of whom had a leg chained to an arm. The next morning,
at his own request, he was brought before the commandant of the
town, who had only arrived late the preceding evening, and whom he
found seated in his bedroom, 'with all his officers standing round
him receiving orders,' says Jackson, 'with more humility than
orderly-sergeants.' The commandant repeated the offer of 'cavalry or
infantry;' adding that a war was about to commence with the Turks,
and that good-behaviour would insure promotion. However, finding
Jackson obstinately persistent in his refusal, he quietly observed,
in conclusion, that the emperor, as a matter of rule and of right,
'impressed' into his army all such as entered his dominions without
certificates of character. 'The order was so tyrannical,' declares
our _detenu_, 'that I could not contain myself. "Put me in chains,
if you please," I said, "but I tell you, all Germany shall not make
me carry a musket for the emperor."' This impetuous burst of
indignation seems to have alarmed the phlegmatic commandant, who
accordingly let our adventurer go, counselling him, however, to
write to the English ambassador at Vienna for a passport, lest he
should get into further trouble.

Jackson passed through the Tyrol into Italy, everywhere indulging
his love of scenery and still greater love of adventure; studying
with all the acuteness of his countrymen the varied characters of
the people he met with, and in his correspondence with home friends,
sketching them in language striking for its force, its propriety,
and originality. Some of his remarks on men and manners are
conceived in a truly Goldsmithian vein, whilst all testify at once
to the goodness of his heart and the quickness of his perceptions.
At Venice he says that he felt it to be 'such a feast of enjoyment
as seldom falls to the lot of man, and never to the lot of any but a
poor man, who has nothing conspicuous about him to attract the
notice of the crowd,' to possess such facilities as he did for
learning what the people of foreign countries really were.

At Albenga, in Piedmont, Jackson arrived one night, tired, hungry,
and drenched with rain. Intending to put up at the 'Albergo di San
Dominico,' which he had been informed was the best inn, he went by
accident to the convent of the same name, and entering, called
loudly to be shewn to a private room. 'Instead of telling me I was
wrong,' he says, 'the young brethren looked waggish, and began to
la