But when all has been said, the most wonderful thing,
the almost incredible thing, was the British soldier himself in the mass. Napier's phrase about the majesty with which the British soldier fights is well known. One wonders what words Napier could have found to express his astonishment and his reverence if he had been present at the procession last Saturday. The varieties of countenance, physical build, and uniform among our military visitors were an epitome of the great alliance and the widespread association of men who had rushed to arms
to defeat Germany and save their homes and liberties. But even this epitome was not so impressive as the record which our plain British soldiers carried in their persons and their experi- ences, or as those simply printed names of the near and distant spots in the world where our soldiers had fought. As we read that long list of names, some familiar, many strange, the words of Virgil came into our mind : Quae regio in terris nostri non plena labori.s1—What part of the world is not full of our,
labour Virgil meant, of course, the fame rather than the product of Roman work. And fame is indeed the just lot of our men—such fame as was never before won in arms.
