I observed several females engaged very profitably in needle work and embroidery. What little emoluments they acquire by their industry supply them with pocket-money. The men pass their time in reading, walking in the neighbouring fields or in the garden. I observed they were usually less active than the women, but much more devout. I met an old Abbé whose whole time is spent in reading his breviary, missal and other religious books. His library was composed of about 200 volumes. Another, about seventy-four years of age, had seen much of the world. His manners were prepossessing, and his conversation proved him a man who lived for others rather than himself. He was pious without austerity, cheerful without dissipation, and polite without frivolity. He had seen better days, and been one of those sufferers whom the Revolution had plundered and proscribed on account of his attachment to religion. He never spoke with the least asperity of what had happened, he only shrugged his shoulders and smiled contemptuously at the miserable efforts of his countrymen to establish liberty and equality. He was well read in French literature and fond of astronomy. But his favourite books were a Bible and Don Quixote, Cervantes being an author to whom he was especially partial. Just as we were sitting down to dinner one of the old gentlemen entered, and with great vivacity, informed Monsieur Duchaillot he proposed going to the play. On inquiry, I found he had been an amateur of music; and that at seventy-two years of age his taste for it was still so predominant that he was about to avail himself of a ticket a friend had sent him to see the second representation of Poesiello’s _Zingari in Flora_, at the Opera Buffa. I have entered into these details to show that there is no restriction on their amusements, and that they are entirely their own master. Upon the whole, I observed that they were all more or less engaged in religious exercises. At that period of life when mind and body require repose, when it is necessary old age should “walk pensive on the silent solemn shore of that vast ocean it must sail so soon,” what can be more consolatory than a retreat where wants are supplied and infirmities alleviated without reluctance or repining? It has been alleged against most governments of Europe that there is nothing seen but youth going to the gallows, and old age to the workhouse. A government is no more responsible for the misfortunes than for the crimes of its subjects, and all that can be expected is that it should give a proper direction to charitable provisions, and guard them with the sacred sanction of the law. It will be found a true maxim of public economy that these charitable institutions should spring from the natural sympathy of mankind--nothing is needful for government than to see that they are administered honestly.