te
houses is quenched in the gathering shades; you hear no more any rolling
but that of the carriages on their way to some party of pleasure; you
see only the lounger or the light-hearted passing by; work has given
place to leisure. Now each one may breathe after the fierce race through
the business of the day, and whatever strength remains to him he gives
to pleasure! See the ballrooms lighted up, the theatres open, the
eating-shops along the walks set out with dainties, and the twinkling
lanterns of the newspaper criers. Decidedly Paris has laid aside the
pen, the ruler, and the apron; after the day spent in work, it must have
the evening for enjoyment; like the masters of Thebes, it has put off
all serious matter till tomorrow.

I love to take part in this happy hour; not to mix in the general
gayety, but to contemplate it. If the enjoyments of others embitter
jealous minds, they strengthen the humble spirit; they are the beams of
sunshine, which open the two beautiful flowers called trust and hope.

Although alone in the midst of the smiling multitude, I do not feel
myself isolated from it, for its gayety is reflected upon me: it is my
own kind, my own family, who are enjoying life, and I take a brother's
share in their happiness. We are all fellow-soldiers in this earthly
battle, and what does it matter on whom the honors of the victory fall?
If Fortune passes by without seeing us, and pours her favors on others,
let us console ourselves, like the friend of Parmenio, by saying,
"Those, too, are Alexanders."

While making these reflections, I was going on as chance took me. I
crossed from one pavement to another, I retraced my steps, I stopped
before the shops or to read the handbills. How many things there are
to learn in the streets of Paris! What a museum it is! Unknown fruits,
foreign arms, furniture of old times or other lands, animals of all
climates, statues of great men, costumes of distant nations! It is the
world seen in samples!

Let us then look at this people, whose knowledge is gained from the
shop-windows and the tradesman's display of goods. Nothing has been
taught them, but they have a rude notion of everything. They have
seen pineapples at Chevet's, a palm-tree in the Jardin des Plantes,
sugar-canes selling on the Pont-Neuf. The Redskins, exhibited in the
Valentine Hall, have taught them to mimic the dance of the bison, and to
smoke the calumet of peace; they have seen Carter's lions fed; they