ype could give. This is an example of
incitement, but in as much as it determines the moment of attack it is
also a regulating agent.

Marching is still of importance,--in spite of the part taken by railways
in modern strategy. I should like to know whether the magnificent
marches of the Russians are made to the accompaniment of a band or of the
regimental choir. One sees in our volunteer army the tendency to sing on
the march. But it must be allowed that neither words or tunes are
particularly inspiring. The Englishman is habitually afraid of being
solemn, and though his marching songs may contain good things they are
apt to be treated in a light spirit. There is one which includes the
words, "Rule, Rule, Britannia!" and "God Save the Queen!" but these
famous phrases serve as chorus to lighthearted fragments, _e.g._ nursery
rhymes, such as "Little Miss Muffett." I regret to add that even this
classic is not respectfully used. It should run, "There came a great
spider and sat down beside her and frightened Miss Muffett away." I
forget the precise words of the parody, except its ending, "And Little
Miss Muffett said, 'Bother the creature!'" I still remember the fine
effect of German soldiers heard many years ago singing the "Wacht am
Rhein" on the march. Once, too, I listened to Zouaves, and no greater
contrast can be imagined. It was hardly more than a murmur, a chatter of
diverse scraps, and had no inspiring effect. These magnificent troops
may need no artificial stimulus, but ordinary folk are certainly kept
going by martial music. I remember, as a boy, marching to the tune of
the "British Grenadiers," which has foolish words, and is not striking
from a musical point of view, but it seemed to take us along. This
march-tune comes in finely in Rudyard Kipling's story of the _Drums of
the Fore and Aft_. An untried British regiment is cut up by Afghans and
retires in a helter-skelter rush, leaving behind two boys of the Band,
who strike up the "British Grenadiers" with the solitary squeak of a fife
and the despairing roll of a drum. The answer comes in a great cheer
from the Highlanders and Gurkas waiting on the heights, and in a charge
that turns defeat into victory. I wish that Kipling had allowed the boys
to survive, but the tragedy of their death is after all the effective
close. To return to marching-tunes. For average people all that is
needed is a well marked rhythm: "John Brown's body," etc., is