I shall deal with the weak side of military discipline presently. Meanwhile observe that its moral force is founded on one of the noblest of human, I might say of Christian, virtues. I have styled it organised self-abnegation--organised self-surrender of the individual for the sake of the general;--only possible through arduous training in self-denial, self-restraint and self-control. Observe that, although many religious orders have taken for their governance the vows of poverty, chastity and obedience, the most formidable of all was that founded by an old soldier, who organised it upon a military model and gave its chief the title of General. The name of the Jesuits does not smell sweet in English nostrils, and yet its members have perhaps outdone all the world in self-sacrifice. "Go," the General said from time to time to some young Jesuit in the 17th century, "Go out to the wilds of North America; spread the gospel among the Red Indians; search out the land and take it into possession for the most Christian king." Without a word the command was obeyed. The missionary went forth, alone or with a comrade, undaunted by the prospect of being tied up to roast before a slow fire, or have his fingers bitten off one by one; he dwelt among savage men, lived their lives, subsisted on their food, and, without counting the risk of being lost or starved, found his way down the great rivers from the Upper Lakes to the Gulf of Florida. You know the great examples of heroism in our own army. You know the story of the _Birkenhead_; and you may perhaps realise that it is this story which has inspired all English men and English women to show courage in a shipwreck. But I shall add just one story, a very short one, of the wreck of the _Warren Hastings_, which was carrying four companies of the King's Royal Rifle Corps and as many of the York and Lancaster Regiment, on the island of Reunion in 1897. When the ship struck, sentries of the Rifles were at once posted at various points on the lower deck, to guard the access to the spirit-room and such like; and there they remained while the boats were lowered to take the battalion ashore. The water rose steadily upon them inch by inch, and had reached their chests, when at last an officer came to summon them also, last of all, to take their place in the boats. He collected them all, as he thought, but in the noise and darkness he missed one man and left him behind. The man saw his comrades disappear up the ladder, and the officer about to follow them, and not till then did he ask, _without quitting his post_, "Beg pardon, sir, may I come too?" If ever you hear any man speak lightly of military discipline, tell him that story, for that Rifleman is worthy to be placed alongside the Roman sentry at Pompeii.