nd found English comfort united with French
cookery and French taste. After all, I do not know why I may not say
French comforts too; for in many respects they surpass their island
neighbours even in this feature of domestic comfort. It is a comfort to
have a napkin even when eating a muffin; to see one's self entire in a
mirror, instead of _edging_ the form into it, or out of it, sideways; to
drink good coffee; to eat good _cotelettes;_ and to be able to wear the
same linen for a day, without having it soiled. The Bible says, "Comfort
me with flagons, or apples," I really forget which,--and if either of
these is to be taken as authority, a _cotelette_ may surely be admitted
into the _carte de conforts_.

We found Calais a clear town, and pressing a certain medium aspect, that
was as much English as French. The position is strong, though I was not
much struck with the strength of the works. England has no motive to
wish to possess it, now that conquest on the Continent is neither
expedient nor possible. The port is good for nothing, in a warlike
sense, except to protect a privateer or two; though the use of steam
will probably make it of more importance in any future war, than it has
been for the last two centuries.

We found W---- safely arrived. At one of the frontier towns he had been
asked for his passport, and in his fright he gave the letter of the
Prefet of the Rhone, instead of the explanation I had so cleverly
devised. This letter commenced with the words "Monsieur le Consul" in
large letters, and occupying, according to French etiquette, nearly half
of the first page. The gendarme, a _vieux moustache_, held his lantern
up to read it, and seeing this ominous title, it would seem that
Napoleon, and Marengo, and all the glories of the Consulate, arose in
his imagination. He got no further than those three words, which he
pronounced aloud; and then folding the letter, he returned it with a
profound bow, asking no further questions. As the diligence drove on,
W---- heard him say, "Apparemment vous avez un homme tres-considerable
la-dedans, Monsieur le Conducteur." So much for our fears, for
passports, and for gendarmes!

We went to bed, with the intention of embarking for England in the
morning.

THE END

End of Project Gutenberg's Recollections of Europe, by J. Fenimore Cooper

*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RECOLLECTIONS OF EUROPE ***

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