ke the nude figures, degrade our
conceptions of Venus, and Sappho, and the Syrens, and others of our
classic acquaintances, by the exhibition of them in questionable
groupings tolerated as _poses plastiques_. Wine-shades attract us; we
hear the clink of billiards. This house we know to be a betting
house--that to be a hell. A man runs up against us. He turns round and
apologizes. I catch a glimpse of his face. I see at once that he is a
billiard-room shark. Look at his pale face, his cold eye, his hard
mouth; and don't play with him, however civil. Above all, don't imagine
from his exterior that he is a gentleman. A gentleman does not wear
slop-shop clothes nor mosaic gold.

You wish to sit down. Well, as it is past the midnight hour, we will go
into this _Cafe Chansante_. At any rate the foreigners have more taste
than ourselves. The pretty young girls, French or German, at the bar
give the place a pleasant appearance, and the mirrors on all sides
reflect the gay forms and faces here assembled. But we pass into the
concert room, where some Spanish minstrels in national costumes are
singing national airs. As you are not musical and cannot understand
these distinguished foreigners, let us see who are here, the Swiss
Kellner, with his wonted civility, having first brought us a cup of
coffee and a cigar. I don't know why it is so, but it always struck me
that of all asses the English ass is the greatest. How conspicuous, for
instance, are those three young fellows sitting at the small marble table
in front of us. Most likely they are medical students. Of course they
are drinking and smoking, and have female companions, respecting whose
character there can be no doubt. How happy are they in their conceit--in
their insolent laugh at the foreigners round them--in their vulgar shouts
of derisive applause. Talk to them, and you will be astonished to find
how morally dead they are, how narrow is their range of thought, how
obsolete are all their ideas, how suppressed are all their sympathies:
not even the beer they drink can be heavier. Yet these lads are to teach
the next age its medical science--and in the last death-struggle, when we
would save the life we love, with broken hearts and streaming eyes we
shall appeal to them in vain. In England the general practitioner will
always be under-bred so long as the night-house and the casino absorb the
hours science imperiously claims. But pass on to this next t