inted;--a cloaked figure stealthily dropping a
swathed effigy of humanity, just 'sent into this breathing world,' in
the rotary cradle of the asylum for _enfants trouves_, and a cart full
of the corpses of the poor, driven into the yard of a hospital for
dissection.

Summoned one evening at dusk to the sick chamber of a countryman, I
realized the shadows of life in Paris. From the dazzling Boulevard the
cab soon wound through dim thoroughfares, up a deserted acclivity, to a
gloomy porch. A cold mist was falling, and I heard the bell sound
through a vaulted arch with desolate echoes. When the massive door
opened, a lamp suspended from a chain revealed a paved _entresol_ and
broad staircase; there was something prison-like even in the patrician
dimensions of the edifice; the light nickered at every gust. Ascending,
I pulled a _cordon bleu_, and was admitted into the apartment. It
consisted of four places or rooms, the furniture of which was in the
neatest French style, both of wood and tapestry; but the fireplace was
narrow, and so ill-constructed that while the heat ascended the chimney
the smoke entered the room. A nurse, with one of those keen,
self-possessed faces and that efficient manner so often encountered in
Paris, ushered me to the invalid's presence. He was a fair specimen of a
philosophic bachelor inured to the life of the French metropolis;
everything about him was in good taste, from the model of the lamp to
the cover of the arm-chair; and yet an indescribable cheerlessness
pervaded his elegant lodging. The last play of Scribe, the day's
_Journal des Debats_, a bouquet, and a Bohemian glass, were on the
marble table at his side. His languid eye brightened and his feverish
hand tightened convulsively over mine; years had elapsed since he left
our native town; he had drunk of the cup of pleasure, and cultivated the
resources of literature and science in this their great centre; but now,
in the hour of physical weakness, the yearning for domestic and home
scenes filled his heart; and his mind reacted from the blandishments of
a luxurious materialism and a refined egotism of life. It was like
falling back upon the normal conditions of existence thus to behold the
'ills that flesh is heir to' in the midst of a city where such rich
outward provision for human activity and enjoyment fills the senses.
Excessive civilization has its morbid tendencies, and great refinement
in one direction is paralleled by an equal de