Few are the adventures of a Canon travelling gently over
good roads to his benefice. In my way to Reading I had, for my companion, the
Mayor of Bristol when I preached that sermon in favour of the Catholics. He
recognized me, and we did very well together. I was terribly afraid that he
would stop at the same inn, and that I should have the delight of his society
for the evening; but he (thank God!) stopped at the Crown, as a loyal man, and
I, as a rude one, went on to the Bear. Civil waiters, wax candles, and off
again the next morning, with my friend and Sir W. W——, a
very shrewd, clever, coarse, entertaining man, with whom I skirmished
à l’amiable all the way
to Bath. At Bath, candles still more waxen, and waiters still more profound.
Being, since my travels, very much gallicized in my character, I ordered a pint
of claret; I found it incomparably the best wine I ever tasted; it disappeared
with a rapidity which sur-
| MEMOIR OF THE REV. SYDNEY SMITH. | 381 |
