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From the brief and guarded indications given by his sister Caroline, then a child of seven, sitting on the outer doorstep and watching all that took place with the wondering eyes of childhood; from her picture of the mourning mother, and the parcel which she carried containing her son's accoutrements; from her view of the disguised brother stealing past, and from the prohibition even to mention his name, it is plain that William Herschel was smuggled out of Hanover in the summer of 1757. What we might call the conscription was then in full force in town and country to supply the beaten army of Cumberland with recruits. But Herschel was a soldier, and was running away from the colours. He was of a weakly constitution, growing rapidly, and unfit for the hardships of a soldier's life. So his mother said and, perhaps, also thought. For three months both Hanover and England had been expecting something to happen in the war with France. The Duke of Cumberland, of Culloden fame, found it necessary to go abroad to "take command of the army of observation." But so ill was he liked in England that, though "the drum was beat, none would list." The soldiers under his command in Hanover, and a motley crew