Now, this is the road that the White Men tread When they go to clean a land-- Iron underfoot and levin overhead And the deep on either hand. We have trod that road--and a wet and windy road-- Our chosen star for guide. Oh, well for the world when the White Men tread Their highway side by side. Now, this is the faith that the White Men hold When they build their homes afar:-- "Freedom for ourselves and freedom for our sons And, failing freedom, War." We have proved our faith--bear witness to our faith, Dear souls of freemen slain! Oh, well for the world when the White Men join To prove their faith again! * * * * * RUDYARD KIPLING. (_Editorial._) Mr. Rudyard Kipling left Bloemfontein for Capetown last night to rejoin his family and, presently, to sail with them to England. Believing that the arrangement of terms of settlement with the people of the Boer Republics will be the next important work for the British, he desires to be in London, there to speak and write for such a finish to the war as he deems best for Britons and Boers, for Africanders, for intending new settlers, for the future quiet and prosperity of South Africa, and for the honour and glory of the Empire. The editors of THE FRIEND bade him God speed and knew, when they wished him health, prosperity, and a long life, that there is not a man in the British Army or man or woman in the Empire in whose name they could not have warmly and sincerely repeated their own hearts' utterances. Mr. KIPLING came to the editorial rooms of this unique journal with an offer to assist us War Correspondents who are in charge, but he quickly and easily led us in the clearness of his views upon the paper's policy, in the wealth of talent he lavished upon its columns, and in the enthusiasm with which he collaborated with us. He evidently enjoyed this brief return to his old profession--as what man would not who ever fell under its exciting and fascinating influence? We do not doubt that he found an added and a powerful charm in the peculiar conditions under which we work--upon a journal created by and for a conquering army and published in a conquered capital. But it is of the pleasure we have known in being co-workers with him that we would write if it were fit that we should share our emotion with the public. Pleasure would be a trifling word to use were we to let our emotions flow. Honour and Pride were better terms, expressive of our stronger feelings.