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XXVIII.

AN OPTICAL DELUSION.

In return for their hospitality the Adjutant-General presented to the Artists' Volunteer Corps a picture of the British Army. It was an agreeable, indeed, a startling surprise. You think you have no army,' said he. 'Look here!' And behold, to their enchanted and confounded eyes was offered a picture of the finest army in the world! We had begun to despair of the army. We thought there was no hope; but we were wrong. After all, there is balm in Gilead-there is a physician there.' This is a season of strange atmospheric effects, of blue moons, and other optical delusions; but none of them in any degree approach the optical delusion that surrounds the British army. You go to Woolwich, or Portsmouth, or Aldershot, and you see what appear to you skeleton battalions, and a young and puny rank and file; but you are mistaken, absolutely and entirely mistaken. It is simply an optical delusion. What appear to you skeleton battalions are indeed splendid regiments, complete to the last button: and the young and puny rank and file are, in fact, the finest soldiers in the world, to whom neither France, nor Austria, nor Germany can hold a candle. You think the men are very young, but, in fact, nine out of every ten are over twenty years of age; and one out of every five is over thirty, whilst of those who appear short and puny every other man is 5 feet 7 inches high, and four out of every five are 35 inches round the chest. As for their want of experience, why more than three out of every four have two years' service. Evidently we are labouring under an optical delusion; we

cannot realise what is actually before our eyes. Indeed, after Lord Wolseley's speech, the age and height of Tommy Atkins is more a mystery than ever. It really appears that the rascal is a gay deceiver, that he persists in looking younger than he really is, that somehow or other he has got hold of the Fons Juvencus' and drinks, and remains for ever young. In less poetical language, he is like the West India man's pig, 'Little, but dam old!'

XXIX.

REGIMENTAL OFFICERS.

IN spite of all the official dust that has been systematically thrown into their poor eyes, the public are beginning to see dimly that although they spend sixteen or seventeen millions annually on the army, they have uncommon little to show for it! The military legislation of the last twelve or fifteen years, that ostentatiously ignored professional experience, and the inspiration of common sense in favour of theories, sentiment, and alas! too often, the inspiration of ignorance, has brought about the inevitable result inefficiency and chaos. Everything has come to pass that the opponents of Lord Cardwell's scheme predicted would come to pass, and nothing has come to pass that the supporters of the scheme said would come to pass.

Of course it is easy to understand the satisfaction with the present state of things that exists amongst those enthusiastic gentlemen who want no army--who, indeed, look forward to that strange illustration of the survival of the fittest,' when the last soldier shall kill the last priest. They see plainly that the more unpopular and inefficient the army becomes the more chance there is that the public will do away with it altogether. But I can hardly suppose that it is a subject of gratification to

the taxpayers as a body. Lord Cardwell's scheme of military reorganisation was founded on a strange miscomprehension of facts, and on an almost childish confusion of cause and effect. He reasoned in this wise'The German army is most efficient, but the German army rests on short service; therefore short service is the cause of its efficiency.' But every child could see that the strength and efficiency of the German army was not the result of short service, but of compulsory service; not because there were 100,000 or 200,000 of short-service men in the first line, but because there were 1,000,000 of long-service men behind them. The short-service men of the German army are a mere trifle compared to the whole manhood of the nation, long-service men, who stand at their backs. To call the German military service short service is wrong; it is in reality the longest military service in the world-it is for life. The German generals do not adopt short service from choice, but from necessity; not because they do not want old soldiers in their first line, but because they cannot get them. Compulsory service must of necessity be short service with the colours, because no nation, however warlike, would for a moment tolerate long compulsory service. Those who are compelled, whether they like it or not, to take up the profession of arms for the public good, have a right to insist, and do insist, that the term of compulsory service shall be as short as possible; whereas those who adopt the profession of arms as a voluntary service may insist upon having it prolonged. At present our service is a ridiculous mixture of voluntary and compulsory service. Voluntary as to enlistment, compulsory as to service. Once we have caught our voluntary recruit, his subsequent service is as much compulsory as in the German or Russian armies. But, indeed, this much-debated question of long or short service is only a red herring trailed across the scent. It has no vital importance; we are, in fact, merely disputing about the shadow of an ass!

The real question is not for how many years we enlist a man, but for how many years he will be content to stay with us when we have enlisted him. You may get your horse to the water, but can you make him drink? You may enlist a man for twenty years, but if the conditions of service are distasteful to him he will try to get out of it in six months, and you may enlist a man for six months, and if the conditions of service are agreeable to him he will serve on for twenty years. It cannot be too distinctly stated that it is not the terms of enlistment,' but the 'condition of service,' on which depends an efficient and contented rank and file. It would almost appear that as in a compulsory army short service is necessary, so in a voluntary army long service is necessary. It is scarcely reasonable to expect that a man will give up all prospects of a civil career for a military career, unless he is allowed. to make that career a long one.

It is of no use arguing on this matter; the men are masters of the situation. With compulsory service you can dictate the terms on which the men are to serve. With voluntary service the men can, to a very considerable extent, dictate the terms on which they will be content to serve. I know a little of financial morality, and I know a little of turf morality; but official morality beats me entirely. I give it up. As I have often heard it remarked of certain official sayings and doings, ‘If a man was to do and say on the turf only one-half that he says and does in the official world, he would be warned off every racecourse in the kingdom!'

The fact is, that in face of all our fine professions there is no more morality in politics than there is in gallantry. When I hear it officially stated that the rank and file of . the army is perfectly efficient, that discipline, absence of crime, recruiting, &c., is everything that can be desired, that territorial regiments, depôt centres, the reserves, &c., are conspicuous successes, I rub my eyes and pinch myself to see if I am awake, for I know that if these official