r hostel-window upon the streets
of old Winchester, our motions ever in accordance with the 'route' of the
regiment, so habituated to change of scene that it had become almost
necessary to our existence. Pleasant were these days of my early
boyhood; and a melancholy pleasure steals over me as I recall them.
Those were stirring times of which I am speaking, and there was much
passing around me calculated to captivate the imagination. The dreadful
struggle which so long convulsed Europe, and in which England bore so
prominent a part, was then at its hottest; we were at war, and
determination and enthusiasm shone in every face; man, woman, and child
were eager to fight the Frank, the hereditary, but, thank God, never
dreaded enemy of the Anglo-Saxon race. 'Love your country and beat the
French, and then never mind what happens,' was the cry of entire England.
Oh, those were days of power, gallant days, bustling days, worth the
bravest days of chivalry at least; tall battalions of native warriors
were marching through the land; there was the glitter of the bayonet and
the gleam of the sabre; the shrill squeak of the fife and loud rattling
of the drum were heard in the streets of country towns, and the loyal
shouts of the inhabitants greeted the soldiery on their arrival, or
cheered them at their departure. And now let us leave the upland, and
descend to the sea-bord; there is a sight for you upon the billows! A
dozen men-of-war are gliding majestically out of port, their long
buntings streaming from the top-gallant masts, calling on the skulking
Frenchman to come forth from his bights and bays; and what looms upon us
yonder from the fog-bank in the east? a gallant frigate towing behind her
the long low hull of a crippled privateer, which but three short days ago
had left Dieppe to skim the sea, and whose crew of ferocious hearts are
now cursing their imprudence in an English hold. Stirring times those,
which I love to recall, for they were days of gallantry and enthusiasm,
and were moreover the days of my boyhood.

CHAPTER THREE

PRETTY D-----THE VENERABLE CHURCH--THE STRICKEN HEART--DORMANT
ENERGIES--THE SMALL PACKET--NERVES--THE BOOKS--A PICTURE--MOUNTAIN-LIKE
BILLOWS--THE FOOTPRINT--SPIRIT OF DE FOE--REASONING POWERS--TERRORS OF
GOD--HEADS OF THE DRAGONS--HIGH-CHURCH CLERK--A JOURNEY--MY FATHER
RECALLED TO HIS REGIMENT--THE DROWNED COUNTRY

And when I was between six and seven years of age we were once mo