This year the Americans paid me the compliment of making me an honorary member of the 22nd Regiment, with rank corresponding to my own actual rank in the English volunteers. But beyond attending a couple of balls and some competition drills in the uniform of the regiment I had never time enough to profit by the privileges extended to me in so friendly a manner. I must not forget among my volunteering reminiscences a rather dramatic incident which occurred at Her Majesty's Theatre in the year 1860, when I had just joined the Honorable Artillery Company, and, as yet but little instructed in the mysteries of drill, was anxious to qualify myself as soon as possible for admission into line. With this view I spent every spare moment in practice, sometimes with the Scots Guards at St. George's Barracks, Trafalgar Square, and often in the evening, when some operatic representation was actually going on, at Her Majesty's Theatre, where I utilized the services of the guard of honour in attendance. The first time I carried out what had struck me as rather a happy idea I was putting the squad of guardsmen through the bayonet exercise in the Ballet practice room. I had just given the orders, "Advance, advance, point!" when the door opened, and Lewis, the treasurer, appeared, bearing in his hand a bag which held the receipts of the evening. The word "point!" brought the bayonets of the guardsmen almost into contact with the breast of the startled official, who, uttering a shriek and dropping the money-bags, turned and fled. So scared was he that not until some time afterwards did he quite recover himself. Had he fancied in his terror that the guard had suddenly invaded the theatre and prepared an ambuscade in order to rob the treasurer of the night's receipts? He could give no explanation on the subject. The sight of the red-coats, the authoritative cry of "Point!" and the rapid presentation of the bayonets, which all but pierced him, had the effect of depriving him for a time of his wits. No other account could poor Lewis give of the matter. In these degenerate times it is considered enough at one of the Royal Theatres to station outside during the performance a sergeant's guard; and Mr. Augustus Harris is modest enough to consider a corporal's guard sufficient. In former days, however, Her Majesty's Theatre was almost always during a performance under the care of a captain's guard, the officers being provided for inside, where the captain, the lieutenant, and the ensign occupied stalls one, two, and three, specially reserved for them. Three other stalls used, at this time, to be reserved for the Captain of the Body-Guard, the Exon in Waiting, and the Clerk of the Cheque. To show that my military studies and military labours of the last twenty-eight years have not been altogether in vain, I may here append a few letters from various commanding officers and adjutants with whom I have at various times done duty.