The port of Calais presented no appearance of activity, the transports which filled it on my first arrival having long disappeared.  After being detained one day, I was glad to hear a bustle in the hotel at an early hour next morning, and perceiving that the wind had become more favourable for England, I hastened on board the packet, in which my landlord had engaged me a place; the price I found was now reduced to half a guinea.  I had procured the day before a sufferance for the embarkation of myself and baggage.  Our captain and crew were French, and the vessel was not in the neatest order.

Two other packets sailed at the same time, but arrived in Dover before us.  All were full of passengers, owing to the weather having been long unfavourable for sailing.  We had on board forty-six passengers, amongst whom were several Frenchmen, who again gave me occasion to remark the loquacity of their nation; and they only agreed with La Fontaine in the former part of the line, where he says, “Il est bon de parler, et meilleur de se taire;” ’Tis good to speak, but better to be silent. Our passage was extremely rough; but after twelve hours sailing, we entered the port of Dover, and I felt great pleasure in finding myself again in a country, which had only risen still higher in my estimation, from the comparison I had been enabled to form between it and the other countries I had visited.

THE END.