Gatacre had known what it was to suffer in his private life, but then his profession had come {267} to his assistance, and by flinging himself with all his natural vigour into its arms for shelter and comfort he had triumphed over his pain. In this case he had been given a second chance, he had been allowed to be happy again. The laurels that he had reaped doubled their value in his eyes in that there was another to share them. But his profession at all times had a far larger share of his heart than anything that contributed to his pleasure. That was the way he was made; his profession was identified with his duty, and for him there was nothing so enjoyable as those duties which taxed his endurance and his energy. His soldiering was all in all to him; it was his record; all he had to show; the building that he had built with the bricks that had been served out to him. In his own estimation he was nothing if not a soldier. Now, recalled, rejected, the worldly hope on which he had set his heart had turned to ashes in his hand: the ambition which had been his saving grace in the days of tribulation was lost to him now. Was this the guerdon for all the years of loving toil? Was this "the reward of it all"? Who shall say whence a man draws his reserves of strength? It seemed to some of us that in his own dauntless character Gatacre found unquenchable inspiration: his independence of the opinion of men, his own intimate knowledge of the facts of the case, his untarnished record of loyal service, and his own "triumphant endurance and conquering moral {268} energy"--these were things of which no one could deprive him. I will be patient and proud, and soberly acquiesce. [Sidenote: Hopes] With a supreme effort of steadfastness and a resolute courage he forced his faith in disinterested work to come to his rescue, but henceforth he was working not to deaden the pain of outraged sensibilities, not for his own advancement, but for the work's own sake--to forward the cause of the army in South Africa, for the simple service of the country. Nothing but his accumulated powers of silent endurance, his proud indifference to his own feelings, aided by the response that his speechless loyalty won from his daily companions, could have sustained him through those three and a half long years while he silently and quietly did his duty. Borrowing the words of another we may say that "his military experience had intensified his natural horror of schism and lukewarm co-operation, and magnanimity was a stronger force than any personal consideration." Now I contend that in achieving this triumph of discipline Gatacre reached a loftier level in the sight of God and man than any to which high appointments could have raised him; and I believe that his example and his memory in this respect alone will outlive the story of many battlefields, and that he will thus have transformed a story of momentary defeat into an everlasting victory.