I had a piece of rich sweet pudding en my fork when Miss Louisa Friendly begged to trouble me for a pigeon that stood near me; in my haste, scarce knowing what I did, I whipped the pudding into my mouth, hot as a burning coal; it was impossible to conceal my agony, my eyes were starting from their sockets. At last, in spite of shame and resolution, I was obliged to drop the cause of torment or my plate. Sir Thomas and the ladies all compassionated my misfortune, and each advised a different application; one recommended oil, another water, but all agreed that wine was best for drawing out the fire; and a glass of Sherry was brought me from the side-board, which I snatched up with eagerness; but O! how shall I tell the sequel? Whether the butler by accident mistook, or purposely designed to make me mad, he gave me the strongest brandy, with which I filled my mouth almost flayed and blistered; totally unused to every kind of ardent spirits, with my tongue, throat, and palate as raw as beef, what could I do? I could not swallow, and clapping my hands upon my mouth, the cursed liquor squirted through my nose and fingers like a fountain, over all the dishes; and I was crushed by bursts of laughter from all quarters. In vain did Sir Thomas reprimand the servants, and Lady Friendly chide her daughters; for the measure of my shame and their diversion was not yet complete. To relieve me from the intolerable state of perspiration which this accident had caused, without considering what I did, I wiped my face with that ill-fated handkerchief which was still

wet from the consequence of the fall of Xenophon, and covered all my features with streaks of ink in every direction. The baronet himself could not support this shock, but joined his lady in the general laugh, while I sprung from the table in despair, rushed out of the house and ran home in an agony of confusion and disgrace, which the most poignant sense of guilt could not have excited.

Thus without having deviated from the path of moral rectitude, I am suffering torments like a 'goblin damned.' The half of me has been almost boiled, my tongue and mouth grill'd, and I bear the mark of Cain upon my forehead; yet these are but trifling considerations, to the everlasting shame which I must feel, whenever this adventure shall be mentioned; perhaps by your assistance, when my neighbors know how much I feel on the occasion, they will spare a bashful man, and (as I am just informed my poultice is ready) I trust you will excuse the haste in which I subscribe myself yours, &c.

12*

PARENTAL AND FILIAL AFFECTION.

6

In Admiral Watson's ship, at the siege of Chandergore, Captain Speke and his son, a youth of sixteen, were both wounded by the same shot. The Captain, whose leg was hanging by the skin, said to the Admiral, Indeed, Sir, this was a cruel shot, to knock down both father and son.' Mr. Watson's heart was too full for a reply; he only ordered both to be carried down to the surgeon. The captain, who was first brought down,* told Mr Ives the surgeon, how dangerously his Billy had been wounded. Presently after the brave youth appeared, with his eyes overflowing with tears, not for himself, but for his father. Upon Mr Ives assuring him that his father's wound was not dangerous, he became calm, but refused to be touched, till his father's wound was first dress ed. Then pointing to a fellow sufferer, Pray, Sir, dress also that poor man who is groaning so sadly beside me.' Mr Ives told him that the man had been already taken care of, and begged that he now might have the liberty to examine his wound. He submitted, and calmly said, Sir, I fear you must amputate above the joint.' The surgeon replied, 'My dear, I must.' He clasp. ed his hands together, and lifting up his eyes towards heaven, he offered up the following short, but earnest petition: Good God! do thou enable

me to behave in my present circumstances, worthy of my father.' He then said he was all submission. The operation was performed above the joint of the knee; and during the whole time, the intrepid youth never spoke a word, nor uttered a groan that could be heard at the distance of a yard. It is easier to imagine, than to express the feelings of the father at this time: but whatever he felt, tears were the only expression. Both of them were carried to Calcutta: the father was lodged in the house of his brother-in-law; and the son was placed with the surgeon in the hospital. For the first week, comfort was given to them both by carrying good tidings of one another. But, alas! all the good symptoms that had attended the young man, began to disappear. The Captain perceived all in the surgeon's countenance; and so very unwilling was he to add to the distress of the latter, as seldom to speak about his son. One time he said, How long, my friend, do you think my Billy may remain in a state of uncertainty?' Mr Ives replied, If he survives the fifteenth day after the operation, there would be strong hopes of his recovery.' On the thirteenth he died; and on the sixteenth the captain said, with great energy, Well, Ives, how fares it with my boy?' Discovering the truth from Mr Ives's silence, he cried bitterly, and begged to be left alone for half an hour. When Mr Ives returned, he appeared, as he ever after did, perfectly calm anl serene. The excellent youth had been delirious the evening before his death; and at two o'clock in the morn

6

ing, he sent the surgeon a note written with a pencil, of which the following is a copy: Mr Ives will consider the disorder a son must be in when he is dying, and is yet in doubt about his father. If Mr Ives is not too busy to honor this note, which nothing but the greatest uneasiness could draw from me, the boy waits an answer.' Mr Ives immediately repaired to him; and he had still sense enough to know him. He then said, And is he dead?' ( 'Who, my dear?' 'My father, Sir.' 'No, my love; nor is he in any danger, he is almost well.' 'I thank God: I am now satisfied, and am ready to die. He had a locked jaw, and was in great pain, but Mr Ives understood every word he uttered. He begged his pardon for having disturbed him at so early an hour; and before the day was ended, he surrendered a life that merited much,