they knew nothing more of him than as a mere lodger amongst them for many years, the greater portion of which time they were unacquainted even with his name. Somehow or other they found out the old man's virtues, his charity, which was universal, and his love, which was unbounded; and for that they tried to strew his short path with quiet attentions. The children never sat upon his knee, although he kissed them slyly; and as to telling Mrs. Harty he was comfortable, that was quite out of the question, yet Mrs. Harty knew full well that The old chap had watched the growth of the children, and had implanted thought after thought in their minds almost imperceptibly; so that they were kind and generous one towards the other as well as to the common world. He had taught them to sympathise with beggars by doing so himself; so that they partook of a portion of his divine and heavenly character, which made their lives much happier than ordinary mortals. The old bone very seldom talked to any of them, except when he was obliged to do so, briefly, and in a manner very easily understood.

he was.

Now it so happened that this charitable family-this happy circlecared little for the outside observance of religion, although they were, in their hearts, quite as religious as their neighbours; for they tried all in their power to create joy in the world and to destroy misery and discord.

It is not necessary to particularise all the attentions which were paid to the beggar, for they came so fast one after another, almost without an effort; but it is certain that the hard woman gradually became more akin to the better part of humanity; so that, after a time, she began to lose the hardness of her features, and to assume something like a surprised expression of countenance, which became more hopeful every minute. The old man took her hand in his and said :

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Woman, let me implore you, to look up to Heaven!" "No, not yet, I am not worthy."

"Yes, woman, there is hope."

The woman did look up, and, whether from association or otherwise, there came round and about her mouth a first attempt at smiling; and soon she looked full at the old man, and cried hysterically-"Oh! God Almighty bless you!'

Then she smiled truly.

CHAPTER XXX.

RICHARD BIDDULPH, BEING A VAGABOND, ENTERS THE BRITISH ARMY.

Mind this, the heading of this chapter shall remain as it is now printed until the mighty stigma and gigantic disgrace of flogging grownup men-husbands-fathers of families-in the presence of their comrades, shall be blotted out entirely from the code of punishment in the British army; for be it understood, that immediately a man is flogged he is a vagabond to his friends as well as to himself. But perhaps it is better that Richard Biddulph's life should illustrate the subject, and

make out a case worthy the attention of the legislature; so that the army may not only be the refuge for those who are cast out upon the world from society, but should also hold out inducements for the virtuous to join those ranks which might ultimately lead to honour. The threat of every drunken husband, of all idle vagabonds in towns as well as villages of the dissolute, of the depraved, is simply that, when all resources fail, they will join the army, which is a sad although perfectly true libel upon that service, which ought to inspire the highest aspirations and be the most difficult to enter; for it cannot be supposed that there is any higher aim for a man's ambition than that of fighting for the liberty of his country; but when allied, as it is, to the chance of being flogged, there is nothing more fearful to contemplate or to be more strenuously avoided. So, my dear reader, if you are a soldier, you must not be offended at the top of this chapter-more especially when you are assured that you have the power of obliterating the stain-i. e., if you induce government to abolish flogging in the army.

Well, after this long digression it must be stated that Richard Biddulph walked about the streets of London during both day-time and night-time, until he was most heartily tired of the place, when he went off into the country, living as he could as he went along. Sometimes he shared the meal of a waggoner; sometimes he got provisions from some charitable gipsies, and sometimes he stole from farm-yards as well as from snugly-built houses. He began to get anything but particular as to where he dined, so that he did dine, or where he slept either, for the matter of that. No; he led a wandering vagabondish life for a long time; so that he did not improve in morality, but rather went down the scale of society lower and lower still. He stood upon worn bridges, and looked into the waters beneath the arches of them; but they did not reflect one particle of purity or quietness, or holiness, or sanctity to him. If anything, they simply cast a black glance and a querulous gurgling, which said, “Young man, this is no place for such as you, for your heart is blind to the original impressions of humanity;" so that the youth understood in a moment the reasoning of the gentle streams, and walked away from the old bridges more hardened than before. It does not appear that he committed any grave offences against the laws; but it is certain that, in consequence of his mind and feelings having been hardened by Dr. Frampton's rods, he did not consider many offences in the same light as formerly. But then it must be remembered that he was a houseless, friendless, penniless wanderer, having been turned out from a charitable foundation upon a merciless and unsympathizing world; so that he had become, like his opponent the world, selfish, and somewhat callous to its opinions.

In mind and dress Richard Biddulph was, in every sense of the word, a vagabond: yes, just the chap that man-traps and spring-guns are intended to trap and shoot at—the very kind of vagrant who is advised to leave every town, village, hamlet, or estate he happens to enter, in order that the stocks may not be unlocked or the cart-tail called into active human service. To be sure, there was the old workhouse for him to get into if he could, and there were the prisons also; but unfortunately for him, he was too young and robust-looking for the one, and had not committed sufficient crimes for the other. Still, in heart and

soul he was a perfect vagabond, as the after part of his history is likely to reveal.

Richard Biddulph was a vagabond, so that he had no difficulty in entering the British army. To pass over preliminaries and to get into the marrow, let it be understood that the youth was admitted after an examination by the doctor-as though the doctor could read the human heart; he was admitted as a drummer-boy into a marching regiment; so that he might associate with a number of persons who called themselves, and who were called, the British army. Now don't misunderstand the dignity, or try to depreciate the merits-the stupendously glorious and immortally stupendous merits of the particular detachment of soldiers Richard Biddulph honoured with his society; for, according to their own chaplain's account, they had achieved wonders at one place with a hard name, and miracles at the storming of another with a harder, and most wonderful-most singularly wonderful-exploits in this, that, and the other celebrated campaign. Lord bless you, if the aforesaid chaplain spoke gospel-and chaplains do generally speak gospel-that particular portion of the army was The Army par excellence, and had no second in the whole universe. Why, there was nothing ever great, nothing whatsoever grandiloquent, beginning with Marlborough down to Wellington, that had been done in the way of fighting in connection with victory which did not owe its laurels to that particular regiment. Oh, they were all as brave as devils and as generous as saints. Their colonel deserved to be a field marshal, their major a general, their ensigns captains, and their sergeants much higher than they were. As to the chaplain, if he had his deserts, he ought to be then and there Lord Archbishop of Canterbury; whilst the doctor was the best carver in the whole service. Why, the regiment had too many flags for the baggage-waggon to get along with, besides medals by the sack. Really, to give credit to the worthy chaplain, he actually made the hair of every officer stand on end from very pride at being allied to such a detachment, which, according to his veracity, was the theme of toasts and sentiments, as well as brave songs, courageous impulses, and stirrers up to fighting over the whole surface of the habitable globe, as well as beyond it, if he might say so; and really it would have been a pity to stop or otherwise control his eloquent addresses.

Now it must be confessed that this chaplain did-like every chaplain does-speak long speeches after dinner, so that perhaps the world may give an allowance-I believe it is called a discount-to his sentiments; no, no, not his sentiments, but those of the mess wine, which is not always quite so good as it ought to be at so much a bottle. Yet, whatever is taken off chaplain's ideas of glorious victories, and so on, by the unsophisticated civilian, must not be thought of by your true ligitimate soldier, for he may continue to add rather than to diminish those inducements to bravery, as well as rushing into lions' mouths fearlessly.

Richard Biddulph joined the army, but it has not been stated which particular regiment he joined, and really it is not necessary to say one syllable about the matter, inasmuch as whether it was the 21st, the 42nd, or the 60th, it was a marching regiment; that is, a body of men continually on the move, marching from one town to another, and committing devastation wherever they marched; for they not only captiva

ted whole towns, but also whole villages of hearts, which they took away with them. Singular to say-no, not singular, because it is not singular-they never left their hearts in the villages, but marched away piping, blowing and thrashing their drums, as though they were the merriest dogs in the world. As they went away never to return, old men kissed their grand-daughters, and mothers received their repentent daughters upon their bosoms, and young lassies cried bitterly, whilst the drum sounded a merry joyous march, which the men kept pace to with their feet. Then came murmurs about the heartlessness and callousness, and unmanliness, and hypocrisy, and deceit of the regiment that had marched away, when one or two talked about there being vagabonds amongst the number, whose whole time was taken up in proving to the word that they were so.

"There was perhaps one bold man in every town-he might have been idiotic, and he might not-who standing upon a stone spoke about these sodgers being a cus instead of a blessin to the country, becos as how they were more to be feared than the enemy. They comes as friends among us, and they deceives us, they ruins us, they teaches us forin vices, and they learns us to be tarnashun idle.”

Such an opinion as this has been stated by an honest country-man before now; but as Richard Biddulph is scarcely initiated into the duties of a drummer boy, and has not seen any of those sights, which unfortunately are seen every now and then in the British Army, it is better to pursue a moment or two whilst a slight warning is given to the nervous or hypocondriacal patient, that his or her faculties must be braced up tightly in order that the next chapter may detail something about flogging a true British soldier. Don't read it unless you like, but remember, that it is so, whether you read it or you do not.

CHAPTER XXXI.

A BRITISH SOLDIER TIED UP AND FLOGGED.

THE marching regiment to which the boy was attached, in the capacity of drummer, was composed of a set of hardy veterans, who had marched in various temperatures without being affected by changes; yes, they were a fine body of Englishmen who were hardy in more senses than one, inasmuch as they had one after another received so many lashes, 100, 200, 300, 400, five hundred lashes; no, not 500 scarcely? yes, but they did though, and then went back to the ranks with the proud knowledge that not a single cry had escaped during the punishment, no, not from one of them. It must not be imagined that all the men were formed alike-oh, no-because that was not the case, for there were chaps as round as balloons, and there were chaps as thin as herrings amongst them, but still because of that marrow, or that bone, they did not differ in the grand particular, or rule, or understanding, as to the non-utterance of an exclamation whilst they were tied up to the halberts. If one or two, or even half-a-dozen had been flogged, then there might have been a slight portion of disgrace attached to the cere

mony, but when the matter extended to the whole regiment, why there could not by any possibility be any ignominy at all. Young men joined the regiment after they had spent their first payment of a shilling, and after a day or two, they were told to expect, what they very soon were made acquainted with-so many lashes. There was no disgrace, because it was general; and if a man gave any vent to his feelings, he was looked upon as a coward, and thought unworthy to associate with such brilliant companions, who boasted of having submitted to the most thrilling torture without uttering even the shadow of a groan.

The great cause of this constant use of the "Cat" in this particular regiment arose from the fact of the colonel being what is techinally called an iron heart, and the whole of the officers down to the captain were of a somewhat similar character, as far as regarded the coldness of their circulations. The colonel was a strict, martial, upright, erect, grissley fellow, who had an idea that flogging made men hardy and fitted them for severer punishment in the field of battle. To be sure he had not tried the experiment himself neither had any of the commissioned officers who acted under his orders, but still for all that he had the opinion, and the devil himself could'nt turn him away from it. Now these officers were all fitted for such a colonel, for they minded more about a snug mess and a comfortable camp than they did for the moral as well as intellectual training of those who were under their command. In justice to the officers, it must be stated that 500 lashes would have killed them outright, if they had submitted to the experiment, for they were all like creatures who had continually been feasting upon the fat things of this world, and appeared to be made up of chicken bones, beef a-la-mode, and maccaroni, so that they were totally unfit to put themselves under such a train of experiment. Now the sickly colonel, as well as the maccaroni looking officers, never wanted an excuse for fiogging, as there was more drunkenness in this regiment than in any other in the service; and flogging follows drunkenness to a certainty.

Why now only fancy a number of men drawn out purposely to see a man's back flayed with a cat-o-nine-tails, and to behold large pieces of flesh torn away from the ribs of a tied up fellow-creature-blood and suffering as a matter of course. Unfortunately it is something more than fancy it is a hard reality. The men go home to eat? No! to drink? Yes! Then comes other drunkenness, and then comes other punishment with the "cat." As to court martial, that must be a mere farce-a mere excuse for punishment-when the originator of the crime is not asked for or brought into the enquiry. But stop! a word or two is necessary just now in reference to flogging in the British army, and it will be fully understood one day or other, so that the sooner it is the better. Great Captains-Dukes of Wellington, and so on-great captains state that drunkenness is the curse of the British army, but they don't state that flogging produces drunkenness, yet it does, although they don't say so; and let any impartial gentleman connected with the army, be questioned when he is out of the influence of his brother officers, and he will admit-they admit it daily-that flogging as it produces drunkenness is the great curse to that army which fights the fight-at present in terrorem for the English citizen.

Learn a secret ye infant legislators.