Here the whole party were again thrown into confusion.  “Do you hear that?  We are in the wrong boat.”  “I knew it would be so,” said the Rev. Dr. Ritchie, of Edinburgh.  “It is indeed a pretty piece of work,” said a plain-looking lady in a handsome bonnet.  “When I go travelling again,” said an elderly looking gent with an eye-glass to his face, “I will take the phaeton and old Dobbin.”  Every one seemed to lay the blame on the committee, and not, too, without some just grounds.  However, Mr. Sturge, one of the committee, being in the boat with us, an arrangement was entered into, by which we were not compelled to pay our fare the second time.

As we neared the French coast, the first object that attracted our attention was the Napoleon Pillar, on the top of which is a statue of the Emperor in the Imperial robes.  We landed, partook of refreshment that had been prepared for us, and again repaired to the railway station.  The arrangements for leaving Boulogne were no better than those at London.  But after the delay of another hour, we were again in motion.

It was a beautiful country through which we passed from Boulogne to Amiens.  Straggling cottages which bespeak neatness and comfort abound on every side.  The eye wanders over the diversified views with unabated pleasure, and rests in calm repose upon its superlative beauty.  Indeed, the eye cannot but be gratified at viewing the entire country from the coast to the metropolis.  Sparkling hamlets spring up as the steam horse speeds his way, at almost every point—­showing the progress of civilization, and the refinement of the nineteenth century.

We arrived at Paris a few minutes past twelve o’clock at night, when, according to our tickets, we should have been there at nine.  Elihu Burritt, who had been in Paris some days, and who had the arrangements there pretty much his own way, was at the station waiting the arrival of the train, and we had demonstrated to us, the best evidence that he understood his business.  In no other place on the whole route had the affairs been so well managed; for we were seated in our respective carriages and our luggage placed on the top, and away we went to our hotels without the least difficulty or inconvenience.  The champion of an “Ocean Penny Postage” received, as he deserved, thanks from the whole company for his admirable management.

The silence of the night was only disturbed by the rolling of the wheels of the omnibus, as we passed through the dimly lighted streets.  Where, a few months before was to be seen the flash from the cannon and the musket, and the hearing of the cries and groans behind the barricades, was now the stillness of death—­nothing save here and there a gens d’arme was to be seen going his rounds in silence.

The omnibus set us down at the hotel Bedford, Rue de L’Arend, where, although near one o’clock, we found a good supper waiting for us; and, as I was not devoid of an appetite, I did my share towards putting it out of the way.