he had. As the army is drawn up, I should
say full eighty strong, the stage officers skip
out from the ranks with the strangest glissade
motion, as though commencing a galop.
Far, very far are such thoughts from the
souls of those morne-faced men; they are
thinking of the great Panjandorum, and how
many flaws he may find in their complement.
But he comes not; and meantime, the crowd
gathers, and admires, and two gentlemen in
evening dress indulging in tobacco of inferior
quality, are propelled against me with an
inconvenient degree of force. Which leads
to mutual excuses.

Says one of the gentlemen in evening
garb, displaying his mastery over the English
tongue, " This is ver fine sight!"

I politely signify assent. The other gentleman
in evening garb intimates by profound
shaking of his head that he quite concurs
in that view.

"We are great fighting people," said the
first gentleman, looking at me mistrustfully,
to see how I would take the assertion; "a
great fighting people— au fond—at the bottom
of all."

"A nation of warriors," I suggest, wishing
to help him.

"Quite yes, quite yes! " second gentleman
puts in. "Always war—always fight."

First gentleman: " Trouble his neighbours.
Like not Dutchmen near them." Both
chuckle pleasantly here at the notion of
being inconvenient neighbours.

Someway, I have a dim conception that all
this will lead to that old hackneyed theme of
which I am weary.

Second gentleman, pointing to the clouds
with the inferior cigar: " Look to Van
Tromp! To Van Speyk. Look at him!
Look to: Chasse! " (I knew Chasse was
coming), " and his great siege. Whole world
sees and admires. One vord, and he lay
town in fire. But he will not—will spare de
lives, and surrender itself."

"It was noble and merciful conduct on the
part of the late General Chasse," I suggest.

"Quite yes," the two gentlemen in evening
garb reply together; which ends the discussion
on the military resources of the country.

Hush! atten-shon— and sens-ation; the
stage militaires come glissading from the
ranks, take up position vis-a-vis to the army,
and utter gutturals of command. The great
Panjandoram is coming! and the band
strikes up feebly. He comes— the great
Panjandoram. He is quite of the Pelissier build;
rotund, and girthed, and strapped down;
with a grey poll, and dyed moustaches.
He is received with prodigious respect, and
abundant gutturals. His padded chest glistens
with stars, and crosses, and bits of ribbon. In
what campaign, O great Panjandoram ? in
what tented field? Out under Chasse,
perhaps.

Now for sham battles and military
manoeuvring. The cavalry arm is set in motion,
and the plough-horses clatter round and
round on the paving stones of the little
Platz. But at a safe and sober walk. Now
—Full speed gutturally Charge! Terrible
overwhelming trot; scattering the timorous
crowd. Spare the women and children,
great warriors! Be brave, but merciful.
Now for the army. Wonderful manoeuvring!
deploying and so forth, within the narrow
space. ' Hard work for the little stage officers
to get round corners, entailing no small
measure of skips and dancing movements.
Note the cavalry arm. They take delight
in backing their horses on unoffending
bystanders; which weakness, it may be
remarked, is common to all equestrian
Jacks-in-Office. Horse policemen, near home, and
Prussian mounted gendarmerie, are especially
given to this little tyranny.

The great Panjan is led round to inspect
persons and accoutrements. I remark he
delights in coming privily behind unhappy
privates, arranging their loose garments for
them, and setting their caps awry over
their eyes, to look the more military. He
is treated with a certain awful respect by
his inferiors, and affects to be a terrible
disciplinarian. Finally, he has done with them:
and is then, with much heaving, lifted on
his beast; a terrible brute, which may
have been lent for the occasion by Messrs.
Barclay and Co. The whole army then
contrives to defile before him; that left
wheel movement being still an awful
stumbling-block for both arms; the cavalry
especially. It comes round in jagged lines,
in a sort of ruck or rout, or, indeed, any
way that it can be managed. But the
army! or that portion of it which may be
irreverently styled Beetle-Crushers, or
Pousses-Cailloux, as the French have it— it
is a terrible thing to see how it goes about
compassing the evolution. Flesh and pipeclay
at home could never stand it: especially
when thinking of the smooth, unbroken wall
of British Grenadiers, coming round solidly,
to the music of their heavy tramp. The
army here make a handsome half-circle, their
officers, skipping frantically, doing
Schottische and other measures. This is done
many times over; the great Panjandoram, on
his Flemish dray, taking it lightly enough. I
suppose he knows things cannot be much
mended, so he looks on placidly: and, at the
end of all, jogs away with an up and down
movement. He must ride full seventeen
stone, that worthy captain, and someway—
looking to the fashion in which he is girthed
and buttoned close— I fancy that if that
waist-belt of his were to part suddenly, it
would have a similar effect to that of taking
a hoop off a cask; and he would all fall down
in pieces.

But, as has been said many times, Truth is
a jewel; and so it must not be concealed here,
that these are only the poorer specimens of
the fighting men of the country; that there