matic handling to be smoothed out of existence. With all his admirable and gallant qualities, too much leisure did not suit one who has been called "a kind of destroying angel, with a limited income, and a turn for politics!"

It was lamentable, for instance, that Cochrane should have fallen foul of San Martin. But, in any case, the policy and temperaments of the two great men were diametrically opposed. San Martin-whose valor was blended with a shrewd and calculating caution of a Scottish type-was more than once content to hold back his arm and to let the forces of nature work irresistibly in his favor. Cochrane, on the other hand-with a fire and impatience that was essentially Latin!-became chafed into a frenzy of irritation at a policy of impassivity which was entirely foreign to his nature. Hence a mutual distrust, and, only too often, a bitter correspondence. Hence, too, an infinity of worries to the wise friend of both, Bernardo O'Higgins, whose part it frequently was to pour balm on the troubled spirits.

When Lord Cochrane sailed out to Chile it had been his intention to remain there for the rest of his life. To this end he had brought out with him agricultural implements, seeds, and other objects. He also brought out his charming wife and his young son.

Of the innumerable, and well known, incidents which might be repeated here did space permit is the one which has this boy Tom-then a youngster of ten-for a hero, when, his face covered with the brains of a marine killed by a cannon ball, he tranquilly assured his father in the midst of a naval engagement, "Indeed, Papa, the shot did not touch me; indeed, I am not hurt." But to attempt to dive into the too great sea of such anecdotes would be to get out of one's depth immediately.

As a hostess Lady Cochrane's success was immediate and great in a land famous for the fascination of its women. Lady Cochrane's popularity, moreover, was not confined to the upper classes. Here is an episode, told

by John Miller, which occurred during Colonel (afterwards General) Miller's stay at Huacho:

"On the day after his arrival there, and whilst he was inspecting the detachments in the Plaza, Lady Cochrane galloped on to the parade to speak to him (Miller). The sudden appearance of youth and beauty, on a fiery horse, managed with skill and elegance, absolutely electrified the men, who had never before seen an English lady: 'Que hermosa!' 'Que graciosa!' 'Que linda!' 'Que guapa!' 'Que airosa! es un angel del cielo!' were exclamations that escaped from one end of the line to the other. The lieutenant-colonel, not displeased at this involuntary homage, paid to the beauty of a country-woman, said to the men, 'This is our Generala.' Her ladyship turned her sparkling eyes toward the line, and bowed graciously. The troops could no longer confine their expressions of admiration to half-suppressed interjections; loud vivas burst from officers as well as men. Lady Cochrane smiled her acknowledgments, and cantered off the ground with the grace of a fairy."

In such delightful company as that of Lady Cochrane we may well leave her gallant husband for a time.

William Miller, who was born in 1795, had seen a considerable amount of service with the British army in the Peninsula and in North America, and had traveled Europe rather extensively in a private capacity, before he sailed for Buenos Aires in 1817 in order to take up arms in the cause of South American freedom. He chose the South of the continent in preference to Colombia for the reason that the former as yet was almost unvisited by the foreign soldiers as well as mere adventurers who had flocked in great numbers to the latter country.

Once landed on the rich alluvial soil of Buenos Aires, he found himself in the midst of a community of his own compatriots who had already firmly established themselves in that budding city. Although strongly tempted by the lucrative commercial vista which was already re

vealing itself in that spot, he determined to persist in his chosen career of the sword. His closest friends in Buenos Aires appear to have been people of the name of Mackinlay, and a Mr. Dickinson, who presented him to Pueyrredon, the supreme director of the new republic.

As a result of this he received in due course a captain's commission in the army of the Andes which, commanded by the famous Argentine general, San Martin, was then in Chile. Before this, however, he had ridden for long distances over the pampa, and had obtained considerable experiences of the life of the plains. It was there that he learned the ways of the Gaucho children of the prairies, and watched them in their every-day tasks when they galloped to "round up" the cattle, or, having lassoed and slain one of the herd, would roast its carcase above the wood fire that blazed amid the green grasses and scarlet verbena of the pampa, and, having cut away long strips of the cooked flesh, would place the ends in their mouths, and would slice the pieces clear from the main strip by slashes of their long knives.

He would see them, too, in their festal lace and silver, thrumming their guitars to love songs or chanted epics, when a single mocking word would send the great swordknife whipping out from its sheath, and the poncho would go curling rapidly round the left arm of each antagonist as a shield. Undoubtedly he learned much in these first weeks of his in South America which was of great use to him in his subsequent campaigns. He learned much, too, from his hospitable Argentine hosts, and galloped after deer and ostrich, and shot duck, partridge, pigeon, and quail to his heart's content.

Occasionally, of course, he met with that rough-andready criticism such as the raw Gringo must expect at the hands of the hardened rider of the plains. Thus, on his way across the plains to the Andes, having refused the offer of a cigarette, he had to submit with what grace he could to his postilion's audible verdict on himself as

given to the postilion of the next stage. It was curt, but eloquently pitying, "He knows nothing-can't even smoke!" At Mendoza, that pleasant town in the shadow of the great Andes, famous for its poplars, vineyards, and peach groves that abound on the banks of its irrigating streams, Miller saw much of the local society. A genial man of the world, the Argentines found him simpatico, and took him without reserve into their hearts. Thus he was enabled to take part in the evening parties, the Tertulias, of the place, and to admire the infinite grace of the daylight minuets, walked on plain earthen floors by the men of Mendoza and the ladies, these latter frequently attired in a riding habit, a long whip in their hand.

Miller, having crossed the Andes by the pass of Uspallata-until quite recent years a feat much easier to describe than perform―joined his regiment, the Buenos Aires artillery. From the very first moment he appears to have got on well with his fellow officers-a gallant, but curiously heterogeneous set of men. Miller has left a record of some of these, and it is sufficiently instructive. There was Francisco Dias, a most polished ex-officer of the Spanish navy, who spoke English fluently, and was familiar with French literature. There was Juan Apostol Martinez, a very cheerful and most ridiculously eccentric captain, who hated Spaniards and priests to such a degree that he played every conceivable prank on these whenever the opportunity offered, and even fought three duels with Dias on this account. There was a Frenchman who had been educated at the école polytechnique at Paris, and who had afterwards been page to King Jerome Bonaparte; there was Beltran, a monk who had unfrocked himself to fight in the cause of South American independence, and who proved himself a gallant officer; and there was the adjutant, Talmayancu, an educated and lively Araucanian Indian, who was fond of playing practical jokes on the sentries at night!

Surely these suffice to prove the extraordinarily mixed composition of the corps! As to the others, let Miller's testimony be given in his own words: "There were some very fine young men amongst the other officers of the corps, and all were extremely obliging. Most of them played on the guitar, or sang, and good fellowship reigned throughout the camp.'

Having once become thoroughly at home among these new comrades of his, Miller, having obtained leave, rode down to the port of Valparaiso, where he was delighted to see the white ensign floating over the waters of the Pacific. Here he was most cordially received by Commodore Bowles on board H.M.S. Amphion. Thus we find him established on the Pacific slope where he was destined to win fame and honor. It is impossible, of course, to give more than the merest outline of his career here.

Of its more salient features it may be said that Miller was fortunate enough to distinguish himself in the first important encounter with the royalist forces, and in this action, heroically assisted by Ensign Moreno, he saved two of the guns of the Buenos Aires artillery. Shortly after this he was detached with a company of infantry to act as marines on board the newly purchased old EastIndiaman of 800 tons, the Wyndham, now known as the Lautaro frigate in the Chilean service.

The Lautaro may serve as a typical specimen of the material out of which the young Chilean navy was being forged at that time. Here, then, is the ship's company of the frigate Lautaro of the young Chilean navy. Her officers were for the most part British. Her commander was Captain O'Brien, formerly a lieutenant in the British navy, in which service he had already distinguished himself in the action which ended in the capture of the United States frigate Essex.

O'Brien was one of the most gallant officers who ever trod a warship, to say nothing of the deck of an old EastIndiaman converted into a frigate! He died in the