abode the pleasant town of Boulogne-sur-Mer,
where he cultivated his moustaches, acquired
a smattering of French, and an insight into
the mystery of pigeon-shooting. For one or
other of these qualifications—we cannot exactly
say which—he was subsequently appointed
attaché to a foreign embassy, and at the
pre-sent moment, we believe, is considered one of
those promising young men whose diplomatic
skill will probably declare itself one of these
days, by some stroke of finesse, which shall set
all Europe by the ears.

With respect to Colonel Tulip's "crack"
regiment, it went, as the saying is, "to the
Devil." The exposure caused by the affair of
Ensign Spoonbill—the smash of Ensign
Brittles, which shortly followed—the duel
between Lieutenant Wadding and Captain
Cushion, the result of which was a ball
(neither "spot" nor " plain", but a bullet)
through the head of the last-named gentleman,
and a few other trifles of a similar
description, at length attracted the "serious
notice" of his Grace the Commander-in-
Chief. It was significantly hinted to Colonel
Tulip that it would be for the benefit of the
service in general, and that of the Hundredth
in particular, if he exchanged to half-pay,
as the regiment required re-modelling. A
smart Lieutenant-Colonel who had learnt
something, not only of drill, but of discipline,
under the hero of " Young Egypt," in which
country he had shared that general's laurels,
was sent down from the Horse Guards.
"Weeding" to a considerable extent took
place; the Majors and the Adjutant were
replaced by more efficient men, and, to sum
up all, the Duke's " Circular" came out,
laying down a principle of practical military
education, while on service, which, if acted up
to,—and there seems every reason to hope
it will now be,—bids fair to make good
officers of those who heretofore were merely
idlers. It will also diminish the opportunities
for gambling, drinking, and bill-discounting,
and substitute, for the written words on the
Queen's Commission, the real character of a
soldier and a gentleman.

HOW TO SPEND A SUMMER
HOLIDAY.

IF the walls of London—the bill-stickers'
chosen haunt—could suddenly find a voice to
tell their own history, we might have a few
curious illustrations of the manners and
customs—the fashions, fancies, and popular idols
—of the English during the last half century,
—from the days when a three feet blue bill
was thought large enough to tell where
Bonaparte's victories might be read about, to
the advent acres of flaring paper and print
which announce a Bal Masque or a new
Haymarket Comedy. One of the most startling
contrasts of such a confession would refer to
the announcements about means of locomotion.
It is not very long ago that "The Highflyer,"
"The Tally-ho," the Brighton "Age," and the
Shrewsbury '' Wonder" boasted, in all the
glory of red letters, their wonder-feat speed
of ten miles an hour,—"York in one day;"
"Manchester in twenty-four hours;" and so
on. The same wall now tells the passer-by a
different tale, for we have Excursion Trains to
all sorts of pleasant places at all sorts of low
fares. "Twelve Hours to Paris" is the
burden of one placard, whilst another shows
how " Cologne on the Rhine" may be reached
in twenty-four.

Nor is this marvellous change in speed—
this real economy of life—the only variation
from old modes; for the cost in money of a
journey has diminished with its cost of time.
The cash which a few years ago was required
to go to York, will now take the tourist to
Cologne. The Minster of the one city is now,
therefore, rivalled as a point for sight-seers by
the Dom-Kirche of the other. When the South-
Eastern Railway Company offers to take the
traveller, who will pay them about three pounds
at London Bridge one night, and place him by
the next evening on the banks of the Rhine,—
the excellent tendency is, that the summer
holiday folks will extend their notions of an
excursion beyond the Channel.

Steam, that makes the trip from London to
Cologne so rapid and so cheap, does not stop
there, but is ready now to bear the traveller by
railway to Brunswick, Hanover, Berlin, Dresden,
Vienna,—nay, with one short gap, he
may go all the way to Trieste, on the Adriatic,
by the iron road. Steam is ready also on the
Rhine to carry him at small charge up that
stream towards Switzerland. Indeed, afloat
by steamer and ashore by railway, the tourist
who leaves London Bridge on a Monday
night may well reach Basle by Thursday or
Friday, seeing many things on his way, including
the best scenery of the Rhine. The
beautiful portion of the banks of that river
forms but a small part of its entire length;
indeed, on reaching Cologne, the traveller
is disappointed to find so little that is
remarkable in what he beholds on the banks
of the famous stream. It is not till he ascends
many miles higher that he feels repaid for his
journey. The scenery lies between Coblenz
and Bingen, and in extent bears some such
proportion to the whole length of the river as
would the banks of the Thames from Chelsea
to Richmond to the entire course of our great
river, from its rise in Gloucestershire to its
junction with the sea. In addition to the part
just named, there are some few other points
where the Rhine is worth seeing,—such as the
fall at Schaffhausen,—but Switzerland may
claim this as one of its attractions. It is a fine
river from Basle, even down through the Dutch
rushes and flats to the sea; but, with all its
reputation, there is only a morsel of the Rhine
worth going to look at, and that lies, as we
have just said, between its junction with the
picturesque Moselle at Coblenz and the small
town of Bingen. Between those points it