fair goddess as my companion, and shower down thy mitres, if it seem good unto thy divine providence, upon those heads which are aching for them.'

The bird in his cage pursued me into my room. I sat down close to my table, aud leaning my head npon my hand, I began to figure to myseif the miseries of coufinement. I was in a riglt frame for it, and so I gave full scope to my imagination. I was going to begin wiil the millions of my fellow-creatures born to no inheritance but slavery ; but finding, however affecting ihe picture was, that I could not bring it near me, and that the multitude of fad groups in it did but distract me, I took a single captive, and having first shut him up in his dungeon, I then looked through ike twilight of his grated door to take his picture. I beheld his body half-wasted away with long expectation and confinement, and felt what kind of sickness of the heart it was which arises from hope deferred. Upon looking nearer, I saw him pile and feverish; in thirty years the western breeze had not once fanned his blood; he ha seen no sun, no moon, in all that time, nor had the voice of friend or kinsman breathed through his lattice ; bis children-but here my heart began to bleed, and I was forced to go on with another part of the portrait He was sitting upon the ground upon a little straw, in the furthest corner of his dungeon, which was altermately his chair and bed: a little calendar of small sticks lay at the head, notched all over with the dismal days and nights he had passed thera; he had one of these little sticks in his hand, and with a rusty nail he was etching another day of misery to add to the heap. As I darkened the little light he had, he lifted up a hopeless eye towards the door, then cast it down, shook uis head, and went on with his work of affliction. I heard his chains upon his less, as he turned his body to lay his little stick npon the bundle. He give a deep sigh: I saw the iron enter into his soul, I þurst into tears: I could not sustain the picture of confinement which my fancy had drawn.

A French Peasant's Supper. The family consisted of an old gray-headed man and his wife, with five or six sons and sons-in-law and their several wives, and a joyous genealogy out of them.

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