these days I have been conscious, in the responsible men I have been
meeting, of ideals of which no one talks, except when, on very rare
occasions, it happens to be in the day's work like anything else to talk
of ideals--but which are, in fact, omnipresent.

I find, for instance, among my War Office Notes, a short address given
in the ordinary course of duty by an unnamed commandant to his
officer-cadets. It appears here, in its natural place, just as part of
the whole; revealing for a moment the thoughts which constantly
underlie it.

"Believe me when I tell you that I have never found an officer who
worked who did not come through. Only ill-health and death stand in your
way. The former you can guard against in a great measure. The latter
comes to us all, and for a soldier, a soldier's death is the finest of
all. Fear of death does not exist for the man who has led a good and
honest life. You must discipline your bodies and your minds--your bodies
by keeping them healthy and strong, your minds by prayer and thought."

As to the relation between officers and men, that also is not talked
about much, except in its more practical and workaday aspects--the
interest taken by officers in the men's comfort and welfare, their
readiness to share in the men's games and amusements, and so on. And no
one pretends that the whole British Army is an army of "plaster saints,"
that every officer is the "little father" of his men, and all
relations ideal.

But what becomes evident, as one penetrates a little nearer to the great
organism, is a sense of passionate responsibility in all the finer minds
of the Army towards their men, a readiness to make any sacrifice for