Paris during the winter; she is off to Switzerland in a few days. The French say we have spoilt her--in fact, she occupies little of the public attention in Paris. The next event most interesting was our visit to the Corps Législatif, or House of Commons. We went to a certain door, to which we were refused admittance, and told it was too full or too late. But said I, "Nous sommes Anglois"; in an instant a man came up and placed us in an inner gallery in the body of the house. The House is something like the Royal Institution--of course larger and beautifully fitted up. Considering it as the Royal Institution for your better comprehension, the President sits on a tribunal throne in a recess corresponding to the fire-place; immediately below is a sort of Rostrum from whence the Members speak, in situation like the lecturer of the R.I. In point of decoration and external appearance both of house and members, it is far superior to our House of Commons, as all the members wear uniforms of blue and gold, but taking it all together I know not that anything can be more illustrative of the French Character--externally all correct and delightful, but within "a sad rottenness of the state of Denmark." The president began the proceedings by ringing a bell; a paper was then read detailing, I believe, the orders of the day. A member then arose and went to the Rostrum. In the middle of his speech he was called to order and told it was a very bad speech, so down he came and another mounted. He was equally disliked, for they told him he spoke too low and they could not hear him, so he disappeared; then half a dozen got up and were so impatient that they began speaking altogether before they reached the Tribune. In vain did the President ring his bell, and stand up and gesticulate. Silence, however, was at length obtained, and he addressed them, but with little better success than the rest. One man then stept forward and did obtain a hearing, for he had good lungs and a fair share of eloquence. His speech was short, but it was by far the best; his name was Dumolard.[56] Soon afterwards the sitting broke up; the whole took up little more than an hour. I know not whether the perfect want of order was more ridiculous or disgusting; the sittings of the Senate (Peers) are private....