ept them close in a tin cannister, and carefully excluded the air. I
found them most fully to answer the purpose: they were very little
injured when I reached Liverpool, and, I believe, would have sustained
no damage whatever, if I had as carefully excluded the air as at first.

CHAP. II.

_Morning View of Port--Arrival and landing--A Day at Calais.--French
Market, and Prices of Provisions._

THE Master's prediction proved true, and indeed in a shorter time than
he had expected. An unusual bustle on the deck awakened me about
midnight; and as my anxious curiosity would not suffer me to remain in
my hammock, I was shortly upon deck, and was told in answer to my
inquiries, that a fine breeze had sprung up to the south-west, and that
we should reach the port of our destination by day-break. This
intelligence, added to the fineness of the night, which was still clear,
would have induced me to remain above, but by a violent blow from one of
the ropes, I was soon given to understand that it was prudent for me to
retire. The crew and ship seemed each to partake of the bustle and
agitation of each other; the masts bent, the timbers cracked, and ropes
flew about in all directions.

It may be imagined, that though returning to my hammock, I did not
return to my repose. I lay in all the restlessness of expectation till
day-break, when the Captain summoned me upon deck by the grateful
intelligence that we were entering the port of Calais. Hurrying upon
deck, I beheld a spectacle which immediately dispelled all the uneasy
sensations attendant upon a sleepless night. It was one of the finest
mornings of the latter end of June; the sun had not risen, but the
heavens were already painted with his ascending glories. I repeated in a
kind of poetical rapture the inimitable metaphoric epithet of the Poet
of Nature; an epithet preserved so faithfully, and therefore with so
much genius, by his English translator, Pope. The rosy-fingered morn,
indeed, appeared in all her plenitude of natural beauty; and the Sun,
that he might not long lose the sight of his lovely spouse, followed her
steps very shortly, and exhibited himself just surmounting the hills to
the east of Calais.

The sea was unruffled, and we were sailing towards the pier with full
sail, and a gentle morning breeze. The land and town, at first faint,
became gradually more distinct and enlarged, till we at length saw the
people on shore hurrying down to the pier, so as