Our representative colonel exactly hits the
point in his last remark. The educated soldier
is a great deal too clever a fellow for the kind
of discipline which used to be enforced, but
which it has been found safe to modify in
deference to the improved material. If the
experiment has succeeded so far, why not carry it a
great deal further? Our volunteers, who may
be supposed to be all persons of respectable
education, do not find drill and its attendant
duties incompatible with intelligence and
knowledge; and although they are, of course, not so
hard worked as the professional soldier, still it
must be remembered that the latter has nothing
else but soldiering to do. The fact is, that education
assists discipline instead of destroying it,
provided that the discipline be enforced with proper
judgment. And here we have the secret of the
objection entertained by the old school. Ignorant
ruffianism is easier to govern than intelligent
respectability. It is less difficult to deal with
a pack of hounds through the medium of an
active whipper-in, than to keep a body of men
in order, mainly by moral force men with
brains and tongues, to say nothing of hearts,
and who have perceptions and feelings in
common with those who control them. The highest
military authority has officially informed a certain
officer who held a rather conspicuous position
for many days at Aldershot, a short time since,
that temper, judgment, and discretion ("or
words to that effect") are the first qualities
necessary for command. The dictum applies
forcibly to the relation between officers and
officers and the relation between officers and
men. As for the idea that a fighting-man must
be a thorough blackguard, it is one disproved
by constant experience.

It is scarcely necessary to give special reasons
for urging the intellectual and moral improvement
of any class of men. But as it has been held that
the soldier must not be improved, upon practical
grounds, we may venture to give a reason why
he should be improved, upon practical grounds
also. The question of promotion from the ranks
has always been a difficult one, and, while it
remains as it is, it can scarcely be said to be
settled. The old companions of a man so
promoted he must renounce altogether; and,
with his new companions, he can scarcely be
considered at home. By the mess he may
be reckoned a capital fellow, and he may be
highly popular; but he is somehow not "one of
them" in general society, and the difficulty is
the more marked if he have a wife. For it is
not likely that any long course of meritorious
conduct which that probably estimable woman
may have pursued, is known to anybody but her
husband. Even, were her merits recognised,
the crown has no power to give a commission
to a lady which will compel her to be
accepted by her own sex. The consequence
is, that, unless in a very exceptional case,
she will meet with nothing more than bare
toleration, and, feeling herself considerably more
out of place than her husband, will shun society,
contenting herself by putting in an appearance
at an occasional great gathering, in order to
show her right to be there.

The march of a regiment from its old quarters
is a gay gallant spectacle. "The Girl I left
behind me," played by the band, has an exhilarating
sound, and suggests a romantic young person,
such as you see in pictures, taking an
affectionate leave of a splendid-looking fellow in full
uniform and curled moustache; the scene, a
pleasant bit of country close to a stile with a
church spire just visible through the trees.
The young lady vows to be true to him for an
indefinite time generally understood to be
"seven long years"—and he, on his part, is
never to forget her—nev-er! The love passages of
the ranks, however, have not been uniformly of a
cheering character to contemplate, and those of
its members who have entered into the bonds of
wedlock are worse off than their less
scrupulous comrades: a state of things not quite as it
should be. They have married with the
consent of their commanding officers, and their
wives are borne on what is called "the strength
of the regiment." These comparatively
fortunate partners accompany them, and are
provided for equally with themselves. But only
a small number are allowed to each
company; and the men who have married without
waiting for a vacancy—as large numbers do in
every regiment while in quarters—are ruthlessly
torn away from their families, who are frequently
left without the smallest provision. During the
absence of the regiment their case is hard enough,
for they have no recognition from authority, and,
without recognition, they can have no rations.
A certain proportion of soldiers' wives may
manage to obtain an honest living; but the
majority—and it is of no use blinking the fact—obtain
a living which is not honest, and which cannot
be considered reputable by any stretch of charity.
It may be said that the men should not marry
without their colonel's consent when they know
the chances to which they and their wives will be
exposed. But the argument is worth nothing.
It is as useless to preach prudence of this kind
to soldiers, as to any other class. Those who err
in this respect, be it remembered, are not likely
to be the worst men in a regiment.

A great deal is being done for the soldier
in these days. He is well fed; he is well
clothed; and, if he be not too well paid, he is none
the worse off for it; for the possession of money
means the temptation to spend it in liquor,
the great enemy of himself and the service. He
has a great deal of liberty for the purpose of
exercise; he has clubs, and in some stations he has
workshops. He has every opportunity for
educating himself and cultivating his mind. But
all these advantages will never make him what
he should be, so long as his domestic relations
remain what they are. Even when he has married
with proper regard to the regulations of the
service, when his wife is lodged and otherwise
provided for by the state, his is a very curious kind
of home life. Only the other day during a
celebrated trial it was urged that the wife even of
a non-commissioued officer could not have been.