Badakhshan and Vakhan-has been organised, which may, for a time at any rate, very seriously cripple the Afghan power to the north of the Hindú-kush. Abdur-Rahman Khan, again, that storm-bird of Afghan diplomacy, is still held in reserve at Samarcand, ready to swoop on Turkestán whenever his Russian friends may give the signal; and a new aspirant for power, Iskender Khan, who represents the Herat branch of the Baruckzye governing family-being the eldest surviving son of the well-known Sultan Ahmed Khan-and who served for some years with distinction in the Russian army, has now appeared upon the scene, having been placed by the Persian Government in a military command upon the frontier, where he may prove a troublesome neighbour to Yacúb Khan and his officers. With the evidence before us of these elements of mischief available for the disturbance of the Afghan settlement, and with the knowledge that any such disturbance must react upon our immediate frontier, we cannot too closely watch the progress of Lazareff's columns to the eastward. It is true that the Russian Government has formally disavowed the intention of attempting the present conquest of Merv; but this disavowal goes a very little way in reassuring us as to the harmlessness of the pending expedition. If Herat be the destination of the troops, Merv is entirely off the line of march, and would only be attacked in case of serious molestation from the Tekehs; but in all probability neither Herat nor Merv is immediately threatened. There are many indications to show that the point at which the campaign of the present year will be brought to a close will be either Deregez or Abiverd, where the Akhal settlements terminate, and before the Tekeh country is entered. This would be a very convenient centre from which to conduct negotiations with Merv upon one side, and with the Khorassán Government upon the other, while from the same point communications might also be opened up with Khiva across the desert, and a direct pressure might further be exerted on Herat and the tribes in the neighbourhood.

And under such circumstances-that is, supposing a large Russian force to be encamped at Abiverd (which is naturally the most fertile district of the 'Attock,' though ruined at present and almost uninhabited, owing to the depredations of the Tekehs), and supposing that this force, which would immediately threaten Merv, were in uninterrupted communication on one side with its base upon the Caspian, and on the other with the Russian settlements on the Oxus-what would be the proper policy for the British Government to pursue? It may be presumed that Russia could not have attained such a position without having encountered energetic protests both from England and Persia: from England, because we have already placed on record the strongest remonstrances against a Russian occupation of Merv, and, as far as Indian interests are concerned, all the arguments against the conquest

of Merv by a foreign Power apply in a still stronger degree to Abiverd; from Persia, for two reasons: first, because the Shah has always asserted, and sometimes realised, a territorial right to the Merv district-a Persian army, indeed, having captured the city and surrounding country in 1860, though subsequently compelled, through military misconduct, to retire; and secondly, because Abiverd is an undisputed dependency of Kelat-i-Nadir, and its invasion by Russia must be held to constitute a gross violation of territory. But would such a violation be declared a casus belli by the Shah, and would Great Britain be prepared to take up arms in support of her Persian ally? These are grave questions, which I do not venture to answer. The interests concerned are no doubt of the largest character. Russia has already made, and is still making, the most strenuous efforts to draw Persia to her side, either by fair means or foul. A venal Court has been for the most part secured in her interest; her officers are gaining influence and authority with the regular Persian army; the Shah's personal feelings have been powerfully wrought upon; it is now probable that pressure, and a pressure of the most urgent and persistent kind, will be applied. Unaided, it seems to me that Persia must inevitably yield; but if she does yield, what is it we have to expect? An argument has been brought forward in influential quarters, that the Afghan settlement must be held to have dissipated all danger; that alarms at the advance of Russia are now vain alarms; that even if Merv were taken, and Russia and Persia combined threatened the Afghan border, the British-Indian Government, secure in Yacúb Khan's fidelity, and in his maintenance of the frontier fortresses, of Herat and Mymeneh especially, might laugh at the machinations of its enemies and defy their efforts to annoy us. There is much of fallacy, I believe, in this argument. The Afghan settlement is a very good settlement as far as it goes, but it is not immaculate—it is not complete. To yield to us its full measure of defence, the treaty must be supplemented by all legitimate precautions and supports. Persia must be detached from Russia coûte que coûte. Russia herself must not be left in any uncertainty as to our intentions. She must be made to understand, while there is yet time for her to modify her aggressive preparations, that she will not be permitted unopposed to establish herself in strength upon the Afghan frontier, either at Merv, or at Serakhs, or even at Abiverd, nor to recommence intrigues against the British power in India. She might, indeed, be warned that, if necessary, we were prepared in self-defence to support the Turcomans-with whom she has no legitimate quarrel-with arms and money, or even to turn the tables on her by encouraging the efforts of the Uzbegs to recover their liberty. Above all, at the present time, we must show ourselves strong upon the threatened frontier, and equal to any emergency. It would be almost fatuity at such a moment to withdraw our garrison from Candahar. Yacúb

Khan must be made to see that it is as much for his interest as our own to hold an efficient body of British troops in such a position that, on the approach of danger, and without any semblance or suspicion of interference with Afghan rights, they might, with military alacrity, occupy Herat as an auxiliary garrison.

I cannot doubt that we are fully able to hold our own in the East, as well as in the West. All that is required is that we should assume the firm attitude and the bold language of conscious strength and of conscious right.

H. C. RAWLINSON.

THE

NINETEENTH

CENTURY.

No. XXXI.-SEPTEMBER 1879.

RECREATION.1

In all places of the civilised world, and in all classes of the civilised community, the struggle for existence is now more keen than ever it has been during the history of our race. Everywhere men, and women, and children are living at a pressure positively frightful to contemplate. Amid the swarming bustle of our smoke-smothered towns surrounded by their zone of poisoned trees, amid the whirling roar of machinery, the scorching blast of furnaces, and in the tallow-lighted blackness of our mines-everywhere, over all the length and breadth of this teeming land, men, and women, and children, in no metaphor, but in cruel truth, are struggling for life. Even our smiling landscapes support as the sons of their soil a new generation, to whom the freedom of gladness is a tradition of the past, and on whose brows is stamped, not only the print of honest work, but a new and sadding mark-the brand of sickening care. Or if we look to our universities and schools, to our professional men and men of business, we see this same fierce battle rage-ruined health and shattered hopes, tearful lives and early deaths being everywhere the bitter lot of millions who toil, and strive, and love, and bleed their young hearts' blood in sorrow. In such a world and at such a time, when more truly than ever it may be said that the whole creation groans in pain and travail, I do not know that for the purposes of health and happiness there is any subject which it is more desirable that persons

Expanded from notes of a Lecture delivered before the National Health Society. VOL. VI.-No. 31.

EE

of all classes should understand than the philosophical theory and the rational practice of recreation. For recreation is the great relief from the pressure of life-the breathing space in the daily struggle for existence, without which no one of the combatants could long survive; and therefore it becomes of the first importance that the science and the philosophy of such relief should be generally known. No doubt it is true that people will always be compelled to take recreation and to profit by its use, whether or not they are acquainted with its science and its philosophy; but there can be equally little doubt that here, as elsewhere, an intelligent understanding of abstract principles as well as of practical applications will insure more use and less abuse of the thing which is thus intelligently understood.

With a view, then, of obtaining some such intelligent understanding of recreation, let us begin by clearly understanding what recreation means. First of all, the mere word, like many of our other English words that signify abstractions, condenses much philosophy within itself. For as 'creation' means a forming, 're-creation' means a forming anew; and as in etymological derivation so in actual truth re-creation is nothing other than a re-novation of the vital energies; leisure time and appropriate employment serve to repair the organic machinery which has been impaired by the excess of work. The literal meaning of the word is therefore in itself instructive, as showing that what our forefathers saw in recreation was not so much play, pastime, or pleasantry, as the restoration of enfeebled powers of work. And I do not know that within the limits of one word they could have left us a legacy of thought more true in itself or more solemn in its admonition. Recreation is, or ought to be, not a pastime entered upon for the sake of the pleasure which it affords, but an act of duty undertaken for the sake of the subsequent power which it generates, and the subsequent profit which it insures. Therefore, expanding the philosophy which is thus condensed in our English word, we may define recreation as that which with the least expenditure of time renders the exhausted energies most fitted to resume their work. Such is my definition of recreation; yet I know that many things are called by this name which cannot possibly fall within this definition, and I doubt whether nine persons out of ten ever dreamed either of attaching such a meaning to the word, or of applying such a principle to the thing. Nevertheless I also know that in whatever degree so-called recreation fails to be covered by this definition, in that degree does it fail, properly speaking, to be recreation at all. It may be amusement, fun, or even profitable employment; but it is not that particular thing which it is the object of this paper to consider. Therefore the definition which I have laid down may be taken as a practical test of recreation as genuine or spurious. If recreation is of a kind that renders a man less fitted for work thap would some other kind