The reigning scandal of the day is the affair of the Convent of Picpus. So highly roused has public indignation been by the supposed discovery of atrocities committed within those jealous walls that the people have been peremptorily excluded until the investigations of justice shall be complete. I managed, however, to penetrate within the precincts by attaching myself to the _cortege_ of an English friend, who was journeying thither under special official orders, to investigate the case of an English Sister named Garret. In the Rue de Picpus, near Mazas prison, stand two large buildings, each surrounded by high walls, above which may be seen green trees at intervals. The one is an establishment of the Jesuites; the other the Convent of the White Nuns. The Jesuites Brothers escaped at the first sign of approaching danger, but the Sisters held their own until forced into cabs and conveyed to the cells of St. Lazare, there to await the results of a judicial inquiry into certain matters that are deemed suspicious. Arrived at the gate of the Convent, we were obliged to force our way through a crowd of angry people who demanded instant permission to enter, and who were as persistently swept back by a group of National Guards--we, however, being admitted inside the door under cover of the official pass and signatures. In the court-yard, under the shade of some fine trees, a few Guards were playing bowls in the Jesuit's alley, and making up to one of them, whose cap displayed tokens of authority, we mentioned our business, and begged permission to see what was to be seen. Our friend was very civil, accepted a cigar, and marched us off to go the rounds. He pointed out to us the fact, of which there certainly could exist no kind of doubt, that the two buildings communicated one with the other, by means of an old door which still exists at the back of a stable, as well as by other apertures in the garden wall, which show signs of having been recently closed up. The Jesuit's garden is a most beautiful one, occupying a space of some 12 acres, laid out with care and furnished with fruit trees of every description, pruned and trained after the latest horticultural designs. There are wondrously ingenious plans, too, for irrigating the beds, forcing pits and hothouses, and long alleys with vines trained over them. Through the old door above mentioned we passed into the Sister's garden, equally large and beautiful, though not kept with the same care. In the centre stands a gymnasium, I suppose for the use of the children brought up under the Sisters' care, and further is their cemetery, a lovely spot, where, under the heavy shade of ancient cypresses, lie bearers of some of the most ancient names in France--"Prince of Salm-Kyrbourg, immolated under the Terror, aged 49;" "Rochefoucauld," "De Noailles," "Montmorency," "the great Lafayette," the whole family of the Talleyrand-Perigords, and legions of Princes and Princesses. Some of the vaults have been opened,