The Battle of Loos was a real success. It had resulted in useful gains, and it had proved that our infantry were second to none in the world. But even in the midst of our rejoicings we could not help feeling disappointment. Much had been done, but more might have been done. We had struck a weak place in the enemy's line, but we were not ready to take full advantage of our good luck. Our first push had given us much ground; but we could not proceed because our reserves were not ready to follow up the advance. For twenty-four hours--from Saturday at midday until noon on Monday--broken and weary brigades clung heroically to the positions which they had won, waiting for supports to arrive. There was mismanagement somewhere--the same sort of mismanagement which we had suffered at Neuve Chapelle and Festubert. Our generals had not yet fully learnt the lessons of the new warfare. They were learning them in the best possible of all schools, but at a great cost of human life and effort. Between the 25th of September and the 1st of October we lost about 45,000 men, many of whom, however, were only slightly wounded. The French Staff calculated that the Germans had lost in the September battles not less than 200,000. For the first time for hundreds of years there was widespread mourning throughout Great Britain. The men of the new armies came from every class in the nation, and many households which had never before had a soldier son were plunged in grief. Three commanders of divisions fell, three Members of Parliament, and many who had distinguished themselves in civilian life as scholars or as captains of industry. But we know that all who fell, whether distinguished or undistinguished, generals or privates, played their parts like men for the land of their love and pride. Somewhere in Flanders there is a grave above which a wooden cross bears these words:-- "Tell England, ye that pass this monument, That we who rest here died content." Equally content were those gallant men who fell in Artois during the closing days of September. * * * * *