ampbell.

When Havelock came from the Residency to meet the troops the men
flocked round him cheering, and their enthusiasm brought tears to the
veteran's eyes.

On the 17th November Lucknow was relieved, and on the 24th Havelock
died. "I have," he said to Outram in his last illness, "for forty
years so ruled my life that when death came I might face it without
fear."

A FRIEND OF PRISONERS.

THE STORY OF JOHN HOWARD.

In St. Paul's Cathedral there stands a monument representing a man
with a key in his right hand and a scroll in his left, whilst on the
pedestal from which he looks down are pictured relics of the prison
life of the past. The man is John Howard, who travelled tens of
thousands of miles, and spent many years in visiting gaols all over
England and the Continent, and in endeavouring to render prison life
less degrading and brutalising. Wherever he went prison doors were
unlocked as if he possessed a magic key; and by his life and books he
did more to help prisoners than any other man.

It is only just over a hundred years since John Howard died; yet in
his day persons could be put to death for stealing a horse or a sheep,
for robbing dwellings, for defrauding creditors, for forgery, for
wounding deer, for killing or maiming cattle, for stealing goods to
the value of five shillings, or even for cutting a band in a hop
plantation. And many persons who were innocent of any offence would
lie in dungeons for years!

At his father's death John Howard came into possession of a good
property; and, marrying a lady some years older than himself, settled
down on his estate and passed three years of quiet happiness.

Then a great grief came to him. His wife died, and Howard was bowed
down with sorrow.

But the distress brought with it a longing to be a comfort to others;
and he set out for Lisbon, which had just been visited by the great
earthquake of 1755, with the hope of assisting the homeless and
suffering.

France and England were then at war, and on his way thither he was
captured by a French vessel and thrown into prison. He was placed in
a dark, damp, filthy dungeon, and was half starved. For two months he
was kept a prisoner, and as soon as he was free he set about obtaining
the release of his fellow captives.

Some years later he became a sheriff of Bedford, and began visiting
the prisoners in the gaol where John Bunyan wrote the _Pilgrim's
Progress_.

From the inquiries he made during