speedily came to the conviction that "over the
way" meant a considerable way up or down the
Strand, on the opposite side; and accordingly
I crossed over, and began to walk along, staring
up at every house I passed. No external
signs assisted me in the least, and I arrived
at the crossing leading to Holywell Street.
I then turned back, and proceeded, staring up
in the same way, till again I found myself at
the crossing of Catherine Street. Being now
fairly at fault, I went into a shop arid
inquired. They knew nothing about it. Then
into another—and luckily they did seem to
know of such a place, and informed me that
"it was at one of the soap and sponge-shops"
they did'nt know which.

I was a little surprised at this, but attributed
it to the ignorance of the speaker, and
was glad at last to have got a clue. Thus
directed, I singled out a shop of this kind,
and on the left hand side of a door-way leading
up a very narrow passage, I saw written
up  "Female Classes of the Government
School of Design," rather small, on a convex
board, and half slipping round a corner as if
ashamed of itself. No wonder I had not
observed it in passing. If I had seen the board,
I should have taken it for one of the cheap
dentist and cuppers' boards.

Up this narrow passage I walked. It was
scarcely four feet wide, and very dark. I
admit that the day was extremely bad and foggy.
At any rate, it was so dark, and with so little
indication of an entrance to a "School,"—
unless, indeed, to some poor "Evening School"
in the country, or a "Ragged School" in
London, that I walked right out at the other
end, and found myself in a strange-looking
court, which proved to be the entrance to a
soap-manufactory. Here I was again obliged
to inquire, and was directed back again into
the narrow passage; and here I came to a
perfectly dark side-door, which I had passed
on my way, and now by straining my eyes, I
contrived to read the word "School;" for the
rest, if anything, I positively could not
distinguish; and I will defy you, reader, to see
much clearer, even after all the directions I
have given, if you go on any day at all foggy
or dusky, many of which I believe you
Londoners are quite accustomed to. "Queer place
enough," thought I, "for a paternal Government
to establish a number of young ladies
in." The knocker refusing to move, I fumbled
out a bell-handle—pulled—and was admitted.

Having made known to Mrs. Mc Ian—the
lady superintending the school—that I was a
manufacturer, and a partner in an influential
firm, I received a polite attention, and was
conducted into the largest of the rooms
appropriated to the students.

This room was the first-floor front, exactly
over the shop below. It could not have been
above eleven or twelve feet high. I do not know
how many students were there; but the room
was full to crowding. They were packed close
together on forms, just like children at a
Sunday School, in our manufacturing towns.
The elbows, and, in some cases, the shoulders
of one student touching those of her next
door neighbours, on each side. The drawing
desks, or stands, with the forms, were
arranged in rows across the room, and so
closely that to pass along between was not
possible without frequently scraping oneself
against the desk behind, or causing the
student in front to bend and pack herself
forward against her own drawing-board. This
was the junior class. They were copying
from the "flat" and the "round," (prints or
drawings, and bas-reliefs); but, though it was
only two o'clock, the light was so bad, owing
to the fog, and the dusty, uncleaned windows,
that to distinguish anything accurately was
out of the question. I asked a student why
they did not have drawing-lamps, but was
informed that none were allowed. By bending
down, with a close scrutiny, to the drawings
of two or three of those nearest the windows,
I could see that they were very well done;
and the copies of several of the casts of scrollwork,
flowers, and fruit, in high relief, were
excellent. In the imperfect light, the drawings
really looked almost as tangible and
round as the casts themselves. Some drew
in chalk, and some painted in oil, some in
water-colour; but the majority painted in
what is called tempera, or body colour, and of
the same kind in which Cartoons are painted.
Though the fire was small, the room was very
hot and close, and there was no sort of
provision for ventilation.

In the back room, on the second floor,
which was much smaller, there was similar
crowding, and with greater injury, as the
higher class of students were here; and
these, frequently having large designs, were
continually in each other's way. For a
young lady to have a blow on the cheek, or
the side of her head, from the corner of a
wooden-frame—an easel to be upset—a cast
knocked down—a freshly-painted design
smeared across, or a hole knocked in a canvas,
were things of almost every-day occurrence.
One of these rents in a design for a carpet,
and half finished, I myself saw. The hole
was so large I could have crept through it;
and on this very day of my visit, a valuable
porcelain vase has been knocked down and
broken, sheerly from the impossibility of any
one being able to move without jostling
somebody or something. Here also, the room
was very hot and close—nothing in the shape
of ventilation.

Impossible as it was, from the state of the
atmosphere, added to the extreme dirtiness of
the windows, all crusted over, as they were,
with London dust and smuts, to judge well of
colours, in themselves, I could yet see that
the best had been selected, and the best
harmonies employed. I here saw designs
for table-covers, chintz, ladies' muslin, or other
figured dresses, groups of flowers, fruit, carpets,
paper-hangings, models in clay and wax, &c.