hair on his forehead, that he had had the honour of becoming quite wet by perspiring in our service, and entreated to have a franc more, which Mr. D. gave him. It was late when we arrived at Abbeville, and we were too much fatigued to seek for adventures, yet I could not help thinking of them as I looked out of my window. The church-bells tolled "the hour of night's black arch the key-stone." The guards on the walls challenged each other-now and then a flash of lightning played strangely on the skirt of a dark cloud, yet overhead the moon shone brightly.

The following day was like all those which have passed since I left you, sunny and pleasant. When we stopped to breakfast we entered into conversation with two Italian gentlemen on their return from England. One of them was addressed as general. One of the carbonari or illuminati gentlemen, I suppose, for he told me he had had a great deal of trouble and vexation about his passport in France, and in other countries, but not in England-certainly England is kind to all radicals except her own,-he entreated me to visit Italy, and said he would give me letters of introduction to three married daughters of his, at Genoa, Milan, Padua. At this moment I feel as if I were far enough from you, and have no wish to extend my travels, but there have been times when the idea of visiting Italy would have delighted me. But one has no conception until one is in a foreign land alone what a terrible feeling is that of being so far from home, being quite among strangers. We cannot help wishing to see those places which are famous in history, and there must be pleasure in the gratification of our wish; yet after all, travelling is, I begin to suspect, a finer thing in imagination than in reality.

The journey of our last day was more slow and more wearisome than that of any of the other days had been. The weather was however still fine, and we all acknowledged that we found the horses, the roads, the country, much better than we had expected, and could we have been fresh and untired

we should have enjoyed every thing very much. At nine o'clock in the evening we arrived in this great city. It was then too late for me to think of going to Madame B.'s, so I went to the hotel which Mr. D. had been induced to patronise. We were shown into a room ornamented by six large mirrors, but it had a terribly dirty floor. The host was playing whist with one person-two dumbies consequently: a step farther than I have ever seen the love of whist carried in England. When we entered, however, he immediately put up his cards and set about ordering our tea. After we had inspected our sleeping rooms, I returned to that in which we were to have tea, but my friends had not yet descended, and there was no one there but the host-how different from an English host!— he would not permit a foreign young lady to remain without some amusement, and began to give me all the information in his power. As a Frenchman, information about himself naturally followed that about his hotel, so he kindly told me that he had lately been very ill, but was now very well, having had an operation performed for out with it, for it is a trait of manners-for the stone; and lest I should make any mistake in what he said, which indeed, at first I did, he translated it into English, which he speaks perfectly, having been many years in America. I was glad when my friends' and tea came, and this good gentleman retired.

,

To-day, my eyes opened to my first day in Paris. It was a lovely morning, and after the W.'s had driven off to the Faubourg St. Germain, I preferred walking with Mr. D. to Madame B.'s, that I might see a little of the city. Mine host seemed very much chagrined at my orders to send my trunks to Madame B.'s, and at the announcement of my speedy departure. He assured me that I should be much better in his house than in any boarding-school, that I should meet a nice party at the table d'hôte, and that Madame, his wife, would accompany me in some delightful walks. In spite of all, I begged to decline his favours. I enjoyed my walk very much, and at Madame B.'s at one o'clock took leave of kind

Mr. D.

Madame was out but I was quite expected, and one of her daughters and the old governess (whom I wish I could describe but that is impossible) received me, and were very polite. However, all I wished was to be alone, and I retired to my room, where I began this long epistle. At four I had the pleasure of meeting Madame B. whom I like very much; and at five I obeyed a summons to the dining-room. How I was thunderstruck on entering it! Every tongue in it—and there were about five-and-forty tongues-was going at double time! I remembered the perfect silence of an English boarding-school dinner, sighed, sat down, and tried to eat as well as the noise would permit me. After dinner all the family,—there are two grown-up daughters, and the parlour boarders, about half-a-dozen,—ascended to the saloon; the pupils returned of course to their school-rooms. In the course of the evening a few gentlemen dropped in, and there was no intermission of conversation for a moment. At nine we had tea, and before ten I, sad and sorrowful, retired to my room with borrowed night-dress,-for mine host has not sent my trunks, although I despatched a note about them this evening. Now I have given you my history since I left you, and when you read it pray be at ease; I am quite well and quite safe; the sadness which has crept over me more than once during the day, I attribute to the new feeling of being deprived at once of my mother tongue, it is not finding my own language in any one near me which makes me feel so much alone, for indeed every one is kind and I have really nothing to complain of. I understand all that is addressed to myself in French, but I do not yet catch a rapid conversation between other persons, yet I speak so well that they will scarcely believe I have not been in France before. It is, I believe, true that the tongue learns a foreign language sooner than the ear.

But no more-now to bed in my new abode. Good night -good night!

FIRST BOARDING SCHOOL.

MY DEAR MOTHER,

LETTER II.

Paris, February 26, 183-.

Thank you for your letter which came so soon, before you had had mine, but now you have had it and are contented about me, and now I shall go back and tell you something of my first week here. I went very soon to deliver my letter to Mrs. E., she lives very near the Place Vendôme, which is the best part of Paris, the quarter of the Tuileries, the court or west end. If she be not in great affluence, she is at least in perfect independence, and a widow with one daughter might be contented with her income in England, in France she can be more than contented, can be very gay. She is too much of the woman of the world, and of the frivolous kind of that species, which admits of many varieties. Her apartment is handsome though on a fourth story, and I shall describe it to you, as it will give you an idea of a French house, or flat as it is called in Scotland. You enter a little anteroom, which has in it three folding-doors, one of them leading to a drawing-room, another to a dining-room, another to a bed-room. Within these rooms are other bed-rooms with dressing closets; and at the other side are kitchens and servants' rooms, all of a good size-in fact there is every conveniency of a house on each floor (and there are six floors) of that one house. The rents for an apartment in that part of Paris vary from 2,000 francs to 10,000; that is, from about £80 to £400. After some conversation, Mrs. E. proposed taking me with her to the Louvre, to see the exhibition of

the works of living artists, at present open by ticket; but in general the gallery is open to every one. I know nothing of the cant of criticism, but I have an idea of what pleases myself, and to say the truth there was little that pleased me. From the Louvre we passed into the gardens of the Tuileries, and I had my first view of the palace. It seems to me the height of absurdity for the French to intend to do without a king. What! with such palaces as theirs? Nonsense! The bait is too tempting. A Washington might have resisted it, a Napoleon could not; although he had seen the grand staircase of that palace of the Tuileries stained from top to bottom with blood. Yes, it ran red with blood, he has himself declared! And could one bearing the name of Bourbon resist what he could not resist ?—“ A question not to be asked." Some Louis, Charles, Philippe, or Henri will cling to the nation as long as those gorgeous palaces remain. sage reflections I separated from Mrs. E., and Madame B.'s in time to hear the dinner-bell.

With these

returned to

In the evening a young gentleman presented himself in the saloon, to give Madame B. some account of a son, whom she has in a distant province. He staid till ten o'clock, and I was much amused by his talk on politics. His contempt for Louis-Philippe and his ministers was unbounded, and expressed in the most vehement terms; in short, he was a republican to the extremest degree of republicanism; and, from what I can learn, so are the young men generally. The ladies all agreed, when he departed, that he had une belle áme, and that he was exceedingly well-informed.

I must tell you that I like the B.'s very well for so far; but what I do not think I shall ever like in French society is, the great and noisy vivacity of the conversation; it suits not my temperament, or at least suits not my long habitudes of a book, or an occasional word with you in our quiet evenings at home. On the Wednesday and Sunday evenings, the young ones of the school-room come into the saloon, and pass the time merrily in chatting, and singing, and dancing to the