party met with many such petitioners, whose prayers were proffered in words too solemn to be here transcribed. A woman, who called herself "The gentle Eliza," was recorded never to have asked in vain; she seemed once to have filled a higher station, for her figure was elegant, and her voice soft and musical, though a dejection, verging on madness, was depicted in her countenance. She appealed first to the heart, and if there she knocked in vain, she successfully addressed the vanity of her hearers, in a strain of varied flattery. Her life was irreproachable, and her history unknown. Adelaide's attention was soon however diverted from this interesting object, by another of a very different description. A squalid looking woman, in the garments of extreme poverty, was leading her child by the hand, whose spotless skin, as white as snow, and its clean neat clothes, formed a surprising contrast to the mother's tattered filthy habiliments, Some hasty passenger knocked the poor infant down.--Adelaide raised it up, and as she beheld the countenance of a cherub, exclaimed, "What a beautiful creature!" The starving mother's mouth had opened to demand her charity, but her maternal pride made her forget her misery. "Troth, she is a beautiful cratur; she's the joy of my heart, and the light of my eyes; many's the long mile I've carried her, and thought it no toil; she makes me kindly welcome wherever I go; it was the Lord God sent her to me, an angel of comfort in my trouble: and may you never know trouble, dear; but my blessing, and the Lord's, be about you, when you get up, and when you lie down, and in your dying hour[11]." Adelaide felt her heart thrill within her, at this unpurchased benediction; she had scarcely given her all the silver in her purse, and less than she wished to bestow, when Colonel Desmond's sleeve was twitched by a venerable looking old gentleman, who begged to speak a word to him.--His countenance was uncommonly fine; he had "The eye which tells How much of mind within it dwells;" his reverend temples were adorned with the most beautiful flowing silver locks; his language and manners spoke the gentleman and the scholar; his threadbare coat alone told that he too was a mendicant! Colonel Desmond satisfied his usual demand of "Will you lend me a guinea?" without looking up to behold the blush that crimsoned his aged cheek; and with no other commentary than a deep sigh, rejoined his party. [Footnote 11: _Verbatim._]