vocal overtures of "voulez-vous, Mademoiselle," descended again the stair-case, and left him alone to the enjoyment of his jug of cold water and his pocket dictionnaire.

It was just the beginning of the University Long Vacation, when Mr. Circumflex had set out on his tour; and being asked if there were any news, instead of adverting to the proceedings of the courts martial and the Court of Cassation, which then occupied every mind at Paris, he began narrating the success or failure of his several pupils at the recent Christchurch collections. At last, Tracy, much amused with his " originalité," which struck him more forcibly at Paris than ever it had done before, determined to play him one good trick, at least, before he parted with him, and, accordingly, offered to procure him an introduction for that evening to a splendid ball, to be given in the house of an elderly French lady. Every body recollects the innocent simplicity with which the good Vicar of Wakefield admitted the town ladies into the bosom of his family; we advert to it less as an illustration of the somewhat parallel position in which Mr. Circumflex was placed, by the lamentable wickedness of Bob Tracy, than as a species of precedent, and, therefore,

justification of ourselves; and with a view to shew those critics, who may be censorious, and accuse us of introducing improper topics into our book, that the errors of our grandfathers have been more leniently regarded. A brilliant salon, engaged for the purpose in the Champs Elysées, was lighted up in the evening, and a first rate band attended for the purpose of the guests weaving the merry dance. The ball was given as a speculation, by an old lady of great convenience in Paris, who had contrived to assemble there some of the prettiest faces, and finest figures, ever seen, and not a few of the first figurantes at the opera were distinguishable in the crowd. Tickets were disposed of at a napoleon a-piece; but Tracy, afraid of awakening Circumflex's suspicions, and resolved to have his joke, however it might reduce his own extremely impoverished finances, had paid for his tutor's ticket, so that he was not at all aware that it was a public ball. The old lady was put up to the thing beforehand, and as Bob Tracy led his tutor into the room on his arm, and presented him to the Duchesse de Liaisons, the scene around him was so fascinating, and the manner with which he was accueilli so polite and agreeable, that it was im

possible the least idea of anything improper should be started in his mind. In fact, these scenes are conducted generally with so much decency and propriety, with so much even of elegance and goodbreeding, in Paris, as compared with our own country, that half its sting seems taken from the shame of vice, and the severest stoic might be almost won to forgiveness; so little apparent reason is there for censure or reproach.

Mr. Circumflex, who fancied himself all the while in the best society, and was quite elated at being the guest of a duchess, paraded like a peacock up and down the room; and, at last, it being hinted to him by Tracy that the ease of French manners did not make it necessary for him to wait for the ceremony of a formal introduction, he ventured to address one of the ladies in the best French which he could muster up for the occasion. The lady not understanding one word of his gibberish, but imagining that he had asked for her address, drew quietly a satin card with her printed name from her gold-embroidered reticule, and placed it in his hand. Finding presently another Englishman in the room, and being ashamed to expose his ignorance, by applying for information to Tracy, Circumflex shewed

the card, and inquiring the meaning, asked what compliment he ought to pay the lady in return for her civility.

"Oh!" said the Englishman, “I should think five napoleons would be ample."

Mr. Circumflex put his hat under his arm, and walked away as fast as he could. The following morning he quitted Paris, and Bob Tracy had the satisfaction of telling the story all over the capital.

Richard Bazancourt was not of a disposition to be much amused at this story: he had little or no humour in his composition; he had strong feelings, but little fun; and he could hate to excess, although nothing would have induced him to play a trick upon the object of his hatred. He lived, and moved, and had his being, not in the farce but in the tragedy of life. He was in earnest in whatever he did, and he meant whatever he said. The light and playful merriment of Tracy, perhaps in him carried rather to the excess of boisterous raillery at times, found no echo in the serious temperament of Bazancourt. Accordingly, when he and Tracy, together with Lord Fletcher and Louis Boivin, met by agreement at the supper table in Fletcher's lodgings, late on the same evening after the eventful ball, Bazan

court scarcely smiled when he was told the success of Tracy's practical joke; and, adverting to other topics, continued the conversation in a different and more general strain.

Most of the persons present had some secret theme of sorrow, which their thoughts would have dwelt upon, had they been alone: Bazancourt had his lady of Stonesfield; Boivin, his faithless countess; Tracy, his pecuniary embarrassments; and Lord Fletcher, his ill reception in society, and his father, Lord Furstenroy's displeasure to reflect upon. As these subjects, however, could be interesting to none but themselves, each made an effort for the sake of prolonging the agreeable harmony of the evening; and the state of the drama, and the condition of the public theatres was adverted to, as a common topic which was equally open to the discussion and animadversions of them all.

"I love to see little Esther at the Ambigu," said Tracy; "there's not a prettier or livelier brunette in all Paris; and she, together with Mademoiselle Mayer, at the Vaudevilles, as a belle blonde, might be grouped well, like the lily and the tulip, side by side, in a gallery of painted beauties. Each affords a contrast to the other; for the blonde is