He was

justice in esteemning his medical abilities, which were great he had made medicine the study of his life; and not allowing any irrelevant occupation to disturb his attention, he became master of that science, while ignorant of every other with which it had no connexion. the father of a family, and in the usual acceptation of the term, a very good sort of a man! he preferred his coun try to every other, because it was his country; he loved his wife and children: he was kind to the poor, to whom he gave his advice gratis, and letters to the dispensary for drugs; and when he had broken victuals to spare, he desired it to be divided among them; but he seldom caught his maid obeying this part of his commands, with out reprimanding her for her extravagance in giving away what ought to be eaten in the kitchen-" in these times it was a shame to waste a crumb, and the careless huzzy would come to want for thinking so lightly of other people's property."

Thus, like many in the world, he was a loyal citizen from habit, an affectionate father from nature, and a man of charity, because he now and then felt pity, and now and then heard it preached from the pulpit. He was exhorted to be pious, and to pour wine and oil into the wounds of the stranger: but it never once struck him that piety extended farther than going to church, mumbling his prayers and forgetting the sermon, through most of which he generally slept and his commentaries on the good Samaritan were not more extensive for the stranger, to him, was like the Canaanite embassy that cheated the host of Israel, his nearest neighbour. To have been born on the other side of the British channel, spread an ocean between the poor foreigner and Mr. Vincent's purse, which to this hour the swiftest wings of charity could never cross. "He saw no reason." he said "for feeding the natural enemies of our country. Would any man be mad enough to take the meat from his children's mouths, and throw it to a swarm of wolves just landed on the coast?" These wolves were his favourite metaphors, when he spoke of the unhappy French, or any other per nyless foreigners, who came in his way.

After this explanation, it will appear paradoxical to

mention an inconsistency in the mind of Mr. Vincent, that would never permit him to discover the above Camish mark of vagabondism, upon the wealthy stranger of whatever country. Somehow or other, it was with him as with many riches were a splendid and thick robe, that concealed all blemishes: take it away, and probably the poor stripped wretch would be treated even worse than his crimes deserve.

That his new patient possessed some property, was sufficient to ensure the respect and medical skill of Mr. Vincent: and when he entered his own house he told his wife that he had found "a very good job at Mrs. Robson's in the illness of a Mr. Constantine, her lodger."

When the Count Sobieski quitted the Hummums, the evening on which he brought away his baggage, he had been so disconcerted by the impertinence of the man who acced him, that he determined no longer to expose himsel to insult, by retaining a title which rendered him obnoxious to the curiosity of the insolent and insensible ; and therefore, when Mrs. Robson asked him how she should address him, as he was averse to assume a feigned n me, he merely mentioned Mr. Constantine.

Under that unobtrusive character he hoped in time to accommodate his feelings to the change of fortune which Providence had allotted to him. He must forget his nobility, his pride, and his sensibility: he must earn his subsistence. But, by what means? He was ignorant of business: and he knew not how to turn his accom plishments to account. Such were his meditations, till illness and delirium deprived him of these, and of reason together.

At the expiration of a week, in which Mr. Vincent attended his patient very regularly, Sobieski was able to remove into the front room, and leave that gloomy cham ber where he had endured so much anguish of body and mind. Uneasiness about how he should discharge the debts he had incurred, retarded his recovery, and made his hours pass in cheerless medication on the scanty means he possessed to repay the good widow and satisfy the avidity of the apothecary; who, in proportion as his patient could bear the addition, had sent in phials of medi

cines by aozens. Pecuniary obligation was a load to which he had been unaccustomed; and, once or twice, the wish almost escaped his heart, that he had died.

When ever he was left to think, such were always his reflections; but Mrs. Robson, who discovered that he appeared more feverish, and had worse nights after being much alone during the day, contrived, though she was obliged to be in her little shop, to leave either Nanny to attend his wants, or little William to amuse him.

The child by its uncommon quickness and artlessness of manner, gained upon the Count, who was ever alive to helplessness and innocence.-Children and animals, always found a friend and protector in him. From the "majestic war-horse with his neck clothed in thunder," to "the poor beetle that we tread upon," every creature of creation, met an advocate of mercy in his breast and as human nature is prone to love what it has been kind to, Thaddeus never saw either children, dogs, or even the poor slandered and abused animal the cat, that he did not by some spontaneous act, show it atten tion.

The little William now possessed what affection he could spare from memory. He hardly ever left his side, where he sat on a stool, prattling about any thing that came into his head; or seated on his knee, followed with his eyes and playing fingers, the Count's hand, as he sketched a horse, or a soldier for his pretty companion.

In this way he slowly acquired sufficient strength to allow him to quit his dressing-gown and prepare for a

walk.

A hard frost had succeeded to the chilling damps of November; and looking out of the window he longed, with almost sensations of eagerness, again to inhale the fresh air. After some tender altercations with Mrs. Robson, who feared to trust him even down stairs, he at length conquered; and taking the little William in his hand, folded his pelisse round him, and promising to venture no farther than the kings Mews, was suffered to go

out.

As he had expected, he found the keen breeze act like

a charm on his debilitated frame, and with braced nerves, and exhilarated spirits, he walked twice up and down the place, whilst his companion played before him, throwing stones and running to pick them up. At this moment one of the king's carriages, pursued by a concourse of people,suddenly drove in at the Charing-cross gate. The frightened child screamed and fell. Thaddeus seeing its danger,darted forward, and seizing the heads of the horses, which were within a yard of the boy, stopped them; meanwhile, the mob gathered about, one of them lifted up William, who continued his cries. The count now let go the reins, and for a few minutes tried to pacify his little charge; but finding that his alarm and shrieks were not to be quelled, and that his own figure from his singularity of dress, his high cap and feathers adding much to his height, had drawn on him the whole attention of the people, who quitted the carriage and colletted round him: he took the trembling child in his arms, and walking through the Mews, was followed by some of the bystanders almost to the door of Mrs. Robson's shop.

Seeing the people, and her grandson sobbing on the breast of her guest, she ran out and hastily asked what had happened. Thaddeus simply answered that the boy had been frightened. But when they entered the house, and he had thrown himself, exhausted on a seat, William, as he stood by his knee told his grandmother, that if Mr. Constantine had not stopped the horses, he must have been run over. The count was now obliged to relate the whole story: which ended with the blessings of the poor woman for his goodness, to risk his own life in such a weak state for the preservation of her darling child.

Thaddeus in vain assured her, that the action deservad no thanks, as it was spontaneous and merely his duty. "Well," cried she, "It is like yourself, Mr. Constantine: you think all your good deeds nothing: and yet any little odd thing that I can do out of pure love to serve you, you cry up to the skies.-However, we won't fall out; I say Heaven bless you, and that is enough! Has your walk refreshed you? But I need not ask; you have already got a colour."

"Yes," returned he rising and taking off his cap and

cloak, "it has put me in a glow and made me quite another creature." As he finished speaking, he dropped the things from the hand that held them, and staggered back against the wall.

"Good Lord! what is the matter?" cried Mrs. Robson, alarmed, and looking in his face, which was now as pale as death, "what is the matter?"

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Nothing, nothing," returned he, recovering himself and gathering up the cloak he had let fall, "don't mind me, Mrs. Robson; nothing," and he was leaving the kitchen to go up stairs: but she followed him, terrified at his looks and manner.

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Pray, Mr. Constantine !"

Nay, my dear madam," said he, leading her back again, "I am not well: I believe my walk has overcome me. Let me be a few minutes alone, till I have recovered myself. It will oblige me."

Well, sir, as you please!" and she curtsied; then laying her withered hand fearfully upon his arm, as he was quitting the room, "forgive me, dear sir," said she “if my attentions are troublesome? Indeed, I fear that so'getimes great love appears like great impertinence; I would always be serving you, and therefore I often forget the wide difference that there is between your honour's station and mine."

The count could only press her hand gratefully, and with an emotion that made him hurry up stairs. When in his room he shut the door, and cast a wild and inquisitive gaze around the apartment, then throwing himself into a chair, he struck his head with his hand, and exclaimed, "It is gone! What will become of me? of this poor woman, whose substance I have consumed!

It was true, the watch, by the sale of which he had calculated to defray the charges of his illness, and the sum that he was conscious he must owe Mrs. Robson, was indeed lost. A villain in the crowd, having per ceived the sparkling of the chain to which it was united, had taken it unobserved from his side; and he knew nothing of his loss, ill feeling for it to see the hour, he discovered his misfortune.

The shock went like a stroke of electricity through his