The well-to-do people, the retired tradesmen, the lawyers and notaries, all those of the little easy-going, ambitious world that inhabits the new town, endeavour to infuse some liveliness into Plassans.  They go to the parties given by the sub-prefect, and dream of giving similar entertainments.  They eagerly seek popularity, call a workman “my good fellow,” chat with the peasants about the harvest, read the papers, and walk out with their wives on Sundays.  Theirs are the enlightened minds of the district, they are the only persons who venture to speak disparagingly of the ramparts; in fact, they have several times demanded of the authorities the demolition of those old walls, relics of a former age.  At the same time, the most sceptical among them experience a shock of delight whenever a marquis or a count deigns to honour them with a stiff salutation.  Indeed, the dream of every citizen of the new town is to be admitted to a drawing-room of the Saint-Marc quarter.  They know very well that their ambition is not attainable, and it is this which makes them proclaim all the louder that they are freethinkers.  But they are freethinkers in words only; firm friends of the authorities, they are ready to rush into the arms of the first deliverer at the slightest indication of popular discontent.

The group which toils and vegetates in the old quarter is not so clearly defined as the others.  The labouring classes are here in a majority; but retail dealers and even a few wholesale traders are to be found among them.  As a matter of fact, Plassans is far from being a commercial centre; there is only just sufficient trade to dispose of the products of the country—­oil, wine, and almonds.  As for industrial labour, it is represented almost entirely by three or four evil-smelling tanyards, a felt hat manufactory, and some soap-boiling works, which last are relegated to a corner of the Faubourg.  This little commercial and industrial world, though it may on high days and holidays visit the people of the new district, generally takes up its quarters among the operatives of the old town.  Merchants, retail traders, and artisans have common interests which unite them together.  On Sundays only, the masters make themselves spruce and foregather apart.  On the other hand, the labouring classes, which constitute scarcely a fifth of the population, mingle with the idlers of the district.

It is only once a week, and during the fine weather, that the three districts of Plassans come together face to face.  The whole town repairs to the Cours Sauvaire on Sunday after vespers; even the nobility venture thither.  Three distinct currents flow along this sort of boulevard planted with rows of plane-trees.  The well-to-do citizens of the new quarter merely pass along before quitting the town by the Grand’-Porte and taking the Avenue du Mail on the right, where they walk up and down till nightfall.  Meantime, the nobility and the lower classes share the Cours Sauvaire between them.