d--upon a spot stained with English blood. The polite skipper,
who had carried me across the Atlantic, landed me in his gig. I was
curious to examine the field of this decisive action; for at that period
of my life I had an inclination for martial affairs. But something more
than mere curiosity prompted me to visit the battle-ground of New
Orleans. I then held an opinion deemed heterodox--namely, that the
_improvised_ soldier is under certain circumstances quite equal to the
professional hireling, and that long military drill is not essential to
victory. The story of war, superficially studied, would seem to
antagonise this theory, which conflicts also with the testimony of all
military men. But the testimony of mere military men on such a matter
is without value. Who ever heard of a military man who did not desire
to have his art considered as mythical as possible? Moreover, the
rulers of the world have spared no pains to imbue their people with
false ideas upon this point. It is necessary to put forward some excuse
for that terrible incubus upon the nations, the "standing army."

My desire to view the battle-ground upon the banks of the Mississippi
had chiefly reference to this question. The action itself had been one
of my strong arguments in favour of my belief; for upon this spot some
six thousand men--who had never heard the absurd command, "Eyes
right!"--out-generalled, "whipped," in fact nearly annihilated, a
well-equipped and veteran army of twice their number!

Since standing upon that battle-ground I have carried a sword in more
than one field of action. What I then held only as a theory, I have
since proved as an experience. The "drill" is a delusion. The standing
army a cheat.

In another hour I was wandering through the streets of the Crescent
City, no longer thinking of military affairs. My reflections were
turned into a far different channel. The social life of the New-World,
with all its freshness and vigour, was moving before my eyes, like a
panorama; and despite of my assumption of the _nil admirari_, I could
not help _wondering as I went_.

And one of my earliest surprises--one that met me on the very threshold
of Transatlantic existence--was the discovery of my own utter
uselessness. I could point to my desk and say, "There lie the proofs of
my erudition--the highest prizes of my college class." But of what use
they? The dry theories I had been taught had no application to the