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hers--but as if she thought about it;--and I had infallibly lost it
a second time, had not instinct more than reason directed me to the
last resource in these dangers,--to hold it loosely, and in a
manner as if I was every moment going to release it, of myself; so
she let it continue, till Monsieur Dessein returned with the key;
and in the mean time I set myself to consider how I should undo the
ill impressions which the poor monk's story, in case he had told it
her, must have planted in her breast against me.


THE SNUFF BOX. CALAIS.


The good old monk was within six paces of us, as the idea of him
crossed my mind; and was advancing towards us a little out of the
line, as if uncertain whether he should break in upon us or no.--He
stopp'd, however, as soon as he came up to us, with a world of
frankness: and having a horn snuff box in his hand, he presented
it open to me.--You shall taste mine--said I, pulling out my box
(which was a small tortoise one) and putting it into his hand.--
'Tis most excellent, said the monk. Then do me the favour, I
replied, to accept of the box and all, and when you take a pinch
out of it, sometimes recollect it was the peace offering of a man
who once used you unkindly, but not from his heart.

The poor monk blush'd as red as scarlet. Mon Dieu! said he,
pressing his hands together--you never used me unkindly.--I should
think, said the lady, he is not likely. I blush'd in my turn; but
from what movements, I leave to the few who feel, to analyze.--
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

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