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nobody　kept；　the　streets　that　nobody　trod；　the　churches　that　nobody

went　to；　the　bells　that　nobody　rang；　the　tumble…down　old　buildings

plastered　with　many…coloured　bills　that　nobody　read？　　Where　are　the

two…and…twenty　weary　hours　of　long；　long　day　and　night　journey；

sure　to　be　either　insupportably　hot　or　insupportably　cold？　　Where

are　the　pains　in　my　bones；　where　are　the　fidgets　in　my　legs；　where

is　the　Frenchman　with　the　nightcap　who　never　WOULD　have　the　little

coupe…window　down；　and　who　always　fell　upon　me　when　he　went　to

sleep；　and　always　slept　all　night　snoring　onions？



A　voice　breaks　in　with　'Paris！　　Here　we　are！'



I　have　overflown　myself；　perhaps；　but　I　can't　believe　it。　　I　feel

as　if　I　were　enchanted　or　bewitched。　　It　is　barely　eight　o'clock

yet　…　it　is　nothing　like　half…past　…　when　I　have　had　my　luggage

examined　at　that　briskest　of　Custom…houses　attached　to　the　station；

and　am　rattling　over　the　pavement　in　a　hackney…cabriolet。



Surely；　not　the　pavement　of　Paris？　　Yes；　I　think　it　is；　too。　　I

don't　know　any　other　place　where　there　are　all　these　high　houses；

all　these　haggard…looking　wine　shops；　all　these　billiard　tables；

all　these　stocking…makers　with　flat　red　or　yellow　legs　of　wood　for

signboard；　all　these　fuel　shops　with　stacks　of　billets　painted

outside；　and　real　billets　sawing　in　the　gutter；　all　these　dirty

corners　of　streets；　all　these　cabinet　pictures　over　dark　doorways

representing　discreet　matrons　nursing　babies。　　And　yet　this　morning

…　I'll　think　of　it　in　a　warm…bath。



Very　like　a　small　room　that　I　remember　in　the　Chinese　baths　upon

the　Boulevard；　certainly；　and；　though　I　see　it　through　the　steam；　I

think　that　I　might　swear　to　that　peculiar　hot…linen　basket；　like　a

large　wicker　hour…glass。　　When　can　it　have　been　that　I　left　home？

When　was　it　that　I　paid　'through　to　Paris'　at　London　Bridge；　and

discharged　myself　of　all　responsibility；　except　the　preservation　of

a　voucher　ruled　into　three　divisions；　of　which　the　first　was

snipped　off　at　Folkestone；　the　second　aboard　the　boat；　and　the

third　taken　at　my　journey's　end？　　It　seems　to　have　been　ages　ago。

Calculation　is　useless。　　I　will　go　out　for　a　walk。



The　crowds　in　the　streets；　the　lights　in　the　shops　and　balconies；

the　elegance；　variety；　and　beauty　of　their　decorations；　the　number

of　the　theatres；　the　brilliant　cafes　with　their　windows　thrown　up

high　and　their　vivacious　groups　at　little　tables　on　the　pavement；

the　light　and　glitter　of　the　houses　turned　as　it　were　inside　out；

soon　convince　me　that　it　is　no　dream；　that　I　am　in　Paris；　howsoever

I　got　there。　　I　stroll　down　to　the　sparkling　Palais　Royal；　up　the

Rue　de　Rivoli；　to　the　Place　Vendome。　　As　I　glance　into　a　print…shop

window；　Monied　Interest；　my　late　travelling　companion；　comes　upon

me；　laughing　with　the　highest　relish　of　disdain。　　'Here's　a

people！'　he　says；　pointing　to　Napoleon　in　the　window　and　Napoleon

on　the　column。　　'Only　one　idea　all　over　Paris！　　A　monomania！'

Humph！　　I　THINK　I　have　seen　Napoleon's　match？　　There　was　a　statue；

when　I　came　away；　at　Hyde　Park　Corner；　and　another　in　the　City；　and

a　print　or　two　in　the　shops。



I　walk　up　to　the　Barriere　de　l'Etoile；　sufficiently　dazed　by　my

flight　to　have　a　pleasant　doubt　of　the　reality　of　everything　about

me；　of　the　lively　crowd；　the　overhanging　trees；　the　performing

dogs；　the　hobby…horses；　the　beautiful　perspectives　of　shining

lamps：　the　hundred　and　one　enclosures；　where　the　singing　is；　in

gleaming　orchestras　of　azure　and　gold；　and　where　a　star…eyed　Houri

comes　round　with　a　box　for　voluntary　offerings。　　So；　I　pass　to　my

hotel；　enchanted；　sup；　enchanted；　go　to　bed；　enchanted；　pushing

back　this　morning　（if　it　really　were　this　morning）　into　the

remoteness　of　time；　blessing　the　South…Eastern　Company　for

realising　the　Arabian　Nights　in　these　prose　days；　murmuring；　as　I

wing　my　idle　flight　into　the　land　of　dreams；　'No　hurry；　ladies　and

gentlemen；　going　to　Paris　in　eleven　hours。　　It　is　so　well　done；

that　there　really　is　no　hurry！'







THE　DETECTIVE　POLICE







WE　are　not　by　any　means　devout　believers　in　the　old　Bow　Street

Police。　　To　say　the　truth；　we　think　there　was　a　vast　amount　of

humbug　about　those　worthies。　　Apart　from　many　of　them　being　men　of

very　indifferent　character；　and　far　too　much　in　the　habit　of

consorting　with　thieves　and　the　like；　they　never　lost　a　public

occasion　of　jobbing　and　trading　in　mystery　and　making　the　most　of

themselves。　　Continually　puffed　besides　by　incompetent　magistrates

anxious　to　conceal　their　own　deficiencies；　and　hand…in…glove　with

the　penny…a…liners　of　that　time；　they　became　a　sort　of

superstition。　　Although　as　a　Preventive　Police　they　were　utterly

ineffective；　and　as　a　Detective　Police　were　very　loose　and

uncertain　in　their　operations；　they　remain　with　some　people　a

superstition　to　the　present　day。



On　the　other　hand；　the　Detective　Force　organised　since　the

establishment　of　the　existing　Police；　is　so　well　chosen　and

trained；　proceeds　so　systematically　and　quietly；　does　its　business

in　such　a　workmanlike　manner；　and　is　always　so　calmly　and　steadily

engaged　in　the　service　of　the　public；　that　the　public　really　do　not

know　enough　of　it；　to　know　a　tithe　of　its　usefulness。　　Impressed

with　this　conviction；　and　interested　in　the　men　themselves；　we

represented　to　the　authorities　at　Scotland　Yard；　that　we　should　be

glad；　if　there　were　no　official　objection；　to　have　some　talk　with

the　Detectives。　　A　most　obliging　and　ready　permission　being　given；

a　certain　evening　was　appointed　with　a　certain　Inspector　for　a

social　conference　between　ourselves　and　the　Detectives；　at　The

Household　Words　Office　in　Wellington　Street；　Strand；　London。　　In

consequence　of　which　appointment　the　party　'came　off；'　which　we　are

about　to　describe。　　And　we　beg　to　repeat　that；　avoiding　such　topics

as　it　might　for　obvious　reasons　be　injurious　to　the　public；　or

disagreeable　to　respectable　individuals；　to　touch　upon　in　print；

our　description　is　as　exact　as　we　can　make　it。



The　reader　will　have　the　goodness　to　imagine　the　Sanctum　Sanctorum

of　Household　Words。　　Anything　that　best　suits　the　reader's　fancy；

will　best　represent　that　magnificent　chamber。　　We　merely　stipulate

for　a　round　table　in　the　middle；　with　some　glasses　and　cigars

arranged　upon　it；　and　the　editorial　sofa　elegantly　hemmed　in

between　that　stately　piece　of　furniture　and　the　wall。



It　is　a　sultry　evening　at　dusk。　　The　stones　of　Wellington　Street

are　hot　and　gritty；　and　the　watermen　and　hackney…coachmen　at　the

Theatre　opposite；　are　much　flushed　and　aggravated。　　Carriages　are

constantly　setting　down　the　people　who　have　come　to　Fairy…Land；　and

there　is　a　mighty　shouting　and　bellowing　every　now　and　then；

deafening　us　for　the　moment；　through　the　open　windows。



Just　at　dusk；　Inspectors　Wield　and　Stalker　are　announced；　but　we　do

not　undertake　to　warrant　the　orthography　of　any　of　the　names　here

mentioned。　　Inspector　Wield　presents　Inspector　Stalker。　　Inspector

Wield　is　a　middle…aged　man　of　a　portly　presence；　with　a　large；

moist；　knowing　eye；　a　husky　voice；　and　a　habit　of　emphasising　his

conversation　by　the　aid　of　a　corpulent　fore…finger；　which　is

constantly　in　juxtaposition　with　his　eyes　or　nose。　　Inspector

Stalker　is　a　shrewd；　hard…headed　Scotchman　…　in　appearance　not　at

all　unlike　a　very　acute；　thoroughly…trained　schoolmaster；　from　the

Normal　Establishment　at　Glasgow。　　Inspector　Wield　one　might　have

known；　perhaps；　for　what　he　is　…　Inspector　Stalker；　never。



The　ceremonies　of　reception　over；　Inspectors　Wield　and　Stalker

observe　that　they　have　brought　some　sergeants　with　them。　　The

sergeants　are　presented　…　five　in　number；　Sergeant　Dornton；

Sergeant　Witchem；　Sergeant　Mith；　Sergeant　Fendall；　and　Sergeant

Straw。　　We　have　the　whole　Detective　Force　from　Scotland　Yard；　with

one　exception。　　They　sit　down　in　a　semi…circle　（the　two　Inspectors

at　the　two　ends）　at　a　little　distance　from　the　round　table；　facing

the　editorial　sofa。　　Every　man　of　them；　in　a　glance；　immediately

takes　an　inventory　of　the　furniture　and　an　accurate　sketch　of　the

editorial　presence。　　The　Editor　feels　that　any　gentleman　in　company

could　take　him　up；　if　need　should　be；　without　the　smallest

hesitation；　twenty　years　hence。



The　whole　party　are　in　plain　clothes。　　Sergeant　Dornton　about　fifty

years　of　age；　with　a　ruddy　face　and　a　high　sunburnt　forehead；　has

the　air　of　one　who　has　been　a　Sergeant　in　the　army　…　he　might　have

sat　to　Wilkie　for　the　Soldier　in　the　Reading　of　the　Will。　　He　is

famous　for　steadily　pursuing　the　inductive　process；　and；　from　small

beginnings；　working　on　from　clue　to　clue　until　he　bags　his　man。

Sergeant　Witchem；　shorter　and　thicker…set；　and　marked　with　the

small…pox；　has　something　of　a　reserved　and　thoughtful　air；　as　if　he

were　engaged　in　deep　arithmetical　calculations。　　He　is　renowned　for

his　acquaintance　with　the　swell　mob。　　Sergeant　Mith；　a　smooth…faced

man　with　a　fresh　bright　complexion；　and　a　strange　air　of

simplicity；　is　a　dab　at　housebreakers。　　Sergeant　Fendall；　a　light…

haired；　well…spoken；　polite　person；　is　a　prodigious　hand　at

pursuing　private　inquiries　of　a　delicate　nature。　　Straw；　a　little

wiry　Sergeant　of　meek　demeanour　and　strong　sense；　would　knock　at　a

door　and　ask　a　series　of　questions　in　any　mild　character　you　choose

to　prescribe　to　him；　from　a　charity…boy　upwards；　and　seem　as

innocent　as　an　infant。　　They　are；　one　and　all；　respectable…looking

men；　of　perfectly　good　deportment　and　unusual　intelligence；　with

nothing　lounging　or　slinking　in　their　manners；　with　an　air　of　keen

observation　and　quick　perception　when　addressed；　and　generally

presenting　in　their　faces；　traces　more　or　less　marked　of　habitually

leading　lives　of　strong　mental　excitement。　　They　have　all　good

eyes；　and　they　all　can；　and　they　all　do；　look　full　at　whomsoever

they　speak　to。



We　light　the　cigars；　and　hand　round　the　glasses　（which　are　very

temperately　used