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hands to the capstan-bars, and hurra from the depths of their merry hearts as the bows of the vessel cleave the waters of the ocean, which is to be their home for months to come.

No-oh, no! The soldier is not unhappy because he is a soldier.

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And now for "Our little Soldier: an orphan, who would be either wandering about idle or vicious, or a tax to his country if he had not found an asylum in the regiment in which his father served and died.

Here is his history in a few words. You should have seen him tell it, reader, in his perfect dress, wings, grenade and all, for he belongs to the Grenadiers he is the pet of that" tall companie."

"Where did you enlist?"

"At Cork, a year ago-"

"Who took you there?" "My mother."

"Where did your father die?"

"In Africa."

"And what made you enlist in the -st? you could remember nothing of it.”

"I had a liking to the regiment !”

Now is not this worth all the fine sayings about esprit de corps, &c.?

You should observe him on sunny days in a large garrison town, when people come from far and near to see the colours trooped; and when there is " a brave show," as Gossip Pepys would call it, "which it do much admire me to behold," of scarlet and gold, and shining swords, and prancing horses! There he is, a grenadier not four feet high, stretching his little legs, and striving to keep time between two tall drummers. He bears only the cymbals just now, but he is looking forward to the honourable post of drum-boy, and in the meantime he is quite a soldier in his well-fitting dress, with his cap and knapsack and his belt and sword, and within the knapsack his kit of goodly apparel, his Bible and Prayer-book, and what else reader?

His razor and his shaving-brush! But I have something to tell you about that by and by!

As I write there comes back to me the memory of a little drum-boy who was drowned. He was a pretty boy, with fair hair, curling about his face, and delicate features that had a saucy laughing expression which redeemed them from effeminacy; but he was, in the common acceptance of the term, a naughty boy. He was often found at marbles when he ought to have been practising" Daddy, Mammy," and he played tricks on his best friends, as our little soldier does now. He would melt the sealing-wax of a cork and stick it when hot on the well pipe-clayed coat of a dandy bandsman-he would hide himself with a perseverance worthy of a better cause, to tickle the parrot belonging to the messman's wife with a straw till it screamed beyond control. He was a sad one at killing cats, and once he got possession of an air-gun, and wounded a kitten, who, however, kept up the character of her "order by living for years afterwards with a bullet in her chin, as I can testify, for I have often felt it.

Poor little Jock! he suffered severely for his disobedience in leading his companions astray. Beneath the rocks of Ladder Hill at St. Helena, those rocks which serve as a natural rampart for artillery,—

there are deep and treacherous pools, which look so clear and tempting with the vivid tropic sky reflected in them, that you could expect no evil in their transparent depths. But these were forbidden waters to the bathers, and Jock knew it well. He had a daring spirit; perhaps he would not have cared to do battle with the very dog-fish, miniature sharks which came there, and the cat-fish, or sea-devils, as the island children called the hideous ocean imps which sported fiendishly in those bright pools.

One glorious evening, then, Jock led his comates down under the frowning rocks, and a merry hour's gambol they meant to have, leaping from stone to stone, and revelling in the refreshing waves which sometimes burst in a sparkling shower of spray over their heads, and at others when the tide swelled, came rolling on with a peal like thunder, tumbling and roaring and dashing all before them in their wrath.

But on the evening in question the pools lay in deep shadow, the sun was sinking, but leaving the reflection of his splendour, like other bright intelligences, on the world that he was leaving. Piles of clouds touched with his glory, shaped themselves against the sky into towns, and palaces, fields and temples: creatures spread their gigantic wings all tipped with gold against the azure back-ground of the heavens, fiery dragons looked out from mountains of flame and straightway faded from the sight behind a mantle of deep purple. Ships of many nations lay beneath this pomp, at anchor on the glassy space which girds what was at that time the grandest mausoleum that Nature ever gave the dead: the dark-skinned islanders and the jettyhaired Lascars were singing as they plied their boats between the Indiamen and the shore; but a cry rose from the western rocks-a cry of great dismay. A motley crowd collected round the guard-house, soldiers hurried through the gateway from the sea, and the victim of disobedience was borne lifeless from the waters. Vainly they chafed the stiffened limbs; cold, and pale, and unconscious on the guard-room table lay the pretty drum-boy, the merry eyes closed, the fingers cramped.

His young comrades carried him to his grave, his cap, his sword, all his miniature accoutrements as they lay on his coffin were gazed at by strangers with melancholy interest as they watched the little train pass by. Idle lay his drum now, poor boy! and those of his companions had changed their merry beat to a dull and muffled roll, fit accompaniment for the sad-sad moan of the fifes as it rolled on the still air of that bright tropic day.

But I must return to "Our little Soldier" of the present day. There he stands fully accoutred, and drawn up as stiff as a small ramrod. As the word of command is given, he advances with his fellow-soldiers; they form a guard of honour to receive the Majesty of England. He has looked forward to this as quite an event, but he is only intent now on keeping step, and placing himself in a soldierlike position: he is drawn up with the rest, awaiting the arrival of the royal cortége; he does his best, throws back his shoulders, elevates his chin,-in short, stands rigidly at "attention." Even the sight of Queen, and Prince, and children, and attendants, does not move him apparently, but his eyes are fixed in admiration on the royal faces; he stares at last boldly on them with wondering delight, and the Queen cannot resist a laugh as Her Majesty points out to her children the

VOL. XXVI.

L

astonishment and pleasure which, in spite of his wooden attitude, are depicted on the pleasant face of "Our little Soldier."

A few more last words about him. The boy was on parade one day with his knapsack spread open before him-he was displaying his kit, all his worldly property, in short, to his captain. He is a good steady boy, not like poor Jack the disobedient-the drowned! and his kit is quite a pattern for older and bigger men than he. But what is this he hands the officer with such solemn gravity? The razor and shavingbrush! He will not want such an addition to his " traps" for years to come, he looks, indeed, as if he should never want them,-no wonder there is a suppressed titter in the ranks.

"You do not want these, do you?" inquires his Captain, with mock seriousness.

"Oh no, sir!" replies the boy with equal solemnity.

"Well, then, you may sell them."

He looks quite pleased, and his kit is all right, and his new belt is fitted to him, for it almost reached his heels before, and now he only wants a tiny cane to be complete, and then he may take his walk, and spend his money-his own money!

When the razor and the brush were sold, and our little soldier received his pay, the sum amounted with his savings to fifteen shillings. Fifteen shillings! quite a fortune for one who had never had anything of his own in his life before.

"And now, how are you going to spend it, my lad?" asked a

comrade.

And then our little soldier walked up to his captain, and laid the money before him, and, standing as stiff as ever, said—

"If

you please, sir, I have saved this to send to my mother!"

FASCICULI FROM THE GARDEN OF JEAN
PAUL RICHTER.

RELIGION.

THE more we strive to satisfy our conscience the more do its demands upon us increase. Religion, in this, resembles the sun. In mere daylight, or by the evening lamp, the air in your apartment seems to be pure and unmingled-but let the sun strike in one single ray-and, behold, what clouds of dust are floating in its beam!

Do you ask who is the most beautiful Christian? She it is who, though deeply suffering, is always looking upward to God. She it is who, inwardly weep and bleed as she may, appears to our eyes as joy, and whom the storms of the world can neither unsettle nor

darken.

Where is its likeness? There, in the heavens, where stands the rainbow. The winds beat against it, and the stormy clouds pass over it, and yet it moves not, but continues to reflect back its sun: and its drops all turn to colours, and there it lies on the heavens, like the bright morning dew of a glorious day!

145

Wayside Pictures

THROUGH

FRANCE, BELGIUM, AND HOLLAND.

IX. THE VALLEY OF THE MEUSE TO LIEGE.

A SHORT drive through some famous spots-Genappe, close to which Napoleon was nearly captured in his carriage by the Prussians, and Quatre Bras, where the battle was fought-carries us to Namur, a strong fortress, or fortified town, on a rock at the junction of the Sambre and the Meuse. Here you get the first glimpse of that picturesque valley which the Belgians delight in naming La Petite Suisse. If you arrive in the evening make up your mind at ten o'clock to be a little stunned by the rusty ill-tempered chime of the bells, a horrid booming sound which announces the closing of the gates. From that moment you are shut up, like the starling, and may cry in vain to be let out till the morning trumpets from the bristling heights proclaim the re-opening of the gates. This feeling of imprisonment, or sense of mental suffocation, so exasperating to an Englishman, is one of the penalties you must pay for sleeping in a fortified town.

But you will have no other reason to regret your visit to Namur. The streets are clean and cheerful, notwithstanding the brooding shadows of the hill-fort above, and the perpetual tramp of soldiers; and a peep into the citadel is worth a day's journey. The fortifications, capable of enclosing six thousand men, are said to be impregnable, and look as if they were. The plateau on the summit, broad enough to allow six hundred soldiers to form and manœuvre, commands a magnificent view of the Sambre and the Meuse and the Forest of Ardennes. The country all round is highly cultivated and picturesque, and amongst the immediate items of interest is the residence, close to the town, of a blind avocat, who has walled in his grounds for security. The notion of a blind man walling himself up out of sight, afforded special diversion to our party, who were in such high spirits from the bracing air and the charming scenery, as to be willing to be amused on the slightest pretext. The fortifications were shewn to us by the daughter of the concierge, a young girl who bounded before us like an antelope up the steep ascent. She told us that a part of the building on the plateau, which forms the last level before you reach the summit, is dedicated to the purposes of an ophthalmic hospital, and that all the soldiers, in all parts of Belgium, whose eyes become in any way affected, are sent here to be cured. The doctor happening to be visiting the sick as we passed through, suggested to our communicative guide another scrap of information. She informed us that the doctor is paid ten francs a day, and his adjutant five. The amount surprised us, as it is greater than is paid in England for similar services; but all military perquisites in Belgium take a high range.

There is little in the way of sight-seeing in Namur, except the church of St. Loup, the only one worth the expenditure of half an hour. It is remarkable for the grandeur of its marble columns, and the carving of the ceiling in stone, said to have been executed by a monk who lay on his back on a scaffolding while he was performing the work, with glasses over his eyes to protect them from the dust which fell in showers at every scrape of his knife. The carving is bold and effective, but exhibits no great invention in the design.

The valley of the Meuse, through which you take your route to Liége, is so wild, varied, and secluded, and full of such unexpected turns and scenic surprises, as to make up abundantly for the shortcomings of all the flat roads you have traversed to get into it. Land here is as cheap as it is luxuriant and picturesque. We passed a handsome château, romantically placed on the bank of the stream, and surrounded by a considerable extent of woods and pastures, the rent of which, with liberal rights of fishing, shooting, and hunting, and all other possible out-of-door pleasures, was only about 807. per annum. A family of six or eight persons might live comfortably in this happy valley upon 300l. a year.

The best way to explore the beauties of the valley is to take your passage by the boat which slowly tracks the stream to Liége, when there is water enough to admit of the navigation. This mode of travelling, however, cannot be recommended to any body whose love of scenery is not paramount to the love of ease and luxury; for in these boats you meet a very miscellaneous company, and are not always sure of having the most satisfactory accommodation. Approaching Liége in one of these boats, we took on board a young ecclesiastic who had been ordained only the day before, and whose exuberant enthusiasm, and frank impatience to begin his priestly office at once by proselytising the English, afforded infinite amusement. In his eagerness to convert us he displayed the entire machinery of conversion, unconscious of betraying his game, or thinking himself, perhaps, so skilful a player that he could afford to shew his cards. This raw recruit, but very zealous and lively son of the Church, told us that the process of conversion was carried on through the influence of women; the whole social fabric was moulded by them; the souls of men were in their hands; they were more accessible than men to religious impressions; their natures were diviner; they were nearer to heaven, gentler, less liable to have their feelings hardened by mechanical reasoning; and, for his part, he always addressed himself to the women of a family, being quite sure that in gaining them he should find all the rest an easy conquest. Having delivered himself of a hundred rhapsodies of this kind, with an equally subtle principle, fresh from the Jesus' College, at the bottom of them all, he made many inquiries about our clergy, and appeared to enjoy amazingly the information we gave him on the subject; nor could he conceal the lofty pity, breaking out every now and then into a gush of laughter, with which he looked down upon the lives and habits of priests who were blended so intimately with the laity as to give hostages to society in the shape of children. But when he heard of the enormous incomes we pay to the higher orders of our clergy, his astonishment was unbounded, and he believed that he disposed of that matter finally, and with the right sort of contempt, when, sub

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