12 AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [l823. 



Our clergyman was a man of the world and of society. At 

 his house I saw among many public characters Rammohun Roy, 

 whose conversion to Unitarianism made at that time a great stir 

 in London. He was a tall, striking-looking, grave man of about 

 forty. Barnes, the editor of the 'Times,' was also a frequent 

 visitor there. 



It was now decided that I should be sent to school in Paris. 

 Accordingly, early one fine summer morning, escorted by both 

 parents and with my eldest sister, we started in the basket of 

 the Union coach for Dover. 'Arriving in the evening, we had to 

 wait till next day for crossing. Starting at ten, Calais was 

 reached at about twelve. The rest of the day was spent in 

 passing our luggage through the custom-house, getting our pass- 

 ports vise*d, and securing places in the diligence. Before leav- 

 ing Calais, I took the opportunity of going down one of the 

 shallow wells which were then to be found in most of the court- 

 yards of the town, and came up, I imagine, not much the wiser. 

 Diligences started for Paris morning and evening. We left on 

 a morning by the Messageries Royales, and after spending two 

 nights and part of two days on the road, arrived in the great 

 yard in the Rue Notre Dame des Victoires. I was now eleven 

 years old, and the interest I felt in all I saw was excessive. I 

 was never tired of seeing the streets which then, with the 

 exception of the Rue de la Paix, had no footpaths and of watch- 

 ing the traffic and listening to the many cries. 



The school selected for me was at the top of the Rue des 

 Martyrs, at the foot of Montmartre. It was a large school, kept 

 by a M. Colin. I was placed more particularly in charge of 

 Mme. Colin and their only daughter, Mdlle. Fannie, who was two 

 to three years older than myself. M. Colin was a man about 

 forty, with only one leg a sight at that time very common in 

 Paris, when men with one leg or arm were constantly met with. 

 I was the only English boy in the school, and nothing could be 

 kinder than their treatment of me. I was a little bullied by the 

 boys, for Waterloo was then of fresh memory, but I always found 

 a few to take my part : there was the cachot if they were caught 

 in the act [of bullying me], so I got on very well. The place 

 was barrack-like and the fare simple. The floors were all tiled 

 and the dormitories without furniture. . . The breakfast was 



