r; I remained alone, supporting the senseless form of
my father; the light had been extinguished by the fall, and an almost
total darkness reigned in the room. The form pressed heavily against my
bosom--at last methought it moved. Yes, I was light, there was a heaving
of the breast, and then a gasping. Were those words which I heard? Yes,
they were words, low and indistinct at first, and then audible. The mind
of the dying man was reverting to former scenes. I heard him mention
names which I had often heard him mention before. It was an awful
moment; I felt stupefied, but I still contrived to support my dying
father. There was a pause, again my father spoke: I heard him speak of
Minden, and of Meredith, the old Minden sergeant, and then he uttered
another name, which at one period of his life was much on his lips, the
name of --- but this is a solemn moment! There was a deep gasp: I shook,
and thought all was over; but I was mistaken--my father moved and revived
for a moment; he supported himself in bed without my assistance. I make
no doubt that for a moment he was perfectly sensible, and it was then
that, clasping his hands, he uttered another name clearly, distinctly--it
was the name of Christ. With that name upon his lips, the brave old
soldier sank back upon my bosom, and, with his hands still clasped
yielded up his soul.

* * * * *

I should say that I scarcely walked less than thirty miles about the big
city on the day of my first arrival. Night came on, but still I was
walking about, my eyes wide open, and admiring everything that presented
itself to them. Everything was new to me, for everything is different in
London from what it is elsewhere--the people, their language, the horses,
the tout ensemble--even the stones of London are different from others--at
least it appeared to me that I had never walked with the same ease and
facility on the flag stones of a country town as on those of London; so I
continued roving about till night came on, and then the splendour of some
of the shops particularly struck me. 'A regular Arabian nights'
entertainment!' said I, as I looked into one on Cornhill, gorgeous with
precious merchandise, and lighted up with lustres, the rays of which were
reflected from a hundred mirrors.

But, notwithstanding the excellence of the London pavement, I began about
nine o'clock to feel myself thoroughly tired; painfully and slowly did I
drag my feet along. I also felt very m