the picture is a pure fiction, the baseless
fabric of a national dream; the favourite
air of our army is nothing more than a bitter
sarcasm; the fire with which they are wont
to play, Oh, the Roast Beef of old England,
is due to hungry longing rather than to
gratified satiety; for they may well be supposed
to yearn for this luxury, the more
earnestly that they are never indulged in the
flavour of it. Roast beef is to be had anywhere
except among the Household Brigade.
It may be had on the boulevards, at Berlin, or
in Kamtschatka, but not at the Wellington
Barracks or at Fort Pitt—not even by day.
It might be had by any one else, but not by
our soldiers. These unfortunate victims of
routine have been condemned to a penal diet
of everlasting boiled meat. That very bouilli
which excited our national contempt, has been
made the means of our humiliation, and the
instrument of dietetic torture to our army.
The witches at the Horse Guards have
thrown a spell into this seething cauldron,
which has, indeed, cast an evil spell over its
victims. It is a marvellous revelation of the
depths of unfathomable stupidity and saddening
ignorance which lie hidden in official
obscurity. The merest tyro in dietetics
knows the necessity of variation in daily
rations, and is aware of the sickening influence
of monotony.

Even if boiling were the best manner of
cooking meat, it is indefensible to make it
the sole method of dressing it; but, for
ordinary purposes, it is the worst. The
salts and juices of the meat are dissolved out
in the water, the fibre is rendered more or
less sodden and tasteless, while it loses no
small portion of its value by the abstraction
of its mineral elements. In roasting, on the
contrary, not only are these salts retained,
but new savoury principles are developed,
which, in exciting the appetite, add to the
potency of the gastric juice secreted, and aid
in the better digestion of the food.* Yet our
soldiers have been literally nauseated by the
incessant repetition of this tasteless bouilli,
which sickened them when in health, and
delayed their convalescence after disease.

*  See the article on Common Cookery in
Household Words, No. 305,page 42.

Glad we are,—and every man of patriotism
and intelligence must share this feeling—
that the practical skill of practical cooks
has been called in, to put an end to this
state of things. But we would have science
as well as art enlisted in this cause: the
skill of the artist lies in the capacity which
he shows for dealing with his material;
his knowledge of flavours and textures;
his ingenuity in combination; his mastery
over the influences of heat, water, and
air. But the question of the nutritive
value of the various articles which should be
imported into the military dietary; the
due admixture of nitrogenous with carbonaceous
varieties of food, should be entrusted
to the hands of those experienced chemists
who alone are qualified to decide upon this
point. Christison, Lyon Playfair, Lankester,
and Forbes Watson have investigated this
subject with great care and skill; and all
dietary lists intended for regulating the food
of the soldiery should from time to time be
revised by them. A practical proof of the
necessity for such supervision was seen in the
course of the late inquiry before the Army
Sanatory Commissioners. Sir James Tulloch
—intimately acquainted with the habits and
wants of the British soldier—had observed
the nutritive deficiencies of the existing scale
of diet, and drew up a new scale, which he
submitted to the approval of the Commissioners.
Dr. Christison was requested to
report upon the dietetic value of this table,
and his chemical knowledge enabled him to
point out grave deficiencies in the amended
proposition, and to suggest alterations which
have been adopted. In illustration of this
kind of error, it should not be forgotten that
the dietary of British convicts was but lately
found to be superior to that of British sailors
and soldiers; and that even the sailors were
better fed when idling in port than when
subject to the wear and tear of full employment
in their laborious vocation.

WALKER.

IT is well known that the meaning of many
words has altered considerably since they
were first introduced into the English
language; indeed, this fact has been fully and
cleverly illustrated in the arguments which
have been recently heard in favour of a new
translation of the Bible; but, perhaps, it is
not so well known that the pronunciation has
been susceptible of equal changes.

We can obtain an excellent idea of the
unsettled state of pronunciation at the
commencement of the present century, by
dipping into one of the first editions of Walker,
whom we find laying down the law in a very
quaint and querulous manner. Remembering
the very partial spread of education in Walker's
time, we must not be surprised to find no
more than few really correct speakers; still
we should hardly have expected that he
would have met with so many difficulties as
he complains of.

He tells us that there are "coxcombs in
pronunciation who would carry distinctions
farther than they ought to go." That the
rule for the adaptation of a word was,
that it should be pronounced in direct
opposition to the rules of our language. The
stage was constantly introducing innovations
not at all agreeable to Walker, and the
House of Commons was guilty of similar
barbarities. Poets, he allows, should have a
certain licence; but they who, when tortured
for a word, often torture a word to ease
themselves, are generally guilty of one part