I set off at nine o’clock on Tuesday in the diligence, with a French lady and her father, who has an estate near Calais. I found him a sensible man, with that propensity which the French have for explaining things which do not require explanation. He explained to me, for instance, what he did when he found coffee too strong; he put water in it! He explained how blind people found their way in Paris,—by tapping upon the wall with a stick; what he principally endeavoured to make clear to me was, how they knew when they were come to a crossing;—it was when there was no longer a wall to strike against with their stick! I expressed my thorough comprehension of these means used by blind men, and he paid me many compliments upon my quickness. I had fine weather for my journey, and arrived at Calais at four o’clock on Wednesday. I went to Quilliac’s Hotel, which I found less good and less dear than that of Dessein.
I went to the play the day before I came away, and
| MEMOIR OF THE REV. SYDNEY SMITH. | 267 |
What has struck me most is the extraordinary beauty of the French papers. I have bought enough to paper your room for £2. 10s.; the duty upon it was £5; total, £7. 10s., about as cheap as English paper at a shilling a yard; but I see no such patterns in England.
We sailed at about eleven o’clock, and had a beautiful passage of less than three hours. A sea-voyage produces a little terror, some surprise, great admiration, much cold, much ennui, and, where there is no sickness, much hunger. I got my things through the Custom-house here before six o’clock, and travelled all night to London, with a Flemish baron, his lady, and child, and a French physician’s wife. I am very little fatigued. And so ends my journey to France, which has given me much pleasure and amusement. God bless you all!
