It must not, however, be supposed that these observations are meant to favour a too little regard to that system of discipline which is so essential to be observed in the army, and without which any army—but particularly a British one—would be inefficient. Extremes should be avoided, and too much familiarity is as bad as too much severity. I once heard of a commanding officer of a first-rate regiment who was in the habit of allowing the junior officers of his corps to make too free with him; he at length found it necessary to send his adjutant to inquire the reason why a young ensign, who was in the habit of absenting himself from parade, did so on one of those days which was allotted as a garrison parade? The adjutant informed the ensign that the colonel awaited his reply. “Shall I say you are unwell?” demanded he. “Oh no,” replied the ensign, “I’ll settle the matter with the commanding officer myself.” The hour of dinner approached, yet no communication was received from the ensign. Passing from his quarters to the mess-room, the commanding officer met the ensign, and was about to accost him when the latter turned his head aside and declined recognising his colonel, who, upon arriving at the mess-room, was so dejected as to attract the notice of all the officers. Upon being asked why he was so out of spirits, the colonel, “good easy man,” told a “round unvarnished tale,” and in conclusion added, “I thought nothing of his not answering my message, but I cannot express how much I am hurt at the idea of his cutting me as he did when I wished to speak with him!” This was _un peu trop fort_; and had the regiment in question been much longer under the command of the good-natured personage I have described, there is little doubt but that it would have become rather relaxed in its discipline.