a very

handsome appearance. The hammer (of brass, and about the size of the annexed diagram) is fixed on one side the nipple.

It lies over towards the right, in the direction of the dotted lines, and is pulled over, and the gun fired, by the line represented. The proportions are not quite correct, as, at the angle I have shown, the line could hardly lift the hammer over, but I have shown the plan: the principle is so simple that any mechanic could embody it. Percussion locks of an ordinary shape had superseded flint locks, and the former in turn have given way to the plan I have mentioned.

The plan so well described by the author of the article for setting up the shrouds (and stays) is as yet very sparingly adopted. I only saw it on board a noble two-decker, Diadème, fitted with all kinds of new plans, by way of trial; the plan is not sightly by any means. Not only frigates, but line-of-battle ships also, have their main and mizen channels in one: this, especially in the latter, is heavy and ugly. On board the Diadème there was a new chain cable-compressor, in addition to the curved piece of iron used by us and the French for that purpose, and which they thought likely to supersede it. It consisted of a huge and ponderous iron hammer, situated close within the hawse-hole, on a pair of bits: this gives a rough idea of it:

On letting go the tackle which sustains the hammer, the progress of the chain is instantly stopped, and it was expected that no accident (as breaking in the case of the old compressor) was likely to befall this. The hammer fell so as to fit on to the links, and the whole strain acted longitudinally on the straight piece, whose great strength seemed to insure the safety of the plan.

Your correspondent thinks the not rattling the futtock-shrouds, and the mode of getting through "lubber's hole," an improvement. I have heard naval officers say the reverse-more men can run up outside, abreast, and at once, than in the French (and American) mode; and I have heard it stated as an inconvenience that, if the scuttles over these "holes" are left open, coils of rope, &c., find their way down, and that, were a whole-top permanently made by closing them, it would be better. Au reste, I saw Brest through the kindness of a friend, who gave me a two months' cruise, and my smattering of sea-matters has been picked up from cruises for several years past, and visits to sea ports, and an interest felt in the thing ever since I saw a ship on the sea.

V.

A PENINSULAR SAYING PUT INTO SONG.

MR. EDITOR,―The following lines were written many years ago in the Peninsula. They will recall an expression, in common use there during the war, to the minds of those of your readers who live recollections of the past, and who, thanks to the liberality of a grateful country, have little else to live upon.

To the Editor

of the United Service Journal,

Your very obedient servant,

Away with each quiet domestic enjoyment,

upon the

J. BOBADIL, Capt,

And seek with your bard a more lively employment,

Quit your house, quit your land, quit your wife, quit your farm, ye
Will find there's some fun going on at the Army.

Without bed, without food, without fire, without stable,

'Tis sure your own fault if you're not comfortable;

Without spirits to cheer, or tobacco to calm ye,
There's always some fun going on at the Army.

And then the bull beef that is served out as ration,

Is so hard and so tough it defies mastication;

You your biscuit to break with a hammer must arm ye,
There's always some fun going on at the Army.

Your taste is fastidious, your temper not placid,
The women are hideous, the wine it is acid;
Without wine to enliven, or women to charm ye,
There's always some fun going on at the Army.
Your sleek English horses are grown sorry hacks,
Your mules once so sound have all got sore backs;
Your cloak's worn so thin it no longer will warm ye,
There's always some fun going on at the Army...
The rain falling hard all your equipage drenches,
You are sent without dinner to work in the trenches,
Where shot and where shell every moment alarm ye,
There's always some fun going on at the Army.

And if, by some chance, a benevolent bullet

Should let out your breath through a hole in your gullet;
Why, when you are dead they can't stop to embalm ye,
Amidst all the fun going on at the Army.

U. S. JOURN. No. 117, Aug. 1838.

2 L

HEALTH AND TRAINING OF THE TROOPS.

I AM encouraged to hope that you, Mr. Editor, may be inclined to give admittance to a few hints with regard to a subject which has never yet attracted the notice of any man, either medical or military, but which, nevertheless, seems not without its importance. It is simply the use of oil, so universal with the natives of every hot country. A Greek, who had reached an extreme old age without being exposed to the ordinary infirmities, being asked, to what he owed his immunity from the same, answered, "To oil and honey."

Now, without inquiring into the virtues of the latter specific, I can venture to assert, from personal experience, one good quality of oil, viz., that it is a certain preventive against the bites of those numerous insects that are sometimes the most formidable enemy with whom the soldier or the traveller is doomed to contend. Myriads of those puny assailants abound, as every one knows, in all hot countries. The perpetuity of their attacks, and the impossibility of escape to the unguarded skin of a European, weary out the most robust, and subdue the patience of the hardiest. In addition to the actual torture they inflict, they deprive you of rest, poison the blood, and, by the feverish irritation which they excite, predispose the constitution to the disorders familiar to the climate.

Now, if the mere rubbing a little cocoa-nut (or other) oil over the parts exposed were likely to be an antidote to this tormenting annoyance, it would surely be worth the experiment. Several years passed in a tropical climate, wherein I have frequently slept in the open air, as well as under roof, in situations peculiarly infested with mosquitoes, enable me to testify to the virtues of oil as a protection. Nor is this an opinion formed from my own solitary experience. Many of my companions could attest the entire immunity they derived from merely dipping the finger in a cup of oil, and passing it over the face, legs, &c. Certainly the tormentor in question is said to select his victims, and some bodies are more suitable to his palate than others; yet my own firm opinion is, that there is something in the nature of oil which, in almost every instance, acts as an impregnable case of armour against his attacks. At any rate the experiment would be perfectly innocuous, and might be productive of great benefit. The natives, it will be observed, who are all oiled, suffer little or no annoyance.

And as to the general use of oil so universal in torrid climates, it does seem that there must be something congenial to the human constitution in a custom as much without exception as the wearing of clothes in colder climates. Oil, in lubricating the body, renders the limbs supple and pliant; it closes, or, if you please, covers the pores, and thereby prevents that profuse perspiration which engenders a perpetual thirst, and is probably the primary cause of most diseases. Without presuming to conjecture how far any medical theory may coincide with this opinion, it would surely be a very harmless experiment on a sickly station; and, as fact is better than theory, the example of the natives of the torrid zone, and their general impunity from epidemics destructive to Europeans, would be a strong argument in its favour,

We all know that the custom of anointing the entire person with some unguents, more or less costly, was as universal among the Greeks and Romans as it is now among the less polished people of Hindostan, or the barbarians of Africa. How or when the fashion ceased altogether among Europeans is uncertain. Probably the barbarians who overran the Western Empire despised or neglected a custom altogether unsuited to their native climates, and, as their habits gained the ascendency, the practice thus fell into general disuse. But we know that the Roman troops frequently marched from the cold and frosts of Germany to the burning heats and arid deserts of Africa and Syria, with little injury to their general health. Whether the constant lubrication of their limbs by oil rendered their bodies less sensible of the "skyey influences," is at least a fair subject of conjecture, especially when it is considered that constant bathing was a necessary consequence, and its natural result, personal cleanliness.

With regard to this all-important subject of the health of the troops. and the training men to the labours of war, it really does seem surprising that no systematic plan for this purpose has existed in any European nation since the time of the Greeks and Romans. The loose discipline and desultory expeditions of the feudal militia rendered any general measure of that sort out of the question; but in modern times, when regular armies are trained, armed, and disciplined in every other respect on the most scientific principles, the continuous labour by which alone the human body is enabled to brave without danger, and even to court, extraordinary fatigue, and what sedentary people are wont to call and to consider hardships, this most important part of a soldier's education is left entirely to chance, or the taste and habits of the individual. It might indeed be added, that the prudish regulations of the barrackyard are rather calculated to tempt the soldier to an indolent lounge, and to produce ennui, from which he is driven to seek refuge in the

canteen.

I am aware that abler pens than mine have dwelt upon this important subject, that your Journal has repeatedly suggested to the proper authorities the great benefits the Service could not fail to derive from a few months of camp duty in the summer, and the encouragement of military sports and other matters conducive to the soldier's health, or calculated to inspire a right military feeling. In the name of wonder, what are they about? Do they conceive a soldier is to be treated like a housedog, alternately caressed or neglected, according to circumstances? Is he to be tied up in ordinary, and only let loose when his services are required? But the noblest animal may be ruined by constant inaction. He must be regularly trained to his arduous duties, if it is expected that he should face with success the wild ranger of the forest.

All the celebrated republics of antiquity trained men to war, by the enforcement of certain daily labours calculated to inure their bodies to fatigue, or by the legislative encouragement of every military sport likely to rouse their native energies and prepare them for the battlefield. The spade and pick-axe were instruments as familiar to the Roman soldier as the sword and pilum. They constructed roads whose permanent solidity astonishes us at the present day. Their useful labours were directed not only to the fortifying every camp, but to the erection of forts, harbours, and buildings of the most durable description

and of general utility. They amused their leisure hours by athletic sports, racing, jumping, swimming, throwing the discus, hurling the javelin, or shooting with the arrow; and the conqueror in all these exercises was invariably rewarded by an honorary distinction, coupled with some substantial prize. In every climate they vied with the native in braving the weather; they yielded not to the robust German in bodily vigour, nor to the nimble African in celerity. As long as this discipline was rigidly enforced victory was constant to their standards; but, when the disorders of the State introduced a fatal relaxation, the hardy barbarians soon taught them that mere science in general tactics is an insufficient substitute for personal vigour in the private soldier.

It may be thought, and has been sometimes asserted, that bodily strength is not so requisite since the invention of gunpowder, but no one will deny that personal vigour is even now of the first importance-that it necessarily implies high health and a capability of enduring hardships. But, though strength may be born with a man, the vigour I speak of is a thing to be acquired; it is the result of long habit and continuous labour; it renders constant bodily exercise one of the pleasures of life. A Spanish peasant, it has been observed, will, after a journey of forty miles, instead of retiring to rest, join the dance on the green; and an Englishman, in similar circumstances, will enjoy his game of cricket. The most skilful boxer submits to a hard and painful training whenever he prepares for actual conflict; and if the incessant labour of the Roman soldier is incompatible with modern habits, yet those military sports and pastimes which are so congenial to the national taste might, by a very little official encouragement, be rendered a tolerable substitute. Every barrack-yard should have two or three fives-courts, and every permanent military depôt a piece of ground sufficiently extensive for the purposes of a sporting ground. Their Campus Martius would thus become the favourite resort of the soldiery, and if it did not supersede would infallibly nullify the baneful effects of the canteen.

As to the idea of weaning the private from bad habits by books and reading, or the introduction of regimental schools, it really seems too ridiculous for argument. If a man has a taste that way he will improve himself, and is sure to meet with encouragement. But such is the composition and temper of our army, that probably nine-tenths of the men would rather submit to the hardest out-door labour than be doomed to spend their leisure hours in scrawling pot-hooks or spelling in a hornbook.

Since the first introduction of a standing military force by Louis XI., or perhaps his father, the French have paid the most solicitous attention to their armies. The military character under the old régime, as well as the new, has always been held in high repute. Certain privileges have been conceded; and, among other modes of inspiring enthusiasm and making the soldier proud of his situation, the frequent fêtes with which they are indulged, and free admission to places of public resort, are not the least valuable. Where would be the harm or what the danger if soldiers were allowed, under certain restrictions as to time, to view the Tower, the Museum, and other such deposits? And what sordid economy would grudge the expense of a fête on the anniversary of some glorious exploit performed by a regiment? Double rations for a single day would be sufficient; and, supposing them to be permitted to invite