by the commissary. Be it known, therefore, (and I would advise my countrymen to keep it in remembrance) that a Dutch commissary is a man of infinite importance; at least in his own opinion, of which we had an indubitable proof.

A waeghen (in English, a waggon) was ordered to be got ready. Now, why the vehicle in question should be called a waggon, I cannot possibly conceive. It is by no means inelegant, and might undoubtedly be styled a coach-but whether this is to be attributed to the genius of the language, or-but no matter-it were loss of time to think of setting a Dutchman right; once wrong, he will ever remain so.

The waggon, however, was ordered, and we were told by the commissary that we must wait. There was something unpleasing in the sound. It is true, indeed, that there are times and seasons when a man can wait with a tolerable degree of patience this did not happen to be one of them.-Half an hour had elapsed; and in that time the commissary, who never wishes to remain idle, had taken the money for the carriage, and a sesterhaf* for himself. The sum he had retained was trifling; but his seizing on it was insufferable. He would have gained more by leaving the matter to me, and I was careful to let him know it.

The Frenchman had hitherto sat contentedly; he now, however, began to abuse the commissary. The Dutchman coolly answered he must "wait." He then rapped out several diables—swearing that a Dutch commissary was the most phlegmatic sot existing, and that it was impossible he should be moved

"He would make an excellent inquisitor," whispered I-my companion acknowledged it with a nod.

We are apt to form our opinions too hastily: for, though the commissary was by no means the most obliging person in the world, he was not altogether blameable in the present business. There was a particular reason in the delay.

LA BOURGEOISE.

HELVOET.

IN little more than an hour and the carriage was brought to the door. We were at the same time accosted by a lively Frenchwoman, who requested to be indulged with a seat in it. She was dressed très proprement; and it very clear to me, that we had been detained for no other reason than to give her an opportunity of reaching Briel.

is

Strange liberties! thought I, that when a man has engaged a vehicle to carry him forward on his journey, he shall, notwithstanding, be detained above an hour, in order to accommodate a petite Bourgeoise (for she was absolutely nothing more), who may happen to be going the same route.

"This would never be endured in England," said I. "C'est très commun ici," replied my companion; "and it would be altogether vilain to send her away-we must undoubtedly comply."

The gallantry of a Frenchman was at stake. At any other time, perhaps, I might have been equally polite; at this particular moment, however, I was a little out of humour; and very earnestly contended that the carriage would hold but two.

I was already in the vehicle, and my companion by my side-" Voyez-vous, ma chère," said I, (pointing to the seat,) "there is scarcely an inch of room." Now, whether the ma chère which had thus inadvertently fallen from me, or whether but I will not puzzle myself about it-suffice it, that I had no sooner uttered the words than she cried-"O mon Dieu! il y a assez de place-Je me mettrai là, Monsieur, entre vous deux." Saying which she stepped into the carriage, placed herself between us, and ordered the postillion to go on.

Fort bien! exclaimed I-and if any of my countrywomen could have acted thus-the virtuous part of them, I mean—and such was the lady in question—I will forfeit every ducat in my purse.

We had proceeded a mile or two in silence, when my attention was awakened by our female. She was discoursing on the badness of the roads and the unfavourableness of the weather-remarked, that she was particularly desirous of getting that evening to Briel; and that she must have attempted the journey on foot, had she not so fortunately met with me.

And why, in the name of Heaven, thought I, did you not tell me this before? By all that's amiable, (looking on her face, which I now discovered to be particularly handsome,) I would most willingly subject myself to every inconvenience, rather than fail in accommodating so fair a creature.

She certainly read my thoughts. "Apparemment, Monsieur," said she, "je vous incommode?" "Not in the least, Madam," cried I, squeezing myself as much as possible into the corner of the carriage; and which, by the way, was the very thing I should have done at first" not in the least."

She smiled at this-assured me that she was parfaitement à son aise; and ironically added, that Monsieur was "très obligeant" in so readily giving her a place in his coach.

At this instant a blush of-but I will leave the reader to imagine the kind-arose upon my cheek. The lady immediately fixed her eyes upon me-the shame of being noticed by her increased it—she gazed still more ardently—my face was presently like a furnace. I knew not how to act. I knew not which way to look.—She now, however, was evidently concerned for my distress, and kindly relieved me, by turning aside her head.

Praise undeserv'd is satire in disguise.

So says the poet, and I never felt the justness of the observation more forcibly in my life.

We no sooner arrived at Briel than the lady alighted from the carriage, making me the most graceful curtsey in the world. It seemed, however, to reproach me, and I wished she had let it alone.

She was here met by a young man, whom I found to be her lover, and who received her with every appearance of joy. And now, thought I, had I by my churlishness prevented this meeting, what, "O Cupid! prince of gods and men,"* should I not have had to answer for?

THE RESOLUTION.

BRIEL.

I was really sorry at parting with the petite Bourgeoise. Not that I was any way enamoured of her, but because I wished to apologize for my behaviour. I had certainly treated her unhandsomely.

Well, well, said I to myself, it is but a trifling matter, and I will think no more about it-I am resolved I will not.

Now, this resolution was the most unfortunate one in nature-it was the very thing I ought not to have done. From the moment I had taken it, she was ever uppermost in my thoughts.

---Psha! cried I—and I again determined to forget her

"Is there any thing to be seen in Briel?" said I, turning to the landlord, who stood behind me with his bill of fare. "Oui, oui, beaucoup," returned he, "c'est un charmant endroit." I knew it to be exactly the reverse: but I very readily pardoned him. It is natural for every man to extol the town in which he resides it

* Euripides.

is particularly so in an innkeeper. The truth, however, is, that Briel is one of the dullest places on earth.

I was sitting pensively at the hotel the petite Bourgeoise entirely forgotten, and my thoughts devoted to my friends in England-when the landlord hastily entered the room.

"You cannot be ignorant, Monsieur," said he, "that at this time almost every Dutchman is a soldier. The burghers of the town are about to assemble for their evening exercise. It is a very pleasing sight; and if agreeable, I will have the honour of conducting you to the parade.' I answered, I should be glad of the walk.

"You can never think of walking, Monsieur,” said he; "as the distance is upwards of two miles. It is tout à fait impossible.”

"And where is the impossibility," said I, "of walking two or three miles?"

"Il fait très chaud, Monsieur."

66 A very excellent reason," returned I. And as the heat had hitherto been unperceived by me, I was certainly obliged to him for the information; and I think I made him a bow.

"Beside," continued he, “there is a lady in the room below, who hopes to be favoured with a place in the carriage"

Why, what the plague! thought I, this fellow has assuredly heard of my adventure, and takes the opportunity of bantering me. I will inquire into it

I was instantly at the bottom of the stairs-the petite Bourgeoise was standing at the door-she made me a curtsey down to the ground, and in a moment was out of sight

66

Plague on it!" cried I-" but I deserve it all-this is undoubtedly a woman of spirit!"

I afterwards visited the burghers; they are very "patriotic" soldiers, so I will say no more about them. Beside, the English reader is sufficiently acquainted with the nature of military associations.