I am sorry to say that Jones did not blush during Ann's speech, and worse, that he received all this thankfulness with a mild deprecating smile, as if the wretch had got the volume for her, and had written her initials inside. He was now so occupied with the idea of Ann Wood, that I really believe he almost forgot that these attentions were originally paid to Arabella Willsden.

Why need I detail the history of the other presents ? It is enough to say that, one by one, they all found their way to Ann Wood; who, when the series was exhausted, became Ann Jones. John and Ann Jones lived a happy, wedded pair, but, to this day, she knows nothing of the real history of the presents.

ARTHUR WALLBRIDGE.

THE SNOWDROP IN THE POOR MAN'S WINDOW.

Ir was a darksome alley

Where light but seldom shone,
Save when at noon a sun-ray touch'd
The little sill of stone

Beneath the poor man's window,
Whose weary life was bound,
To waste, at one dull ceaseless task,
The passing seasons round.

Spring's dewy breath of perfume,

And Summer's wealth of flowers,
Or the changing hue of Autumn's leaves,
Ne'er blest his lonely hours.

He knew, too well, when Winter
Came howling forth again-
He knew it by his fireless grate,
The snow, and plashing rain!
Pierced by the frost-wind's biting

His cheerless task he plied;
Want chain'd him ever to the loom
By the little window's side.
But when the days grew longer,
He stole one happy hour,
To tend, within a broken vase,
A pale and slender flower.

(How tenderly he moved it

To catch the passing ray,

And smiled to see its folded leaves
Grow greener every day!)
His faded eyes were lifted oft,

To watch the Snowdrop bloom-
To him it seem'd a star of light
Within that darksome room!
And as he gently moved it

Near to the sun-touch'd paneOh! who can tell what memories Were busy in his brain? Perchance his home in childhood In a sylvan valley lay,

And he heard the voice of the running streams, And the green leaves rustling play!

Perchance a long departed

But cherished dream of yore

Rose up through the mist of want and toil,

To bless his heart once more.

A voice of music whisper'd

Sweet words into his ear;

And he lived again that moonlight hour,
Gone by for many a year!

Or but the love of nature

Within his bosom stirr'd

The same sweet call that 's answer'd by
The blossom and the bird!

The free, unfetter'd worship,

Paid by the yearning soul,

When it seems to feel its wings expand
To reach a brighter goal!—

An aspiration, showing

Earth binds us not her slave, But we claim a brighter being, A life beyond the grave!

250

HOW SOLDIERS ARE MADE IN PRUSSIA.

WHATEVER strictures may be passed on the policy and tendencies of the Prussian Kings, there can be but one opinion with regard to the principles which have always led them in the general organisation of their armies. Prussia is a decidedly military state the Prussians are a military nation throughout. That country occupies a territory of no more than 5000 square miles, with a population of less than fourteen millions. By extent and by the number of its inhabitants it ranks among the second-class states of Europe; but by means of its military system it has acquired, and seemingly still possesses, a first-rate influence in European politics. This has always been the case; and though the course of events sometimes changed the minor features of the system, the fundamental principle has remained unaltered. That principle is the principle of intimidation: it is to acquire influence by means of an imposing attitude, to command respect on the strength of a numerical superiority. The Prussian State has always relied on a large and well-drilled army. It may be said that the great problem, "how to keep the greatest number of men for the smallest given sum of money?" has been satisfactorily solved by the Kings of that country. The Prussian Kings cannot boast of any hereditary talent for generalship running in their family. Two of them only, the Great Elector, and Frederic I., showed themselves competent to the chances of war and the leadership of armies; but a strong talent for Sergeantship is unquestionably developed in the bumps of all the heads of the family of Hohenzollern. The Prussian Kings were always great drill-masters; they could at all times defy the whole world on parade; they are capital -hands at the organisation and minor discipline of a regiment. They always delighted in the leadership of a company of the Grenadier Guards. The Princes of that house are soldiers from their very cradle. The moment a male infant is born, he is enrolled on the lists of some regiment; when he can scarcely walk, he is drilled for the parade. A Prussian Prince is a lieutenant at four, and a colonel at fourteen

years of age; and what is more, his knowledge of the routine of barrack service at those respective ages is almost equal to that of most lieutenants and colonels in the Prussian army. He knows all the rules and regulations of the service, as far as they regard the dress and appearance of the soldiers; he has been taught to march in the ranks, and to keep his distance to a hair; his eye has been sharpened to the finding out of a speck of dust on a grenadier's musket, or a fusilier's cartridge-box; he knows all the signals on the bugle, and talks as a connoisseur of the merits of a grand review. Some of the Prussian Princes are great amateurs in military tailoring. The late King of Prussia, Frederic William III., belonged to that class. He had a curious collection of dummies, as large as life, dressed in the different uniforms of the officers, sergeants, and privates of all his regiments. It was his great pleasure, and seemed almost to be the object of his life, to walk about the rooms containing this collection, and to improve on the costumes. He shortened a cuff, or lengthened a collar, or tried what an additional inch in breadth would do for the strap of a knapsack. Any change on which he determined was immediately introduced among all the corresponding regiments in the army. Unluckily he consulted only his taste in these alterations, and never gave a thought to the comfort or convenience of the soldier who was to wear the uniform. It looked well, at least to him: that was enough. The coats, czakos, and straps of his invention were so many instruments of torture. The fatigues of a few years' parade service were enough to ruin the strongest constitutions, Brain fever, loss of hair, inflammation of the eyes, and consumption decimated the Prussian army in the very midst of peace, and did more execution among them, than a batch of battles could have done. The present King of Prussia seems to favour the dummy-school less than a certain martial appearance, breadth of shoulder and profusion of beard, which give his soldiers the appearance of having come back from the middle ages. It may be said, to his praise, that he invented his clothes first, and next tried them on, to see how they would wear. is more than can generally be said of the inventors of military hats and coats.

This

We have said before that the Prussians are essentially a military nation, and it may be right to add, that their kings have made them so. They came to the throne, and they maintained their possession of it, by military force. They were, for a long

time, the kings of their army: their dominion ended with their outposts. They were soldiers and always wore the uniform. It was on their army they had to rely: their other subjects could only come into consideration so far as they provided the food and pay of the soldiers. The Prussian kings have proclaimed the principle, and they have acted up to it: that the army ranks highest in the kingdom. It would be needless to inquire how far this principle is just and right. It is enough that it served their turn. Military persons were always much more forwarded than civilians. The military profession was, for a long time, and is, to a certain extent, even now, the only one by which a Prussian can obtain a station in the society of his own country. The royal table and the palace are, in a manner, open to every lieutenant; that is to say, the etiquette of the court prevents civilians, even of very high rank, from appearing at court, while it admits all military officers of the rank of a lieutenant. A system from which regulations like these emanate cannot have been in force for any length of time without exercising a strong influence on the minds of the people. The army in Prussia excites not that curiosity and that romantic enthusiasm which other armies are the objects of, but it is, nevertheless, an object of general and serious interest.

There is, indeed, nowhere so close a connexion between military and private life, as in Prussia. In that country there is no barrier, no line of demarcation between the civilian and the soldier. Every civilian of moderate size and strength has either been a soldier or he is preparing to enter on that career. Only one-third of the Prussian soldiers wear the red and blue coat and the King's cockade. The other two-thirds go about in the dress of peasants, of merchants, of mechanics, of tradesmen: they are in the church, in the schools, in the courts of justice. It is almost impossible to walk three yards in any Prussian town without meeting a soldier. He is not a yeoman or a militiaman: no, he is a bona fide soldier, whose years of drill are over, and whose exercise and manoeuvring is by far more regular and correct than that of the troops of the line. The distinguishing feature of the Prussian army and of military life in that country lies in the conscriptional radicalism of her recruiting system. Recruiting by conscription is by no means a new invention; the thing has often been tried by the arbitrary rulers of different countries, and some modifications of that system are even now in force in some of the continental states. But however severe these systems of