ng to try to acquire from the
pseudo-monasticism of Malford. I'm determined to dry up the
critical and humorous side of myself. Half of it is nothing more
than arrogance. I'm grateful for being sent to Aldershot, but I'm
going to make my work here depend on the central source of energy
and power. I'm going to say that my work is per hominem, but that
the success of my work is ex Deo. You may tell me that any man with
the least conception of Christian Grace would know that. Yes, he
may know it intellectually, but does he know it emotionally? I
confess I don't yet awhile. But I do know that if the Order of St.
George proves itself a real force, it will not be per hominem, it
will not be by the Reverend Father's eloquence in the pulpit, but
by the vocation of the community ex Deo.

Meanwhile, here I am at Aldershot. Brother Chad, whose place I have
taken, was a character of infinite sweetness and humility. All our
Tommies speak of him in a sort of protective way, as if he were a
little boy they had adopted. He had--has, for after all he's only
gone to the Abbey to get over a bad attack of influenza on top of
months of hard work--he has a strangely youthful look, although
he's nearly thirty. He hails from Lichfield. I wonder what Dr.
Johnson would have made of him. I've already told you about Brother
Anselm. Well, now that I've seen him at home, as it were, I can't
discover the secret of his influence with our men. He's every bit
as taciturn with them as he was with me on that drive from the
station, and yet there is not one of them that doesn't seem to
regard him as an intimate friend. He's extraordinarily good at the
practical side of the business. He makes the men comfortable. He
always knows just what they're wanting for tea or for supper, and
the games always go well when Brother Anselm presides, much better
than they do when I'm in charge! I think perhaps that's because I
play myself, and want to win. It infects the others. And yet we
ought to want to win a game--otherwise it's not worth playing.
Also, I must admit that there's usually a row in the billiard room
on my nights on duty. Brother Anselm makes them talk better than I
do, and I don't think he's a bit interested in their South African
experiences. I am, and they won't say a word about the