where, excepting Whitsuntide and Christmas, at which times the corporal was punctually dispatched for him he remained to the spring of the year seventeen; when the story of the emperor's sending his army into Hungary against the Turks, kindling a spark of fire in his bosom, he left his Greek and Latin without leave, and, throwing himself upon his knees before my uncle Toby, begged his father's sword, and my uncle Toby's leave along with it, to go and try his fortune under Eugene. Twice did my uncle Toby forget his wound, and cry out: Le Fever! I will go with thee, and thou shalt fight beside - and twice he laid his hand upon his groin, and hung down his head in sorrow and disconsolation. me My uncle Toby took down the sword from the crook, where it had hung untouched ever since the lieutenant's death, and delivered it to the corporal to brighten up and having detained Le Fever a single fortnight to equip him, and contract for his passage to Leghorn — he put the sword in his hand If thou art brave, Le Fever, said my uncle Toby, this will not fail thee but fortune, said he, musing a little fortune may and if she does added my uncle Toby, come back again to me, Le Fever, and we will shape thee another course. - The greatest injury could not have oppressed the heart of Le Fever more than my uncle Toby's paternal kindness - he parted from my uncle Toby, as the best of sons from the best of fathers - both dropped tears and as my uncle Toby gave him his last kiss, he slipped sixty guineas, tied up in an old purse of his father's, in which was his mother's ring, into his hand - and bid God bless him. Le Fever got up to the imperial army just time enough to try what metal his sword was made of, at the defeat of the Turks before Belgrade; but a series of unmerited mischances had pursued him from that moment, and trod closǝ upon his heels for four years together after he had withstood these buffetings to the last, till sickness overtook him at Marseilles, from whence he wrote my uncle Toby word, he had lost his time, his services, his health, and, in short, every thing but his sword - and was waiting for the first ship to return back to him. A YORICK'S DEATH. FEW hours before Yorick breathed his last, Eugenius stept in with an intent to take his last sight and last farewell of him. Upon his drawing Yorick's curtain, and asking how he felt himself, Yorick looking up in his face, took hold of his hand and, after thanking him for the many tokens of his friendship to him, for which, he said, if it was their fate to meet hereafter, he would thank him again and again; he told him, he was within a few hours of giving his enemies the slip for ever. — I hope not, answered Eugenius, with tears trickling down his cheeks, and with the tenderest tone that ever man spokeI hope not, Yorick, said he. Yorick replied, with a look up, and gentle squeeze of Eugenius's hand and that was all-but it cut Eugenius to his heart. Come, come, Yorick, quoth Eugenius, wiping his eyes, and summoning up the man within him— my dear lad, be comforted let not all thy spirits and fortitude forsake thee at this crisis when thou most wantest them—who knows what resources are in store, and what the power of God may yet do for thee? Yorick laid his hand upon his heart, and gently shook his head. For my part, continued Eugenius, crying bitterly as he uttered the words - I declare I know not, Yorick, how to part with thee, and would gladly flatter my hopes, added Eugenius, cheering up his voice, that there is still enough left of thee to make a bishop and that I may live to see it. - I beseech thee, Eugenius, quoth Yorick, taking off his night-cap as well as he could with his left hand — his right being still grasped close in that of Eugenius I beseech thee to take a view of my head. I see nothing that ails it, replied Eugenius. Then, alas! my friend, said Yorick, let me tell you, that it is so bruised and mis-shapened with the blows which have been so unhandsomely given me in the dark, that I might say with Sancho Pança, that, should I recover, and « mitres thereupon be suffered to rain down from heaven as thick as hail, not one of them would fit it. » — - Yorick's last breath was hanging upon his trembling lips ready to depart as he uttered this—yet still it was uttered with something of a Cervantic tone and as he spoke it, Eugenius could perceive a stream of lambent fire lighted up for a moment in his eyes faint picture of those flashes of his spirit, which (as Shakspeare said of his ancestor) were wont to set the table in a roar! Eugenius was convinced from this, that the heart of his friend was broke; he squeezed his hand and then walked softly out of the room, weeping as he walked. Yorick followed Eugenius with his eyes to the door he then closed them and never opened them more. his He lies buried in a corner of his church-yard, under a plain marble slab, which his friend Eugenius, by leave of his executors, laid upon grave, with no more than these three words of inscription, serving both for his epitaph and elegy ALAS, POOR YORICK! Ten times a day has Yorick's ghost the conso lation to hear his monumental inscription read over with such a variety of plaintive tones, as |