as applicable to each. "My
contribution to the grand alliance," concludes his Majesty, "shall be in
money; both because I have more Louis to spare, and because the best
advantage of a rich nation is, that it can purchase others to light its
battles!" The Grand Signor approves the proposal, and throws down his
cimeter. "I will give my cimeter," says he; "but being a prophet as well
as a sovereign, and having such a family of wives, I deem it unseemly to
use it myself. Let England take it, and give it to any one who will use
it manfully." The Pope, in his turn, gives his blessing. "If the war
should succeed, you will have to thank my benediction for the victory;
if it should fail, it will be from the efficacy of the blessing that a
man of you will be saved alive." The Emperor then asks what is the
amount of England's contribution; and his British Majesty throws him a
purse. His Imperial Majesty, after feeling the weight, takes up the
cimeter of the Grand Signor, and retires. The drama then proceeds to the
representation of the different battles of Bonaparte, in all of which it
gave him the victory, &c.

After a light dinner, in which with some difficulty I procured fish, and
with still more had it dressed in the English mode, I mounted my horse,
and proceeded on my journey in the road to Boulogne. I had now my first
trial of my Norman horse; he fully answered my expectations, and almost
my wishes. He had a leisurely lounging walk, which seemed well suited to
an observant traveller. It is well known of Erasmus, that he wrote the
best of his works, and made a whole course of the Classics, on
horseback; and I have no doubt but that I could have both read and
written on the back of my Norman. To make up, however, for this
tardiness, he was a good-humoured, patient, and sure-footed beast; but
would stretch out his neck now and then to get a passing bite of the
wheat which grew by the road side. I wished to get on to Boulogne to
sleep, and therefore tried all his paces; but found his trotting
scarcely tolerable by human feeling.

The road from Calais, for the first twelve miles, is open and hilly. On
each side of the main way is a smaller road, which is the summer, as the
other is the winter one. The day being very fine, and not too warm, I
enjoyed myself much. I passed many fields in which the country people
were making hay: they seemed very merry. The fellow who loaded the cart
had a cocked hat, and by his erectness I should