A Sentimental Journey | Page 8

Excuse me,
Madame, replied I,--I treated him most unkindly; and from no
provocations.--'Tis impossible, said the lady.--My God! cried the monk,
with a warmth of asseveration which seem'd not to belong to him--the
fault was in me, and in the indiscretion of my zeal.--The lady opposed
it, and I joined with her in maintaining it was impossible, that a spirit so
regulated as his, could give offence to any.
I knew not that contention could be rendered so sweet and pleasurable a
thing to the nerves as I then felt it.--We remained silent, without any
sensation of that foolish pain which takes place, when, in such a circle,
you look for ten minutes in one another's faces without saying a word.
Whilst this lasted, the monk rubbed his horn box upon the sleeve of his
tunic; and as soon as it had acquired a little air of brightness by the
friction--he made me a low bow, and said, 'twas too late to say whether
it was the weakness or goodness of our tempers which had involved us
in this contest--but be it as it would,--he begg'd we might exchange
boxes.--In saying this, he presented his to me with one hand, as he took
mine from me in the other, and having kissed it,--with a stream of good
nature in his eyes, he put it into his bosom,--and took his leave.
I guard this box, as I would the instrumental parts of my religion, to
help my mind on to something better: in truth, I seldom go abroad
without it; and oft and many a time have I called up by it the courteous
spirit of its owner to regulate my own, in the justlings of the world:

they had found full employment for his, as I learnt from his story, till
about the forty-fifth year of his age, when upon some military services
ill requited, and meeting at the same time with a disappointment in the
tenderest of passions, he abandoned the sword and the sex together, and
took sanctuary not so much in his convent as in himself.
I feel a damp upon my spirits, as I am going to add, that in my last
return through Calais, upon enquiring after Father Lorenzo, I heard he
had been dead near three months, and was buried, not in his convent,
but, according to his desire, in a little cemetery belonging to it, about
two leagues off: I had a strong desire to see where they had laid
him,--when, upon pulling out his little horn box, as I sat by his grave,
and plucking up a nettle or two at the head of it, which had no business
to grow there, they all struck together so forcibly upon my affections,
that I burst into a flood of tears: --but I am as weak as a woman; and I
beg the world not to smile, but to pity me.
THE REMISE DOOR. CALAIS.
I had never quitted the lady's hand all this time, and had held it so long,
that it would have been indecent to have let it go, without first pressing
it to my lips: the blood and spirits, which had suffered a revulsion from
her, crowded back to her as I did it.
Now the two travellers, who had spoke to me in the coach-yard,
happening at that crisis to be passing by, and observing our
communications, naturally took it into their heads that we must be
MAN AND WIFE at least; so, stopping as soon as they came up to the
door of the Remise, the one of them who was the Inquisitive Traveller,
ask'd us, if we set out for Paris the next morning?--I could only answer
for myself, I said; and the lady added, she was for Amiens.--We dined
there yesterday, said the Simple Traveller.-- You go directly through
the town, added the other, in your road to Paris. I was going to return a
thousand thanks for the intelligence, THAT AMIENS WAS IN THE
ROAD TO PARIS, but, upon pulling out my poor monk's little horn
box to take a pinch of snuff, I made them a quiet bow, and wishing
them a good passage to Dover.--They left us alone. -
- Now where would be the harm, said I to myself, if I were to beg of
this distressed lady to accept of half of my chaise?--and what mighty
mischief could ensue?
Every dirty passion, and bad propensity in my nature took the alarm, as

I stated the proposition.--It will oblige you to have a third horse, said
Avarice, which will put twenty livres out of your pocket;--You know
not what she is, said Caution;--or what scrapes the affair may draw you
into, whisper'd Cowardice. -
Depend upon it, Yorick! said Discretion, 'twill be said you