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narrating the circumstances of his wife's
infidelity so closely, that although fictitious names
only were stated, the guilty lover, touched to
the quick by the resemblance with his own
misdeeds, looked up tremblingly, in time to
see, in the looking-glass, a sinister expression
upon the features of the barber; who,
immediately after, illustrated the climax of his
narrative, by cutting off the left cheek of his
customer. The same thing, or something
very much like it, fills nine volumes from the
pen of a celebrated romancist. But novel-
writing is one art, and the recording of
"Various Facts" is another.

The following little sample of scenes that
(according to the newspapers) are constantly
occurring in the French capital, is extracted
from the " Ordre" (a daily paper) of the
8th of November, 1851. It forms a portion
of the weekly article, headed " Review of
Paris," signed Eugene Guinot, (a journalist of
some celebrity,) and containing remarks on
musical news, books, and all remarkable events
of the week, being generally written with
gravity, and purporting to contain facts only.
The scene is the cemetery of Père la Chaise.

"On Sunday afternoon last, two funeral
processions were observed to approach the
cemetery about the same time. Coming by
opposite roads, the two parties converged at
the gates, and entered the grounds in close
succession. They mounted the sorrowful
steep; followed the same path for some
moments; then turning to right and left, they
separated, each seeking the chosen place
where the tomb was prepared.

" Certain signs indicated that one of these
parties followed to her last home a female
friend; while it was evident that the other
party deplored the loss of a brother or husband.

"The double ceremony ended, and the parties
had retired; one person might have been
remarked, standing alone at each of the graves.
Near the tomb of the one was a gentleman in
an attitude of sorrow: beside the other, a lady
in deep mourning. Long time they prolonged
their farewells; each quitting at the same
moment that spot where they had left interred
a part of themselves; a portion of their
hearts.

"Proceeding with a slow and sad step, it
happened, that the two mourners arrived
together at the point where the paths formed
an angle with the broad walk. Their eyes
met; and they exchanged a tearful look, and
an exclamation of surprise.

"' Is it indeed you, madame? '

"' And you, monsieur?"

"' This is a strange chance, madame. Ten
years ago an amicable arrangement separated
us, whom the rites of matrimony had joined
together.'

"' It is a sad chance that has conducted me
hither, monsieur.'

"'It is to a no less sad one that I am
indebted for this meeting. This day I have
performed my last duty towards one who was
dearer to me than life.'

"' Ah! she is no more! I too have lost my
dearest friend on earthhe who was indeed
the consolation of my life. Receive my
assurance of sympathy, monsieur.'

"' Believe me, madame, I feel for you most
sincerely.'

"So saying, they walked on for some
moments in silence, side by side, giving way
to thoughts, whose melancholy nature
revealed itself in frequent sighsreflecting upon
the pastupon the future;—bitter reflections,
which the sequel of their conversation
betrayed.

"' Alas! ' said the husband, ' henceforth,
how hollow, how colourless, must life appear! '

"' And mine! ' exclaimed the wife, in a
broken voice.

"' What could recompense the loss of those
kind attentions? '

"' To whom shall I confide my sorrows? '

"' Where now shall my evenings be passed? '

"' Upon what arm shall I lean? '

"And each added mentally that it was now,
perhaps, too late to take up those ties that
had been so long loosened.

"'Does there not appear to you,' said the
husband, ' a singular coincidence in this
event, that strikes us on the same day, and
isolates us at the same time ? '

"' The hand of fate reveals itself in this
meeting.'

"' It reunites us, that we may mutually
console each other. Who does not know how
to feel for the misfortunes which he has
himself suffered? '

"' Do we understand each other? '

"' You speak of her? '

"' And you, of him? '

"' Has not experience taught us to be
indulgent? '

"' It has. and many things besides.'

"They arrived again at the gate, where two
carriages awaited them; one of which they
dismissed. The two mourners, who had come
separately, returned together; doubtless never
to part again."

This romantic little anecdote is, by no
means, an unfair specimen of the facts recorded
in the " Revue de Paris." Histories, no less
striking, are to be found every day related as
truths with the utmost gravity, and in the
most conspicuous parts of the Parisian journals.
We trust we have, in former pages, given
enough to show that, if the French portraits
of the English include a few eccentricities, we
are amply revenged by certain Frenchmen's
pictures of society in France.


On the 22nd of March will be published, neatly bound in Cloth,
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