when they heard the action gaining on their front and rear." In his arguments as to the best mode of utilising the volunteers, we perfectly coincide. He says that the argument that the volunteers could lie behind hedges and pick off the enemy would be admirable, could we leave out of sight the fact that the invaders understand the use of rifles equally well, and would not passively stand to be shot down. What they want, in a word, is to be brigaded out with troops, and thus acquire a knowledge of their duties. His concluding remarks are so practical, that we cannot refrain from quoting them, for, although written at the commencement of the movement, they are equally true at the present day :

In actual service the volunteers will be valuable behind works, they releasing a corresponding number of regular troops from garrison services; but it cannot be too strongly impressed upon them that, unless they will submit to the necessary training as soldiers, and are complete in organisation as infantry, no general in the world will place any confidence in them as a field force. The occasional embodiment of our volunteers at some of the great camps, as before recommended, would appear the most available way of training them for general service. It would also have another good effect, by demonstrating to many who are now carried away by their enthusiasm, how far they may be really calculated or prepared for the necessary trials and sacrifices incidental upon taking the field in the emergency. It will then be perceived by many that their age, want of physical stamina, or inability to dispense with habitual comforts which may be absolutely necessary to them, would render them totally unequal to the task they would willingly undertake. It would be far better that these should be weeded from the field corps of the volunteers, and not remain to give a false appearance of their strength for actual service.

Let us look this question of invasion fairly in the face; we have already said that the volunteer movement has produced a very respectable feeling among the French nation, but we doubt whether the army, on whom the invasion would depend, is of the same opinion. We fully recognise the value of the volunteers, but we are surprised that a nation which prides itself on being practical, should have stopped half way. We have raised a body of one hundred and fifty thousand men at our own expense, certainly a magnificent addition to the regular army, but the war taxation is not in the slightest degree diminished. The great advantage we hoped to derive from the movement was the feeling of security it would produce; but that has certainly not arisen, if we may judge from the defensive preparations being made by the government, as distinct from

the nation.

To obtain from the volunteer movement all the advantages it offers, we think the first and most imperious necessity is a species of national waroffice, whence should emanate all the regulations for the guidance of the volunteers. Such a body would pronounce on the last instance on all moot points, and from their decision there must be no appeal. In this way the existing anomalies would be removed, and the volunteers obtain that cohesion which they need. The next great point would be the formation, as we have urged, of artillery and cavalry to support the light infantry in the field, for events may occur ere long which may compel us to embark all our regular troops, and then the volunteers would be thrown on their own resources. This is a point of such vital importance that it must be discussed more fully than it has been yet done.

There would be very little difficulty in establishing a most powerful

volunteer artillery. We have the cadres of forty-eight militia artillery regiments, whose guns might be turned to good purpose in defending our coasts, if we had only the men to work them. If the volunteers will not join this arm, they must be compelled to do so by refusing to permit more than a certain ratio of riflemen to be enrolled in each town or county without a certain proportion of artillery. The volunteer movement we hold to be a great experiment: whether England cannot be placed in an efficient posture of defence without any excessive increase of our standing army; and to effect that it must be essentially practical.

Taking the movement as a whole, however, it must be regarded, as we have said, in the light of a great success. If matters go on as they have done, by next spring we shall have at least a quarter of a million of volunteers under arms. We would therefore earnestly urge that the Enfield should be finally selected as the regulation arm. It is a weapon perfect enough for all practical purposes. Rich men may like to have a fancy arm on the precision of whose fire they can depend, and are ready to pay a fancy price for it, but when it comes to the armament of our male population, surely the question of economy should be the primary object of study. When the movement becomes really national, and no Englishman considers his house complete unless he has a rifle in the corner, it will be vain to expect that individuals can incur such an expense; a large proportion of the nation will reasonably look to government for arms, and, in that case, they ought to be only too thankful for such a splendid musket as the Enfield has proved itself on many a wellfought field.

The advocates of firing versus drill try to draw an analogy in their favour from America and Switzerland, but we do not see how any comparison can be drawn between England and either of those countries. It is true that America possesses an enormous strength in her militia system, but she is stronger still in three thousand miles of water separating her from any martial nation. She knows that she runs but very slight risk of invasion, and hence her militia answers her purpose. But, at the same time, the government at Washington is always careful to guard against any eventualities by keeping up the nucleus of a regular force which could be rapidly developed. In Switzerland, again, in addition to an armed population, a proportionately large army is maintained; but that country possesses still more powerful means of defence in its natural fortresses. When we turn to England, we find none of the conditions requisite for immunity from attack. Were hostilities, by any deplorable catastrophe, to break out with France, our first object would be to send off every available man of our regular army for the defence of our scattered colonies; and we should have mainly to depend on our Channel fleet as a security against invasion, while an army was being rapidly organised. But, supposing that the French were to commence the war in a different manner from that anticipated, and that their fleets slipped out from Brest and Toulon to make a raid on our homeward-bound mercantile fleets, in such a case, all prudential considerations would be cast to the winds; the English nation would insist on our fleets pursuing the French, were it round the world. It is just possible, then, that while these events were occurring on the ocean, the ruler of the Freuch might fancy the right moment had arrived for the invasion of our coasts, and make a simul

taneous descent on four points. Where would be our second line of defence in that case? Where have we a large armed camp in which to collect our strength, and prepare to crush the invader? In such a case, we should have to fall back on our volunteer riflemen, and, however flattering may be the opinion we entertain of them, we should be sorry to see them take the field unsupported by artillery and cavalry, or without the requisite amount of discipline and drill which imparts so much moral strength in the battle-field.

It is because we put faith in the volunteer movement that we urge and re-urge these vital points. We are sorry to see them going in the wrong direction, and would gladly see them turn back while there is yet time. We only too willingly recognise the admirable spirit which has animated them from the commencement: the patience with which they have endured the weather, and the aptitude they have evinced when brigaded together. But for that very reason we desire to see them striving for perfection, and not stopping half way, for they deprive themselves of much of their value by their exclusive devotion to the rifle. The matter should be taken up in a practical spirit, and we feel assured it could be carried to a successful issue, for we can say from practical experience that artillery is a most fascinating arm. That such battalions can be formed without any difficulty, we have the experiment of Woolwich dockyard to prove, and we want to see that example followed in every county in the kingdom. It is a poor excuse to urge that artillery would only be needed on the coast, for we must not risk all on the hazard of a die: we should take into consideration the possibility of an enemy landing.

To prevent this, it will be urged, we are about to spend twelve millions sterling on the recommendation of the National Commission. The volunteer movement was a step in the right direction, and, had it been carried out logically, we should have heard nothing of these millions to be expended in fortifications. But, in order to be successful, the armament of the nation should be general, and those persons disinclined to arms ought to have provided a substitute, or, at any rate, have subscribed towards equipping the sinews of the country. This has been the case, however, to a very small extent, and the result is, that the volunteer rifles have degenerated to a great extent into clubs, composed of men who cannot devote the proper time to their conversion into regular soldiers. The movement has, in fact, been restricted to a class, and the effect is now too visible. The rifle volunteers cannot be regarded as constituting the true defence of the country. They might prove of sufficient service in the event of an invasion by supporting the regular army, but in other respects they have not filled up the gap; our military estimates must still go on increasing, and the end will be that only the tailors will benefit by the movement.

We are sorry to be compelled to utter such harsh truths, for we have been consistent advocates of the national armament from the commencement, regarding it, as we did, as a cheap insurance paid for peace. But if no saving is to result in consequence of the movement—if millions are to be spent on our fortifications, and our regular army increased, we say, in all humility, that the movement has failed in carrying out what was intended. We hoped to see in it a modification of the Prussian Landwehr system, the cheapest mode of defence ever yet discovered; but, instead of that, everybody seems to have acted on his own account, and that

cohesion which would have assured the vitality of the movement has been sadly neglected. Corps have sprung into existence throughout the country, perfectly careless, as it seems, of each other's presence, but forming close boroughs; the spirit of coteries and cliqueism has been rampant, and we fear that the volunteers will have to begin again if they wish to bring matters to a successful result.

Much of this, we grant, is owing to the want of any authority to regulate the movement. Government could not, or would not, take the initiative, and the volunteers have been left to drift about at their will. The War-office began by throwing cold water on the movement, but, finding it was growing over their heads, they offered no further opposition. But they did not take the movement in hand, and, by laying down certain broad rules, ensure its efficiency, and render it a permanent factor in the defensive resources of the country.

We would not have it supposed for a moment that we are actuated by any unfriendly feeling towards the volunteers who have already joined; on the contrary, we heartily thank them for the excellent example they have offered their fellow-countrymen. All we wish to urge is the absolute necessity of rendering the movement as perfect as possible, by the addition of the other arms of the service. We fully coincide, however, in the spirit which animates the following lines, written by a distinguished member of the volunteer corps:

There never was a time when it was so incumbent on the people of this glorious country of ours to arm themselves-there never was a time when the people were in such need of united efforts to become prepared for any emergency, and there never was a time when those efforts were so nobly made as now. In the beginning of the present century the people rushed into the volunteer force to save themselves from their otherwise inevitable fate of being "drawn" for the militia, or worse, of being "pressed" for other branches of the service. They joined the volunteers, were exempt from the militia, were equipped by government, and cared nothing for the movement. Now they have no pressure from without; but their beloved Queen appeals to their patriotism and their loyalty, their love of country and their home affections, and the respond is one which does honour to them and to her. The volunteers now are volunteers in every sense of the word. They devote their time to the cause; they purchase with their own money their own arms, uniforms, and equipments, and they impose upon themselves restrictions and fines to keep strict discipline and order among themselves, and all this for love of country and for the sake of upholding national greatness and liberty. Those whose means enable them to equip themselves, do so-those whose means enable them to give large sums of money instead, also do so; and those who have patriotism in their hearts, but whose means do not allow of them doing as others, are equipped free of all cost out of the general funds; but all do it with the same patriotic feelings, the same love of their fatherland, the same warm-hearted loyalty to their sovereign.

All we ask is, that the remarks we have thought it our duty to make will be accepted in the spirit in which they are offered, and we sincerely trust that our suggestions, which are the result of considerable thought and investigation, may be speedily carried out. Then-but not till then -the defence of the country may be safely entrusted to the British Volunteers, and we should possess an army capable of withstanding the world in arms against us.

"IN MEMORIAM."

BY MRS. ALFRED M. MUNSTER.

DEAD! well, thy life had little joy enough,

And 'twere no tenderness to wish thee here:
The skies were dark, the way was bare and rough,
Along the path which led thee to thy bier.
"Tis over now the struggle and the sin,

The bitter slander, and more bitter truth:
Thou never more shalt quail before the din

With which the world condemned thine erring youth.

I will not weep-I dare not weep for thee;
Tears were unmeet beside so scorned a grave.

I try to joy that death hath set thee free,

Poor wreck! torn, tost so long on sorrow's wave! But when I thus would still my aching heart,

Upriseth all the dim and shadowy past,

And ghosts of buried memories upstart
To see thee lying quiet there at last.

I mourn not for thy death, but for thy life,

For what thou wert, and what thou mightst have been;

The early promise, and the latter strife,

And, oh! the awful gulf that yawns between.

Tears! Let the healing rain of sorrow fall

For those who blameless live, lamented die.
Thou hadst no hand but mine to spread thy pall,
No friend to lay thee in the grave-save I.

Oh, once beloved! why didst thou plume thy wing,
Untried and feeble, for a prouder flight?
Wealth, station, were not mine to bear or bring,
In those old days which rise to mock my sight;
I had but love to give-and that was thine.

Why didst thou yearn to prove a nobler fate?
Perchance in fame and fortune's swift decline
Thou lookedst back-too late, alas! too late.

But that is past; 'tis true I have not known
Another love to fill thy vacant place;
True that I watched thy course unseen, alone,
Through every phase-short triumph, long disgrace.

Ay! and when idle tongues reviled thy fame,

The burning flush of shame would stain my brow,
To think that what I scarcely dared to name
Was all the lot life held for such as thou.

Sleep dreamless now! and I will school my heart
To think of thee as thou wert wont to be,
Ere in thy soul deceit had claimed a part,

And thou wert still unstained, and true to me.

I will return no more, nor will look back;
From life's wild, weary turmoil thou art gone,
And hopes nor fears no more shall haunt the track
My patient steps shall follow-all alone.