o not seem to be actors at all. This is the ideal after which the rest
are striving. It is one very rarely attained.

Three principal influences combine to assist men in their attempts:
preparation, vanity and sentiment. The first includes all the force
of discipline and training. The soldier has for years contemplated the
possibility of being under fire. He has wondered vaguely what kind of
an experience it would be. He has seen many who have gone through it and
returned safely. His curiosity is excited. Presently comes the occasion.
By road and railway he approaches daily nearer to the scene. His
mind becomes familiar with the prospect. His comrades are in the same
situation. Habit, behind which force of circumstances is concealed,
makes him conform. At length the hour arrives. He observes the darting
puffs of smoke in the distance. He listens to the sounds that are in the
air. Perhaps he hears something strike with a thud and sees a soldier
near him collapse like a shot pheasant. He realises that it may be his
turn next. Fear grips him by the throat.

Then vanity, the vice which promotes so many virtues, asserts itself.
He looks at his comrades and they at him. So far he has shown no sign of
weakness. He thinks, they are thinking him brave. The dearly longed-for
reputation glitters before his eyes. He executes the orders he receives.

But something else is needed to made a hero. Some other influence must
help him through the harder trials and more severe ordeals which may
befall him. It is sentiment which makes the difference in the end. Those
who doubt should stroll to the camp fire one night and listen to the
soldiers' songs. Every one clings to something that he thinks is high
and noble, or that raises him above the rest of the world in the hour of
need. Perhaps he remembers that he is sprung from an ancient stock,
and of a race that has always known how to die; or more probably it
is something smaller and more intimate; the regiment, whatever it is
called--"The Gordons," "The Buffs," "The Queen's,"--and so nursing the
name--only the unofficial name of an infantry battalion after all--he
accomplishes great things and maintains the honour and the Empire of the
British people.

It may be worth while, in the matter of names, to observe the advantages
to a regiment of a monosyllabic appellation. Every one will remember
Lieut.-Colonel Mathias' speech to the Gordons. Imagine for a moment that
speech addressed to some