Paris ten thousand homeless artisans, who could only obtain accommodation by the direct and despotic interference of the Emperor and his police force. It is said that artisan-barracks are now being erected out of Paris, and within the city I saw that the poorer portions were pulled down and now in course of rebuilding. But would it not have been better to have begun with this, instead of adorning the Louvre and the wood of Boulogne?
And whither, in the meantime, had the night-butterflies which swarmed in the streets of 1822, now taken their flight? Whither, also, had the beggars and the miserable wretches betaken themselves?
I was told that the former now danced at Prado, on the Quai aux fleurs, whilst a better class of the same might be found at Valentino, and that the poor wretches who formerly begged on the promenades, now found shelter, and were provided for, at a great institution, called La Salpétriére.
I visited these places, in company with the young couple, my friends, who, like myself, had a pleasure in becoming acquainted with the many sides and scenes of this world.
We drove, first, to Prado. We found, on our entrance, that the large, uncleanly saloon, contained nearly as many police as dancing guests. They stood in full uniform, glancing around them. By degrees, the hall became crowded; loud, thundering music, began to play, and people stood up for quadrilles. Each person danced according to his own pleasure; one sprawled out his legs, dancing “can can,” as it is called; another took great leaps; men and women
