slow to think for himself, but he is genuinely anxious to kill,
and a little punishment teaches him how to guard his own skin and
perforate another's. A powerfully prayerful Highland Regiment,
officered by rank Presbyterians, is, perhaps, one degree more
terrible in action than a hard-bitten thousand of irresponsible
Irish ruffians led by most improper young unbelievers. But these
things prove the rule - which is that the midway men are not to be
trusted alone. They have ideas about the value of life and an
upbringing that has not taught them to go on and take the chances.
They are carefully unprovided with a backing of comrades who have
been shot over, and until that backing is re-introduced, as a
great many Regimental Commanders intend it shall be, they are more
liable to disgrace themselves than the size of the Empire or the
dignity of the Army allows. Their officers are as good as good can
be, because their training begins early, and God has arranged that
a clean-run youth of the British middle classes shall, in the
matter of backbone, brains, and bowels, surpass all other youths.
For this reason a child of eighteen will stand up, doing nothing,
with a tin sword in his hand and joy in his heart until he is
dropped. If he dies, he dies like a gentleman. If he lives, he
writes Home that he has been "potted," "sniped," "chipped," or
"cut over," and sits down to besiege Government for a wound-
gratuity until the next little war breaks out, when he perjures
himself before a Medical Board, blarneys his Colonel, burns
incense round his Adjutant, and is allowed to go to the Front once
more.

Which homily brings me directly to a brace of the most finished
little fiends that ever banged drum or tootled fife in the Band of
a British Regiment. They ended their sinful career by open and