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added, that she might make it certain, by telling him where he could see her in Paris; but he could not bring himself to say so. At the same time, something seemed to tremble on the tongue of the baroness; but she also hesitated, and turned it at last into a polite adieu, as Charles departed, leaving an invitation, which both wished to have taken place, unsought by the one, and ungiven by the other. And so it often happens in moments of greater consequence, where the happiness of our whole future existence depends upon a single word, we have not the power to speak it, till irrevocable time has placed a barrier in our path which never can be overleaped. Oh that the fate of man should depend upon the hesitation of an instant —that his very being should depend upon the breath of one word Charles Melville's step, as he descended the stairs for the second time that morning, was fully more thoughtful than when he had been interrupted by the summons of of the baroness. At the bottom he met Mr. Wilmot, to whom he related what had happened, though without entering into all the particulars.

“She is very polite,” replied the other, with a kind of cynical smile, that gave Charles an undefined feeling of anger. But Mr. Wilmot never mentioned the subject again, though his companion led towards it very often; and giving the necessary directions, proceeded on their journey without even uttering the name of the haroness.

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But such agrete congregation
Of folke as I saw roame about,
Some within and some without,
Was never seen, he shall be est.
House of Fame.

The Metropolis.

“EveRY one has been at Paris.” So say the travelled world, who have been so much farther, and seen so much more, that the gay city seems but the first step from their own door—the very threshold on which they must tread before they can enter into the great thoroughfare of curiosities which Europe presents to the insulated Englishman. But if by chance there should be in any corner of this seasurrounded country some strange being, who, unfortunately contented, has never roamed from his native land, or any miserable one, whom interest or necessity has chained to a realm of plenty, and a shore of freedom, to them is this chapter written—not describing a city so often before described, but detailing the feelings it first occasioned, to one who, like them, had never before beheld it. A great proportion of the persons who visit Paris, are driven there by the tediousness of a three week's relaxation from business, and who, having no more time to spare upon it, fly from curiosity to euriosity in a manner truly surprising; so that to read the tours and descriptions they write when they come home, one would suppose that they had been propelled by a steam-engine, as no other known machine could produce such rapidity of locomo“But, no!" said Charles Melville, in arranging with Mr. Wilmot the plan of what he was to see in Paris—“no such thing for me; I did not come here to kill I 6 myself myself with the pure fatigue of enjoyment. No! sooner than that, I would enlist for a Cossack, be littered down upon straw, and dieted upon chopped sheepskins.” “From the shortness of our proposed - stay,” replied Mr. Wilmot, “there will be of course manythings very worthy of remark, which you will not be able to see at present: it will therefore be our best plan to choose the principal objects, and take time to give them a throrough examination.” - - “Yes,” replied Charles; “and not like Mr. Galignani's scheme, for seeing every thing in Paris in a week, allow, upon a moderate computation, ten minutes to go through the Louvre, and five to examine Les Invalids.” There is nothing perhaps more extraordinary about the capital of France, than the manner in which the finest streets and most magnificent public buildings are scattered amongst the ugliest, narrowest, and dirtiest


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