inarticulate hearts, that the supreme British virtue--the
virtue of holding on, and holding on, and holding on, until our end is
accomplished--may not be found wanting in a single one of us.

To take a last survey of the regiment which we have created--one
little drop in the incredible wave which has rolled with gathering
strength from, end to end of this island of ours during the past
six months, and now hangs ready to crash upon the gates of our
enemies--what manner of man has it produced? What is he like, this
impromptu Thomas Atkins?

Well, when he joined, his outstanding feature was a sort of surly
independence, the surliness being largely based upon the fear of losing
the independence. He has got over that now. He is no longer morbidly
sensitive about his rights as a free and independent citizen and the
backbone of the British electorate. He has bigger things to think of. He
no longer regards sergeants as upstart slave-drivers--frequently he is a
sergeant himself--nor officers as grinding capitalists. He is undergoing
the experience of the rivets in Mr. Kipling's story of "The Ship that
Found Herself." He is adjusting his perspectives. He is beginning to
merge himself in the Regiment.

He no longer gets drunk from habit. When he does so now, it is because
there were no potatoes at dinner, or because there has been a leak
in the roof of his hut for a week and no one is attending to it, or
because his wife is not receiving her separation allowance. Being an
inarticulate person, he finds getting drunk the simplest and most
effective expedient for acquainting the powers that be with the fact
that he has a grievance. Formerly, the morning list of "drunks" merely
reflected the nearness or remoteness of payday. Now, it is a most
reliable and invaluable barometer of the regimental atmosphere.

He has developed--quite spontaneously, for he has had few
opportunities for imitation--many of the characteristics of the
regular soldier. He is quick to discover himself aggrieved, but is
readily appeased if he feels that his officer is really doing his best
for him, and that both of them are the victims of a higher power. On
the other hand, he is often amazingly cheerful under uncomfortable and
depressing surroundings. He is growing quite fastidious, too, about
his personal appearance when off duty. (You should see our quiffs
on Saturdays!) He is quite incapable of keeping possession of his
clothing, his boots, his rifle, his