of leaf’ at home, so as to tell his family all about it. Never again would he overstay his leave: back to the ship for him to give further evidence of his prowess. This was the kind of fellow who could be relied upon to maintain at sea the gallant traditions of British seamanhood, and in their time of greatest peril the true big-souled character manifested itself, as real human truth always emerges in periods of crisis. I am thinking of one man who served loyally and faithfully in a certain Q-ship. In one engagement this gallant British sailor while in the execution of his duty was blown literally to pieces except for an arm, a leg in a sea-boot, and the rest a mere shattered, indescribable mass, his blood and flesh being scattered everywhere by the enemy’s attack. And yet the last words of this good fellow, spoken just before it was too late, did much to help the Q-ship in her success. In a previous engagement this man’s gun had the misfortune to start with seven missfires. This was owing to ammunition rendered faulty by having been kept on the deck too long as ‘ready-use.’ Consequently his gun did not come into action as quickly as the others. This piece of bad luck greatly upset such a keen warrior, and he was determined that no such accident should occur again. Therefore, in the next fight, just as he was crouching with his gun’s crew behind the bridge-screen, he was heard to say to his mates: ‘Now, mind. We’re to be the _first_ gun in action this time.’ Immediately afterwards a shell came and killed him instantaneously. Or, again, consider the little human touch in the case of the Q-ship commanded by Lieut.-Commander McLeod, which had been ‘done in’ and was sinking, so that she had really to be abandoned. When all were getting away in the boats, Lieut.-Commander McLeod’s servant was found to be missing. At the last moment he suddenly reappeared, carrying with him a bag which he had gone back to fetch. In it was Lieut.-Commander McLeod’s best monkey-jacket. ‘I thought as you might want this, sir, seeing you’ll have to go and see the Admiral when we get back to Queenstown,’ was his cool explanation. Nothing could crush this kind of spirit, which prevailed in the trenches, the air, and on sea until the Armistice was won. It is the spirit of our forefathers, the inheritance of our island race, which, notwithstanding political and domestic tribulations, lies silent, dormant, undemonstrative, until the great hour comes for the best that is in us to show itself. Germany, of course, had her disguised armed ships, such as the _Moewe_, the _Wolf_, and so on, and with them our late enemies performed unquestionably brilliant work all over the world. It is true, also, that a similar achievement was attained in one disguised sailing ship; nor can we fail to admire the pluck and enterprise which enabled them to get through the British blockade. To belittle such first-class work would be to turn one’s back on plain truth.