Such qualities must inevitably endear a General to his officers, to the men who have to bear the brunt of their Chief’s personality.  But do they appeal to the private?  Both Napoleon and Wellington indubitably took immense pains to surround themselves with a shroud of mystery.  Under their dark mantles, the ranks must feel, lay buried the talisman of success.  We know that his officers found “the sight of Wellington’s long nose on a frosty morning worth another ten thousand men” to them.  Sir John French has cultivated neither a nose, nor a frown, nor even a chin.  How does he manage to be the idol of his men? it may be asked.  Simply and solely by being himself.  Without any of the meretricious arts of the personality-monger, he has impressed his personality on the troops in a most memorable way.  This is largely due to the impression of quiet confidence which he always gives.  You feel you are safe with French.  Nothing, you know, will ever upset the cool sanity of his reasoning, the balanced decision of his judgments.  This impression of certainly is strengthened by the distinctly masterful carriage of the man.  His short, stocky figure, like General Grant’s, suggests that fatigue is unknown to him.  This is indeed the case.  The story has often been told of how the General and his staff once decided, after an exhausting day, to spend the night in a lonely farm in South Africa.  The house only boasted one bed, which was of course, reserved for the General.  But French insisted on a tired member of his staff occupying the solitary mattress, and wrapping himself up in a rug, went contentedly to sleep on the floor.

His mind is as tireless as his body.  The operations round Colesberg could only have been undertaken in their complicated entirety by a General who did not know what mental fatigue meant.  This physical and mental fitness French has most carefully studied to preserve.  At one time, several years ago, he feared a tendency to avoirdupois, and instantly undertook a stern but successful bulk-reducing regimen.  Apropos the regimen there is a story.  Just before the present war, a bulky package was one day delivered to him at his club.  French opened it negligently, expecting to discover the inevitable knick-knack of doubtful utility.  But this was not the usual gift.  It was a package of weight-reducing preparations.

[Page Heading:  AN INDEPENDENT THINKER]

French’s mind, however, is original as well as tireless.  Just there lies the unique quality of his gifts.  The art of war is necessarily one of the most highly systematised and therefore the most hide-bound in the world.  No man is more perilously in danger of having his mind swathed in red tape and numbed by discipline than the soldier.  In modern times the tendency to employ masses has not lessened the tendency to stereotype habits of thought.  The danger of the mechanical soldier is stressed by no one more forcibly than by General von Bernhardi.