“Paris possesses an immense mass of water, which can be distributed into every quarter and every house. Does the demand multiply with the pipes? Assuredly not, and one might well be surprised to see the negligence and apathy of proprietors in this respect. Some persons adduce the fact to prove that seven litres[12] of water are sufficient for the inhabitants of Paris, whilst sixty are necessary for London, and still more for Edinburgh. But if we look closer to the conduct of the proprietors, we shall find that it proceeds from calculations well understood. It is the certainty that they will have sooner to empty the cesspools which scares them. This operation, and the expense it often brings with it, influences the venal propensities of the proprietors. Is it likely that they will pay for water of which the inevitable result will be to multiply the number of operations they dread the most, and which increase the expense in an enormous proportion? Thus the actual state of our cesspools, and the mode of emptying them now in use, are, in our opinion, the principal causes which prevent individuals from taking the water, and which retard the period in which the city will receive the interest of the enormous sums that it has devoted, and still devotes daily, to the supply of water.” It is to be hoped, however, that the legislature will give the powers and direct the means requisite in this country, to furnish to every city in Europe a practical demonstration that by the art of the engineer, the obstacle to improvement, formed by the great expense and annoyance of removing the refuse of houses and streets may be rendered inconsiderable. In Paris the interests of turbulent bodies of men, the water-carriers, and another class of men called the chiffonniers, who live by raking for what they can find amongst the refuse cast into the streets, are opposed to any change which will reduce the charge of imperfect cleansing, and the disease promoted by filth. The general practice in that metropolis is to cast all the rubbish of the house into the street on the overnight, or before seven o’clock in the morning, when men attend with carts to sweep it up and remove it. In the nighttime, however, the chiffonnier comes with a lantern and rakes amongst the refuse, and picks from it bones, rags, or whatever may have been thrown away by accident, or the carelessness of the servants. The offensive filth of their persons and their occupation, makes them outcasts from other classes of workmen; they sleep amidst their collections of refuse, and they are idle during the day; they are like all men who live under such circumstances, prone to indulgence in ardent spirits; being degraded and savage, they are ready to throw away their wretched lives on every occasion. There are nearly 2000 of the chiffonniers alone in Paris, and they and the water-carriers were conspicuous actors in the revolution of 1830. During the administration