FORMER GAMBLING.
Gambling houses, formerly so perniciously abundant in Paris, have been rigorously suppressed by the government for a considerable time past. High play is carried on still in various phases of society, but as it is furtive and illicit, its dupes and victims are very limited compared with the thousands who were ruined when the vice was tolerated by the public authorities. The Palais Royal was, about forty years ago, the head-quarters of Parisian gaming, and every season produced a crop of suicides. The usual course was for the ruined gamester to pledge or sell his watch or trinkets, buy a pistol at a gunmaker's shop in the piazza, charge it, cross the rails into the parterre, and blow out his brains; but such incidents did not stop the play; they merely produced a few shrugs of the shoulders, and the observation, "His game is up."
There is an old gentleman in Dublin who resides so near my house that I see him almost every day. About the time to which I refer, he was in the confidential employment of a most respectable firm of solicitors, and one morning he was apprised by the senior partner that it was intended to send him to Paris, to have certain deeds executed. He was to be allowed liberally for his expenses, and to be permitted, as a reward for his previous good conduct, to spend ten days or a fortnight in the French metropolis. He arrived in Paris at night, arose early next morning, and betook himself at once to the business with which he was entrusted. He was so fortunate as to find all the required parties, and in a few hours had all the deeds perfected. He then went off in quest of amusement, and having met an acquaintance, was ultimately brought to the Palais Royal, and entered one of the principal gaming-houses. He looked on for a while, and then ventured a stake of a few gold pieces; he won, tried again, and was successful. He continued to play with such good fortune, that at the termination of the sitting, he had won upwards of one thousand pounds. He went to his hotel, took some rest, paid his bill, and set off with all haste for Dublin. His employers were surprised at his speedy return, and he told them what had occurred, adding that he would not trust himself another night in Paris. His was a solitary instance of good luck and prudence; for with thousands of others a similar gain would have only been the precursor of final and irretrievable ruin.
AN ASSAULT.
At the suggestion of an intimate friend, who was in Paris during the time of my residence there, I shall mention an incident of an extraordinary and very disagreeable nature, arising entirely from an expression used by me to a young woman possessed of considerable personal attractions, but also having a most fearful and ungovernable temper, without the least intention on my part to excite her feelings. I went into a shop in the Champs Elysées, to purchase some stationery, snuff, postage stamps, &c., and was supplied by the young woman, to whom I handed a twenty franc gold piece for her to take four francs and give me the change. Belgium silver coins were at the time very freely circulated; but Swiss silver was considered to be alloyed most unreasonably, and when recognised was invariably rejected. The damsel gave me eight pieces, each of two francs, and I observed that on two of them the Helvetian or Swiss designation was impressed. I immediately remarked that Mademoiselle had been subjected to a Swiss deception, (une tromperié Suisse,) when she exclaimed, "Accursed Englishman, you are a liar," at the same time throwing a heavy canister at me, knocking off my hat, and following up that hostile proceeding by flinging a flask of oil in the same direction. The latter did not strike me, but broke a large square of glass in a side window looking into the Rue de l'Oratoire. Her brother-in-law, who was proprietor of the concern, seized her, and prevented any further violence; but the abusive language continued for some minutes. Finally I succeeded in getting the Swiss silver replaced by two pieces of French coinage, and left after declaring my intention to prosecute my assailant. The proprietor contented himself by declaring that the affair was a mere "mistake;" and he certainly seemed more annoyed by having his window smashed than by the misconduct evinced towards me. Subsequently I was informed that the young woman had been engaged in some courtship or amatory correspondence with a Swiss, who had terminated the affair by an abrupt departure without any previous notice. The angry damsel referred my expression, not to the money, but to the man, and I relinquished any attempt to make her responsible for the treatment I had received in consequence of her hasty "mistake."
FRENCH CHARITY.
In the foregoing observations I have not hesitated to refer to some faults, vanities, and unreasonable expectations which attracted my attention during my residence in Paris. I shall now offer a few remarks and a little narrative connected with one of the noblest virtues that can elevate and adorn human nature, and which I believe to exist in the French character to a degree far beyond what would be imagined by the travellers whose brief visits enable them to take only transient or superficial views of French society. There is no civilized nation more charitable than the French. They have no legalised and established system of poor laws, but their cities abound with benevolent institutions, and the requirements of helpless age or unprotected infancy are never disregarded. There is no lack of charity in any class—even the rag-pickers will share their slender means in alleviating human suffering. Amongst the more affluent there is very little mediocrity of religious feeling; they are generally devout or indifferent, but very few are uncharitable. The means of relief for the suffering of indigence are almost always administered through religious agencies; and the mercy that is manifested in a generous and unostentatious succour of the poor, exemplifies very frequently the words of Shakespeare—
"It blesseth him that gives and him that takes."
For many of those who were indifferent to religion, but disposed to charity, have been themselves caught, reformed, and reconciled through the energies which they employed for relieving the necessities of others.