by step,
until, from one grade to another, he had amassed a large fortune, and
sufficient income to enable him to incur, not only the expenses of
an election and a seat in Parliament, but also those of a bitterly
hostile election petition, enormously extravagant in every way. I
succeeded in winning his case, and never was more proud of a victory.
It had lasted many days.

There is one matter almost of a historical character, which I mention
in order to do all the justice in my power to a man who, although
deserving of reprobation, is also entitled to admiration for the
chivalry of his true nature. I speak of it with some hesitation, and
therefore without the name. Those who are interested in his memory
will know to whom I allude, and possibly be grateful for the tribute
to his character, however much it may have been sullied by his
temporary absence of manly discretion.

He was charged with assaulting a young lady in a railway train between
Aldershot and Waterloo. There was much of the melodramatic in the
incidents, and much of the righteous indignation of the public before
trial. There was judgment and condemnation in every virtuous mind. The
assault alleged was doubtless of a most serious character, if proved.
I say nothing of what might have been proved or not proved; but,
speaking as an advocate, I will not hesitate to affirm that
cross-examination may sometimes save one person's character without in
the least affecting that of another.

But this was not to be. Whatever line of defence my experience might
have suggested, I was debarred by his express command from putting a
single question.

I say to his honour that, as a gentleman and a British officer, he
preferred to take to himself the ruin of his own character, the
forfeiture of his commission in the army, the loss of social status,
and _all_ that could make life worth having, to casting even a doubt
on the lady's veracity in the witness-box.

My instructions crippled me, but I obeyed my client, of course,
implicitly in the letter and the spirit, even though to some extent he
may have entailed upon himself more ignominy and greater severity of
punishment than I felt he deserved.

He died in Egypt, never having been reinstated in the British army.
I knew but little of him until this catastrophe occurred; but the
manliness of his defence showed him to be naturally a man of honour,
who, having been guilty of serious misconduct, did all he could to
amend t