of their past deeds and feelings, the abominable actions mentioned by the municipality related with little variation long before that narrative was published; told however with sorrow for the sufferers and indignation against the perpetrators, for these last were not so numerous as might be supposed from the extent of the calamities they inflicted. [Sidenote: Colonel Cadell’s Memoirs.] It is a common but shallow and mischievous notion, that a villain makes never the worse soldier for an assault, because the appetite for plunder supplies the place of honour; as if the compatability of vice and bravery rendered the union of virtue and courage unnecessary in warlike matters. In all the host which stormed San Sebastian there was not a man who being sane would for plunder only have encountered the danger of that assault, yet under the spell of discipline all rushed eagerly to meet it. Discipline however has its root in patriotism, or how could armed men be controuled at all, and it would be wise and far from difficult to graft moderation and humanity upon such a noble stock. The modern soldier is not necessarily the stern bloody-handed man the ancient soldier was, there is as much difference between them as between the sportsman and the butcher; the ancient warrior, fighting with the sword and reaping his harvest of death when the enemy was in flight, became habituated to the act of slaying. The modern soldier seldom uses his bayonet, sees not his peculiar victim fall, and exults not over mangled limbs as proofs of personal prowess. Hence preserving his original feelings, his natural abhorrence of murder and crimes of violence, he differs not from other men unless often engaged in the assault of towns, where rapacity, lust, and inebriety, unchecked by the restraints of discipline, are excited by temptation. It is said that no soldier can be restrained after storming a town, and a British soldier least of all, because he is brutish and insensible to honor! Shame on such calumnies! What makes the British soldier fight as no other soldier ever fights? His pay! Soldiers of all nations receive pay. At the period of this assault, a serjeant of the twenty-eighth regiment, named Ball, had been sent with a party to the coast from Roncesvalles, to make purchases for his officers. He placed the money he was entrusted with, two thousand dollars, in the hands of a commissary and having secured a receipt persuaded his party to join in the storm. He survived, reclaimed the money, made his purchases, and returned to his regiment. And these are the men, these the spirits who are called too brutish to work upon except by fear. It is precisely fear to which they are most insensible.