Pleased with Doe’s ready understanding—­my friend always captivated people in the first few minutes—­our C.O. warmed still more to his subject.  Having put his hands in his pockets and leant back in his chair to survey us the better, he continued: 

“What I mean is—­had you been eighteen a generation earlier, the British Empire could have treated you as very insignificant fry, whereas to-day she is obliged to come to you boys and say ’You take top place in my aristocracy.  You’re on top because I must place the whole weight of everything I have upon your shoulders.  You’re on top because you are the Capitalists, possessing an enormous capital of youth and strength and boldness and endurance.  You must give it all to me—­to gamble with—­for my life.  I’ve nothing to give you in return, except suffering and—­’”

The Colonel paused, feeling he had said enough—­or too much.  We made no murmur of agreement.  It would have seemed like applauding in church.  Then he proceeded: 

“Well, you’re coming to my battalion, aren’t you?”

“Yes, rather, sir,” said Doe.

“Right.  You’re just the sort of boys that I want.  If you’re young and bold, your men will follow you anywhere.  In this fight it’s going to be better to be a young officer, followed and loved because of his youth, than to be an old one, followed and trusted because of his knowledge.  Dammit!  I wish I could make you see it.  But, for God’s sake, be enthusiastic.  Be enthusiastic over the great crisis, over the responsibility, over your amazingly high calling.”

He stopped, and began playing with a pencil; and it was some while before he added, speaking uncomfortably and keeping his eyes upon the pencil: 

“Take a pride in your bodies, and hold them in condition.  You’ll want ’em.  There are more ways than one of getting them tainted in the life of temptations you’re going to face.  I expect you—­you grasp my meaning....  But, if only you’ll light up your enthusiasm, everything else will be all right.”

He raised his eyes and looked at us again, saying: 

“Well, good-bye for the present.”

We shook hands, saluted, and went out.  And, as I shut the door, I heard the old enthusiast call out to someone who must have been in an inner room:  “I’ve two gems of boys there—­straight from school.  Bless my soul, England’ll win through.”

Sec.3

But, lack-a-day, here’s the trouble with me.  My moments of exaltation have always been fleeting.  Just as in the old school-days I would leave Radley’s room, brimful of lofty resolutions, and fall away almost immediately into littleness again, so now I soon allowed the lamp of enthusiasm, lit by the Colonel, to grow very dim.

It was ridicule of the fine old visionary that destroyed his power.  “Hallo, here come two more of the Colonel’s blue-eyed boys,” laughed the officers of our new battalion the first time we came into their view.  And “The old man’s mounted his hobby again,” said they, after any lecture in which he alluded to Youth and Enthusiasm.