of the day, declined to make any
alteration.

The affairs of Colonel Douglass, of another
gallant cavalry colonel (an earl), and of
Lieutenant Perry, are all fresh in the memory of this
generation.

Any one who takes the trouble of winnowing
and classifying the huge bulk of these investigations
will be struck by one curious feature, that
out of every hundred about seventy per cent
are "for the unofficer-like and ungentlemanly"
offence of "conversion," to use the technical legal
term, in some shape of the regimental moneys or
stores. It is curious that this species of default,
so rare among other societies of gentlemen,
should crop up so abundantly among individuals
who are titularly supposed to be above such
vices; unless, indeed, it be part of that pleasant
ironical fiction which makes members of the
guild of solicitors gentlemen by act of parliament.
A certain per-centage, too, is for the
offence—also "unofficer-like"—of purloining
articles of personal property; and there is a
most extraordinary finding on record, which
deserves allusion here. An officer and gentleman
was charged with "shameful and scandalous
conduct in stealing a pocket-handkerchief, the
property of another officer, and with also stealing
a bottle of wine from the mess-room, and at
the same time allowing it to be charged in the
account of a captain." This gentleman is found
guilty in a curious jumble of censure and
extenuation, and is sentenced to be suspended
from his rank and pay for six months. There
surely could be no mitigated shape of stealing
known even to martial law—a purloining "avec
des circonstances atténuantes"—and if it were a
genuine full-bodied theft, it was a ridiculously
light sentence. Another offender was brought to
trial for the "unofficer-like" (a compound clearly
suggested to the military lawyers by no other
word in the world than "unsportsmanlike") "and
ungentlemanly conduct in quitting Hilsea
barracks when in debt to a poor widow woman
that lets lodgings one pound three shillings and
fivepence, and to a soldier's wife for washing
thirteen and eightpence halfpenny." This
curious charge is only redeemed by the exquisite
bit of ungrammatical bathos, the "poor widow
that lets lodgings," whose case is so handsomely
taken up by the authorities.

Another indictment charges a prisoner with
having "lifted his clenched hand and struck the
said lieutenant a blow on the face in a most
horrid manner,"—such conduct, it adds, perhaps
with a little superfluity, "being highly
prejudicial to his majesty's service." Curiosity will,
no doubt, have been excited as to the character
of this specially "horrid manner" of inflicting a
blow.

Another singular revision of a finding will
cause astonishment. An officer had been charged
with the offence of drawing regimental pay and
allowances for a soldier who, it was proved, had
left the army long before. Of which charge the
court virtually acquitted the prisoner, admitting,
indeed, that the money had been so drawn, but
without any fraud or culpability whatsoever.
However, "his Royal Highness the Prince
Regent is much surprised at the inconsistency
of this finding, &c., inasmuch as the court admits
the prisoner to have committed the act
described in the charge, &c., which is not only
most incorrect in itself, but contrary to every
principle of law, order, and regulation." It is
well known that "every principle of law," as it
is understood outside the barrack-room, requires
a certain malice and intention to constitute a
criminal offence, but because here the court had
found the technical words of the charge proved,
without this necessary purpose and malice, he
was to be considered guilty!

Another sort of Dogberry decision is worth
disentombing. A young subaltern being brought
to trial for the old ding-dong charge of
"unofficer-like and ungentlemanly conduct" in
"making a noise" in a room, and further, "in
continuing to do so after receiving orders to
the contrary," was found guilty of those offences,
but, incomprehensibly and mysteriously acquitted
of the "unofficer-like and ungentlemanly
conduct;" as it appeared "that a certain degree
of obedience was paid to the colonel's orders."
The "unofficer-like conduct" would appear, to
mere civilian eyes, to have been a description
of the succeeding charges, and not a charge
itself. But the principles of martial law are
inscrutable.

Captain Scott was indicted for "not moving
in the theatre to let the major pass, and then
only putting his sword out of the way in the
most ungracious way possible, and still persisting
not to (sic) move his person, and then
preventing the major to return (sic) to his place."
Pure civilian minds are here again at a loss
which to admire most, the curious offence itself,
or the strangely elegant military Saxon in which
it is shaped.

Among the heinous offences which these
expansive terms "unofficer-like and ungentlemanly"
cover, it would appear that writing to the
public prints is the most enormous. It is the
unpardonable sin. Some one brought forward in a
morning journal an official censure of the Prince
Regent's, in reference to a deceased officer, and
a military friend of the latter addressed a
letter to the Morning Chronicle with anonymous
signature, in very calm and temperate
remonstrance. Unluckily, at the end he happened
to make the reasonable comment that the Prince
Regent's opinion was not shared in by the twelve
or thirteen other members of the court. This
became military treason. The writer was hunted
down and dragged from his concealment. He
was tried, found guilty, and sentenced to be
cashiered: but the court, in singularly earnest
language, recommended him to mercy, on the
very obvious ground that there was clearly no
wilful intention of being disrespectful to his
"Royal Highness the Prince Regent." But the
First Gentleman in Europe, one of whose
gentlemanly virtues was never to forget a free
remark either on his person or his character,
took not the slightest notice of the recommendation