[Paris—Sunday, 1 January 1860]

Sunday 1st of January 1860. The air is mild and the grass green like early spring. The streets are overflowing with half crazed people. We attended Mass at the “Madeleine” and on the way were literally beset by beggars. It is one of the very few days when they are allowed to ask alms in Paris. Coming from the church we walked until we were very tired looking for a cab at last when all hope seemed extinct one came in sight. We jumped in and drove to Père la Chaise. A great cause for questionning was there at last settled. Père la Chaise was one of the fathers of the church in the time of Louis 14th. He left his chapel and gardens as a cemetery to the city of Paris and lies here himself buried in the midst. We visited first the tomb of Rachel. It was covered still with fresh flowers and visiting cards painful and pathetic in the extreme. Afterward to the tomb of the immortal lovers. Alas! for France it is always covered with the blossoms brought there by the hands of those as unhappy as themselves. These lives & this tomb which I had always thought upon with tears I turned away from with a deeper pang of sorrow and dismay. Will the glitter of gold and the death-shadow of the material cross never cease to dazzle and obscure the eyes of this French people? Yes I believe it, but the mysteries of the Eternal government are inscrutable. The tomb of Ney covered with flowers but without a monument was its own most touching record. Too tired to go to Mrs Greene’s; obliged to write an excuse.

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