of public assistance, who takes charge of the poor, being named by the ministers, with the consent of the President. He appoints his assistants in all the departments, with the signature of the President. Supreme judges are appointed by the minister of justice, with the consent of the other ministers and the signature of the President; they may be removed to other localities, but are appointed for life. Only the judges hold their offices by a life-tenure; these other officers are for good conduct or at the will of the government. All the officers of the tribunals are appointed by the government. Thus we can see how in France power generally goes downward; instead of upward, as with us. Though the territory of France is so much smaller than ours, yet its population near equals our own, being thirtyeight millions.

· Friday, June 15th.—About half-past seven this morning I go to the baker's for bread, and as I leave the shop I see a procession of little boys, conducted by a young man in spectacles and gown. Supposing them to belong to the Jesuit school of which I have spoken, I follow, and see them enter it, and afterwards three young girls. As the young women go in, I think that I may, and I find myself first in an entry, and then in a large, high hall, where I catch sight of two or more frames hanging, on one of which I read, "School of St. Ignatius. Excellence, Diligence." There are other subjects, and the names of scholars distinguished, as I had seen them at the boys' public school. The young women had apparently gone into a room whose door was on the right of these frames, and I look within and find a chapel, the far end of which has a gaudy appearance; within the chapel are a number of males and some females. I do not enter this room, but

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seeing a swarthy man, rather young, standing in the outer one, a person connected with the establishment, apparently one of the brethren,-I inquire, "Are there services, sir, every morning?" Politely he takes off his cap and replies, "Mass every morning." I do not quite understand him, and he repeats with good humor, "Mass every morning at half-past seven." Going out, I see upon the street seven omnibuses, each with two horses, labelled, "Day School of the Rue de Madrid," not, as within, "School of St. Ignatius." A person in the neighborhood tells me that the holiday of this school is not Thursday, the usual day, as the boys fought so with the other boys. I ask her who began, and she says, "Sometimes the one side, sometimes the other."

Occasionally the traveller is gravely told of things in his own country which he never saw at home. Victor tells me that coke here is three francs the hectolitre, the hectolitre being about two and eight-tenths bushels. He does not burn stone-coal here because it smells bad, so I infer that the coal used here is bituminous. He tells me that we have not enough coal in America to supply our ships, but have to do like the French and buy our coal in England! The ships of France, he says, are obliged to buy English coal, which is cheaper than the French. French, indeed, have very little. Belgium is very well supplied, and this coal district continues for a space into France; but this, I believe, is all which France has,-fuel being the weak point of this fine country. Victor tells me that stone-coal sells at five and seven francs the hundred kilos (the kilogramme being about two and one-fifth pounds). If we estimate one thousand kilos to a ton, the cheapest stone-coal here will be about ten dollars the ton.

The

Wood is sold by weight, and is six francs the hundred kilos, or about twelve dollars the ton. At the Exposition I see an immense lump of our coal, with six stoves standing upon it. Near by are seven whitewashed barrels containing different kinds of coal. Could the exhibit be got up more elegantly and be labelled, it would doubtless attract more attention.*

Our countrywoman, Julia Ward Howe, has chosen the subject for her lecture before the league lately mentioned ; it is to be Woman and Peace. It has been suggested to her to take The Liberty of the Press in America; but in conversation both Madame Latour and Madame GounodTessin think that she might not be able to procure a permit to lecture upon this subject from the minister of the interior and the prefect of police, as is required.

Sunday, June 16th.—I see a young woman sitting with her sewing at one of the windows which look upon our courtyard, and I ask whether domestics sew on Sunday. Victor asks, "If a workman has work on Sunday, shall he not do it to support his family?" "But you do not give lessons on Sunday ?" I say (for, besides his business of book-keeper, he has spoken of giving lessons). "No," he answers; "because in a school you cannot take a day when you wish, as a workman can."

Monday, June 17th.-Passing through the Batignolles

* Appletons' "Cyclopædia" tells us that coal is to be found in different departments of France; the annual yield of the mines being about two million tons. The production of Pennsylvania in 1874 was over thirty-two million tons.

Market, I see upon a card conspicuously posted, "Fresh meat from America. Mutton. Prices of the day." The prices run as follows: leg seventy-five centimes the half kilo, or about fourteen cents the pound English; cutlets the same; fillet about twelve cents; and shoulder about eleven; but I see no rush of people to buy it. At the Farmers' Market in Philadelphia the different stalls are conspicuously labelled in this manner: Stephen Darlington, Virgil Eachus, Isaac Evans; but at this Batignolles Market there are small signs or plates, with the names thus: Mr. Goujon, Mr. Blanc, Mme. Ve. Pierre, or Mrs. Widow Pierre, and so on. I begin to reflect that the title monsieur (as addressed to the lord of the manor) must have fallen since the old times; but possibly these are as much of gentlemen as some of the ancient ones. Anyhow, Batignolles Market is not one of the charming places of Paris.

After passing through the market, I soon come to a handsome public garden, the Square des Batignolles. It has chairs and benches, fine grass, handsome trees, beautitifully-kept flowers, and it is a good place to banish the disgust which one is likely to feel after leaving untidy, squalid surroundings. There is a piece of water in the square; it flows over the gravelled path and among large stones, and upon it there are ducks. Birds twitter overhead, children prattle, and I feel that it is a beneficent government that provides such a place; for, besides being out of sorts, I have just left a third floor where lives a working-woman and passed through the disagreeable market.

While, however, I am complacently seated, a woman comes up to me in a business manner; and she means business, for she demands four sous for the use of the chair, which

cools my enthusiasm. I have thoughtlessly taken an armchair, which costs more. When I pay her, she gives me a little colored picture or card, such as shopmen give out in Paris,―foolish things perhaps, but artistically done; my colored picture is "Marriage in miniature; asking consent of the father." It says also, "Most precious discovery of the age: dentifrice of cresses. The back of the card narrates the virtues of this dentifrice, and is stamped with the price of my chair,--twenty centimes: it is my receipt. Near me sit two ladies; the elder one has an umbrella, and the younger is making tatting with a shuttle; two little ones are with them, a boy and a girl, tidily dressed in French fashion, but not expensively. They have little wooden shovels and tin buckets, and are playing with the gravel. The boy is so pleased that he looks up at the younger lady and says, "Good-day, mamma." "Good-day, my little one," she replies. Soon the elder lady takes the children away, and they come back with wafers or thin rolled-up cakes. The water is introduced under large rocks to resemble a spring; it has a little fall from pool to pool; it attracts children, as water always does. A gardener comes in wooden shoes, bringing flower-pots. What a quantity of manure upon this bed of geraniums! Where do they get so much? A man comes with a wheelbarrow-load of fine stable manure, and then another. A little girl comes up to where we are sitting, accompanied by an elderly man. She has a hoop; she joins the other two children, and they begin to play hidehide,-cache-cache,-which we call hide-and-seek. Then the new-comer takes a pebble in one hand, and holds out both for her companion to guess in which hand it is. She has let the little boy have her hoop, and now she begins to repeat verses, as our children say when at play, “One-.