the necessity of wearing Wellington boots under
the trousers, than which a greater nuisance does
not exist when soldiers are campaigning, or even
on guard in times of peace, and have to sleep
dressed. The Wellington boot at present worn
by our dragoons under their trousers—or
"overalls," as cavalry men call them—causes the feet
to swell if slept in, and if taken off, is excessively
troublesome to get on again, should the corps
be roused out suddenly in the night. A very
excellent dress for mounted soldiers, is the ordinary
hunting "Napoleon" boot, pulled over trousers
made of dark blue corduroy. But there are, as
a matter of course, many details of costume which
must be left to the members of the corps
themselves.

To be soldier-like, all uniforms must be
workman-like; that is to say, they must be
made, more with a view to their being useful
and appropriate in the field, than handsome, or
what young ladies call "lovely," in the ball-room.
The great fault of nearly all our English uniforms
is, that they are endowed with much more of the
latter than of the former quality; hence the
reason that on service English officers wear so
many strange and "fancy" costumes, to the
great astonishment of all who behold them.
In the Crimea, almost from the commencement
of the campaign, there was hardly a single
officer clothed in the regulation dress of the corps
or department to which he belonged, insomuch
that it was generally impossible to say what
regiment, or even what branch of the
service, any individual belonged to; whereas the
French officers, having a much simpler, easier,
cheaper, and more soldier-like uniform, were
always dressed as ordered for their rank and
corps. Even in our foreign garrison towns
some strange sights in this respect are to be
witnessed. Not many months ago the writer saw
near the main guard at Malta, an officer dressed in
scarlet tunic, and sword and sash, having on his
head a green wide-awake hat, with a blue veil.
On asking who he was, the wearer of this motley
costume turned out to be the officer on guard,
who preferred an easy to an uneasy head-
dress; little thinking what comments on the
discipline of the English army he was inducing
from three or four French officers stopping for
the day in Malta en route to China.

The organisation of volunteer cavalry,
although a simple matter, is one of moment. A
national mounted force of this kind should be
raised and drilled by squadrons, not by regiments.
Each squadron should consist of two troops, and
each troop of not more than eighty, nor less than
sixty, elective men and horses. Each squadron
should be commanded by an officer with the rank
of major, to whom the captain of each troop
should be responsible for the men under his
command. The more difference there is between the
dresses of different squadrons, the better. To each
squadron should be attached, as formerly in all
dragoon regiments serving in India, two galloper
guns, with an officer and a certain number of men
drilled to work them. In each troop there should
be a captain, two lieutenants, and a cornet; with
an adjutant, an assistant-surgeon, a veterinary
surgeon, and a quartermaster, for each squadron.
There is hardly a county—hardly a district
—in England, where some retired officers who
seen service with cavalry, either in India,
the Crimea, or the Cape, are not to be found, and
from such a class the adjutancy of volunteer
cavalry should be filled up. All the officers should
be selected by those who compose corps in which
they are to command, but none should be selected
who had not, in one or other branch of the
service, seen what campaigning really is, and
served somewhere or other in the field before an
enemy.

In the event of invasion such a body of men
would be found invaluable in aid of regular
troops. As guides, as scouts, as escorts, and to
hang upon the flank of the enemy at all tunes,
they would be of the greatest possible service.
Break off railway communication, and call out a
body of men to which every fox-hunter in
England would belong, and what enemy could make
head through our enclosed fields and lanes and
country roads? Train these same fox-hunters to
use their rifled carbines and their swords, as
Englishmen, when properly taught, can use such
weapons—to charge as their countrymen charged
at Moodkee, at Aliwall, at Balaklava, and, more
lately, in India—and man for man—nay, even at
the odds of three to two—no cavalry in the
world could withstand them. Rifled field guns
are terrible instruments, but would prove useless,
or nearly so, when horses and artillerymen were
harassed by men who knew the country well,
and who were ready behind every hedge. The
writer is of opinion that for every hundred volunteer
cavalry raised, and properly trained, the
same number of our regular dragoons might be
spared to fight our battles in other countries.

      VIDOCQ, FRENCH DETECTIVE.

IN TWO PORTIONS. PORTION THE FIRST.

VIDOCQ, who was gifted with sound reasoning
powers, quick intelligence, clear and ready
speech, and who talked better and more to
the purpose than three-fourths of the
advocates of high repute, was no writer, and never
knew the most elementary rules of grammar
and orthography. His well-known Memoirs,
therefore, were edited from his notes, not
by himself, but by a couple of literary
gentlemen. This dressed-up and unoriginal
autobiography has lately been analysed and
completed in an interesting volume, "Vidocq; Vie
et Aventures," by M. Barthélemy Maurice, who
has the double merit of industry in the collection
of authentic facts, and spirit in weaving
them into a narrative.

François Eugène Vidocq was born at Arras,
on the 23rd of July, 1775, in a house close to
that in which Robespierre first saw the light
sixteen years before him. His father, who was
a baker by trade, intended that his son should