widens, lose sight of Old England, and passing here and there a gallant ship, with its snowy sails catching, fortunately for us, but a gentle balmy breeze, we near the other—once hostile, now friendly—shore, and landing find ourselves among a foreign race, and gazing upon foreign habitations, and soon encountering foreign customs and institutions. * * * * * We made the mistake of registering our luggage at London when we left London, instead of taking it on with us to Folkestone and registering it there for Paris. The consequence was that, on arrival of the train at Paris, we were compelled to wait nearly an hour at the station, which was cold, dark, and drafty, until all the luggage which had come by the train by which we had arrived had been arranged, examined by the _douaniers_, and delivered to their owners. We disconsolately saw our luggage standing within a barred enclosure, but the men would on no account touch it till then, and no doubt where thieves abound some precaution of this kind is needful. We had repeatedly visited Paris before, but in one respect it was new to us—to see it in its wintry aspect. On former occasions, we had visited it in the sunshine of summer. But how changed did it look now! The trees were yellow with the tints of autumn, and were nearly stripped of their foliage. The air was cold and frosty, and Paris looked bleak and miserable. We spent one or two days in it; and one of the places to which we paid a visit was beyond the range of ordinary sight–seeing. The daughters of some Edinburgh friends were at a large boarding–school in Paris, in the Faubourg d’Auteuil. We drove there to see them, and after some search discovered the establishment, the name of which, ‘Une Institution des Demoiselles,’ was painted up in letters a yard high. It had quite a conventual aspect. The house was entered through a narrow little door, hinged on a panel of a large one (just like what one sees in the large door of a prison), which, upon ringing the bell, was opened by a pull from the opposite side of the court–yard, around which the buildings of the school were placed. Crossing to the dwelling–house, we were shown into a parlour, where our young friends shortly came to us. They were all habited in black, with a red leather belt, being the uniform compulsory on all the pupils while in school. They informed us there were 150 boarders, of whom only 17 were English. Having introduced us to one of the governesses, this lady very kindly showed us all over the place. Ranges of large rooms were occupied as bedrooms, containing a separate bed for each of the young ladies—all kept in the highest order, and in white, spotless purity. Separate adjoining rooms were fitted up as lavatories. Other rooms were schoolrooms; others, dining–rooms, or _salles à manger_, where the young people were then at lunch or early dinner, and evidently enjoying a hearty meal. A separate building was kept as an