he padre will sometimes have
difficult and perchance dangerous work allotted to him, such
as carrying messages under fire, or tending wounded men in
exposed places. He must also be prepared to lend a hand in
carrying the wounded; and, in short, render himself as
useful as possible, and thus prove himself a friend of
officer and man.

The question is often asked, 'Should a chaplain be under fire?' It is
impossible to avoid it if he is serving troops under fire, and he must
take his chance with every one else. Many times I have been asked, 'Were
you afraid?' I am only a normal person, not conspicuous for undue pluck
on the one hand, or, I hope, undue funk on the other, but I never got
over my fear; of course one grew accustomed to the deadly visitants
which were constantly in our midst. After all, if there is no fear,
there is no courage. I sometimes hear of men, of whom it is said, 'They
do not know what fear is.' Well, if that is so, such an individual is
devoid of courage, for the very essence of courage consists in the
appreciation of fear, and a persistence in duty notwithstanding. Doctor
Johnson was passing through a cathedral when he noticed a tomb on which
was written, 'Here lies the body of a man who never knew fear.' 'Then,'
said the witty Doctor, 'he never tried to snuff a lighted candle with
his fingers.' General Gordon has told us that he was always subject to
fear. 'For my part,' he once said, 'I am always frightened and very much
so.' And yet no one in history has a reputation more honestly earned for
this real kind of courage, a courage won by personal victory over fear.
Herein lies the essence of the experience of the vast majority of our
men; fearing fire, and loathing it as they do, they yet 'stick' it,
because it is their duty.

It is astonishing how soon one grows accustomed to death at the Front.
It cannot well be otherwise; the man you have been chatting to five
minutes before is presently borne along dead. The officer who was the
life and soul of the mess on the previous night, in some ruined
farmhouse, is gone before the morning; and as a man well put it, 'Dying
men out here are as common as falling leaves in autumn.'

The religious atmosphere at the Front is unique. I can hardly say that
there is what one may term a general turning to God, but certainly the
realization of the nearness of God and eternity are very present to most
men's minds. As a man said up