e, to see natural hilarity
defy depression; and a whole nation laugh, sing, and dance, under
burthens that would nearly break the firm-knit sinews of a Briton. Such
was the picture of France at that period, but it was a picture which our
English satirist could not contemplate with common patience. The swarms
of grotesque figures who paraded the streets excited his indignation,
and drew forth a torrent of coarse abusive ridicule, not much to the
honour of his liberality. He compared them to Callot's beggars--Lazarus
on the painted cloth--the prodigal son--or any other object descriptive
of extreme contempt. Against giving way to these effusions of national
spleen in the open street, he was frequently cautioned, but advice had
no effect; he treated admonition with scorn, and considered his monitor
unworthy the name of Englishman. These satirical ebullitions were at
length checked. Ignorant of the customs of France, and considering the
gate of Calais merely as a piece of ancient architecture, he began to
make a sketch. This was soon observed; he was seized as a spy, who
intended to draw a plan of the fortification, and escorted by a file of
musqueteers to M. la Commandant. His sketch-book was examined, leaf by
leaf, and found to contain drawings that had not the most distant
relation to tactics. Notwithstanding this favourable circumstance, the
governor, with great politeness, assured him, that had not a treaty
between the nations been actually signed, he should have been under the
disagreeable necessity of hanging him upon the ramparts: as it was, he
must be permitted the privilege of providing him a few military
attendants, who should do themselves the honour of waiting upon him,
while he resided in the dominions of "the grande monarque." Two
sentinels were then ordered to escort him to his hotel, from whence they
conducted him to the vessel; nor did they quit their prisoner, until he
was a league from shore; when, seizing him by the shoulders, and
spinning him round upon the deck, they said he was now at liberty to
pursue his voyage without further molestation.

So mortifying an adventure he did not like to hear recited, but has in
this print recorded the circumstance which led to it. In one corner he
has given a portrait of himself, making the drawing; and to shew the
moment of arrest, the hand of a serjeant is upon his shoulder.

The French sentinel is so situated, as to give some idea of a figure
hanging in chains: