It is at once the glory of the British Empire, and its chief source of strength, that it contains within it so many diverse elements, all co-operating for the common weal, all owing free and willing allegiance to one sovereign. Many races combine to make the great community which we call by the strangely inaccurate term of Empire; and the British race itself, in the process of transplantation, has developed different types in differing lands, climates, and surroundings. The home Briton, born and bred within the four seas of the United Kingdom, necessarily differs somewhat in character and physique from the Briton of the Canadian prairies or the Australian backblocks. The Canadian Briton again differs from the Australasian or South African, while among Australasians the Australian is of one type, the New Zealander of another. All supplement each other; all contribute to the common stock some ingredient which the others have not, and the sum total is greater and richer than if the units of which it is composed were all alike and uniform. On the other hand, diversities demand wise handling, or they may become a source not of strength, but of weakness. It is as easy to drift farther apart as to come closer, to exaggerate differences as to minimise them. Every citizen of the Empire is a missionary of the Empire, for by the individual citizens the types are judged. The home Briton who visits Australia leaves behind him a good or bad taste for England among the Australians with whom he has been brought into contact. The Australian who comes to the Old Country gives to Australia among the people of the Old Country a better or a worse name. But of necessity the leaders are most potent in mission work, and among the leaders those who lead armed men on active service; who are in touch with them day by day in the camp, on the march, in the trenches or on the open battlefield; on whom it devolves to enforce discipline, and with whom it rests whether or not discipline means friction. It is impossible to measure the amount of lasting good which is wrought when overseas soldiers associate tact and sympathy with home leadership or, on the other hand, the mischief which results from want of personal assimilation. It is not by any means military capacity alone that makes the soul of an Empire army. We are all beginning to know each other, to value each other, to make allowances for each other, to an extent which was impossible before steamers multiplied the coming and going of men, and turned uncertain and spasmodic into regular and assured communication. Doubts can be at once set at rest and misapprehensions promptly removed by the use of the submarine cable. Moreover, this familiarising process, and the annihilation of distance, is a progressive matter. Every year leaves us rather closer to one another than we were the year before. If, even under these favourable modern conditions, the personal element still plays a most important part, it was all-important