British soldiers, serving under a voluntary system, have little to say for the conscript system, but a glance round Paris in time of peace might persuade them that there are various compensations and advantages in a conscript army which they, serving voluntarily, do not enjoy. It is a surprise to one who has served in the British Army to see the French Republican Guards stationed on the grand staircase of the Opéra, and also at all entrances and exits of this famous building. In practically every theatrical establishment in Paris the Guards may be seen on this class of duty, for which they get specially paid. There are military attendants at the Folies Bergères, at the Nouveau Cirque, at the Moulin Rouge, and even at such an irresponsible home of laughter as the Bal Tabarin. As the darkey said of Daniel in the lions' den, these men get a free show.

But it is not only when on duty that the French soldier is to be seen in such places of amusement as these, for the non-commissioned officer is to be found in company with his wife or fiancée in every class of seat. It is no uncommon thing to find among the most attentive listeners at the Opéra a number of piou-pioux, in full uniform, among the fashionable people in the stalls. The Republican rule, which makes of every man a citizen and an equal of all the rest, leads to what, in such a country as England, would be considered curious anomalies. Beside the newspaper critic in full evening-dress may be seen the private soldier, in uniform, taking notes with probably greater intelligence than the newspaper man; for the soldier may be anything in civilian life: the son of the rich banker occupies the next bed in the barrack-room to the son of the Breton peasant, and the Cabinet Minister's lad, when in uniform, is on a level with the gamin of Paris.

It must be confessed that the average French soldier, when off parade, looks rather slovenly. The baggy trousers go a long way toward the creation of this impression. Then, again, the way in which the French soldier is trained to march is far different from British principles. The "pas-deflexion" does not look so smart as the stately march of the British Guards, but it is more effective. This bent-knee, slouching method carries men along with a swing; the step is shorter than that of British troops, but the rate is more to the minute than that of the British Army, and the men swing along, to all appearances tireless, at such a pace that they cover about thirty miles a day on man?uvres. This, too, with a pack at which a British infantryman would look aghast, for the French pack is proverbial for its size and weight. It confers a great advantage, however, with regard to marching, in that it lessens the amount of transport which must follow on the track of infantry, and is necessary to the well-being of the men.

A British infantry regiment on the march, and marching at ease, still looks imposing; a French infantry battalion, on the other hand, is the reverse of spectacular when marching at ease. The band comes first, with its instruments carried anyhow so long as they are comfortable; the rank and file, following, carry their rifles as the band carries its instruments, in any fantastic position that makes for ease; step is not maintained; the set "fours" which British troops maintain at ease as well as at attention are not to be seen, for a man drops back to the rank in his rear to talk to a comrade, or goes forward to the rank in front to light his cigarette. They smoke and sing and joke; they eat bread and drink wine by way of refreshment, since the evening meal is yet a long way off; alongside the troops as they march may be seen pedlars and hawkers offering their wares, and it is all quite the usual thing, quite legitimate. The fetish of smartness is non-existent here; comfort and use are the main points.

But, at the given occasion, comes the word from the colonel; correct formations appear out of the threes and fives of men as if by magic. The band is a corporate body, marching to attention, and playing the regiment on with every bit as fine a military appearance as any British band. The men resume step, and, with their peculiar swinging march, follow on, a regiment at attention, and as fine a regiment, in appearance as well as in fact, as one would wish to see. Work is work, and play is play, and the French soldier does both thoroughly.

This attitude of the French soldier toward his work, and the fact that he is permitted to maintain that attitude, are due to so large a proportion of the officers having themselves served in the ranks. There is a sufficient leavening of "ranker" officers to enable all commissioned men to understand, when on a route march, what it feels like to the rank and file. Unlike the British Army, that of France is a Republican business. The very circumstance that discipline is more severe arises from the fact that all men are equal, and both soldier and officer know it. And, if ever the French soldier becomes conscious that he is really suffering from the severity of discipline, he knows that he is suffering in good company: under conscription there is no escape.

The training of the French piou-piou in marching is a scientific business. At first he is required to execute 160 steps to the minute—very short steps taken very quickly. In this way the recruit is made to cover 3000 yards at first, and then the distance is increased to 12,000 yards, the increases being made a thousand yards at a time. As the distance increases, the length of the step is increased, and the number of steps to the minute decreased. The full course of training is reckoned at three practices a week for three months, and the infantry recruit, before being dismissed from training, is required to cover twelve miles at the rate of seven miles an hour. There is no doubt that this scientific training in marching, and the teaching of the half-shuffling trot, characteristic of French infantry, add enormously to the marching value of the men. One battalion of Chasseurs-à-Pied set up a record in marching while on man?uvres by covering no less than 68 kilometres (equivalent to nearly 40 English miles) in the course of a day. This constitutes a definite record in marching, for any considerable body of men.

In the matter of smartness, it is hardly fair to compare a British infantry battalion with a French one, for the point arises yet once more with regard to the difference between a voluntary and a conscript system. The English battalion is made up of picked men, while in the French service all citizens are included; the fact of choice in the case of the British battalion makes for uniformity. The recruits of the French battalion include every man who has been passed by the revising board, and there is not the same chance of maintaining that uniformity which alone is responsible for smartness. And smartness itself is but a survival from the days when a soldier was trained to no more than unquestioning obedience, the old days before warfare became so scientific as it is at present, when initiative was not required of the rank and file. The only purpose served by smartness at the present day is that of recruiting, and, obviously, a conscript army has no need of this. Hence use rather than appearance comes first.

An island people may well wonder that a conscript army could be so popular as is the French, but then an island people could never realise, although they might vaguely understand, what it must be like to know that some day the army of a hostile nation may march across the frontier. The absence of sea bulwarks makes a difference in the temper of a people; an ever-present threat colours and modifies their life, and, no matter how set for peace the conditions may appear, the threat is present just the same. Since 1872 France as a whole has known that the day of reckoning with Germany would come, and the knowledge has grown more complete and more insistent with the passing of each year and the increase in German military preparations, which could be destined to fulfil but one end. France realised its duty to combat the fulfilment of that end, and the nation as a whole set itself to prepare against "The Day."

By reason of this the French Army is popular; the discipline is severe, far too much so for any English soldier to endure as a Frenchman endures it; punishments are frequent, it is true, but they are undergone in the right spirit by the great majority, who know that the Army must be trained and kept in ultimate efficiency. The conscript knows that his training is a part of the price that the nation must pay for having a land frontier and a grasping neighbour, and he pays his part of the price cheerfully and well. It may be said that no conscript army in Europe is so popular as that of France; in none is there a better spirit than that displayed by Frenchmen. The mercurial temperament of the nation is yet another cause for severe disciplinary measures, for in order to shape a Frenchman to military requirements his extreme elasticity must be controlled, and this would be impossible under such conditions as are sufficient for the maintenance of, say, the British Army.

Moreover, Republican rule and French military methods have forged bonds between officers and men which never have existed and never will exist in the army of their great opponent, for instance. I have devoted a considerable section of a chapter to punishment, and possibly at first sight this list may appear severe. It is, however, only necessary to recall the fact that while Germany takes only a percentage of its men for military training, and France takes the whole for the same purpose, German methods are twice as severe. Yet again, it is not the quality of the punishment inflicted, but the spirit in which it is inflicted that counts most. The French soldier admires, respects, and will gladly obey the colonel or captain who writes him down so many days salle de police when he deserves it. But the German soldier is hardly likely to respect the officer who not only inflicts punishments according to scale, but will lash him across the face with a whip until the blood flows. Between French officers and their men is the spirit of comradeship, and in this is evidence of the value of the French method of training. Between the German officer and the man whom he commands are hate and despite in the great majority of cases, and this also attests the value of a system.