some of the officers that he might not yet be dead, and, while they were deliberating what should be done, Corporal Robert Shields volunteered to go out to the front from the fifth parallel and bring the body in. It was a daring act of courage, all the more deserving of admiration that it was dictated solely by a feeling of humanity without any expectation of reward. The difference of rank does not always prevent friendships from springing up between officers and men, and young Dyneley had found the way to the hearts of all who knew him. Corporal Shields was not blind to the danger he incurred; he knew that he carried his life, as it were, in his hand, but he was prepared to risk everything to save his officer. In the Homeric age it would have been said that some invisible goddess watched over him and turned aside every hostile blow. He groped his way over the field, covered with the slain, till he reached the spot where poor Dyneley lay. Our engraving represents the discovery of the body. The poor lieutenant is lying on his back, still alive, but with the tide of life ebbing fast away; the corporal, with sorrow and sympathy depicted in every feature of his manly, bearded face, is bending over him, with one hand outstretched and the other grasping his rifle. He would willingly have raised the boyish figure in his arms and borne him back to his comrades, but it was too late; all that he could do was to hurry back in search of medical assistance. He passed through a heavy fire of musketry unhurt, and reached the trenches, where he found Dr. Sylvester, the assistant-surgeon of the regiment, who at once consented to return to the spot where Dyneley lay. He was still alive, but human skill could avail him nothing; all that the tenderest friendship could do was done by Sylvester, who dressed his wounds and supported him with stimulants. Shields returned to the trenches and persuaded some of his comrades to accompany him and to assist in carrying off the body of the dying adjutant. The Emperor of the French, on hearing of this heroic action, conferred on Corporal Shields the Cross of the Legion of Honour, and our Queen bestowed on him the Cross which bears her own name. No one will grudge it to him or to Dr. Sylvester. Mere bravery may often border on bloodthirstiness; but valour combined with humanity is the most godlike of all virtues. Such a man as Corporal Shields is an honour to the British army, and he deserves to receive honourable mention amongst the most fearless of England’s soldiery.