ating on the chance of employment on some foreign embassy.
Vincent himself had married one of his daughters to a neighbouring
squire, whom he denominated an "unlicked cub," but an honest man. Thus I
had the knowledge of all that the country could furnish, and thus--"runs
the world away."

All now was excitement and activity. The intelligence of the French
advance into the territories of our old and very helpless ally, awoke
England at once. The feeble and perfectly fruitless negotiations, by
which the slide from disgust into war is generally managed, had produced
their effect; and France, furious for its prey, and England, steady and
stubborn, for the first time were brought face to face. The summons, so
long wished for, at length reached us; and the Guards were ordered for
embarkation. We received it in the spirit of a jubilee. All had been
prepared. And on the night before our final parade, I received my
appointment to a company. Our parade, next morning, was one which I
believe was never forgotten by any individual who had the good fortune
to witness it. Of all the striking ceremonials which I have ever seen,
it was the most striking. The king had given notice of his intention to
be present, and bid us farewell. At six o'clock, the three regiments
were drawn up in front of the Horse-Guards, a body of three thousand
men, and finer-looking troops never bore arms. All the avenues to the
park were crowded with the multitude. Exactly at the half-hour, a rush
of the people towards the parade showed that the king, always punctual,
was at hand. He came, surrounded by general officers, with the Prince of
Wales, then a most chivalric figure, in the uniform of his regiment of
light dragoons, and the Duke of York, as a field-marshal. The enthusiasm
of the troops could not be restrained, as this brilliant staff
approached their line; and three cheers were given with all the zeal of
honest loyalty. There are times when tears are the only substitute for
speech; and the king, one of the most kindhearted of men, visibly shed
tears at this reception. Another _cortege_ now approached; they were the
carriages of the queen and princesses. The scene now became almost
painful. There was many a tear from royal and noble eyes--the impulse of
high emotion, not of sorrow--or if tinged with the thoughts which always
shade the name of war, yet undegraded by weakness. The multitude caught
the feeling; the shouts subsided; and all was weeping and w