We next proceeded to sixteen cells on the ground-floor, each containing a zinc bath, supplied with hot and cold water, in which every prisoner is soaked and scrubbed on his arrival, and afterwards whenever prescribed by "le Médecin." In each of the six prisons are 25 double cells, to enable a nurse or keeper, when necessary, to sleep in the cell of a sick prisoner. My conductor now led me into the "Pharmacie," in which, as the principal medicine, I found boiling four large caldrons full of "tisane," which, in the public charities of Paris, appears to be a specific for all disorders.

To communicate with the upper cells, there appears, outside the doors of all, a narrow gallery, only 2 ft. 10 in. broad, on the exterior rail of which is a contrivance to admit a small train of trays, full of food, for each meal, to run on wheels as on a railway, by which means, and by the additional assistance on the uppermost story of a wheel and axle, provisions can be distributed throughout the whole prison, to all the cells, in twenty minutes. The prisoners have for breakfast, bread and soup; for dinner, vegetables, potatoes, haricos, and three days a week, one-third of a pound of meat; for supper, bread. Those who have money-strange to say-are allowed to purchase from a woman (cantinière), within the prison, whatever diet they like; the only limit being, that these suffering sinners must not-poor fellows-drink more than a bottle of wine per day.

Each of the six divisions, or prisons, has a circular court, called a Promenoir, subdivided by 20 walls, 10 feet high, running in the form of radii from the centre, where, in a small tower, containing a spiral staircase, is posted a surveillant, who, by merely turning on his heel, can look into each of the 20 subdivisions, which are 42 feet in length, three in breadth at the end near the watch-tower, 15 at the far end, and which, encircled by a wall, are bounded by iron railings, also 10 feet high. In each of these 20 wedge-shaped courts, at the broad end of which is a small shed for rainy weather, a prisoner is allowed to enjoy air and exercise for one hour every day, commencing at 8 o'clock.

Concentric with the railings that form the exterior of the circular promenade is a paved space, round which a keeper may walk, looking successively into each court. In following along this narrow space, I observed that the surveillant who was

conducting me apparently purposely avoided even to glance into any of the courts. I, however, looked very directly into one, in which I beheld a human being whose appearance I shall not easily forget. He was a tall thin man, of about 35 years of age, dressed in the prison garb, coarse grey clothes and wooden sabots. His hair, cut quite close, wildly contrasted with his long dishevelled beard and mustachios. Confinement appeared to have inflamed all his wicked passions to a state bordering on madness; and the look he first darted at me, and the ferocity which seemed to be rapidly increasing within him every instant he glared at me, were such that I really almost expected to see him spring like a wild beast against the bars of his cage. After I had passed him, the conductor told me he was an assassin of the worst description.

Returning to the "Bureau Central du Brigadier," from which I had commenced, we ascended a small staircase to an upper story, where I found a little chapel, looking down all the six alleys at once, containing a marble altar 5ft. 6in. long by four feet deep, surmounted by a small white plaster statue of the Virgin, and above that a large gilt one of our Saviour on the Cross: before this altar the priest of the establishment performs mass to the whole of the 1260 prisoners, whose doors, by means of a chain, which allows them to be ajar, are slightly opened in order to allow each to catch a squinting glimpse of the various movements of the holy man, whose prayers I should think could not possibly be wafted to all.

We next entered several magazines, full of materials for such of the prisoners as choose to work, in which case they are paid for what they do. It appears that the inmates, besides enjoying food according to their money, may, according to their inclination, be industrious or idle as they think proper.

My conductor, opening a door, now led me into a library, containing about 1600 volumes, historical and religious, lent to those who desire to read. As soon as I entered, from the opposite end there slowly approached me, just like one of the three cats shut up in the warehouse of lost goods at the railway terminus of the Chemin de Fer du Nord, the poor librarian, who seemed thankful, not only for every word I uttered to him, but even for the sight of the face of a stranger.

In proceeding towards the cooking department I came in a yard to several sets of rails, on which were some little carriages 4 feet long by three feet broad, containing 12 movable iron shelves or trays, each containing the rations of 18 men. I followed the train for about 100 yards to its terminus, where the carriages all descended from view to a series of subterranean rails, along which they proceeded until they came beneath machinery, by which each was hoisted by pulleys up a square chimney to the gallery to which it was consigned. On entering the kitchen, I found the cookery of the whole department, 1260 prisoners, officers, servants, and all, scientifically performed in six caldrons, over which hung a canopy for carrying away the steam and smoke.

My guide now informed me, in reply to my queries on the subject, that the "personnel" or strength of the establishment is composed as follows:

1 Director,

4 Clerks,

2 Priests,

1 Médecin ou Pharmacien,

1 Lauudry-woman, in charge of the linen washed by con

tract,

1 Brigadier-en-chef des Surveillants,

4 Sous-Brigadiers,

62 Surveillants (keepers),

4 Cooks, assisted by three of the prisoners. Total-81.

Besides the Model Prison in which I stood, there are in Paris, under the jurisdiction of the Prefect of Police, eight others, as also a military prison, under the Minister of War. In the whole of France there exist 391 prisons of different descriptions (namely, maisons d'arrêt, maisons centrales, and bagnes), containing 66,091 persons.

As I was about to leave this establishment I was informed I had overlooked 30 cells, 15 on each side of the entrance gate, in which prisoners are received and detained, until certain formalities have been performed, and until the baths are ready for their reception. However, as I had now arrived at the last set of bolts that were to be undrawn to allow me to depart, I had not fortitude enough to return to the interior, and, accordingly, proceeding onwards, I have seldom enjoyed

a more agreeable contrast than when, on coming into the space in front of the great prison from which I had just been released, I beheld close before me the Embarcadère or terminus of the Lyons Railway, the emblem of liberty and locomotion.

PÈRE LA CHAISE.

As on the morning previous to the review I had received from my oculist his last prescription, I was exceedingly anxious to take it and my eyes to Old England. On reflection, however, I felt there remained half a day's work for each of them to perform. On the Place de la Bastille I therefore stopped a fiacre that was hobbling by, and having taken my seat, and by means of a handle inside having very carefully fastened the door, I told the coachman's large face, which on looking upwards I found close to my own, where it was to go; and, accordingly, out of the innumerable streets which in all directions radiate from the place from which we were about to start, he selected that which, without turning to the right or left, ran straight to the scene I was desirous to visit, -the cemetery of Père la Chaise.

I had taken so much interest in the various objects I had hitherto visited, that almost habitually as I approached them I had experienced, by anticipation, a portion of the pleasure the realization of my curiosity subsequently afforded me. In the present instance, however, every time the poor horse nodded his jaded head, every time the driver whipped his neck, and every time the carriage jolted over the commonest description of loose stones, I felt that somehow or other I was a loser by the operation; that something pleasurable had been shaken out of me; in fact, that as I approached the mansions of the dead I was infinitesimally becoming less and less cheerful; and what in my sinking condition appeared to me to be anything but consoling was that the Rue de la Roquette at every step of the horse was evidently also becoming more and more gloomy.

The gaiety of Paris appeared not only to be fading away, but to be rapidly dying. At first the houses merely grew poor-looking and a little smaller; then came a dead wall, then an open shop full of tombstones, then a few houses, then a rather long dead wall, then a good many houses, then a shop full of bright round wreaths of yellow immortelles, then a couple of houses, then a shop full of nothing but jet black wreaths and white ones, then one teeming with yellow ones: at last, after passing another dead wall, we came to a climax of woe, made up of shops full, one after another, of monuments, images, statues, and crosses, of all shapes, sizes, and prices.

After gradually ascending for nearly half a mile along the paved gloomy valley of the shadow of death above described, the calèche, after having passed the Barrière d'Aunay, stopped at the lofty iron entrance gates of the cemetery of Père la Chaise, and as soon as I had dismissed my driver, I found myself in the centre of a scene which really quite amazed me.

Between the railings of the iron gate, and towering above the dead wall that surrounds the cemetery, I caught a glimpse of a confused variety of the monuments, obelisks, crosses, &c, I had expressly come to visit. But what arrested, and indeed for some minutes entirely engrossed my attention, was a crowd of women seated for a considerable length on each side of the wall, close to different-coloured umbrellas protecting from the sun large piles of bright yellow, snow-white, and rusty black round forget-me-not" immortelles of various sizes, and yet, not satisfied with such a stock, these women were busily occupied in making sepulchral wreaths faster than one would conceive it could be possible to sell them. Besides which

there were tastily arranged and suspended upon the dead wall garlands and crosses of everlasting flowers of all colours-blue, yellow, green, orange, with spotted blue and white. In whatever direction I walked, sometimes before me, sometimes behind me, sometimes on each side, and sometimes from all sides at once, cheerful-looking women in different voices were earnestly advising me to buy either a sepulchral wreath, cross, or garland. The only sister of the lot that did not address me was a very ugly one with an olive-coloured face, black hair, brown comb, and no cap, employed in eating with a stick, out of a dark-coloured earthen pot, grass-green spinach.