the British soldier is supposed to possess special powers in that line; and even the hungriest recruit appears to be satisfied for the time being. The same ceremony of cleaning up that we witnessed this morning is about to commence as we enter the room, so we may as well have a look at the regimental institutions before strolling down to look on for a few minutes at the cricket-match between "A" and "C" companies, about which some loud arguments reach our ears as we enter the canteen. This is a large building, and is, in fact, the regimental liquor-shop. No wine or spirits are sold here, only beer and porter; great pains are taken to insure the liquor being of the best quality, and it is sold at prices that defy the competition of the publicans in the town. A number of men with tin pots before them are talking and arguing as we enter; though their voices are raised, as Tommy likes to raise his voice when ever airing his opinions, yet there is no disorder, any tendency to which would be soon suppressed by the smart corporal on canteen duty, who is pacing up and down, occasionally offering a remark on the subject under discussion. The reason that we see so many men here just now is that men are not allowed to take beer to the barrack-room, and in consequence a visit has to be paid to the canteen for the wherewithal to wash down their dinners. In the old days there used undoubtedly to be a great deal of drinking in the army, and though even yet there are a certain number of men the worse for wear on pay-nights, yet there is not the systematic drinking of old, when every item in the soldier's life was reduced to the common denominator of beer. Next to the canteen is the grocery-bar, where, in a well-managed regiment, every conceivable thing that can come under the head of groceries, from garden seeds to black-lead and pipe-clay, can be bought at more reasonable prices than in the shops in the town; in fact, a number of the articles in chief demand are sold at a loss, the loss being covered by the profit from the sale of the beer, so the drinkers pay for the luxuries of their more sober comrades.

But we have not yet visited the regimental institution, an omission that we must repair if we want to see anything of the social life of the private soldier.

VOL. XCVII.-No. 582.-110

It is housed in that smart-looking redbrick building we see beyond the canteen; and, passing through the swingdoors, we find ourselves in a large, wellventilated room, one end of which is taken up by a full-sized billiard table, round which an interested crowd are watching a game, which bids fair to be a long-drawn-out one, between two players who make up in strength what they lack in science. Some other men are starting a game of bagatelle at an adjoining table, the stakes, from the scraps of conversation we overhear, being apparently pots of beer, to be discussed with much solemnity and many arguments by-and-by in the canteen. The rest of the room is occupied by large green - baize - covered tables, on which are strewn a varied assortment of newspapers and magazines, which, judging from their well-thumbed appearance, are in constant request; while the walls are decorated with a number of prints, chiefly of military subjects, De Neuville evidently being a favorite artist. At one end of the room a painted drop-scene hints at the presence of a stage where entertainments are periodically given by the regimental dramatic troupe, a society abounding in talent, chiefly of the melodramatic order. The glass door you see in that corner leads into the coffee-bar, where excellent suppers are served from six o'clock until nine, at the modest price of one penny and upwards; for a penny a man can get a bowl of soup and a chunk of bread, or a bowl of porridge, or a plate of sweetened rice-a favorite dish; and cups of steaming coffee and bread and butter can also be bought for the same sum. As Tommy's last official meal is his tea, served at the early hour of four o'clock, it is eminently desirable that he should be able to get something to keep him going till his breakfast at eight o'clock next morning. In the old days the hiatus was filled up by unlimited beer, but now we have changed all that. Before we leave for the cricket-match, to which we see a number of men already strolling down, we ought to have a look in at the sergeants' mess, which we shall find at the other side of the square. This mess is used only by the sergeants of the battalion-the corporals messing in the barrackroom with the men--and I think you will agree with me that the sergeants seem to do themselves fairly well. Their com

fort depends to a considerable extent on the ability of their caterer, a sergeant, who usually holds the office for three months at a time; but on the whole they have little to complain of, and live very well for a very moderate expenditure. The furniture and the fine billiard table belong to government, but the plate, china, glass, and cutlery, and the pictures ornamenting the walls, are the property of the mess, and give it a very comfortable and homelike appearance. There

is a liquor-bar at one end of the room, so no sergeant has to go to the canteen for a glass of beer; in fact, such an action would lead to trouble, as great stress is laid on the regulation forbidding noncommissioned officers to associate with private soldiers. With this object a separate room in the canteen for the use of corporals is now usual, and it is obvious that this must facilitate the maintenance of discipline.

Well, it is time we went down to the cricket-ground, so we leave the sergeants, who press us to look at their mess through the bottom of a tumbler, and cross the square toward the barrack gate. The square is unoccupied save for a little party in complete marching order, who, with fixed bayonets and rifles at the slope, only reach the end of the square to be turned about by the command of that tall corporal, and retrace their steps with an air of patient resignation, which has no effect in softening the heart of their guardian. These are the defaulters again whom we sa w on fatigue this morning, and they are now undergoing punishment drill, a process which does not seem congenial. Up and down, up and down, for every minute of a weary hour. How they must loathe the barrack square at the end of it; and how they must resolve to steer clear of trouble for the future!

It is not far to the cricket-ground, but I must warn you that you are not likely to witness much scientific play at an inter-company match, for though the British soldier is fond enough of the batting and even of the bowling part of cricket, his fielding is apt to be erratic, and he is not at all inclined to treat the game seriously. As we come on to the ground loud applause greets the downfall of the Captain of "A" company, who, though not a cricketer, thinks it his duty to play in order to encourage the men, and be

yond a doubt causes more amusement by the vigor of his play than would an expert in the ordinary sense. There is a marquee pitched, where tea is provided from the mess for any ladies of the regiment or their friends who may come; and some of the younger officers are lying on the grass in front of it, enjoying the ludicrous side of the game to its utmost, and now engaged in unmercifully chaffing the fallen hero, who, as he takes off his pads, is seriously thinking that he must be getting too old for cricket. The men of the rival companies, with the exception of the men actually in the field, are sprawling in picturesque groups under the trees which fringe one side of the ground, and are not chary of remarks and criticisms in the freest possible manner at every incident of the game. At a good stroke there are yells of applause, as there are when a fielder "muffs" a catch, or when a ball straighter than usual scatters wickets and bails in one rattling downfall. tling downfall. The dress of the players is eccentric. The only wearers of the orthodox flannels are the officers playing and a couple of men who are members of the regimental team, and who play with a condescending air, as if only putting in the time with a little practice.

Football is the soldier's game, after all; it gives more scope for strength and activity, and does not demand the continual practice and the quick eye necessary to success in cricket. At all times of the year the soldier will play football; if we were to go back to the barracks now, the odds are that we should find a number of men on the square kicking the ball about and practising little niceties of dribbling and of head-play, which afford much amusement to the clusters of men at every corner, in every style of military undress. Even after a hard day's route-march you will see the usual number kicking football on the square, and on manœuvres it is extraordinary the celerity with which the ball, which has reached the camp in some mysterious manner, makes its appearance after the work of the day is over. In barracks the ball-alley also is a favorite resort with the men, and all the afternoon it is pretty sure to be occupied, weather permitting.

On the whole, taking everything into consideration, Tommy Atkins has a very

good time in barracks; so much so, in fact, that it is not an uncommon thing to find men who rarely leave barracks, except on duty, from the time they arrive at a station till the "route" comes for a move elsewhere.

But we must not forget that we have to look in at the quadrille party to which the warrant-officers, staff-sergeants, and sergeants of the Royal Mudfordshire Regiment have invited us. The winter months are the great time for dances; at Christmas-time the corporals and even the private soldiers break out into these dissipations; but even the summer furnishes occasions, such as some regimental anniversary, which can only be fittingly celebrated by a dance. As we reach the gymnasium, the scene of the festivities, at nine o'clock, the hour for which we are invited, we find the building brilliantly lighted, and a group of men in fatigue dress hanging round the doors watching with interest the arrivals.

Entering the door, we are met by a sergeant, brushed, combed, pomatumed, and perfumed to the last degree, already perspiring from his exertions, who directs us to the cloak-room, and when we have relieved ourselves of our cloaks, conducts us to the ball-room and introduces us to the sergeant-major; this warrior, in the tightest of tunics, with his mustache waxed out till it resembles nothing so much as a pair of fixed bayonets, welcomes us heartily, and hands us over to a color sergeant, who is intrusted with the duty of providing us with partners. At one of these dances no shirking is al lowed, and if you are not accepting some sergeant's hospitality at the well-provided buffet, you are expected to be footing it to the music discoursed by some members of the fine band of the regiment, who are posted in ambush behind a screen of gay bunting. Another color sergeant is master of the ceremonies, and in a stentorian voice orders the company generally to take partners for the D'Alberts (pronounced Dee-Alberts). A few minutes sees us fatally involved in a maze of intricate figures, through which our partners steer us with mingled affability and condescension. Emerging in safety, breathless and bewildered, at the conclu

sion of the dance, it is etiquette to conduct your partner to her seat, and to betake yourself anew to the buffet to seek liquid consolation for your unusual exertions.

And so the dance goes gayly on. Some of the officers turn up with their wives, and the sergeant-major, with much solemnity, conducts the senior officer's wife through the mazes of a quadrille, in which he is evidently perfectly at home. As time goes on, things liven up a bit; the clusters round the buffet get thicker and more energetic; in one of the galleries a round game of cards is proceeding with much noise and merriment, and it is quite plain that every one means to thoroughly enjoy himself or herself, as the case may be.

This finishes our day in barracks, which you will admit is not such a dreary wilderness as it looks from the outside, and in which large numbers of men and women spend some of the happiest years of their lives.

I would have liked to talk to you about our soldier's life in India and in the colonies, where he spends such a considerable portion of his service, but space will not allow of my saying more than that the soldier who takes the most ordinary precautions to keep in health can have an even better time on foreign service than he can at home.

The great attraction of Indian service is that there are no fatigues"; useful natives do all that for Tommy, who, when his drills are over for the day, can find plenty of amusement in cantonments. Men of sporting tastes have plenty of opportunities of gratifying them at most Indian stations, as in each company two old-pattern rifles are kept, bored out so as to be used as shotguns, with which the "jheel" can be searched for snipe or duck, or even a shot fired for practice at the humble "paddy - bird." At some stations there are facilities for boating, boats being provided by government, and, in fact, wherever the soldier goes he will find everything done by the authorities and his officers to keep him in health and amusement. In the army it is fully recognized that "all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy."

THE

THE period extending from 1430 to 1530, which included the circumnavigation of Africa, the discovery of the Cape route to India, and the revelation to Europe of a New World on the other side of the Atlantic, has been aptly designated the "Century of Discoveries." It was a period of unprecedented activity in exploration, and nothing since has equalled in magnitude and novelty the circumnavigation of Africa and the discovery of America. But, so far as the fever for exploration is concerned, the increasing number of those who are smitten, and the interest and value of the results, the century which is so near its close may vie with that of which Columbus was the central figure. When we compare a map of the world in the beginning of the century with a good map showing our present knowledge of the earth's surface, some idea may be obtained of the vastness of the progress which has been accomplished. In actual extent and scientific value the exploring work of the expiring century will bear comparison with that of any previous

one.

Nearly every country in Europe has been or is being trigonometrically surveyed. In Asia vast progress has been made during the century in laying down with approximate accuracy the great features of that stupendous continent. India has been accurately surveyed, and that survey has been carried east and west into the extensive regions within the British sphere. Central Asia has been traversed by an army of explorers, mainly Russian and British, so that its vast plateaus and its gigantic mountain systems are now mapped in their main features.

So also with its great river systems, its interesting lakes, and its desolate deserts. Still there is room enough for pioneer exploring work in this ancient continent for many years to come. Even the central plateau and the great mountain systems which dominate it afford an ample field for further research, which must be undertaken before they are adequately mapped. The mountain

ranges on the east and northeast of Tibet, the magnificent river region which extends northward into the interior from the Indo-Chinese Peninsula, are little known. Much yet remains to be done in the region watered by the Oxus. The great central deserts, as Dr. Sven Hedin has shown, conceal beneath their sandy wastes the rich remains of ancient civilizations. Even the maps of western Asia contain much hypothetical geography, and the Siberian coast is still most inaccurately laid down. Southern and central Arabia is almost unknown, and the venturous explorer who succeeded in making his way in a bee-line from Aden to Muscat would perform a feat worthy of the highest recognition. Thus, notwithstanding all that has been accomplished during the century, the occupation of the explorer in Asia will not be gone for generations to come.

re

In quite recent years Central Asia has been the scene of some of the most remarkable expeditions on record, so markable that most of them have been considered worthy of recognition by the award of the much-coveted medal of the Royal Geographical Society. We cannot omit to mention among these, as holding a place of high honor, the two expeditions of the Hon. W. W. Rockhill, now United States minister in Greece, who approached to within a short distance of Lhasa, traversed hundreds of miles of unknown land in eastern Tibet, and made a profound study of Tibetan religion, customs, and history. Prince Henry of Orleans and M. Bonvalot about the same time crossed the country from north to south. Shortly after, a young British officer, Captain Bower, traversed the lofty Tibetan plateau from west to east. More recently, Mr. St. George Littledale and his brave wife entered Tibet from the north, approached to within a day's ride of the forbidden city, and but for the prostrate condition of Mrs. Littledale they would have forced their way into Lhasa. They turned west and came out by Ladak. Unfortunately, though often urged to do so, Mr. Littledale has never