Should we be melancholy, boys?
Why, soldiers, why,
Whose business 'tis to die!"

I cannot discover, however, that the general has ever run any great risk
of dying, excepting from an apoplexy, or indigestion. He criticises all
the battles on the Continent, and discusses the merits of the
commanders, but never fails to bring the conversation ultimately to
Tippoo Saib and Seringapatam. I am told that the general was a perfect
champion at drawing-rooms, parades, and watering-places, during the late
war, and was looked to with hope and confidence by many an old lady,
when labouring under the terror of Buonaparte's invasion.

He is thoroughly loyal, and attends punctually on levees when in town.
He has treasured up many remarkable sayings of the late king,
particularly one which the king made to him on a field-day,
complimenting him on the excellence of his horse. He extols the whole
royal family, but especially the present king, whom he pronounces the
most perfect gentleman and best whist-player in Europe. The general
swears rather more than is the fashion of the present day; but it was
the mode of the old school. He is, however, very strict in religious
matters, and a staunch churchman. He repeats the responses very loudly
in church, and is emphatical in praying for the king and royal family.

At table his loyalty waxes very fervent with his second bottle, and the
song of "God save the King" puts him into a perfect ecstasy. He is
amazingly well contented with the present state of things, and apt to
get a little impatient at any talk about national ruin and agricultural
distress. He says he has travelled about the country as much as any man,
and has met with nothing but prosperity; and to confess the truth, a