have always been of a particularly good type. There are now, as far as can be ascertained, 64 old boys at the front, of whom five have been killed. Three Military Crosses have been gained, and three mentions in dispatches.

Lower Canada College, Montreal, though now a large and flourishing day and boarding school, has only been in existence some six or seven years, and possesses very few old boys as yet. But, even so, it can show upwards of 60 on active service, a number which will largely increase if the war is prolonged, as it is sending forth every term boys of exactly the calibre and training to obey the call without hesitation. So far it has four who have given their lives on its Roll of Honor; it has also two D.S.O.'s to its credit.

Rothesay Collegiate School, N. B., is another quite small school, averaging about 60 boys. In spite of the fact that very little recruiting has been done in the maritime provinces til quite recently, it has 79 old boys on active service. Of these, two have been killed and one is missing. One D.C.M. has been won and one D.S.O.

As I have said, this list of schools does not pretend to be exhaustive. There are others about which I have no information, but which have, no doubt, done equally well. Former schoolmasters, like myself, as well as those still engaged in teaching, who have been at the work for any length of time, find an added sorrow in the present war in the number of our finest pupils whom we mourn as fallen. But it is some consolation to feel that, alike in 'England and Canada, the system of training for which the Public Schools stand has more than justified itself in this crisis of the Empire's fortunes.

Turning to the Universities, we should not expect to find quite the same response as has been made by Oxford and Cambridge. Canadian Universities are much more akin to those of

Scotland than to the two ancient English Universities. Boys from the schools I have mentioned never go to a University as a matter of course, to obtain a kind of finishing-touch to their education, as so many go from the English Public Schools to Oxford and Cambridge. The Canadian boy only proceeds to a University in order to gain the necessary qualifications for entering upon a professional or scientific career. There are but very few Residential Colleges, none at all in some Universities, and the few that there are do not very closely resemble an Oxford or Cambridge College. A very large proportion of the students pay their own way through their University course, either by earning a sufficient sum of money before they enter or by taking remunerative work during the long summer vacation. As for the majority of them their whole future depends upon the winning of a degree, it can be readily understood that for this reason to break off their course would mean more for them than for a not inconsiderable percentage of English undergraduates, and this, combined with other causes into which I need not enter, made a good many of them hesitate. However, they are responding in ever-increasing numbers. I give the figures from three large Universities as an illustration of what is being done.

Toronto, the largest University in Canada, has a total of 1616 on active service. Of these 25 are members of the Staff who are Graduates of other Universities, 916 are Graduates, including 56 members of the Staff, and 675 are Undergraduates. The number of the latter might increase considerably, and I am informed on good authority that it is likely to do so largely and rapidly.

McGill University, Montreal, shows a total of 1187 members who have responded to the call to service. Of

these 59 are members of the Staff, 666 Graduates, 350 Undergraduates, and 159 who have been members of the University without taking a degree. As 47 of these appear in more than one list, they are deducted, leaving the total as above.

The Registrar of Queen's University, Kingston, writes me that their returns are not yet complete. So far as they are compiled they show that there are 360 Undergraduates and 140 Graduates at the front. He does not mention the Staff, but it is within my personal knowledge that a large majority of the younger members are on active service.

Trinity College, Toronto, a Church of England residential college now affiliated to Toronto University, and probably the nearest approach in Canada to an Oxford or Cambridge College, has now as a rule about 120 Undergraduates, though in past years the number has been considerably less. Of its Graduates and Staff it has 101 at the front, together with 13 former students, who did not proceed to a degree. Of Undergraduates, 72 have already gone to the front, and others are going shortly, while there are scarcely any fresh entries, so that at the last meeting of Corporation the Provost stated that at the close of another year there would most probably be no Undergraduates at all. As I pointed out at the time, lack of students, which is usually a cause for despondency, is in this case a matter for congratulation, as it simply demonstrates the loyalty of Trinity Alumni, and of the class of young men who usually enter the College. I hear all the Church Colleges are very much depleted, one theological college having lost all its members already, and I believe that other religious bodies have a similar report to make.

The young men in the country districts were somewhat slow to come in at the beginning of hostilities, most of the recruiting being done in the towns.

But they are being aroused now, and will make splendid soldiers, as they are usually very fine specimens of humanity. It took a long time for the remote districts to realize that we were at war at all. In some places newspapers rarely come in, and there is not much time to read them when they do. But they know now, and are responding well. I have just heard that one of the northern villages in this diocese has raised upwards of sixty men. It is sixteen miles from a railway station, and a very scattered and thinly populated district, so that from what I know of it very nearly every young man available must have enlisted. Then another of our remote parishes, to get to which one has to drive twenty miles from the nearest station through the bush, over a road which, as I know to my cost, makes five miles an hour good traveling with a pair of horses, has contributed fourteen at the first time of asking, and will undoubtedly provide more. Other places are doing equally well.

It will be seen from the foregoing account that Young Canada is doing its duty in the present crisis. Some portions of her youth were naturally quicker to respond than others, but I think that none will be found wanting in the end. Canada has now set herself to raise 500,000 troops. She has about 220,000 under arms at the present moment, and with an evergrowing sense of the greatness of the issues involved, and of her own vital interest in the maintenance of the British Empire unimpaired, in addition to the ties of loyalty and affection that have always bound the Daughter to the Motherland, I feel sure that Canada will not appeal in vain to her young men to accomplish this glorious task. Edward J. Kingston. Bishop's Lodge, Kingston, Ontario, Canada, February 17, 1916.

Note. The figures in the above article are correct up to the end of 1915. They have probably increased considerably in each case since then.

A little crowd of French peasants at a wayside station some forty miles behind the fighting line is awaiting the arrival of the nightly train de santé with offerings of soup, wine, coffee, and fruit for the wounded. The great engine head-light draws slowly nearer, and the heavy train clinks and bumps to a standstill with its load of four or five hundred wounded. It is a "take-in night" at the Hospital of Arc-en-Barrois, not far from Verdun.

These trains are made up at Clermont, which is the clearing station for the wounded of the Army of the Argonne. Clermont itself is a heap of ruins-by a strange coincidence, or a miracle of marksmanship, almost the only house in it that remains standing is that in which Bismarck slept in 1870-but excellent temporary hospital buildings have been erected among the ruins, and here first treatment, bandaging and dressing and emergency surgery, is given, and the wounded are methodically allotted according to the nature of their wounds to the various hospitals in rear of the fighting line. The French arrangements for the care of the wounded have attained a high degree of efficiency, and the men reach their destinations with a minimum of discomfort and with everything done that it is possible to do to alleviate their sufferings. So the railway station on the night of the arrival of a batch of wounded is not a shambles, and the scene, though a pathetic, is not a ghastly one: many of the men are able to shift for themselves, to lean from the windows and hold out their tin cups for soup, and to exchange greetings with the crowd on the quais. But there is plenty of tragedy behind; often the officer in charge has told us of four or five deaths on the train tself.

While the stout Frenchwomen board the train with their offerings, half a dozen Englishmen in khaki tread their way through the crowd to where stretchers are being deposited on the platform; an English doctor with a lantern makes a preliminary inspection, and adjusts bandages, while two English ladies provide soup and cover the men with blankets against the night air. These "stretcher cases" are often tragic enough. The glistening eyes tell of fever; almost all are so weary that it is an effort to them to answer questions, some are rambling in their talk; often we get poor fellows who have lain out for days in the thick forest of the Argonne before they have been found; these men are terribly emaciated. Recently there have been several shocking cases of burns, most of which have ended fatally, but there seems to have been no use of asphyxiating gases; the character of the ground probably forbids it.

It does not take very long to place the stretchers in the gray ambulances with the red crosses that are waiting at the station entrance, while a few walking cases shuffle out with the aid of a friendly arm. Then a start is made and the cars glide away on their journey. Nine miles through the fragrant night, with the summer lightning carrying on a mimic warfare along the wide upland horizon, and the little town is reached in whose château a hundred or more French wounded lie under the care of English doctors and nurses.

Arc-en-Barrois stands back from the world, nestling in the valley of the little River Aujon, a tributary of the Aube, about equi-distant from Chaumont, Langres, and Châtillon. The geological formation is oolite, and the soil, except in the valley itself, is poor: in England it would be under sheep, but being in

France what is not included in the great stretches of forest is under the plough. Imagine the Cotswolds greatly magnified and clad with beech, oak, and hornbeam, with wide clearings of tillage, and you have something like the district of the Haute-Marne; even the houses are of the same apricot-colored stone and have the same gray-cold roofs. The forest is the glory of the district; it stretches for miles and miles to the horizon's bound; not the rambling goas-you-please woodlands with which we are familiar in England, but millions and millions of trees "trained to stand in rows and asking if they please," with an undergrowth of impenetrable brushwood worked on a regular thirty years' rotation for charcoal and firewood. Endless symmetrical glades of deepest green pierce the forest, and any day with luck you may see fallow or roe deer bound across these, or a wild sow and her litter shuffle and grunt across them: for game abounds here and war has given them a holiday as all firearms are now stored in the Hôtel de Ville and can only be got out with special permission: this and the fact that all sportsmen are wito the colors, has enabled the game to increase beyond the ordinary bounds-no very good thing for the crops, on which they are leaving their mark.

The wild flowers are glorious, as they always are on the oolite: in April the dogwood (cornus mas) is a wonderful sight, and in May the lilies of the valley spread themselves in fragrant sheets, with Solomon's seal, rare orchises, and yellow gentians four feet high. Birds too abound: kingfishers dart about the river bank; nightingales "mourn their sad song" of an evening; swifts in vast numbers cleave the air; the redstart is almost as common here as is the robin with us. Here in the forest flits the Purple Emperor, and the great SwallowTail frequents the lake in the park, while the dragon-flies of the river are worth

traveling to France to see. The river cuts right through the forest land with a narrow border of lush meadow. It is as blue as a salmon's scales, and deliciously sparkling and clear; celebrated also for the prodigious quantity of fine trout that it provides: they run to two and three pounds and their number is unlimited: the whole neighborhood lives upon them, and excellent they are. With the magnificent asparagus of the country and the truffles which the forest affords, the essentials of good living are to hand: and cheap living too, in spite of war prices: for the sum of three francs you can procure at any of the three little hotels a better dinner than you have often paid a guinea for.

The little valley widens out, and at the place where it is crossed by the Roman road lies the little town of Arc. Here for centuries there has been a château, and for a long period the domain has been in the possession of the House of Orleans, who erected, about a hundred years ago, the present magnificent building in the style of Louis XIV. It stands with its parks and garden on the one side and the town and parish church close against it on the other. The little river waters the park and spills itself by weirs and millsluices through the town. Arc is a gem of towns: there is scarcely a modern house in it and no modern street. A number of buildings dating about 1815 suggest that it did not wholly escape in the invasion of 1814. But, on the whole, war must have passed it by. It came very near in 1870, as it did in 1914, when Uhlans were at least reported in the forest, and the good citizens providently set to work to bury their wine in their gardens. Arc possesses one magnificent old pilastered house of the period of Henry II, and there are many quaint and delightful sixteenth and seventeenth century houses, whose fronts curve sympathetically with the curving streets, and

which have fine dormers and gargoyles. Here is an ancient inn with cavernous stables and coach-houses opening off its galleried yard, now the cellars of a marchand de vins en gros; here is a hospice, once the home of a religious foundation, till last year, since their departure, deserted, now a convalescent home for soldiers discharged from the château, which, by the generosity of its owner, the Duc de Penthièvre, has become the hospital already referred to.

The establishment of such a hospital was a bold experiment: it is not easy to imagine the appearance in an English country town of a French hospital for English wounded: such an institution would, I fear, be viewed with considerable suspicion. It has been quite other. wise in France, where the gracious sense of hospitality is strong, and where the gravity of the present crisis and the warmth of feeling towards her ally have quite outweighed any feelings of false pride that might have existed. Certainly, from the moment of its first arrival, the hospital in question has met with nothing but kindness and appreciation from the little town and surrounding district, from the French military authorities, and from the patients themselves. The farmers and peasants are constantly sending gifts of farm produce and country delicacies; the curés of the neighboring parishes organize collections, and often one of the hospital ambulances may be seen returning laden with vegetables, eggs, butter, and fruit, the result of such a collection. We get small local contributions in money too, and not the least valued of the entries in our subscription list are sums of a few sous subscribed weekly by quite poor working people. As for the military authorities, they have been admirably prompt in attending to our manifold requests. We are periodically inspected by a French officer, and receive also many visits of courtesy and interest from

officers stationed in the neighborhood.

Finally, the patients themselves have shown their appreciation in the most welcome way, by the rapidity with which they have accommodated themselves to surroundings which, in the nature of things, were bound to be strange, and by an altogether delightful frankness and absence of reserve which has enormously helped us in the performance of our task. They have been so generously confiding, have taken us in such excellent part, have been always so ready to turn to a joke the little difficulties of language, are so genuinely interested in us-witness a whole pile of delightful letters which have reached me since I came home on holiday-and so touchingly certain that we are doing our best for them. It may have been natural politeness, but I have often heard men say how pleased they were to be in an English hospital. Of course we have done our best, not only to save life and limb and to ease suffering, but also to put them at their ease; but it has been their own good feeling, their blitheness, playfulness, and unfailing sense of fun that have made it possible to say that in spite of the fact that they are in the hands of foreigners, none of them have felt in the least dépaysé. Their sense of humor has been more valuable to the French in the present crisis than legions of doctors and nurses.

Any Englishman working for French wounded has remarkable opportunities for studying the character of the French soldier. Small, wiry men for the most part, who give but little trouble to stretcher-bearers, they leave the impression of lissomeness rather than of strength. We have hardly seen a man of six feet and few that weighed more than twelve stone. They come from every part of France: here is a young fellow whose fair hair and blue eyes might belong to a Sussex laborer. This type is uncommon, and I certainly think that not more than half a dozen