s in a most
public place which the nice delicacies of our language and customs forbid
to describe.

The French, the Italians, and many of the inhabitants of South Germany and
parts of Switzerland--I should say all the sunny lands in Europe--have
handed down to our day, manners and customs which speak in a language that
cannot be misunderstood, and with a force far louder than a whisper, that
_it is not very long since man took to dressing himself_. In my
intercourse with those people, from Paris to Egypt, I nowhere observed any
baneful influences exerted over morality by these practices in question,
for they are not thought about by those people which are guilty of them,
but many an American will be shocked at them, and go home declaring that
such indecencies _must_ lead to immoralities, even if they have never gone
to the trouble to see whether they actually _do_. Their pernicious
influence upon American tastes and manners may be granted, but that does
not prove that foreigners, who are cradled, nursed and brought up in these
customs, will be affected in like manner. American and English tourists
are alike shocked and provoked at the sight of the innumerable nude
statues and paintings, on the, pleasure gardens and in the art galleries,
but the ladies of the continent seem to see as little of indecencies or
improprieties in those things, as we do in opening our Bibles and seeing
saints and apostles represented with bare feet--the _toes_ standing out
naked over the sandals, or when we read in the family circle and in the
public capacity of teachers and ministers, passages from Scriptures,
such as no one would be capable of reading if they were found in a
periodical or a newspaper.

During my first month on the continent, I was often vexed to think that
much of what I saw, that was not only very interesting and impressive, but
which had likewise an important bearing on history, was of such a nature
that it would either constitute unfit material for general diffusion, or
seem to be incredible to the average reader.

We went down Boulevard (pron. Bool'var') de Magenta about one-third of a
mile, to Boulevard de Strasbourg, (pron. Straws'boor'), thence along that
avenue (?) to the foot of it (another third of a mile) and continued our
walk down Boulevard de Sebastopol to Rue de Rivoli, along which latter
street we went half a mile west, where my friend, guide and teacher
procured for me a room not far from _his_ home.

[W