laudanum to the late Miss Carrington. His
evidence changes all. Hope, dearest, hope for
everything good, as I firmly believe you may.
                                             "Your GILBERT."

WHY WE CAN'T GET RECRUITS.

IN a former number of this journal I published
my experiences as an old non-commissioned officer,
respecting military punishments.* The
paper I wrote has been much talked of in
barrack-room, officers' quarters, and sergeants' mess,
throughout the service. I am, therefore, tempted
to take up my pen again, and attempt to explain
why it is that so few men will now enlist into
the army, and why such a small proportion
will renew their engagements after their first
ten years of soldiering are over.
* See page 296 of the present volume.

A non-commissioned officer knows, as I
observed in my first paper, a great many opinions
of the barrack-room, respecting which the officers
are utterly ignorant. Moreover, commissioned
officers are, if young men, careless, as a general
rule, of what either the men or the public think
of the service. If, on the other hand, they are
of some standing in their corps, they believe
and say that the army will last their time, and
so they let things take their course. Not
only is anything like an opposition to the status
quo of the service very much disliked among
officers of all ranks, but those who, by their
standing, are entitled to give an opinion on
military matters, may be divided into the fortunate
and the unfortunate. The former are
almost invariably men of wealth, and, as the
world has gone well with them, they believe
that no one has a right to grumble at the existing
rules of our military system. The
unfortunates are nearly always poor, officers who have
been by their poverty kept from rising, and
who have a sort of pride in not acknowledging
what, amongst their wealthier companions, is
looked upon almost as their shame. As regards
the reasons why more men do not enlist or re-
enlist in the service, who will say that the question
is of no importance? In the year 1867
many thousands of men will have completed
their ten years' service, and, unless
something be done to change or alter the
system, we shall then see many of our best
regiments—nearly all those serving in India
—left as the old Spanish army was said to
be, with plenty of officers, but no soldiers.
Did I not read the other day, in one of the
Indian papers, that there is a battalion of the
rifle brigade, stationed somewhere on the
extreme north-west frontier of India, of which one-
third of the men are about to take their
discharge this year, while of the two-thirds left
with the regiment, more than one-half are raw
recruits? The men who go home must have
their passage paid. They will take their fling
in England, and most of them will re-enlist—the
greater number of them going back to India,
and thus having their passage paid twice over,
on a holiday trip. Is such a state of things
right? Would not the thousands of pounds
thus expended do a great deal towards making
the soldier more comfortable, and increasing
his chances of promotion? Doubtless.

Let us take any educated man of the
English working classes—say the compositor who
has "set up" these lines—does any one
suppose that he would work at his present
calling if he did not hope to better himself?
It is the same with soldiers. There are many
who might have, and who ought to have,
commissions, were it only as an example and
encouragement to others. And of those that
might be promoted, there are not a few who
would rather not accept the boon. Military
members of parliament are fond of quoting this
as a proof that soldiers are quite happy in the
non-commissioned ranks, and that they don't wish
to rise higher. But the exact contrary is the
fact. Many of us decline commissions—or,
rather, don't press our claims when we believe
that we might get promotion, which amounts to
much the same thing—simply because we know
that the advancement can lead to nothing
further, and that, although pretty comfortable as
sergeants or sergeant-majors, we should be little
better than paupers if we got commissions.
Take my own case. My father was a clergyman
of the Irish Established Church. He
had some private means besides his living,
and gave me a very good education. I
was his only son, and he had long promised
to purchase a commission for me. But when I
was eighteen he got involved by the failure of a
country bank, and died of the worry, disgrace,
and annoyance, of having his name published in
the list of bankrupts. My mother had died
years before, when I was very young; and my
only sister was married to a chaplain out in
India. When my father's affairs were wound
up, I had the sum of one hundred and
five pounds to begin the world upon. What
could I do? I was recommended to go out as
a sheep-farmer to Australia; but my love for
soldiering was strong upon me—it was a
passion. In a neighbouring town there was
quartered a squadron of a very smart light
dragoon regiment. The major commanding the
party had often dined at my father's house. I
went to the barracks, and told him that I
intended to enlist. He was a kind-hearted man as
ever lived, and tried hard to dissuade me, telling
me that I should never be happy in a barrack-
room. I asked him if he would use his influence to
get me a commission? He replied that he would
gladly do so; but that, unless I was able to
purchase it, it was useless to dream of getting
into the service. Moreover, that if I could get
my late father's friends to subscribe the money
for an ensigncy or a cornetcy, I should need at
least two hundred pounds a year to live on in an
infantry, and double that to pay my way in a
cavalry, regiment; unless I made up my mind to
serve in regiments quartered in India, and in no
other station—exchanging from the corps I