ight, seems a contradiction in terms. How
could troops, it may be asked, who so seldom infringed the
regulations be other than well-disciplined? For the simple reason
that discipline in quarters is an absolutely different quality from
discipline in battle. No large body of intelligent men, assembled in
a just cause and of good character, is likely to break out into
excesses, or, if obedience is manifestly necessary, to rebel against
authority. Subordination to the law is the distinguishing mark of all
civilised society. But such subordination, however praiseworthy, is
not the discipline of the soldier, though it is often confounded with
it. A regiment of volunteers, billeted in some country town, would
probably show a smaller list of misdemeanours than a regiment of
regulars. Yet the latter might be exceedingly well-disciplined, and
the former have no real discipline whatever. Self-respect--for that
is the discipline of the volunteer--is not battle discipline, the
discipline of the cloth, of habit, of tradition, of constant
association and of mutual confidence. Self-respect, excellent in
itself, and by no means unknown amongst regular soldiers, does not
carry with it a mechanical obedience to command, nor does it merge
the individual in the mass, and give the tremendous power of unity to
the efforts of large numbers.

It will not be pretended that the discipline of regular troops always
rises superior to privation and defeat. It is a notorious fact that
the number of deserters from Wellington's army in Spain and Portugal,
men who wilfully absented themselves from the colours and wandered
over the country, was by no means inconsiderable; while the behaviour
of the French regulars in 1870, and even of the Germans, when they
rushed back in panic through the village of Gravelotte, deaf to the
threats and entreaties of their aged sovereign, was hardly in
accordance with military tradition. Nevertheless, it is not difficult
to show that the Southerners fell somewhat short of the highest
standard. They were certainly not incapable of keeping their ranks
under a hot fire, or of holding their ground to the last extremity.
Pickett's charge at Gettysburg is one of the most splendid examples
of disciplined valour in the annals of war, and the endurance of
Lee's army at Sharpsburg has seldom been surpassed. Nor was the
disorder into which the attacking lines were sooner or later thrown a
proof of inferior training. Even in the days