on every leprous patient at St. Ladre in the
faubourg; on brooms, charcoal, oysters, fresh-
water fish; on cakes made upon the eve of the
Epiphany, on dealers in watercresses, on
seafish, and, lastly, on the pigs which at that time
ran about the streets of Paris. He had also a
claim on the clothing of the slain; at first he
was only allowed to take the garments above the
girdle, afterwards he obtained everything they
wore. In certain cities, Orleans, for instance,
the executioner levied a tax on ill-conducted
women, as is proved by a document preserved in
the archives. The monks of St. Martin paid
annually to the executor of high justice, five
loaves and five bottles of wine, for the executions
he performed on their estates. The monks
of St. Geneviève paid him five sols yearly, for
exemption from the right of " havage". On
St. Vincent's Day, the patron of the Abbey of
St. Germain des Prés, the abbot gave him a pig's-
head, and made him walk in the front rank of the
procession. Besides all these rights, the
executioner received a sum of money per execution.

In 1793, the National Convention completely
reformed criminal jurisdiction as far as regarded
executioners: deciding that there should be one,
paid by the state, in every department of the
Republic. The salary of the executioner of
Paris was fixed at ten thousand livres (£400) a
year. Another decree of the 3 Frimaire, Year II.,
contained the singular clause that, as long as
the French government should continue
revolutionary, the executioner of Paris should receive
an annual supplement of three thousand livres.
Truly, it was not at all too much for the harvest
of heads required of him.

Under the Empire and the Restoration, the
situation of executioners remained the same as
the Republic had settled it. In 1832, an ordonnance
of Louis Philippe made very serious
modifications. The number of executioners was
reduced by one-half; and more than one assistant
was allowed in no town except Paris and Rouen.
The Paris executioner's pay was fixed at eight
thousand francs, or three hundred and twenty
pounds, per annum. In 1849, the President of
the Republic still further reduced the number
and the emoluments of the executioners. Letters
patent have dwindled to a simple appointment;
salaries have sunk to wages; and from all these
facts M. Sanson concludes that when employments
of this kind fall off so remarkably, the day
is not distant when they will altogether disappear.

SEA-SIDE EYES.

AN Autumn visit to the sea-side instinctively
leads us to use our eyes in examining the novel
and never-ending variety of natural objects which
are not presented to them during the rest of the
year. The steep cliff, the velvet sand, the
open and pebbly beach, the bold rocks against
which the surges beat, all possess different fields
of interest and distinct animal and vegetable
inhabitants.

Maritime vegetation is comparatively deficient
in luxuriance, and although there are many
plants which thrive under the saline influence of
the sea air, they are generally inferior in the
richness of their colours and their perfume to the
cultivated flowers of the parterre. As we
descend the path down the cliff that leads to the
sea, observe that little plant that seems to court
the breeze. Shakespeare, in describing the dizzy
heights of Dover, has made us acquainted with
it:

                            ———Half way down
Hangs one that gathers samphire, dreadful trade.

On some remote and dangerous coasts it is
still gathered by men who are let down by
ropes, and hang several fathoms below the
impending rocks. Its pale-green fleshy leaves are
still used in certain districts as a favourite pickle;
its flowers are arranged in umbels, and its seed,
which resembles a grain of barley, is wafted and
sown by the wind. The samphire possesses the
property of decomposing sea-water and retaining
the soda, but attempts at its artificial cultiva-
tion have hitherto been unavailing. How graceful
are the motions of the oceanic birds beneath
us; they soar and glide through the air with
scarcely any perceptible movement of their
wings; how buoyant is their flight, how rapid
their descent; they merely skim the surface;
now they close their wings and suddenly dip into
the water, while others breasting it seem at a
distance like floating specks of foam. The eye
must be very keen that, while the bird is floating
in the air, perceives from the distant height the
tiny fish on which it preys, and the wings must
move very quick to enable its feathered enemy
to seize it.

   They clap the sleek white pinion to the breast,
   And in the restless ocean dip for rest.

See that large brown gull; his habits and mode
of existence are singular; he is too lazy to fish
for himself; he accordingly watches the kittywake
— so called from its peculiar cry—and the
other small white gulls, and so soon as he
observes one of them successful in his fishing he
immediately gives chase. He furiously pursues
and attacks the smaller bird, and forces him
from actual fright to disgorge the fish he has
but just seized. They are both voracious, and
they both descend to catch it again; see how
speedy are their motions and how sure their aim,
but the little one has again regained his prize
before it reaches the water, and disappointed his
pursuer. Listen! that's the cry of the wild sea-mew,
whirling and wheeling, and there's the
shrill scream of the curlew, who returns regularly
to feed with the ebbing tide; they are the only
living sounds in the solitude.

We are now upon the sand, which is here dry;
the waves rarely reach this spot. Let us examine
this plant growing wild; it is the sea-kale, but,
unlike the samphire, it bears cultivation in the
garden, and is the delicious vegetable of the
market which we enjoy in the spring. Its treatment
on being reared is somewhat analogous
to that of asparagus, but it differs from that
delicate plant in yielding produce the first spring
after being raised from the seed. In almost