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women in these days-but we cannot say that the effort is successful in Esther Summerson. In the ordinary type of heroines-in the Agnes Wickfield, the Ada, the Kate Nickleby - Mr Dickens is very generally successful. These young ladies are pretty enough, amiable enough, generous enough, to fill their necessary places with great credit and propriety, but to produce an individual woman is another and quite a different matter. We have a strong impression that, except for the highest and most commanding genius, a woman of a high ideal, and yet of a distinct individual character, is almost an impossible achievement. We have female writers in these days of very considerable talents and pretensions, but which of them can make a man? Vague pieces of perfection figure in a woman's novel for the heroes, and indistinct visions of beauty and sweetness represent, for the most part, the heroines of a man. That it should be so is according to all the rules of nature, which in every case leaves a haze of mutual attraction and ignorance upon the twain representatives of creation --a haze which nothing short of the highest eminence can look over and into, and not always even that. Perhaps the greatest of all Sir Walter's claims to a sovereign place (especially now, when we are so much wiser than Sir Walter, and complain that his stories are only stories, and not dissections of human motive and purpose), is the wonderful impersonation of Jeanie Deans, a picture which, in our judgment, is quite unequalled, thoroughly idealised, yet as true as daylight, and as perfect a woman as ever woman was; but as Jeanie, noble as she is, could never have been her historian's love and ladye, even she does not quite enter into the class of heroines, a perfect example of which is one of the highest criterions of genius.

Mr Dickens' day has already been a long one in the popular regard-who could believe that it is nearly twenty years since his star came into the ascendant?-but he is still to his loving public the same young power that first charmed them, and has still to come to the climax of his fame. We do not care to linger on the few other works he has published-on the Christmas books, which are rather means

by which the world is privileged to bestow a splendid and appropriate Christmas "box" upon its favourite than productions worthy of his fame -or upon the American and Italian Notes which belong to Charles Dickens, and not to the author of Copperfield. In his own sphere, no man living equals Mr Dickens-and perhaps there is no modern writer of whom we can say so confidently that his great excellences are innate, and not acquired. Much as he moves us to laughter, we know that quite as skilfully, and often with great delicacy and tenderness, he can move us to tears. Nor do we fail to find noble sentiments and just views of human nature in these works of genius, which may take their place, as illustrations of our age and daily fashion of existence, on an equal platform with the highest productions of the same class in any period of our history. Mr Dickens has won for himself what is more to the purpose than the approbation of criticism, an affectionate welcome in the households and homes of his country. We are told by the authority of statistics that no books are so much read in our public libraries as these and the persons of his tales are to us all familiar associates, whom we quote with all the ease of acquaintanceship. But while we grant all this, we would fain add a word of friendly counsel to the warm admiration we offer. The law of kindness has come to man under the very loftiest sanction, and kindness sublimated into charity, Love, is the pervading spirit of the Gospel;-yet there is such a thing as unwise kindness, injurious love, maudlin charity, a weak suffusion of universal benevolence which is good for nothing but pretty speeches, pretty pictures, pretty sentiments and actions. Mr Dickens' hand does not appear, we confess, where his name does, on the periodical which it has pleased him to call Household Words, yet he is in some degree responsible for the very poor platitudes which scarcely could reach any public, one would think, save for that "conducted by Charles Dickens" on the top of the page. What does Mr Dickens mean by all the caressing condescension with which this powerful organ of his strokes down "the poor"-by all these small admir

able moral histories, these truths and wonders diluted to the meanest capacity? what by his admiration of the frightful little weedy arbours at Battersea or Greenwich, where his working man carries his family, and improves his Sunday by a pipe and a pint of beer? There is a wonderful natural power of degeneracy in all false arguments;;-we are not about to enter into what is called the Sabbath question. The Sabbath, sweet boon of Heaven, was made for man, and we have no desire to thrust our oldfashioned opinion upon the enlightened liberality of Mr Dickens; but when the best way of spending this day of leisure came to be discussed first, does not everybody remember what beautiful pictures we had of the poor man's Sabbath in the fields-of his meditative walk through the lanes and summer footpaths, where the flowers and the trees preached much better sermons to him than he could hear in the ugly little brick church at home? What an ethereal being was the working man in this refined worship of his !— what a delightful purity encircled this meditative spirit, whose tastes were so delicate, and his perceptions so keen! Alas! the scene has changed. We no longer find it necessary to have fancy pictures of worship in the fields; we give up the stupid necessity of worship anywhere. "No," says Mr Dickens, or at all events the person who ought to be Mr Dickens, writing with all the weight and sanction of his

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John Opus, who has been toiling all the week, does not go into the fields to worship; but he goes to a tea-garden, taking with him all the little Opuses, who are only too happy to share their respectable parent's beer,-and we have a fulllength picture of the happy family in the arbour where the working man smokes his pipe and takes his Sunday pleasure a picture much more true, if it is not quite so ethereal, as that other picture of the Sunday morning, -the sermon of the flowers, and the worship of refinement, with which the argument began. But, in sober ear

nest, does Mr Dickens believe in this Greenwich tea-garden?-is it so much more satisfactory than the littleBethel? In this nineteenth century, with all our boasts and our enlightenment, are a pipe and a pint of beer the utmost delights which Mr Dickens can offer, in his day of leisure, to the working man? The waiter, in his white apron, with his tray of glasses-is he a better influence than the poor preacher? And the beer-stains on the table in the arbour, and the long pipes, and the talk-are these things more good, more beautiful, more improving for the little Opuses, than even the miseries of church-going? It is an old, old system to set up pleasure as the only thing which makes life tolerable; but this, at the utmost, is only amusement, not pleasure. And every life has insupportable days in it-slow, tedious, lingering hours, when the cry of Patience, patience, will not content the restless agony? What then?-are we to have nothing but the tea-garden?-nothing but the horse-riding? —nothing but the delights of art, however noble, or imagination, however refined? Let Mr Dickens think better of this grievous yet glorious mystery, this life which craves something more than relaxation. Not many days since, we chanced to read, in a little American publication for children, a dream of heaven, in which heaven was very much like a tea-garden; but it is hard to content human creatures, insatiable and unreposing, either with Mr Dickens' Greenwich arbour, or the American lady's heaven of flowers.

But to Mr Dickens, in his purer and higher authorship, this censure does not reach; and we have nothing to say to the author of David Copperfield, of Tom Pinch, of a hundred other pleasant creations, but the hearty goodspeed which would drown the ravings of the equinox with its resounding echo, could every individual who joins in the wish, join in the utterance. A kinder audience no man ever had, and it becomes their favourite to use them well.

STATE OF THE MILITIA.

THE critical state of our army in the Crimea, and the perplexities occasioned by the Ministerial changes at home, have naturally, for some time past, engrossed the attention of the public. But now that the springs of Government are again in motion, it is our common duty to look narrowly to the means which may be employed for developing the military strength of the British nation, and for enabling us to maintain, in what possibly may be a protracted struggle, that position which we have already assumed as a first-rate European power. We shall not venture to speculate upon the effect which the death of the Emperor Nicholas may have upon existing combinations. Great, energetic, ambitious as he was,-still he was but a man; and the policy which he pursued, and the designs which he strove to execute, were far less intended for his own aggrandisement than for that of the nation which he ruled. Russian to the heart's core, he has bequeathed to his successor the traditions which he had himself received; and the first act of that successor has been to declare his unflinching adhesion to the ancient policy of the empire. We have no title whatever to expect that the restoration of European tranquillity may be the result of the conferences at Vienna. We must remember that at this moment the British and French armies are encamped on Russian ground-that for months past they have been laying siege to the great Russian fortress, arsenal, and depôt on the Black Sea -that the Allies have gone too far to resile without accomplishing their purpose-and that Russia has by far too much at stake in the East to permit Sebastopol to be taken and dismantled without the strongest opposition. Anxiously as we desire the return of peace, we cannot avoid the conviction that the war is as yet too young. The quarrels of nations are like those of individuals. Taken

at the early stage, before the passions are fully inflamed, they may be adjusted; but when once the parties are in the field, and confront each other,

it is almost impossible to separate them. Such has been our opinion from the earliest moment when the aggressive intentions of Russia were announced; and bitterly indeed have we deplored the chance which, at a time when firm and undisguised remonstrances might have operated upon the mind of the Czar, left the moral power of Britain in the hands of a feeble and selfish Ministry, who had not the courage, if they had the inclination, to oppose themselves resolutely to his will. But we shall not dwell upon the past. Looking alone to the present position of European affairs and European armaments, we are not justified, from any analogy which history affords, in believing that this stupendous quarrel can be so easily accommodated. In the face of the enormous levies which Russia has raised, it seems incredible that she will yield Sebastopol. If Sebastopol is not yielded or dismantled, we may have again, under worse auspices, to recommence another war. In short, we have no belief that the diplomatic engines assembled at Vienna will have any effect in subduing the present European conflagration.

We say this, because-while we acknowledge the full propriety of attempting every possible method for pacification which is consistent with national honour, national responsibilities, and national duty-we are desirous that our countrymen should not be too sanguine as to the results of such endeavours; or suppose that, because they are made, it is not incumbent upon them to prepare for the utmost exigency. Statesmen, pending negotiations, cannot be expected to avow their opinion that such negotiations will prove fruitless, or altogether nugatory. Their language must be, or ought to be, guarded; and the public, if they do not choose to be wilfully deceived, must accept it with some qualification.

The chances of peace are at best remote and uncertain; whereas war is around us in all its grim reality. Therefore it is obviously the duty of Ministers, and of the national repre

sentatives, not to suffer themselves to be led astray by hopes of early pacification, but to carry on their preparations with the utmost vigour and vigilance. We are desirous to give the present Government credit for sincerity of intention; and we shall not attribute to them collectively or individually any share of that responsibility for neglect and mismanagement which rests upon their predecessors. But the task which they have undertaken is obviously a most serious one, and it concerns us all to see that their duty is properly discharged.

The House of Commons has already recognised, by its vote, the absolute and immediate necessity of making a large increase to the numbers of the standing army; and it is with regard to the best means for accomplishing that end that the present remarks are intended. There is no denying the fact, that, at the outbreak of the present war, we were not prepared to take the field in that force which could insure success. What available troops we had were sent out, but there was no proper reserve; and some of the reinforcing regiments which arrived at Balaklava, since the commencement of the investiture of Sebastopol, were mainly composed of recruits, uninured to military hardship, and unskilled in military duty. The natural consequence of this was a fearful mortality among the men, who were conveyed, it is said, at the rate of upwards of a hundred per day, from the trenches to the hospitals, from which few of them emerged in a condition fit for service in the field. This awful and calamitous expenditure of human life has thrown an immense additional difficulty in the way of the augmentation of the army; and we really believe that the most difficult problem to be solved at the present time relates to the sources from which the proposed augmentation is to come.

We have no statistics which enable us to speak with anything like certainty as to the number of men who have lately been directly recruited into the army; but we doubt very much whether the result has answered the expectations of the Government. We have heard nothing for a

long time on the subject of the enlistment of the foreign legion, a measure which the late Ministry considered of such very great importance; and we are given to understand, upon good authority, that the recruiting of the militia is nearly at a stand-still.

Yet, unless immediate and vigorous steps are taken for the complete organisation of the latter forceunless Ministers bestow upon it tenfold the attention which it has yet received-we are firmly of opinion that it will not be possible to make the requisite addition to the ranks of the British army. We have to raise, within a very short time, a large number of men competent for effective service in the field; and where are we to look for these except in draughts from the militia? Manifestly it is not for the advantage or credit of the country that men enlisted in one month from the agricultural or manufacturing population, should be despatched in the next to active service, before they have learned even the rudiments of their profession. We cannot take upon ourselves to say what time may be required for the proper training of a soldier; but it must be obvious to all that something more is necessary than the stout heart and strong determination which induces a recruit to enter. The militia ought to be, in time of war, not only the nursery, but the academy for British soldiers; and until it is regarded in that light, and until the proper means are taken for promoting its efficiency to the utmost, we cannot expect to see arrayed in the field such an army as becomes the honour of Britain to produce.

Let it be understood that we are not charging the present Ministry with neglect; which would indeed be unfair, considering the short period which has elapsed since their accession to power, and the many difficulties which have lain in their way. But we entreat that they will give, without any delay, their earliest consideration to the state of the militia in Great Britain and Ireland, and adopt such steps as may render it a truly efficient body from which the regular army may be reinforced by a far more effective process than that of ordinary recruiting. And, in order to do so, it

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seems to us absolutely necessary that the direction and control of the militia should be removed from the office of the Home Secretary, and placed under adequate superintendence. Unless this is done, the public money will be squandered in vain; and the only reliable force for recruiting the ranks of the regular army must prove ineffiIcient at the time when we most urgently require its assistance.

The existing arrangements as to the embodiment and training of the militia are, we believe, very nearly, if not altogether, the same in England, Scotland, and Ireland. But the English Militia Act was passed in June 1852, and may have proved, from certain circumstances to which we shall presently advert, more successful than the Act which, at the very close of last Session, was applied to Scotland. We hope that such is the case, and that the difficulty which has been felt in obtaining the proper complement of men in the northern part of the United Kingdom, has not been But we experienced in the south. think it will be acknowledged that the present state of the Scottish militia affords us quite sufficient scope for comment, and is important enough to justify us in selecting it as the subject of illustration.

By the Act passed on 11th August 1854, the quota of private militia-men to serve for the several counties of Scotland, is restricted to ten thousand. The force is a volunteer one, is divided into seventeen regiments, and is apportioned thus:

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These are all to be raised by voluntary enlistment, and the appointment of the officers lies with the Lords

Lieutenant of counties. The order of Council apportioning the quotas of the

several counties was issued on the 13th of September last; so that the enlistment has been going on for more than six months. Let us see with what effect.

From a document quoted in the Times of 10th March, it appears that returns have been received from eleven of the above regiments now embodied, and their collective force is thus stated:

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From the six other regiments, of which one or two have been embodied, there are no returns; but we have good grounds for believing that in them the deficiency is much greater. We know that in some of the northern districts it has been found difficult to procure a single volunteer; and it is our conviction that, at the present moment, the number of the militia enrolled in Scotland does not amount to 5000 men.

It is of the utmost possible importance that these facts should be made known, so that a remedy may be applied in time. If out of a population of nearly 3,000,000, Scotland, in the time of war, can barely raise 5000 men for the militia, we may be certain that there are serious faults in the system which is presently pursued. This is a matter which demands the instant attention of the Ministry and of Parliament; for the time is short, and the enormous levies of Russia are already in the field. If the militia, in this part of the country, is to be made effective as a reserve force or nursery for the army, or even available for

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