Commander, somewhat taken aback.

"There was no need to, sir," replied the Curate, picking up a choice fallen morsel from off the ground, inspecting it, and rejecting it with a look of disappointment. "Sergeant Fgot behind the joker and just caught him one in the back with the butt-end-enough to make him gasp and cough and splutter; and after that, although the good lady bawled at us and the youngsters shook their fists, the boss got ever so much more sensible. He talked English and seemed to realise that there was something to be said on our side."

"Was he a loyal farmer, by any chance?" put in the Intelligence-Merchant who was leaning in through the Vthrough the Vshaped opening of the tent, his eyes almost starting out of his head with suppressed excitement. "There's Du Plessis out there, just about where you must have been, and he's supposed to be as straight as a die and sends in information. Could it have been him, do you think?"

"I don't know," responded the Curate. "To tell you the truth, it did not occur to me to inquire the gentleman's name nor to ascertain his views on current topics. You see, we hadn't knocked him up in the small hours to discuss politics with him. We wanted his cape-cart and we got his cape-cart."

"Go on, Curate, and don't be so discursive," said the Second-in-Command, not with

out symptoms of appreciation in his voice. "You say all this took place at 1 A.M. It's 3 P.M. now. What have you been at all these hours in your cart?

The Curate evidently thought that his Commanding Officer was not pleased. "We really had to go very slowly at the start," he explained in some trepidation; "we might have got off the road, and then we should have been done, and it didn't get light enough to see for several hours. Then, towards dawn, when our difficulties as to keeping to the road ended, we saw a lot of Boers about and we had to make one or two longish détours. After that it took no end of time visiting the different farms as we came along, and at one place we had to hide-cart and all-for quite half an hour: luckily the farmer was on our side-or said he was.'

"But what in the world did you want to be visiting the different farms for," demanded the Second-in-Command, "absenting yourself when I might have wanted you here?"

The Curate turned brick-red in sudden dismay. "I really didn't think you would like me to drive past a lot of farms like that without getting what I could," he urged, watching his Commanding Officer's face in an agony of apprehension. "I hope you don't mind much. It seemed to me that there might never be such a chance again; and," gathering courage, "as a matter of fact, we didn't do at all 80 so badly.

There's a whole heap of bread and a great big fowl to come over from the cart; and there's quite five dozen eggs-they asked a lot but I beat them down,—and," putting the suggestion forward tentatively and with a becoming humility, "I thought that perhaps we might spare some of them for the Colonel's mess."

He had, by favour of good fortune and of his own sound nerves and pluck, foiled the enemy at the moment when the trap so nearly closed upon his troop. Then, with his three comrades, he had found his way for miles through unknown country on a moonless night; while on his dangerous and anxious journey he had by a happy inspiration made himself master of the means to move with ease and rapidity.

THERE is a proud satisfaction in the memory that, whenever the safety of England has been threatened, there has been no lack of men to volunteer in her defence. Our patriotism is not a mere matter of lip-service. We are not content to shout in the streets; and though, wrongly, as we think, our citizens are not compelled to carry arms by

the mere fact of their citizenship, they have always answered the country's call. The enemies of England are wont to declare that nothing but panic will move us. Even if this be true, it is true also that, when once we are moved, we know better than the men of any other nation how to conceal the signs of panic, and if our Volunteers have not always replied until the cry is raised of "the country in danger," they have then borne themselves with soldierly steadiness, and have been ready to resist the invader without haste and without

fear.

The story of the Volunteers cannot vie with the story of the Army in colour and picturesqueness. They are not enveloped in an atmosphere of romance. Prepared as they always were for for the last sacrifice, they have been called upon to face no worse enemies than heavy showers or long marches under a summer sun. It is wellnigh a thousand years since England was suc

cessfully invaded, and those who are asked to guard our shores have cherished no sure hope of shedding their blood or giving their life upon the field of battle. For this very reason they deserve a keener sympathy, a higher praise. They have worked hard to understand the duties of a soldier, and they have worked without the glory, which is

The

the end of the soldier's ambition. And, as we have said, they have never grudged their dull and patient service. In every age there is the same tale to tell. For instance, in 1779, when all the world was arrayed against England, the task of strengthening the defences of the country was undertaken with unexampled speed and generosity. Act of Parliament, which authorised those who would to raise loyal corps of Volunteers, was not passed quickly enough to suit the temper of Englishmen. "Long before Volunteers could be thought of," says Mr Fortescue, "noblemen and gentlemen came forward with offers to raise regular regiments at their own expense; and within two months thirteen regiments of infantry for general service, three regiments of fencible infantry, a twenty-second regiment of light dragoons, and yet another small corps of cavalry, were all raising without cost to the country. . . At the same time corps of Volunteers sprang

The history of the movement is still to be written, and as it touches the manners of an epoch as well as the welfare of the Empire it is well worth writing. Meanwhile two excellent books have been published, which set forth at length and in detail one chapter of this unwritten history. They are well designed for simultaneous publication, for most ingeniously do they supplement one another. Major-General Grierson's book is a work of profound research, a mine of invaluable information. It is the stuff whereof history is made, and no one will ever venture to write of the Volunteers without consulting this grave treatise. It omits nothing which touches the life, the prowess, the accoutrements of the Scottish Volunteer Force. Its pictorial representation of the uniforms is clear and accurately coloured, and if it be not the kind of book which you will read after dinner in an arm-chair it will stand for ever as a complete and authentic record. Sir John Maodonald's Fifty Years of It' is composed upon another plan. It makes little pretence to system; it does not attempt to exhaust its subject; rather it shows us the history of the Edinburgh Volunteers as its author saw them, and incidentally it paints a vivid portrait of the author himself. In other words, it is hum

orous and alert, and while it contains not a little technical discussion, it is written in so lively and luminous a style that it will interest those who know nothing of drill and could not define such simple terms as "touch" or "right in front." But, as we have said, the two books supplement one another, and may most wisely be consulted together.

Before we discuss Sir John Macdonald's book it is worth while to consider what was the use and purpose of the Volunteers when they were enrolled in 1859. And here we cannot do better than refer any who are still interested in the Volunteer movement to Part I. of Major - General Grierson's excellent volume, where will be found a full and comprehensive account of the origin and history of the force. The Volunteers were intended, of course, for the defence of Great Britain. It was not for them to fight their country's battles abroad or to protect our great dependencies from mutiny or aggression. At the same time, as Sir John points out, the Volunteer did not play at soldiers; he did not find an attraction in a uniform and a band, nor was he putting off the day of compulsory servicenow at last not far distant-by pretending to the public that it had a defensive force which was equal to the last emerg