PAUL DE WALBERG. 



Truth is strange, 



Stranger than fiction." BYRON. 



IT "was in the early part of the autumn of 1786 that I arrived a 

 stranger in P . Business, not necessary to my narrative, had 

 obliged me to pay it a visit, though it was not of a nature likely to 

 render my stay considerable. P lay cut of the way of all my 

 connexions, and, destitute of introduction to the residents, my time, 

 for the most part, lay at my own disposal. There are few things so 

 uncheering as a constrained sojourn in a large town, where one is 

 without acquaintance, and obliged to depend for amusement solely 

 upon one's own resources. When the occupations of the day were 

 over, I was fain to wander about in a melancholy manner, eyeing 

 the dingy streets, and forming one of the crowd, without the benefit 

 of their daily communion. A stroll, too, into the country in the 

 vicinity would sometimes form my evening's relaxation ; but I set 

 out without a companion, traversed the places I visited with much 

 indeed to see, but little to interest, and returned without greeting or 

 notice to my melancholy lodgings. I will not say that I did not 

 experience much civility and attention from the people to whom the 

 house belonged in which I had located myself, but such distant 

 attentions little compensated for the kindnesses of acquaintanceship. 

 In this stagnation of hospitable intercourse, it was by mere acci- 

 dent that I fell into the company of Paul de Walberg. The table 

 cTh6te I was in the habit of frequenting was visited by a number of 

 respectable persons ; but among the variety of countenances I was 

 consequently beholding, there was not one who seemed inclined to 

 court the society of an unintroduced stranger. Walberg was, how- 

 ever, an exception. To a prepossessing exterior he united the most 

 gentlemanly manners; and, after a few common-place civilities had 

 passed, he seemed to think no formal introduction was necessary for 

 our better acquaintance. Business sufficiently employing both during 

 the middle of the day, we did not frequently meet until the approach 

 of evening. But our friendship ripened daily, and, understanding 

 that I had not yet become acquainted with the objects worthy the 

 attention of visitors, he kindly undertook to become my cicerone. I 

 found him a person of much information, and to his observations 

 many of the things of which he had volunteered the exhibition owed 

 a double relish. Thus the tedium of my stay was considerably 

 lightened, and t found myself gradually acquiring even something- 

 like a partiality for the city. The abstract attractions of the place, 

 however, could not take the credit of this, for I was very well con- 

 vinced it lay in the influence and attentions of Walberg. Time 

 seemed to fly lighter with me, and I became reconciled to my situ- 

 ation. 



