the aid of a "medium," call back the spirit of a yuμvaoiapxos of ancient times from the Elysian plains, and if we could prevail on him to undertake the preparation of our athletes, how great would be the contrast between his directions and those of a trainer of our own day. He would first cause his pupil to be oiled from top to toe, to check, as much as possible, perspiration: the modern instructor, on the contrary, would make his man don his "sweating flannels," and run in them till he has lost many pounds' weight of liquid, when he will remain for the rest of the day in a state of thirst which would recall to the Greek the torments of Tantalus whom he has left below, while the similarity would be heightened by the obdurate refusal of the professional to grant his pupil a draught of water to cool his burning throat. Now, it may be as well to state, once for all, that perspiration has nothing to do with fat it is respiration, not perspiration, which regulates this. Neither flesh nor fat is made by the water we drink. Perspiration depends upon the circulation, and will in a healthy skin be regulated by the requirements of the circulating blood, and by the nervous system which controls the secreting apparatus. The watery portion of the blood is thrown off by the skin to relieve the circulation in other parts, as is seen on many occasions as well as during exercise. It is good to have the skin in efficient condition for this purpose, and this is brought about by baths, hot and cold, by rubbing, and such means; but nature will control the amount given off, which will not be very great if the clothing be light and the weather not excessively hot. As a consequence of profuse perspiration we experience intense thirst: many never feel this except they have perspired much, nor ought they if they are in good condition. Excessive thirst, when the weather is not very hot, and perspiration has not been very great, is to be looked upon as a sign of bad condition, of mal-assimilation, whereby the blood is defective in its proper proportion of water.

There is no harm in drinking wholesome fluids to allay the thirst produced by perspiration. The water of the blood has been thrown off during the violent muscular efforts, to relieve the circulation; after the work is over, the blood is deficient in its water, and thirst is the consequence. If the atmosphere be moist, this water may be re-absorbed by the skin, and if we get into a warm bath, our thirst will soon be quenched in this way; but if the air be hot and dry, and we do not immerse our skin in water, we must take it into the circulation by the stomach, and it is mere cruelty to animals to withhold it. The latter method should not be adopted, however, till the rowing or running is ended. The sudden pouring in upon the stomach of a quantity of cold water will not benefit respiratory efforts, if they have to be made shortly after. To allay thirst, it is important that the fluids be appropriate; for many, as beer, will surely increase it, as will sweet fruit or ices, however grateful to the mouth they may be. It is often found that the frequent drinking even of water will increase thirst, and that a pebble held in the mouth, or something chewed to stimulate the salivary organs, is more efficacious.

As a practical application of these principles, we may give a brief sketch of a day in training. As it is supposed that every man undergoing this preparation is able to get to bed at a reasonably early hour, there will be nothing to prevent his being out of bed again by seven o'clock or even earlier. He will now-a-days as a matter of course sponge his body with cold water, or have a shower bath, and a thorough rubbing afterwards. He will then go out to take exercise before breakfast. Here authorities begin to differ, and undoubtedly the men to be trained differ as widely as the trainers. The latter constantly recommend hard running before breakfast, and this is what comparatively few men can stand. Many a man comes home sick from such a run; he is so nauseated that he can eat no breakfast, and he is thrown out for the whole of the day. The bodily system is devoid of food; what was taken the preceding evening has long since been digested and consumed; and this violent effort is made while the muscular and nerve organs are in a state of inanition. It is good for a man, however, to be out in the fresh air for an hour or so before his first meal; he will get an increased appetite, but walking exercise is all he need take. **The walk," says Charles Westhall the pedestrian, "should be taken at such a pace that the skin does not become moist, but have a good healthy glow on the surface, and the man be at once ready for his breakfast at eight o'clock." And he recommends that before this walk an egg in a cup of tea, or something of the kind, should be taken. The breakfast need not invariably consist of a mutton-chop or cutlet. Any fresh meat, or poultry, or fish, or some of each, and even some marmalade, may be eaten with tea or coffee. After breakfast a reasonable time must be allowed for digestion. Almost every man has some sedentary work, and this will be a good time for it. The hour of dinner must depend upon the season of the year in summer-time, when the hardest rowing or running is to be done in the evening, the dinner-hour must of necessity be at one or two o'clock. In the winter months this hour would not admit of digestion being duly performed before rowing-time, so lunch must take the place of dinner, the latter being postponed till work is over. Whether it be summer or winter, men must not loll about idly all the morning; on the contrary, they must employ at least two hours before the mid-day meal in exercise of some kind,-running, rowing, or gymnastics. If the river can be reached twice in the day, so much the better. "Rowing exercise should be taken twice every day," says H. Clasper. If this be not practicable, then sharp running, walking, and other exercise, must take its place. Let it not be forgotten that constant exercise, spread over a long period, is necessary to bring the muscular system into condition which can be depended upon. Muscle may be full and firm; yet if it be inactive. for the greater part of its existence, it will not be capable of long and sustained exertion. Look at the muscle of the breast of a fowl or a pheasant; it is not deficient, it is large and plump; it serves its purpose when called upon. But if we contrast it with that of a grouse or a wood-pigeon, what a difference may be observed. The muscle of the

latter birds is so dark from arterialized material and blood-vessels, that it looks black beside the "white meat" of the former. The one is incessantly in motion, taking active exercise in quest of food and shelter, the other scarcely moves about at all, save on its legs. Now, we want to approach the condition of the grouse, not of the hen, to be capable not only of a violent and short, but also of a longsustained effort, and for this many hours' exercise every day is needed. Dinner may be far more varied than is usually allowed by trainers' rules. Any kind of butcher's meat, plainly cooked, with a variety of fresh vegetables, may be taken, with ordinary light puddings or stewed fruit without paste. If a man be thirsty let him eschew beer. Water, or claret and water, will refresh him more, and may be taken with less stint. After dinner, rest and quiet are necessary; in hot weather a siesta can hardly be avoided, nor need we fear to indulge in it. All animals are taught by Nature to sleep after meals. After three or four hours it will be time to commence the evening's row or run, which is to conclude the work of the day. This, it is to be feared, is much curtailed at Oxford in the present day. Mr. Maclaren tells us that "crews are taken over the long course to Nuneham perhaps once or twice during their practice." The rowing or running at this time should be extended over at least two hours at various speeds, and great care should be taken not to do too much at the top speed. If a man or à crew has been exercised at high pressure on one day, he should be allowed to do less the following evening, and he will be all the better on the third. It is a great mistake to fix consecutive nights for the races at Oxford, and to have departed from the old custom of rowing them with one day intervening. When work is over, a man may have a bath and be well rubbed down. A bath will greatly relieve him, if he be thirsty. Let him drink water if his thirst does not abate, and rinse his mouth frequently. Next comes supper, and although this need not be a second dinner, yet a man should not go supperless to bed. We confess to a prejudice against the oatmeal porridge and gruel which is the established supper of trainers, and lean to the belief that cold meat and bread with jelly or blanc-mange are quite as nourishing and much more palatable. Finally, the bedroom should be airy and the bedclothes light; it is scarcely worth while in the present day to inveigh against feather-beds and down-pillows.

From the foregoing remarks, those who are in training may conclude that their special preparation does not depend so much upon the nature of their meat and drink as upon the constant and vigorous exercise of their muscles.

Reminiscences of an English Cadet in the Austrian Service.

Ar this time, when the various systems of the Continental military powers— the difference between theirs and our own in the mode of recruiting the ranks, and the kind of discipline enforced, &c.-are so eagerly discussed, it is possible that such an account of them as my seven years' experience in the Austrian service (from cadet to captain) may afford would not be unwelcome to the reading public. That they differ from our own in a very essential degree it is hardly necessary to state; the absolute control practised, and the relations subsisting between officers and men, do not correspond with our ideas on such points. And this arises from causes which lie at the very root of their system, as will be seen in the following pages, in which I have related my reminiscences as simply and truthfully as I can.

The circumstances which inclined me to enter the military profession were not more significant or important than those which usually determine a boy in his choice of a career. Though I was intended for the law, my father, by a profitable, and at that time rare inspiration, decided on sending me to Neufchatel for three years, in order to acquire the French language, his notion being that every additional modern language learned doubles a man's power and means. Nor is this far from the truth, for a varied experience in after-life made me quite certain that while with a bad or dishonest interpreter you have no kind of chance, even the very best of these men have the knack, either by intonation or expression, of misrepresenting your real idea, in spite of their giving a literal translation of your words. Among the boys at the Neufchatel gymnase I had two fast friends, the one English, the other French. The former was the son of a distinguished British officer, and was intended for the army; the latter was also preparing for the French service, but I afterwards met with him in-the Austrian ranks, and since then a French bullet, at the battle of Solferino, struck him dead on the field. Inspired by an ardour beyond their years, these boys often entered into keen discussions as to the respective merits of the English and French generals and their systems of tactics. Fresh from King's College School, I listened at first without much interest, but before long I caught their enthusiasm, and was as hot in dispute and juvenile eloquence as either of the others. On my return to England I told my father that my unalterable desire was to become a soldier, and he at once kindly and wisely consented. His private means did not permit him to purchase for me a commission in the English army, at that time even a more expensive service than it is now, and as I was well aware that a number of English gentlemen had obtained commissions in Austria, I immediately applied to a German friend, and through him procured a

letter of introduction to the then Minister of War in Austria, setting forth my ambition to serve under the Emperor. Of what would be required from me, and all other details, I was in a state of trustful innocence. I knew I should have to enter as a cadet, which I supposed signified the same thing as an 'ensign in our army (a very great mistake on my part), and I thought I ought to be able to speak and understand German; and it was with this view that I took the long route, by Hamburg, to Vienna, imagining I should pick up the language on the road. The day after my arrival at the Austrian capital I presented myself at the K. K. KriegsMinisterin, or as we should call it, at the War Office department. My get-up must have considerably astonished the icial to whom I applied for information as to where his Excellency mini be seen. In Austria, as on the Continent everywhere, it is le rigueur for any person presenting himself officially to be attired in full evening-dress, whereas I wore a black cut-away coat and waistcoat, and an exceedingly tight pair of shepherd's plaid trousers, for it must be borne in mind that I was little more than a growing boy. When I remember my unhappy costume on that occasion, and the extraordinary figure I must have cut, I am often surprised that I was not summarily ejected from the sacied precincts. But Austrian goodnature is almost inexhaustible, and I was at once admitted into the room where the Minister was holding his levée. His Excellency was standing, surrounded by officers of high rank, and was deeply engaged in conversation. Several civilians were likewise present, in full evening attire, and I instantly became aware of my peculiar position, and could have sunk into the ground when I felt rather than saw that all eyes were turned on me and my unfortunate dress. I obeyed my first impulse, which was to endeavour to back out immediately, inquiring in French, as I did so, whether my presence there was not a mistake. But the orderlies to whom I spoke understood not one word of what I said, and their reply was equally unintelligible to me, for the German which I had intended to pick up on my road entirely failed me at this crisis. However, an officer, whom I afterwards ascertained was one of the aides-de-camp to the Minister of War, crossed over to me, and addressed me in French. I explained to him my fears that I was not where I ought to be, or indeed as I ought to be. He only partially reassured me on this head, but taking my letter of introduction, he at once placed it in the hands of his Excellency. Never in all my life, before or since, have I felt myself, as an American would say, "so mean." It was my first entrance in the official world, and it seemed that I was already doing something wrong, though how or why I did not precisely know; one by one those present departed, and I hid myself as well as I could behind those who remained. But my defence in this respect grew momentarily more inadequate, and at last I was the only creature left standing before the Minister and his Staff. During that mauvais quart d'heure I had imbibed an intense awe for the stern military glances which these gentlemen cast on me, but which were perhaps, after all, mere curiosity to know what my business really was. If this were so, they VOL. XV.-No. 85.

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