nations seem to us to have military governments, but not to be
military themselves. As proof of the assertion, we appeal merely to
the existence of our militia. While other nations are employing
conscription, we have raised in twelve months a noble army, every
soul of which has volunteered as a free man; and yet, forsooth, we
are not a military nation! We are not ashamed to tell how, but the
other day, standing in the rear of those militia regiments, no matter
where, a flush of pride came over us at the sight of those lads, but
a few months since helpless and awkward country boors, now full of
sturdy intelligence, cheerful obedience, and the manhood which can
afford to be respectful to others, because it respects itself, and
knows that it is respected in turn. True, they had not the
lightness, the order, the practical ease, the cunning self-
helpfulness of the splendid German legionaries who stood beside them,
the breast of every other private decorated with clasps and medals
for service in the wars of seven years since. As an invading body,
perhaps, one would have preferred the Germans; but only because
experience had taught them already what it would teach in twelve
months to the Berkshire or Cambridge 'clod.' There, to us, was the
true test of England's military qualities; her young men had come by
tens of thousands, of their own free will, to be made soldiers of by
her country gentlemen, and treated by them the while as men to be
educated, not as things to be compelled; not driven like sheep to the
slaughter, to be disciplined by men with whom they had no bond but
the mere official one of military obedience; and 'What,' we ask
ourselves, 'does England lack to make her a second Rome?' Her people
have physical strength, animal courage, that self-dependence of
freemen which enabled at Inkerman the privates to fight on literally
without officers, every man for his own hand. She has inventive
genius, enormous wealth; and if, as is said, her soldiers lack at