our
minds by the sight of our own country, was one which we already
anticipated that no other could efface.

Our passage to Calais was rendered very interesting, by the number of
Frenchmen who accompanied us. Some of these were emigrants, who had
spent the best part of their lives in exile; the greater part were
prisoners of various ranks, who had been taken at different periods of
the war. There was evidently the greatest diversity of character, of
prospects, of previous habits, and of political and moral sentiments
among these men; the only bond that connected them was, the love of
their common country; and at a moment for which they had been so long
and anxiously looking, this was sufficient to repress all jealousy and
discord, and to unite them cordially and sincerely in the sentiment
which was expressed, with true French enthusiasm, by one of the party,
as we left the harbour of Dover,--"Voila notre chere France,--A present
nous sommes tous amis!"

As we proceeded, the expression of their emotions, in words, looks, and
gestures, was sometimes extremely pleasing, at other times irresistibly
ludicrous, but always characteristic of a people whose natural feelings
are quick and lively, and who have no idea of there being any dignity or
manliness in repressing, or concealing them. When the boat approached
the French shore, a fine young officer, who had been one of the most
amusing of our companions, leapt from the prow, and taking up a handful
of sand, kissed it with an expression of ardent feeling and enthusiastic
joy, which it was delightful to observe.

It is only on occasions of this kind, that the whole strength of the
feeling of patriotism is made known. In the ordinary routine of civil
life, this feeling is seldom awakened. In the moments of national
enthusiasm and exultation, it is often mingled with others. But in
witnessing the emotions of the French exiles and captives, on returning
to their wasted and dishonoured country, we discerned the full force of
those moral ties, by which, even in the most afflicting circumstances of
national humiliation and disaster, the hearts of men are bound to the
land of their fathers.

We landed, on the evening of the 2d, about three miles from Calais, and
walked into the town. The appearance of the country about Calais does
not differ materially from that in the immediate neighbourhood of Dover,
which is much less fertile than the greater part of Kent; but the
cottages ar