A LESSON LEARNED.
BY LORD STANLEY.
This war, with the opportunity it has offered to all branches of the service to see how the military machinery works when running at high pressure, must teach not only those who are out here superintending and running the machine, but also those at home who are paying for its running, many a useful lesson.
That the machine has worked smoothly nobody for one minute will assert—but it certainly has run sufficiently smoothly to show that, with some alteration which experience alone could suggest to be desirable, our military engine may very easily be made as perfect as those of the Continental Powers are popularly supposed to be.
But it is not our intention to show what failings have been discovered, and what lessons in manœuvring—in transport—in equipment—are required to be learned. Our object to-day is to congratulate ourselves that one lesson at least which had to be learned has been partially learned—and that is that England must look not to one class or two classes of men for her soldiers and sailors, but must be able to draw upon all sorts and conditions of men, the rich alike with the poor, when she has to defend her honour at home or abroad.
The first part of the lesson has been learned, and men of all ranks in life are vying with each other in their desire to serve their country in any capacity, however humble. This is good, but the lesson has not been entirely taken to heart yet. It will not do for England to have to wait for an hour of danger before these men come to the front. They must always be there at hand when required, and it behoves the Government at home to so legislate as to make permanent in the ranks of our army those classes of men who are now in it temporarily.
Conscription may be a nasty pill for some to swallow. But what is in a name? Let us call it universal service, and let us ask our fellow countrymen at home to be prepared to emulate the example of those who are on service here and to be ready at all times and in all places to guard and defend the national flag—the symbol of British prestige and integrity.
POOR OLD CRONJE.
Driven from pillar to post,
Battered with shot and shell,
Knowing full well his cause was lost,
When the last of his burghers fell.
Surrounded on every hand,
He and his Army lay,
Determined to make a final stand,
Like a wounded stag at bay.