“And now we ascended the hills overlooking Paris; and then we descended to the plain, and gratified the eye in viewing the rich market gardens, and the conservatories of choice and rare flowers, cultured carefully for the tri-weekly markets on the esplanade de la Madeleine and the Château d’Eau. Again ascending the hill, we entered a café together, and together partook of some frozen coffee and other ices, after which he took me to see a guinguette--or tea garden--lately established for the common people, where the customer for ten sous might ape royalty, and sip his coffee from silver cups, and take his wine from Sèvres porcelain. Here we both talked to the proprietor concerning the novelty of his enterprise, and made inquiries as to whether his customers--who were all of the lower classes of society--did not bear a great deal of watching, and whether they did not now and then run off with a few silver spoons, a chased goblet, or a silver-gilt fruit dish? “‘No,’ replied the man, ‘I have seen enough of life and mankind to warrant the step, apparently foolish, certainly quite novel, which I have taken; and I have found out that, treat a man as if you regarded him a thief, and you do much toward making him one. Watch a man closely, and you that instant suggest rascally thoughts to him, which may bear fruit, and that fruit be crime. But place full and free confidence in those you deal with, and let the fact be known, and your conduct sanction your words, and take my word for it, your confidence will very rarely be abused, if at all. My place is the resort of thousands; my invested capital is large, yet I have never lost ten francs from the costly experiment of making the poor man realize the comforts and habits of the rich at the expense of ten sous.’ “We could but admire the tact of Monsieur Popinarde, and frankly told him so as we left his place, for we felt that there was a rich vein of truth at the bottom of his philosophy of confidence, as he chose to call it. After leaving this place, Ravalette and myself, still arm in arm, pursued our walk in the environs of Belleville, and there, amidst the sweet music of nature, the melody of the sunshine, the warblings of birds, the quietude of the deep green canopy of leaves, the humming of distant sounds, and the serenity of unruffled spirits, we entered upon the discussion of a topic of singular interest. That topic was, ‘The human soul, and its resources.’ I shall only record the latter part of this conversation. Said the old gentleman-- “‘Then you really believe, as did a very ancient society of philosophers, known to some students of the past as the Sacred Twenty-four, that there is a kind of natural magic in existence, far more wonderful in its results than the lamp of Aladdin, or the ring of the Genii?’ “‘Most certainly I do.’