the large cities, we are struck with numbers
of idle young men and women who are seen in the streets. Now that the
army no longer carries away the "surplus population of France," (to use
the language of Bonaparte), the number of these idlers is greatly
increased. The great manufacturing concerns have long ceased to employ
them. France is too poor to continue the public works which Napoleon had
every where begun. The French have no money for the improvement of their
estates, the repair of their houses, or the encouragement of the
numerous trades and professions which thrive by the costly taste and
ever-varying fashion of a luxurious and rich community. Being on the
subject of taste and fashion, I must not forget that I noticed the dress
and amusements of the French as offering a mark of their poverty. The
great meanness of their dress must particularly strike every English
traveller; for I believe there is no country in the world where all
ranks of people are so well dressed as in England. It is not indeed
astonishing to see the nobility, the gentry, and those of the liberal
professions well clothed, but to see every tradesman, and every
tradesman's apprentice, wearing the same clothes as the higher orders;
to see every servant as well, if not better clothed than his master,
affords a clear proof of the riches of a country. In the higher ranks
among the French, a gentleman has indeed a good suit of clothes, but
these are kept for wearing in the evening on the promenade, or at a
party. In the morning, clothes of the coarsest texture, and often much
worn, or even ragged, are put on. If you pay a lady or gentleman a
morning visit, you find them so metamorphosed as scarcely to be known;
the men in dirty coarse cloth great coats, wide sackcloth trowsers and
slippers; the women in coarse calico wrappers, with a coloured
handkerchief tied round their hair. All the little gaudy finery they
possess is kept for the evening, but even then there is nothing either
costly or elegant, or neat, as with us. In their amusements also is the
poverty of the people manifested. A person residing in Paris, and who
had travelled no further, would think that this observation was unjust,
for in Paris there is no want of amusements; the theatres are numerous,
and all other species of entertainment are to be found. But in the
smaller towns, one little dirty theatre, ill lighted, with ragged
scenery, dresses, and a beggarly company of players, is all