escriptions of this nature; but it is perhaps surpassed in terrible
effects by the one here offered to us, of the bodies of those who had
died of the cholera piled up in carts and tumbrils, in coffins so
hastily and slightly constructed, that, as they rattled over the stones,
there was constant danger of their horrible contents being poured upon
the pavement. But the strange reports that were afloat amongst this
credulous and passionate populace, form the most striking feature in the
picture. It was reported in Paris, as our readers will probably
remember, that there was, in reality, no cholera, but that poison had
been poured into the fountains of the metropolis, and had been mingled
with the wine and the flour; and thus it was that the people were dying.
It was dangerous to be found with a phial in the hand, or to be seen
sitting, without any ostensible cause, near one of the public fountains.
A young man was looking into a well; he was massacred. Another met the
same fate, who was leaning over the door of a dealer in wine and
spirits, in order to see what o'clock it was. A Jew in the market-place
was thought to have a sinister laugh; they searched him, found a packet
of white powder--it was camphor--they killed him, and set on the dogs to
tear the body.

And then that insurrection against the mud-carts--what an insight does
it give into the wide-spreading and tangled interests of a modern
capital! It was impossible to touch the mud of Paris without periling
the subsistence of eighteen hundred persons. What more fit, what more
innocuous to all parties, it would seem, than to clear away the mud from
the streets--to clear it away as soon as possible, that it should not
lie there, exhaling pestilence during the heat of the day? But
stop--there are in Paris some eighteen hundred persons who gain their
bread out of this mud, groping in it, and extracting from it every
article of the least commercial value. With a basket slung upon their
back, and a crook in their hand to facilitate their search, these
_chiffoniers_ are to be seen in every quarter of the city, congregating
wherever there is dirt. And now, if all that is thrown out of the houses
of Paris is taken away before these industrious persons have had time to
search it, what is to become of the whole profession of _chiffonerie_?
These new mud-carts, with their ruthless sweepers, traversing the city
at dawn of day, must be broken up and thrown into the Seine; and it wa