to those who have the conduct of it.  As foreigners, and particularly as Englishmen, we were permitted to see the whole, without reserve.  On my return from witnessing the ceremony at the church of the Trinity, I visited this hospital:  my companion having resumed his graphic operations before the Castle.  I shall not easily forget the face and figure of the matron.  To a countenance of masculine feature, and masculine complexion—­including no ordinary growth of beard, of a raven tint—­she added a sturdy, squat, muscular figure—­which, when put into action, moved in a most decided manner.  A large bunch of massive keys was suspended from a girdle at her side; and her dress, which was black, was rendered more characteristic and striking, by the appearance of, what are yet called, bustles above her hips.  As she moved, the keys and the floor seemed equally to shake beneath her steps.  The elder Smirke would have painted this severe Duenna-like looking matron with inimitable force and truth.  But ... she no sooner opened her mouth, than all traits of severity vanished.  Her voice was even musical, and her “facon de parler” most gracious.  She shewed me the whole establishment with equal good humour and alertness; and I don’t know when I ever made such a number of bows (to the several female patients in the wards) within such limited time and space.  The whole building has the air of a convent; and there were several architectural relics, perhaps of the end of the fifteenth century, which I only regretted were not of portable dimensions; as, upon making enquiry, little objection seemed to be made to the gratuitous disposal of them.

The hour for departure, after sun-set, having arrived, we were summoned to the Diligence when, bidding adieu to the very worthy host and hostess of the Grand Turc, (whom I strongly recommend all Englishmen to visit) I made up my mind for a thirty-six hour’s journey—­as I was to reach Paris on Tuesday morning.  The day had been excessively hot for the season of the year; and the night air was refreshing.  But after a few snatches of sleep—­greatly needed—­there appeared manifest symptoms of decay and downfall in the gloomy and comfortless machine in which we took our departure.  In other words, towards daylight, and just as we approached L’Aigle, the left braces (which proved to be thoroughly rotted leather) broke in two:  and down slid, rather than tumbled, the Falaise Diligence!  There were two French gentlemen, and an elderly lady, besides ourselves in the coach.  While we halted, in order to repair the machine, the Frenchmen found consolation in their misfortune by running to a caffe, (it was between four and five in the morning), rousing the master and mistress, and as I thought, peremptorily and impertinently asking for coffee:  while they amused themselves with billiards during its preparation.  I was in no humour for eating, drinking, or playing:  for here was a second sleepless night!  Having