rty-eight are between twenty and
thirty years of age, ten between thirty and forty, and two between forty
and forty-five. Five were born in England, three in Scotland, twenty-one
in Ireland, five in Germany, thirteen in the United States, two in
Prussia, and one in Italy. They subscribed, at the time of enlistment,
the following trades: five farmers, one spinner, twelve laborers, one
weaver, one tinsmith, one painter, two gardeners, three bakers, two
shoemakers, two tailors, one carpenter, one printer, one cigar-maker,
nine soldiers, four clerks, one turner, and one figure-maker (the
Italian); and one pretends to be a lawyer, though, as he may be an
imposter, we will have due regard for the sensitive feelings of our
legal friends, and set him down as only a pettifogger. Sixteen cannot
read or write, and of these, three are of the United States, and the
remainder nearly all from Ireland. It is quite a treat in chirography to
see the signatures of the residue of the fifty, as they stand in the
column. They are not so imposing as John Hancock's on the Declaration,
nor as small as a schoolmistress's copy; but assume all shapes and
styles, from the "clerkly fist," to the genuine "crow-track," or Chinese
characters on a tea-chest.

Be it as it may, after he swears to serve well and faithfully the United
States against all her enemies and opposers whatsoever, he is sent to
New-York harbor, if he is to do foot-work, or to Carlisle Barracks, if a
horse is to do it for him; and in one of these places the transformation
from civil to military life begins. In two hours after his arrival you
would hardly know him. With hair cut close, and a complete revolution in
his dress, he looks nothing like the "sovereign" of this mighty Republic
you have just seen. He feels the change, too; and as he struts up and
down, peacock-like, admiring himself, he realizes that hitherto, for
many years perhaps, he has not had a new suit from tip to toe all for
nothing. It has saved him weary days of toil, and the little personal
liberty he has given in exchange is but dust in the balance. As soon as
"the vapors melt into morn," the drum sounds the _reveille_, and up he
rises to receive instructions, which are repeated and repeated until he
has them at his tongue's and fingers' ends. At all times, if
well-behaved, he receives the necessary recreations and indulgences. To
follow him closely throughout his tuition, would be to extend this
article more than