man, concerning whom it is written: 'Ichabod, or, the glory is departed.' And I pleaded for the disappearance of Mulvaney, Ortheris, and Learoyd, the d'Artagnan, Aramis, and Porthos of a later day, who had provided good sport for us all at times, but were now visibly fallen into the sere and yellow leaf. I cannot flatter myself that my humble protest and plea could have any effect upon a self-sufficiency so magnificent as that of Mr. Kipling, especially in the face of the chorus of reckless and indiscriminate praise lavished upon him all round; but there can happily be no mistake on this occasion as to the justice of his second dedication to 'T. A.' For the first time our 'sheltered people' has heard something approaching an adequate statement of the point of view of the 'poor beggars in red' who have bought us 'half of creation with the sword and the flame, and have salted it down with their bones.' That is the significance of the Barrack-Room Ballads as regards the general public. They are a statement of Tommy's case as powerful and convincing as it is passionate and sincere. This may not be the real Tommy in his totality. Mr. Kipling, with commendable modesty, leaves that to the decision of Tommy himself, who alone can tell him if what he has written is 'true.' But there can be no mistake about the fact that this is at least the Wahrheit
