tiers, &c. In the Britannia, it is a sleeping-
place for a part of the cadets; it contains a
capital room for their washing hands, &c.; and,
also, it is occupied by their chests. Whole
rows of these square solid structures are there,
with their little looking-glasses inside the lid,
their pewter basins, and so forth; for a mid's
chest is his all in all, the embodiment of his
worldly wealth, and the indispensable source of
his personal splendour, as important to him as
shell to snail or stomach to camel!

The Britannia, our reader sees, like a beehive,
has its own place and duty for every busy bee.
All in order, regularity, and punctuality. To
say that a beautiful cleanliness prevails
everywhere is a mere matter of course, but one
especially remarks the perfect ventilation, which is
so managed that there is fresh air
everywhere.

The education of our cadets is of a double
character on board the training ship, and the
two kinds succeed one another, thus varying
and so lightening the indispensable routine.
The practical part comprises seamanlike
exercises; the scientific part, navigation, drawing,
French, and such intellectual constituents of
education. Meanwhile, this double activity,
sweetened all through by the friendships and
frolic natural to the age and mode of existence
of the youngsters, all goes on under the
discipline proper to a man-of-war, which, however
genially and graciously administered, cannot be
too rarely made familiar to those who are to
comply with discipline through life. The
training-ship, in short, is school and ship in one, and
must give a colour to a youth's whole career.
Under the old system, entering, perhaps, without
any education worth having, the youngster
picked up his knowledge the best way he could,
and scrambled through life with no more
accomplishments than would have done for the skipper
of a Baltic lime-sloop. Different ideas prevail,
we can assure our readers, in the services
inspired by the teachings of the Prince de Joinville
and the Duke Constantine, and we must
meet them on the new ground laid out for us by
the progress of time and change.

We have mentioned the nature of the studies
on board the Britannia. We may add that
lectures bearing on professional subjects are
delivered occasionally, and that the ship is well
supplied with the books, charts, and other
collateral material of instruction.

One or two points connected with this
experiment deserve particular notice. Could not
the Admiralty contrive to lengthen the period
of study in the Training Ship (which, in some
cases, as we have said, only amounts to three
months), and thus secure a real good groundwork
for young officers of professional knowledge?
When we remember the amount of
training which goes to laying the foundations
of a scholar, a divine, a lawyer, in this country
ought there to be such a huge disparity
between it and the similar process in the case of a
naval officer? Again, by existing regulations
any period passed in the Training Ship—say
twelve months, for instance—only counts for
three months in an officer's "time;" that is,
in the five years which he must serve before
passing for lieutenant. Is it politic to place
time passed in so important a course of study in
a position of such inferiority?

Some years must elapse before the full effects
of the Training Ship appear in the general
character of the profession. Already, however,
some of its alumni have been declared by
experienced officers serving afloat to " rank
with their best midshipmen." It will amuse
the public, in the mean time, to hear that the
entire experiment has been steadily pooh-
poohed, from the beginning, by certain old
stagers—Benbow men the "old school, sir"—
"no nonsense, sir," class of worthies. " They
don't require to be educated, sir," says Admiral
Rubadub; " let them rough it—send 'ern to
sea, sir!" and he closes with the accustomed
oath of his ancestors. The one answer to the
old gentleman is, that we have no choice in the
matter; that the course of events, which no
Admiralty can control, has made a high education
for our naval officers necessary; and that
necessity has no law.

In order to prevent what has been acquired in
the Britannia from being lost to the cadet afterwards,
the Admiralty has not only established
quarterly examinations on board that ship, but
has increased the number and strictness of the
youngsters' subsequent examinations afloat.
Formerly, having " passed" into the service in the
manner sketched above, by writing a sentence,
you were not disturbed for two years, when you
went through an examination (a little Euclid,
algebra, &c.) not more severe than the new
"matriculation" one. Four years more rolled
by, and you " passed" for lieutenant, in a milder
manner, as regarded science at all events, than
is now known.

We have changed all that. After passing
out of the " training ship" and making up
eighteen months' time, our ingenuous youth
passes for midshipman, his first transition out
of the condition of cadet. Here, he must
show that he has kept up his knowledge, anyhow.
He must be able to do "a day's work"
(in navigation) by tables, and to " find the latitude;"
to use the sextant and azimuth compass;
he must produce his log-book; and prove his
acquaintance with the handling of boats. In
another eighteen months, another examination
waits him; and this time he is expected to stand
some testing in charts, the steam-engine, and
French. Finally, after five years' complete
"time," and supposing him to be nineteen (a
regulation naturally grumbled at by those
who enter before fourteen), he comes to the
great trial of all. He appears, first, before
the time-honoured tribunal (familiar to all
readers of naval novels) of three captains,
who try him in seamanship. Next, he
goes on board the Excellent gunnery-ship at
Portsmouth, to pass in gunnery. And lastly,
he takes up his quarters at the Naval College,
Portsmouth (an institution which has done much