lasting bread was made out of turnips,
kneaded up with an equal weight of flour?
Turnip-bread! The words seem rather
unpractical; yet we ourselves know of bread
that was produced last year in Paris— white,
firm, sweet, and wholesome— in which the
inventor solemnly declared there was not a single
grain of flour. He wished the government
to buy his secret, or he had already taken out
a patent, we forget which; but he produced
the bread, and our friends eat it. It was
sold at four sous the four-pound loaf.
Wheaten bread was then very dear, much to
the dissatisfaction of the ouvriers round the
barrières, more than one of whom declared
that the emperor was a polisson and a gredin,
and predicted a revolution in consequence.
Not that the emperor had much to do with
it, excepting in the perpetual State and
police interference with the markets, which
yet were always kept as low as possible for
the consumer, to the damage of the producer
very often. However, more than one
émeute of which the world never knew was
the result of this dearness of bread. Yet
people would have to be coaxed and hood-
winked into buying nutritious bread, not
made of wheaten flour, at a halfpenny a
pound. And doubtless many of the ignorant
would believe that government— that vague
term— had some sinister design on hand, and
that they were to be poisoned off easy, if
this cheap food had been pressed on them.
This is the universal consequence of ignorance,
fear and distrust of every new advantage.

On the whole, then, the sum of this paper
is contained in the following rules. Make
use of every material possible for food—
remembering that there are chemical affinities
and properties by which nutriment may
be extracted from almost every organic
substance, the greatest art being in proper cooking.
Make soup of every kind of flesh, fish,
farina, and leguminosæ. Everything adds to
its strength and flavour. Bones, fish, stale
bread, vegetables, nettle-tops, turnip-tops,
and water-cresses growing for the gathering,
dandelion bleached, and other wild herbs and
weeds— all will turn to account in a skilful
housewife's hands, more especially in soup.
And remember that even pure vegetable
soup, accompanied with bread fried in fat, is the
best article of food to be had after solid flesh or
meat soup; and that you can make this dish
nourishing and savoury out of the material
you could not otherwise eat. Cook your
food in close vessels; and, when possible, in
close stoves. Cook slowly and thoroughly,
and abjure, as wasteful and baneful, those
fierce caverns of flames, which simply heat
the chimney— which does not do much good,
excepting sometimes to the fire-engines;
and which spends your substance in creating
smoke; a disagreeable substance to create, to
say the least of it, and a bad investment
for your money. Make stews slowly. Make
soup with cold water, increasing the heat
gradually. Cook boiled meat by plunging it
into boiling water, then let the heat decrease,
and simmer it till ready.

MILITARY FANS.

COLONEL TEVIS, late a staff-officer in the
Turkish service, and a pupil of the military
college of the United States, has endeavoured
to remove the military ignorance of the non-
professional world. Speaking from long
and useful experience, at Kars and elsewhere,
the colonel has contrived to make
the movements of an army intelligible to
the non-military reader. He has used the
French language for the conveyance of his
knowledge; probably because his admiration
is wholly concentrated upon the military system
of our allies. Can Sandhurst be compared
with St. Cyr ? Can the knowledge of
Ensign Fiddles be mentioned beside that of
Sou-lieutenant Bontemps? Are there any
cavalry colonels in the French army who
cannot take their regiment out of the barrack-
yard ? Questions of this nature probably
struck Colonel Tevis as he sat down to tell the
world how armies are protected from sudden
assaults on the march; how the baggage is
guarded; how way-worn warriors are left to
rest peacefully with their martial cloaks
around them.

It is the business of an army in the field
to keep the enemy as ignorant as possible of
its position, its strength, and its destination;
therefore it surrounds itself with a web as
dangerous to hostile adventurers as the
spider's web is to the fly. On all sides,
scouts scour the country in quest of the foe;
and, when they discover him, pass the word
back till it reaches head-quarters. Cavalry
gallop round the woods; fantassins climb the
ridges in pairs, and look carefully about long
before the first column of the main army
approaches. Then, should the enemy suddenly
appear to these scouts in force, they fall
slowly back, warning the advanced guard.
The army is yet some way behind, and will
have ample time to prepare for a meeting
while the advanced guard holds the enemy
in check. The advanced guard is generally
composed of troops of all arms, and varies in
strength from one-third to one-fifth of the
main army, according to the ground over
which its advanced posts extend along the
front and flanks; according, also, to the
resistance it is needful to offer to the enemy.
In a country the surface of which demands
numerous advanced posts and in which the
advanced guard is compelled to put out half its
strength in the posts, the strength of this body
is generally increased; but, in a small army of
two or three thousand men, no more than one-
fifth of its entire strength can be detached as
an advanced guard. The great business of this
advanced force, besides protecting the army
from sudden attack, is to prevent the enemy
from reconnoitering. This latter service may