Before I had been three days at Brighton, my purse was in a rapid consumption, and the air of that fashionable watering-place was in no way calculated to recover it from the effects of the shock it had received in London. I beheld it dwindling to a shadow; and what was worse, there was no soothing restorative in the hands of its physicians, Doctors Greenwood and Cox, of Craig's Court, London. In consequence of this decay of my purse, I passed Sunday in rather a sombre mood, and, with the exception of marching to church with my regiment, I had nothing to lighten the forenoon. In this disposition I sat down to write to all my friends, and in the descriptions, wherein I detailed to them my proceedings, lived my time in the service over again. I described my setting out from London “_to join_”—my arrival at the _barracks_—_reporting_ myself to the _commanding officer_—my servant—my preparations for the mess—mess drums and fifes—the dinner—thirty _honours of wine_—the band (not a word about the “singers” and their books)—our serenade—my first parade—my attendance of officers' drills—mode of saluting with the sword at the “_present_”—account of orders for _marching_ to embark for Spain (this we only _expected_ at the regiment)—a sentimental adieu, and injunctions in case I should _fall_—heroism and glory—England and his Majesty! In short, I wrote from one till six that day, and not less than half a dozen letters. In the last, which was to my father, I did not forget the main point—I spoke of _finance_ in such a way, that I received in return three sides of a sheet of paper closely written and crossed, containing, however, a handsome remittance, which happily arrived just as I concluded my FIRST WEEK IN THE SERVICE. FOOTNOTES: [1] The practical joke of changing signs from one house to another, well nigh cost some officers of infantry their lives, some years ago, in the good city of Bath. [2] For a long time, the Author of this sketch has sought an opportunity of expressing his gratitude to the gallant General above alluded to; but has never had that opportunity, from having been always employed on a service different from that in which he commenced. The Author now avails himself of the present occasion, publicly to acknowledge his sense of the paternal kindness he received in the affair alluded to; and trusts, that should these pages meet the General's eye, he will consider this note as a token of the Author's gratitude. [3] This alludes to a case in which the magistrate censured a midshipman for appearing in uniform in the streets. His worship said, that if the officer had business at the Admiralty, he might have gone there in uniform; but it was proper on no other occasion. THE SOLDIER'S ORPHAN. “Heu! miserande puer!”—VIRGIL.