68

Hint for Teatvtallers.

further recollection of anything that transpired. I awoke the next morning with a splitting headache, and was informed by my mother that I was brought home in a state of insensibility. Though humbled at this confession of my folly, I am glad to be able to record that this was the only instance in my life of my being "the worse for liquor."

My having no regular employment, and the excitement occasioned by the late elections, had made me feel very unsettled. There is nothing much more unfavourable for a youth at sixteen, and especially with such a temperament as mine, than to be casting about for something to do; and the few months of my life spent in this way are among the worst of my history. Idleness and listlessness are dangerous for any one to indulge in, and therefore it cannot be wondered at that I spent much of this time in the company of those not calculated to improve my morals, or help me on in a course of rectitude.

Some of my acquaintances induced me to keep late hours at night, which led me into painful and annoying altercations with my father and mother, and obliged me to invent all sorts of excuses for not being home at suitable hours. My dear mother sat up for me many a weary night, long after all the household were asleep, and I dreaded her kind reproachful look on my return far more than the angry words that fell from my father's lips in the morning. However, I had fairly plunged into all the gaieties and dissipations within my reach at Canterbury at that period.

I was a favourite with the manager of the theatre, and had the privilege of being admitted behind the scenes, where I formed an acquaintance with some of the actors and actresses. One of the latter, wife to the principal tragedian, was a particularly handsome woman. I recollect on one occasion, when her husband had been playing Macbeth, he was so exhausted with the last scene, that when the curtain fell it was with difficulty we could rouse him, so great was his prostration from entering so heartily

Canterbury Theatre.

69

into the combat that closes that grand play. His pretty wife hung over him, chafing his hands, and fanning his face, and looking most beautiful. I was not a little proud of acting as a young knight to so distinguished a chieftain and his lady fair.

The manager of the theatre at this time was a celebrated comic singer, and he and I became quite cronies. It was well for me that the dramatic season did not last very long, or I should have become so enamoured of plays and play actors as to be inclined to have tried my hand at histrionic exhibitions. I have many times envied this famous comic singer as he drew down upon him the applause of a crowded house. My impediment of speech would have stood in the way of my becoming an actor; but I could always sing, and few things are more gratifying than popular applause, though so much has been affectedly said against it.

About this time a strong desire arose within me to go into the army. I had become thoroughly weary of a life of listlessness and want of purpose and—

"I had heard of battles, and I long'd

To follow to the field some warlike lord."

I expressed this military predilection at home, but never met with any encouragement from my parents, and my mother trembled at the thought of a boy of hers

"Seeking the bubble reputation at the cannon's mouth."

The desire, however, strengthened, and as I had expressed to my father a preference for the Royal Artillery, he spoke to a gentleman living at Canterbury who attended our Reading Room daily, and who was moreover officially connected with that regiment.

This gentleman held the rank of Major-General in this regiment, and promised to do everything in his power to help me if I persisted in my determination, and get me sent out to India or one of the other colonies.

My mother was opposed to my going into the army, and

TO

"A Boy in Buttons."

Ei all she could to dissuade me from the project; but the more I thought of it the more I longed to be engaged in some pursuit where my energies would be called forth, and where I should be released from the dull monotony of my unemployed life at Canterbury.

My mother, seeing my determination for soldiering, took an early opportunity of calling upon the wife of the MajorGeneral, and urged all a mother's reasons for dissuading me from my resolution. This kind-hearted lady, who had known me from my infancy, desired me to call upon her. She spoke to me with the gentleness of a true lady, and tried all her persuasiveness to induce me to give up my military schemes.

After talking with me for some time, she rang the bell, which was answered by a youth of my own age, in a green suit and brass bell buttons: she gave him some instructions as to calling on tradesmen for certain little commissions, and when he left the room she turned to me with a smile, and asked me whether I should not rather be a page to her than to be a soldier: that it was a quiet occupation, with nothing of a menial or arduous kind to do, and that her page was the son of very respectable parents. I verily thought the old lady was joking with me, as the idea of being rigged out as "a boy in buttons" had never for a moment entered my mind. I thanked her very sincerely for all her good intentions; but this interview only tended to strengthen my desire to become a soldier, and I determined to carry out this resolution as soon as a favourable opportunity occurred.

Shortly after this I was induced by some of my boon companions to join them in a carousal that lasted through the night, and I was not home until long after

"The grey morn had dappled into day."

I found that my mother had been sitting up for me, and I was ashamed to look at her tired and grief-worn countenance as she gently and tearfully upbraided me for my

Leaving Canterbury.

71

unkind behaviour. My father was exceedingly angry with me, and told me in plain terms that I should not remain under his roof any longer than I conformed to the law of the household. I found that matters were growing more and more serious at home, and that the breach was widening every day. Under these circumstances, I gained my father's reluctant consent to my leaving for the army, and having obtained a letter of introduction and recommendation from the Major-General to the Adjutant of the Royal Artillery at Woolwich, my little wardrobe was packed up, and I was started to London to see my eldest brother and sister, who were residing there, before entering the army.

I remember how grieved my father and mother were at my going out to breakfast, on the morning I left home, with the family that I had been accustomed to spend the greater part of my time with, when not engaged in other pursuits with my juvenile companions.

I distributed the few knick-knacks I possessed among my younger brothers and sisters, and gave my "ChurchService," a scrap-book, and a favourite canary bird with a nightingale note, to her who had obtained great influence over me, and who, I verily believe, was not a little concerned at my leaving Canterbury. I received in return for these a small ring with a heart tied to it by a truelover's knot.

The parting on this occasion was such as might have been expected; mutual promises were given and responded to, and fair visions of future happiness were indulged on both sides that were never to be realized.

The leave-taking at home was a far more serious affair. I kept up my courage as best I could, till I heard the door closed behind me, and then my choked feelings found expression in a flood of tears, which were only interrupted by my taking my seat on the top of the "Eagle" coach for London.

MANHOOD: ITS STRUGGLES, DUTIES, TRIALS,

RECREATIONS, AND RESPONSIBILITIES.

"In carrying out any work of improvement, or of reformation in your character, you must begin by acting in such a way as conscience tells you is right. You must not wait till you are completely in a proper frame of mind; and defer doing what a virtuous man would do till you have the dispositions and inclinations of a virtuous man. It is only by practising virtue that you can bring yourself to delight in virtue."

ONDON had always been in my youthful imaginings the place of all places in the world which I had a strong desire to see; and to feel that I was actually on my way there was almost more than I could believe. The journey in those days was a very different thing to what it is now, when a couple of hours by the rail puts you down within a stone's throw of London Bridge. The coaches, a continuous stream running to and from Dover to London, were well horsed, and a ride on one of them, as an outside passenger, was perhaps as pleasant a one as any to be found in all England.

I remember that it was a bright cloudless autumn day, "bathed in rich amber-glowing floods of light," with the foliage of orange, and brown and red, more beautiful than any painter, save Turner, who dared to be natural, could put on canvass, lest he should be scouted as extravagant and unnatural. The undulations of the country all through the journey made the views at every turn of the road new and interesting. The road from Canterbury to London