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 pity me. MONTRIUL. _The Bidet._--When all is ready, and every article is disputed and paid for in the inn, unless you are a little soured by the adventure, there is always a matter to compound at the door, before you can get into your chaise; and that is with the sons and daughters of poverty, who surround you. Let no man say, 'Let them go to the devil'--'tis a cruel journey to send a few miserables, and they have had sufferings enow without it. I always find it better to take a few sous out in my hand; and I would counsel every gentle traveller to do so likewise: he need not be so exact in setting down his motives for giving them--they will be registered elsewhere. * * * * * Having settled all these small matters, I got into my postchaise with more ease than ever I got into a postchaise in my life; and La Fleur having got one large jack-boot on the far side of a little _bidet_ (post-horse), and another on this (for I count nothing of his legs), he cantered away before me, as happy and as perpendicular as a prince. But what is happiness! What is grandeur in this painted scene of life! A dead ass, before we had got a league, put a stop to La Fleur's career--his _bidet_ would not pass it; a contention arose betwixt them, and the poor fellow was kicked out of his jack-boots the very first kick. La Fleur bore his fall like a French Christian, saying neither more or less upon it than _Diable!_ so presently got up and came to the charge again--then this way--then that way: and, in short, every way but by the dead ass. La Fleur insisted upon the thing--and the _bidet_ threw him. 'What's the matter, La Fleur,' said I, 'with this _bidet_ of thine?' '_Monsieur_,' said he, '_c'est un cheval le plus opiniatre du monde_.' 'Nay, if he is a conceited beast, he must go his own way,' replied I. So La Fleur got off him, and giving him a good sound lash, the _bidet_ took me at my word, and away he scampered back to Montriul. '_Peste!_' said La Fleur. * * * * *