rel. The oysters are
very large, coarse, and rank. There is very little fish caught on the
French coast, because the shallows run a great way from the shore; and
the fish live chiefly in deep water: for this reason the fishermen go a
great way out to sea, sometimes even as far as the coast of England.
Notwithstanding all the haste the contractors can make, their fish in
the summer is very often spoiled before it arrives at Paris; and this
is not to be wondered at, considering the length of the way, which is
near one hundred and fifty miles. At best it must be in such a
mortified condition, that no other people, except the negroes on the
coast of Guinea, would feed upon it.

The wine commonly drank at Boulogne comes from Auxerre, is very small
and meagre, and may be had from five to eight sols a bottle; that is,
from two-pence halfpenny to fourpence. The French inhabitants drink no
good wine; nor is there any to be had, unless you have recourse to the
British wine-merchants here established, who deal in Bourdeaux wines,
brought hither by sea for the London market. I have very good claret
from a friend, at the rate of fifteen-pence sterling a bottle; and
excellent small beer as reasonable as in England. I don't believe there
is a drop of generous Burgundy in the place; and the aubergistes impose
upon us shamefully, when they charge it at two livres a bottle. There
is a small white wine, called preniac, which is very agreeable and very
cheap. All the brandy which I have seen in Boulogne is new, fiery, and
still-burnt. This is the trash which the smugglers import into England:
they have it for about ten-pence a gallon. Butcher's meat is sold for
five sols, or two-pence halfpenny a pound, and the pound here consists
of eighteen ounces. I have a young turkey for thirty sols; a hare for
four-and-twenty; a couple of chickens for twenty sols, and a couple of
good soles for the same price. Before we left England, we were told
that there was no fruit in Boulogne; but we have found ourselves
agreeably disappointed in this particular. The place is well supplied
with strawberries, cherries, gooseberries, corinths, peaches, apricots,
and excellent pears. I have eaten more fruit this season, than I have
done for several years. There are many well-cultivated gardens in the
skirts of the town; particularly one belonging to our friend Mrs. B--,
where we often drink tea in a charming summer-house built on a rising
ground, which commands a