tomorrow morning; but wherever they go
eventually, you may be sure that they will go now
to the mess.

Our Mess is not of a very pretentious
character. It is not our fault, but the fault
of those familiar conditions known as
"circumstances over which we have no control."
We are excellently provided, as far as our
barracks are concerned, but we have no
mess-house, and it seems to be nobody's business to
build us one. The county won't do it, and
the officers have never been sufficiently
enthusiastic in their own behalf to undertake the
responsibility. We are obliged to find our
welcome at an inn, and, as there is only one inn
adequate to our purpose in the neighbourhood,
we have no choice of Inns. However, we might
be worse off than at the Outram Arms, where we
are monarchs of all we survey, and have a flag
flying in our honour from the first-floor window.
The mess-room is sufficiently large for our
purpose, except on guest nights, when it is a little
crowded; the band plays outside, under
convenient cover. With our colours—we have an
old and a new set—displayed at either end,
the apartment looks every inch our property.
As we have our own plate, and glass, and
every requisite for the table, we shall have
nothing to complain of in these respects. We
have also our own wine, and as we guarantee
the landlord a great many more dinners than
are consumed, he is able to furnish them on a
pleasant scale.

On parade next morning the men are equipped
in the undress clothing given out yesterday,
and, being kempt, shorn, and undeniably washed,
bear very little trace of their identity in private
life. The change is immensely for the better.
The men are transformed into soldiers, not
quite equal in appearance to the Grenadier, the
Coldstream, or the Scots Fusilier Guards, but
bear comparison with many regiments of the
line, and wear that business-like obedient look
which distinguishes all regular troops from
volunteers.

The boots and accoutrements are now given
out, and subsequently the tunics and shakos.
There is the same confusion of boots as there
was of jackets and trousers; and as the
boots become the property of the wearers, the
wearers are especially solicitous to have them
as they ought to be. By dint of changing, and
changing, and changing again, remonstrating
with sergeants, and appealing to officers
against arbitrary decisions, every man is at
last suited: a few men, perhaps, with very
exceptional extremities, remaining to be
provided from the store. The tunics are a trial,
but even these are at last assigned, and only
in a few instances is there a flagrant
exhibition of the right man in the wrong coat.
The distribution of the accoutrements is a very
simple matter. The uniform, to say nothing
of the hair-cutting and the shaving, has
worked wonders. There is a general sense of
duty and discipline observable throughout the
ranks, and orderly ways seem to sit upon them
quite naturally. Many are old linesmen, while
many more are in their second or third terms of
service in the militia.

On the third day the battalion is paraded
with arms, and the work of the training begins
in earnest. Such of the recruits as are
sufficiently advanced, are taken into the ranks, the
remainder being drilled by themselves. When
the regiment marches out of the barrack-yard
it is with the air of being thoroughly
accustomed to duty, and the movements which
follow in the field bear no trace of inexperience.
The result is surprising to those who
have been accustomed to consider military
training as a special thing which can be
combined with no other pursuit; for the
volunteers, coming as they do from so different a
class of men, are not a case in point. I would
not venture to say either that all militia
regiments are equally efficient, but I know that
the average is far better than is generally
supposed; and there is very good reason why a
militiaman should make quicker progress than
a volunteer, and ultimately become a more
steady soldier. He is trained under strict
discipline, and while "out", is kept at constant
work; there is no shirking; and not only does
he know that his pay depends upon his doing
his duty, but that punishment will surely visit
its neglect.

After the first day out there is no cessation
of parades. The effect is soon apparent among
the men, who become steady and soldierlike to
an extent that no one could possibly expect who
saw them for the first time at the muster. I
I don't mean to say that they invariably read
improving books in their leisure hours, or that
they ask one another to tea, or that they make
any professions of being so virtuous as to shame
other people from their cakes and ale. But I
do mean to say that they are wonderfully orderly
on the whole; that a very small proportion of
them are brought up to the orderly room, or
incur any severe punishment; and that we very
seldom hear of complaints in the neighbourhood.

The training of the officers is more difficult
than the training of the men, and some
naturally adapt themselves to their duties more
readily and more successfully than others.
But the mania for efficiency has of late become
so great that we all have to do our best.
Some among even the officers of companies
have served in the line, while others have the
opportunity of keeping up their drill in volunteer
regiments. Otherwise the short period of
annual service in "the constitutional force of
the country" is very far from being sufficient
to bring the militia up to the mark of the
regulars. It is only when a militia regiment
is embodied for a year or two at a time that
it has a fair chance. There have been no militia
regiments embodied for a longer period than
the regular four weeks, since the days of the
Crimean war, and the Indian mutiny; but
the experience then gained was of a very
favourable character, and greatly increased the
estimation of the force by authority.