to be inhabited by poor people, and to be busied about small and petty
affairs; the most picturesque business that I saw being that of the old
woman who sells crucifixes of pearl and of wood at the cathedral door.
We bought two of these yesterday.

I must again speak of the horrible muddiness, not only of this part of
the city, but of all Paris, so far as I have traversed it to-day. My
ways, since I came to Europe, have often lain through nastiness, but I
never before saw a pavement so universally overspread with mud-padding as
that of Paris. It is difficult to imagine where so much filth can come
from.

After dinner I walked through the gardens of the Tuileries; but as dusk
was coming on, and as I was afraid of being shut up within the iron
railing, I did not have time to examine them particularly. There are
wide, intersecting walks, fountains, broad basins, and many statues; but
almost the whole surface of the gardens is barren earth, instead of the
verdure that would beautify an English pleasure-ground of this sort. In
the summer it has doubtless an agreeable shade; but at this season the
naked branches look meagre, and sprout from slender trunks. Like the
trees in the Champs Elysees, those, I presume, in the gardens of the
Tuileries need renewing every few years. The same is true of the human
race,--families becoming extinct after a generation or two of residence
in Paris. Nothing really thrives here; man and vegetables have but an
artificial life, like flowers stuck in a little mould, but never taking
root. I am quite tired of Paris, and long for a home more than ever.



MARSEILLES.